⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⠀ just thinking about bob reynolds being the most submissive man for you. to say he’s little to not experienced at all wouldn’t be a lie; but when it came to you, bob just loved to learn new things. you wanted him tied up to the bed? consider it done. you wanted him blindfolded? consider it done.
it was so overwhelming to not be able to see you, to touch you as you fucked yourself up and down onto his cock, making him moan your name out loud. “please, please… oh god, it feels so good. i feel so good.” he cried out as you lowered yourself down his length and clenched your walls around him. he tugged on the restraints, like begging to touch your soft skin, but you wouldn’t let him. “shhh, baby, relax. it feels good, doesn’t it?” you only voiced back at him, which he nods in reply.
bob can only bit down on his lips to not moan too loudly as you start to bounce again; slowly and steadily, squeezing his cock inside your warmth. his head rolls on the pillow, you hear whines escaping his mouth as his thighs shake. “i love it so much… i wanna come. can i come? please? i’ll be a good boy, i promise.” he begs you, trembling and begging all while his cock leaks pre-cum inside you, mixing with your juices. you would have loved making it last a bit longer but bob is so sweet, so obedient for you that you can’t help but give him permission.
and when he shoots his warm load inside you, hips jerking up to meet your core with whines; you tell yourself he’s definitely made to be the submissive one in this relationship.
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Bucky lays flat against his headboard, his voice low and commanding. “Ride my face, baby.” Without hesitation, you lower yourself down, your knees folding up beside his ears. The instant your dripping wet cunt touches his mouth, he releases a deep, animalistic groan. “Fuck babygirl..”
His cold metal hand grips your hip firmly, the other hand clutching your ass, his fingers digging in deep enough to leave bruises that will surely show tomorrow. He yanks you down with such force it almost suffocates him, yet he can’t get enough of you, His tongue glides through your wet folds, desperately exploring every inch.
As you begin to roll your hips, his nose pressed firmly against your clit sends waves of heightend sensation through you. Glancing down, you see your slickness glistening on his nose and stubble. He gently nips and sucks on your clit, drawing a deep, breathy moan from you. A mix of pleasure and pain.
Your nipples tighten as you feel bucky’s hips twitch upward, stroking himself rhythmically while his mouth continues its fervent worship. A thin trail of precum glistens at the tip of his cock, trickling slowly down his hand.
You try to ease your hips away, hoping to give him a breath, but the instant you shift even the slightest bit, his grip tightens possessivley around your waist. “Don’t you dare fucking lift this pretty pussy,” Bucky growls, his voice thick and muffled. You feel the heat of his breath, as your slickness drips from his lips.
Grabbing a tighter hold of his hair and began to roll your hips faster, no longer hesitating to let him breathe. “Bucky…” you practically screamed as he buries himself deeper into your cunt, the sounds of his nose nuzzling against your slit blending with the sloppy rhythm of sucking and licking.
He chokes back a moan, overwhelmed, as he comes while he fucks his hand and devouring you. Thick ropes of cum splatter across his stomach and chest. The vibration of his groans sends you spiraling over the edge.
Your cries fill the room, heavy with the scent of your shared arousal and sex. A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, breath still uneven as his hands tighten at your waist. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, voice rough and a wicked glint in his eyes.
bob reynolds who gets sexually pent up a lot and doesn't want to bother you with a single thing so commonly has to take it into his own hands, literally. until you catch him jerking off in the shower after you heard his sweet little moans and whimpers coming from the bathroom when you woke up. the sight was nothing less of holy, his hair sticking to his face under the stream of the water - mouth slightly open voicing the sounds you've grown used to, water slipping down his body framing his abs and v line and the soapy hand thats wrapped around his cock as his hips buck into his own palm.
"bob?" his eyes snapped open, looking over to you - the position conflicting. a red coating his cheeks up to the tips of his ears, "i-- baby, i'm sorry.." then you noticed his hand didn't let up, you slipped out of your clothes, joining him in the shower.
"you could've told me about this.. could've let you get this out of your system."
