marvel Fan

Mi pequeño rincón para escribir sobre las cosas que me gustan.

[mayqueline]

Estoy harta de los fans tóxicos de marvel. De ahora en adelante solo le prestaré atención a los proyectos donde aparezcan:

Capitana Marvel

Rocket Racoon

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Joaquín Torres

dios Loki

Y Bob Reynolds(si es que vuelve a aparecer después de Thunderbolts*)

Los otros proyectos los veré porque son de marvel y para no dejar, pero no les prestaré mucha atención.

[sugarskies]

could we have their first time together as boyfriends? im sure they were nervous but also so horny

today i thought to myself, "what should be my first post of 2026?" scrolled around my inbox. saw this. yeah. let's make it gay sex. first time slow burn edition let's go <3

-

Touching John was utterly surreal.

It wasn’t like it was the first time they’d had their hands on each other. They must have touched a thousand times between all their fighting and all their yearning and their gentle contact. But it was the first time they’d gone further than that.

Bob had never taken things slow in any relationship before John. John, who wanted him to feel special. John, who cared more about meaningful dates and soft kisses than sex. It wasn’t like they were avoiding it, they just weren’t rushing it. They were appreciating what they had outside of raw physical attraction.

But god did it feel good when they finally gave into it. Pinned underneath John was where Bob had always wanted to be, the world around him fading around John’s bare torso. Bob squeezed John’s ass, almost drooling as he stared at his chest.

John leaned over Bob and kissed him, beard tickling his chin. It was barely enough to distract him from the feeling of John’s heavy cock pressing against his abdomen, covered by thin sweatpants and whatever underwear Bob ached to rip off.

“You all right?” asked John, and Bob could only nod, thumbs grazing John’s pelvis. John’s face flushed pink as he smiled, eyes never leaving Bob’s. “I don’t really know what…”

“That’s okay.” Bob knew he was the first man John had been with in that way; the first person he’d been with since Olivia. It gave him his own level of anxiety, his fear that he’d mess it up and John would decide he wasn’t interested in Bob anymore. “Here.”

Bob set his hand on John’s and tugged it forward. He tucked John’s fingers into his waistband, pressed his palm down over his own cock. A faint shudder ran through him as his cock twitched, and suddenly he was worrying about his damn sensitivity and if that would turn John off.

A soft moan escaped him when John twisted his hand inside. He squeezed Bob’s cock gently, dragged his fingers all around the short hairs on Bob’s base. John leaned down without warning and kissed Bob’s mouth, then his neck, his chest, all the way down his belly. When he reached Bob’s pelvis, he carefully pulled his pants down, jaw slightly dropped when Bob’s cock sprang free. He was definitely right about being bisexual, then.

John tossed Bob’s pants on the floor and dragged his hand over Bob’s shaft. Bob shuddered, too aware of where John’s cock was pressed, fabric tickling the inside of his thighs. He exhaled, trying to keep himself composed, but his body knew too well what it wanted and he couldn’t stop himself before he asked,

“Have you ever done anal?”

It was definitely too far too fast. John choked on his own spit, face burning red as he shook his head. “Do you like doing that?”

“Yeah,” admitted Bob through his own embarrassment, gaze flickering between John’s eyes and his bulge. He’d fantasized about it too many times; even baited John into pushing him around just to feel that rush. “But if you don’t want to, we don’t—”

“I just want to do what makes you feel good.”

So, John grabbed the lube that he apparently had in his drawer and slicked the fingers that Bob told him to. Bob spread his legs apart, quivering slightly in anticipation. He’d been with a lot of men, but it was different with John, with someone who actually cared about him beyond what they were doing in bed.

After a few minutes of hesitant fingering, John leaned forward and licked the underside of Bob’s shaft. Bob gasped, precum dripping from his tip as he twisted his fingers in the sheets. Another wave of nerves and embarrassment washed over him, only to be calmed by a gentle kiss above his balls.

“Excited?” John teased.

Bob smiled uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

“Why sorry? It’s cute.” He pushed his fingers just a little farther apart and Bob’s hips bucked involuntarily. John grabbed Bob’s waist with his opposite hand, steadying him. “You good?”

“Mmhm. Pants off now.” John froze as he slid his fingers out of Bob, throat working like he was nervous to take that last step. “Unless you changed your mind. I can— I can show you how to make me come like this if you want to stop here.”

“No, I want to do it, just…” His eyes stared at Bob’s hole, seemingly fascinated by the way it moved with him when he breathed. John wet his lips when Bob touched his hair, trying to reassure him it was okay. “You’ve been with a lot of guys, right? I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“The fact that you care means you’re better than all of them already.”

Given how shy he was, Bob’s brain basically short-circuited when John shimmied his pants off and finally let Bob see him. He had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. Bob’s eyes widened, heart racing, hole pulsing and desperate to feel John’s length and girth inside.

“You still all right?” asked John.

Bob nodded, trying to blink himself back to reality. But he was still nervous and in awe and instead of sexily asking John to fuck him, he clumsily blurted out, “You’re big.”

The laugh that burst out of John relieved all the tension. Bob’s face burned as he laughed with him, cock bouncing when he moved. John crawled over Bob and kissed him, the head of his cock dragging of Bob’s stomach until he finally pulled back to slick it with lube.

Honestly, if Bob knew what he was getting himself into, he might have asked John to add an extra finger when opening him up. But he loved the way his body stretched when John carefully slid inside him; obsessed with the dull sting of pain that eased as he opened enough to feel comfortable with John inside.

John gently pushed on Bob’s thighs, folding him for better access. Bob moaned and threw his head back, precum spurting from his cock when John rolled over his prostate. He pressed his first knuckle between his teeth, biting down to keep himself from making the embarrassing noises he wasn’t ready for John to hear.

It was too easy to lose himself in the bliss of being filled by John. Bob gave occasional directions—lift Bob’s hips up for a better angle, find the sweet spot just short of bottoming out—but John was a damn natural. Before he knew it, Bob was dripping precum over himself, pressure pounding in his abdomen, body aching for release.

“John.” He probably should’ve warned John ahead of time that he tended to lose his ability to speak but he’d been too fucking horny to think. “John, I— I’m—”

“Me too,” said John, and thank god Bob wasn’t the only one coming sooner than he’d expected. John’s hands squeezed Bob tight, fingers pressing into his skin. “You’re good. We’re good.”

Bob gasped and swore when he came, lost in the bliss of coming with John inside him—coming because John was inside him. Cum spilled across his stomach as John worked him through it. Then he pulled out fast, unexpectedly, just in time to come on the blanket instead of inside Bob. Something to try another day, maybe.

When sex was over