"i didn't want to bother you--"
"don't think like that.." with that you sunk to your knees, the tiles poking at your knees - bob's cock twitched as his adam's apple bobbed at the sight.
"you- you don't need to do tha..." he cut himself off with a whimper as you placed a kiss to his red, leaking tip.
"i want to." you grabbed his hand, directing it into your hair. his fingers hesitantly wrapping around the strands.
bob's legs didn't work after that, but his little issue was resolved - even if everyone in the tower heard his predicament.
Summary: When Bob realizes how lonely he really is Yelena is quick to pick up on it and sets him up quickly with a friend...he won't embarrass himself...right?
Bob wasn’t sure when the loneliness had crept in. Maybe it had always been there -- buried under guilt and power and the slow, aching process of putting himself back together. For years, he’d been too busy surviving to feel much of anything, and now that he was clean in all body, mind, and soul he actually had time to feel it.
And god, it hurt sometimes.
It hurt to come home to an empty apartment. To eat dinner standing by the sink. To wake up in the middle of the night and have no one beside him but the extra blanket he had on his bed.
He’d tried to ignore it. Tried to pour himself into training, into books and rebuilding and fixing what had been broken. But loneliness was a quiet, persistent thing. It lingered in the corners. It spoke in silence.
He even thought about dating apps once. Spent twenty minutes staring at the “bio” section before deleting it entirely. What the hell was he supposed to say? Hi, I used to be an addict then I became a walking bomb basically and now I fold my laundry instead of it just sitting in the basket for weeks and go to therapy. Wanna grab a coffee? He didn’t think that would really work out very well.
He didn’t want to explain himself to strangers. He wasn’t sure if he was built for small talk anymore.
And of course, Yelena noticed.
“You’re moping,” she said one afternoon, chewing a piece of his leftover pizza without asking. “You get all squinty and broody when you’re touch-starved. It’s pathetic.”
Bob blinked over the rim of his coffee mug. “What the hell kind of diagnosis is that?”
“A correct one,” she replied flatly. “You named your houseplant Maxwell, Bob. I caught you talking to your microwave Tuesday.”
He cringed remembering that conversation, the worse part was that it was a good conversation.“…Okay. I might be a little lonely.”
She grinned like a shark. “Good. I’m setting you up.”
“What? No. No, no. Yelena, I can’t—”
“She’s a friend. A good one too. You’ll like her. You’re going. Tomorrow. Wear a shirt that doesn’t scream ‘man who talks to plants and kitchen appliances.' Do not embarrass me Roberts.”
Bob didn't know anything about you but he was terrified.
You didn’t know much about Bob Reynolds before that night. Yelena told you he was sweet – with “sad golden retriever eyes and the posture of an anxious oak tree.” You thought she was exaggerating. She really wasn’t.
You walked into the little bookstore café near their complex, not expecting much. A favor to a friend is what you expected that’s all. But then you saw him sitting near the back: tall, broad, fidgeting with a napkin like it had personally insulted him. He stood when you approached--actually stood--and smiled like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.
And god, that smile.
“I’m Bob,” he said, offering a hand.
“Yeah,” you said, shaking it. “Yelena told me. She also said you cry during dog movies.”
His ears turned red. “Well I mean only the good ones.”
You teased him the entire first hour, but he gave as good as he could-- in a quiet, dry, completely endearing sort of way. He was nervous, sure, but also funny. Surprisingly sharp. He told stories about accidentally vaporizing vending machines he told you how he once won a free T-shirt by correcting a grammar error on a billboard. You laughed so hard you snorted once -- and he beamed like he’d won the lottery.
The real click happened when he walked you home. Neither of you said much until your porch. You turned to him and asked, “Wanna hold my hand or are you gonna keep pretending you’re not dying to?” He huffed a breath of laughter. “You always that direct?” You shrugged. “You always that obvious?” He smiled. “Only with you, apparently.”
__–__–__–__–__–
Later that night, Bob lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fingers still tingling from where they’d brushed yours.
He grabbed his phone and texted Yelena:
Bob: I think I really like her.
She responded in three seconds flat:
Yelena: I know I do have eyes Bobert you should know by now I am genius. You truly should be worshipping me at this point of our friendship.
Bob just smiled. Because maybe -- after everything -- he could have this. Maybe you were exactly what he hadn’t known he was waiting for. And maybe Yelena Belova was terrifyingly good at matchmaking.
--_--_--_--_
Your second date was set for the weekend. Bob promised he’d plan everything.
He showed up ten minutes early. Not because he was nervous he absolutely was, nor because he’d changed his shirt twice he absolutely had, but because this time, he wanted to get it right. You weren’t casual. You weren’t forgettable. You were sitting-in-the-back-of-his-mind kind of unforgettable. When you arrived, with your gentle smile and bright eyes, he forgot how to breathe for a second.
“Did you plan all this?” you asked, nodding at the little sidewalk café table already laid out with two drinks and what looked like one of everything from the dessert case.
“I may have panicked and ordered like everything,” he admitted cringing while he rubbed the back of his neck. You laughed. “That’s okay. I like a man with a default in chaotic dessert strategies.”
You spent hours talking. Bob nearly cried laughing at one of your stories. You confessed you liked to eavesdrop in public and make up fake love stories for strangers. He told you he thought he’d never be normal enough to date again -- and you just held his hand across the table, steady and sure.
He walked you home again. This time, your hands brushed on purpose.
“You really are sweet,” you said, voice softer now. “Yelena wasn’t lying.”
“She also said I’d trip over myself, which I have so far managed not to—” Bob tripped on a cracked part of the sidewalk.
You caught his arm. “You were saying?”
He groaned slightly embarrassed, “I’m two for two.”
At your door, the pause came. That charged stillness where neither of you moved — both of you waiting.
“So…” you said, grinning. “Do I get a goodnight hug, or is this the part where you awkwardly salute me and run off?”
“I was leaning toward a dramatic bow,” he offered.
“Even though that sounds amazing to see I think I’ll take a hug.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you gently; carefully, like you were something precious. You leaned in and didn’t let go until he finally pulled back, eyes flicking to your lips.
Bob hesitated.
Then, with more courage than coordination, he leaned in… and completely misjudged the angle.
Your noses bumped. Your teeth nearly clicked.
“Ow—shit, sorry,” he blurted. You were laughing. “Wow. We are so smooth.”
“Worst kiss attempt in history?”
“Top three. But you’re still cute.” You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Let’s try again. But this time…you tilt left yeah?”
The kiss was better the second time. Still a little too eager, still smiling into each other’s mouths, but warm and real and just… right. And for the first time in years, Bob felt hope in his chest instead of hollowness.
_–_–_–_–_–_
He showed up at complex the next morning looking like he’d been hit by a truck full of sunshine and bad poetry.
Yelena barely glanced up from her coffee. “You kissed her.”
Bob blinked. “How’d you know?!”
“You look like you cried during a Pixar movie and then got laid.”
“Okay look! Everyone cried when we watched Coco…” Yelena raised her eyebrow making Bob sigh and nod, “Yes. I kissed her.”
“And?” she asked, sipping dramatically.
“It was so good,” Bob said, practically glowing. “We bumped noses at first, but then she laughed and actually kissed me and--Yelena, I swear I could feel the planet tilt. She made me feel like I wasn’t some walking disaster. Like I was just… me.”
Yelena rolled her eyes hearing his dreamy sigh. “Disgusting. You’re so in love.”
“I’m not in love!” he insisted. “I mean--I just met her that'd be so soon like scary soon ya know and I don't want to scare her off...but also… maybe?”
She stared him down. “If you mess this up, I will break both your knees.”
“Understandable.”
Then she softened. Just a flicker. “I’m happy for you. Really. You deserve this.”
Bob blinked before getting a teasing smirk on his face. “Wait--was that… are you being nice to me?”
“Shut up,” she snapped, throwing a pen at him. “Go text your little girlfriend before you start writing her poetry in your mission logs.”
He didn’t even deny it. Just grinned and pulled out his phone.
Bob: Last night was perfect. Wanna get dinner tonight?
You: You bumped your nose into mine and still managed to be cute. You’re dangerous, Reynolds.
He melted. Yelena groaned. “God help me. He’s smitten.” And he was.
Because maybe the world was still a mess. Maybe there were still bad days and echoes of old chaos. But now, when he got home, his phone lit up with a text from you. And that quiet ache in his chest?
It didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3
★ Commentary: idk how I came up with this backstory lol, it's midnight so it's either amazing or dogshit, you decide! Also my first Johnny fic!! If you have any ideas, please send them in!, I love him sm lol
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Even since the trip to space, you've been different. You used to be the one who knocked Johnny down a peg, his best friend for as long as he could remember, never letting him get a good joke in without making a better one at his expense.
He was smitten.
He never said anything of course. That would ruin his ladies' man rep and more importantly, everything with you.
He knew you didn't feel the same, you couldn't. You saw him as an annoying brother or an annoying friend, or just someone annoying in that strangely fond kind of a way.
But it all changed when the five of you did.
You came back different. Not like the rest of them. No fun, special powers, just broken.
You didn't know why, Reed didn't even know why, but you saw something when the blast hit. Galaxies flew through your eyes. Stars and planets and so many lives. You felt them all for less than half a second. Every person across universes flowed through you. Their lives, their deaths.
You experienced every form of pain in one moment and the aftershocks never left you.
You could always feel and see something that wasn't around you. A wash of stars sat permanently over your vision, changing the world as you knew it.
The nights were worse, when you couldn't tell the difference between the stars above and your ones.
You sat on your bed, staring at the blank wall before you. Closing your eyes always showed you the people, they were too much.
You didn't hear Johnny come in, you just felt the dip in the mattress beside you as he sat down.
His arm wrapped around you, guiding your head to rest against his chest the way it did most nights. You saw the four logo on his chest, and you were glad they did it without you. Glad they just claimed you to be a casualty of a horrific accident. You were, after all.
"Can you-?" Before you could ask with that heartbreakingly small voice you came back with, he held one hand out, fingertips alight.
"Never need to ask" He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before tucking your head under his chin. You didn't like the dark anymore, there was too much of it.
Johnny was your light, even if you couldn't tell him.
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Note: this is very short and may not be the best but im absolutely dying this period and I really want Logan to take care of me 😭 I hope you enjoy
You had a love hate relationship with how warm your boyfriend got. You overheat so easily but right now is one of the moments you love his warmth.
"Bub wha-?" He started to ask a question, probably what the fuck are you doing but you cut him off with a short kiss.
"Just leave me be." You stated matter of factly and wrapped his arm around your waist tightly. A small moan escaped your lips from the instant relief Logan was providing.
Having you so close gave Logan an opportunity to really take you in. And fuck you didn't look good. Your skin was dull, there was bags under your eyes and your hair had clearly not been dealt with for a few days now. He breathed deeply and picked up notes of metallic in the air.
Ah shit
He hadn't realized it was already the first week of a new month. He started kicking himself when he realized he had nothing prepared for you like he usually did. Maybe if I ran to the store they would--
A faint snore stopped his thinking. He looked down and there you were; sleeping as if you came from heaven itself. It was clear to a blind man that you hadn't gotten restful sleep in days, it was already the 3rd so it must've been around 4 days since your body allowed you to rest comfortably.
Logans heart ached knowing his angel had been in pain. He could feel anger bubbling in him at both himself for not noticing and at you for not telling him that your cycle had started.
Clearly he has a lot of spoiling to make up for. Maybe after your nap he'd take you out for a steak dinner and get ice cream at the parlor you loved...
boyfriend!bucky who cannot keep his hands off of you.
whenever the two of you hold hands, he rubs the back of yours with his thumb. slow, rhythmic motions that ease every nerve in your body. it’s a habit he picked up over time in your relationship and never really let go.
he hates it when the two of you brush hands when walking side by side.
he hates when you don’t immediately grab his hand, instead, letting the backs of your hands brush against one another. he always grabs your hand promptly, refusing to let you simply brush against his.
boyfriend!bucky who finds excuses to touch you.
if you’re in his way, he’s moving you out of the way by your waist. it’s under the guise of practicality, needing to get past you. but you both know the reality of the situation is him needing your physical touch.
he keeps his hand on the small of your back whenever the two of you are walking. his hand placement is always low. dangerously close to your ass, low.
whenever you jump into his arms upon his arrival, boyfriend!bucky swears he falls deeper in love.
whenever he’s been away for a mission for an elongated period of time and he comes home, the first thing you do is run and jump into his arms. you wrap your legs around his waist like you haven’t seen him in years. but, to be fair, that’s exactly what it feels like.
you hear keys jingle in the front door for a moment. the bottom lock before the top, and then you hear the sound of the door creaking open.
you all but throw the bag of chocolate chips you’re holding onto the corner. homemade chocolate chip cookies be dammed when your boyfriend’s finally home from. a week-long mission.
“buckyyyy,” you drag out the syllables, running into the living room before he has the chance to respond.
you run and jump into him, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. you squeeze him with all your worth, feeling like this is your husband returning from war.
he laughs, then returns the favor by rubbing his hands up and down your back. a soothing motion that only deepens your feelings of longing for him. “you missed me, huh?”
you would’ve hit him if not for the position you were in. “of course i miss you. you’ve been gone for an entire week,” you gushed.
“i missed you more, baby. you’re all i thought about when i was away.”
you like to smother your boyfriend!bucky with your body.
whether he’s lying on the couch whilst watching tv or taking a nap on your shared bed, you just have to rest your entire body with him. he can handle your body weight with ease, so it’s never been found to be a problem.
boyfriend!bucky who lifts you onto the kitchen counter to reach your lips better while kissing.
he’s taller than you, practically towering over you, so reaching your height has always been a struggle for him. and you were never fond of standing on your tiptoes to reach his face.
boyfriend!bucky who loves to carry you.
whether you’re drunk and barely able to walk, or your feet are aching from the heels you wore to dinner, he adores carrying you around. he’d never think about complaining about it in a million years.
he’s carried you bridal style, piggyback, over his shoulder, or whatever else. he never minded it, and you seemed to enjoy it particularly, so he never gave it a second thought.
all in all, nobody is more touchy than bucky barnes is.
"Hah Uno!" you said excitedly to the masked man across from you, whose face didn't reveal much. This was definitely his unluckiest hand—you had thrown many plus cards at him and caused a pile to form in his hand.
With a smug grin, you fanned yourself with your last card. "So Mr. Three, are you finally going to accept defeat and give up? Mhm, maybe I'll even go make us a nice dessert." you said. Marc or the person you thought was Marc—looked at you with an unshaken stare. "I told you not to call me that, and I still haven't given up."
You rolled your eyes. "Marc, don't. You're not in a real battle—this isn't something you win by refusing to give up."
As if completely unaffected by your words, almost carelessly, he placed a +4 card in front of you. In surprise, "Wait, wha—"
"You said if we have extra matching cards we can combo, right Moonlight?" he said while dropping a pile of plus cards in front of you. You choked on your own spit. "You…"
"Draw 24."
"You made a strategy in a damn game like this?!"
"I'm waiting."
"Marc, I can't believe you, this is unfa—"
"I'm Steven."
"Wait, who have I been playing with this whole time!? This is unfair, I'm one person while you are three!" you pointed at him accusingly. "And you're supposed to be a grown man—have some shame!"
"You keep calling me 'Mr Three' I should at least do it justice, right?" You scrunched your face at him. "You're a complete fraud."
"Walking around at night requires that too, am I wrong?" You stuck your tongue out at him while drawing the cards. Most of the cards you got were blocks. Great.
"I'm never playing a game with you again, Steven."
"I'm Jake." The moment he finished his sentence, he was hit across the mouth with the back of your hand.
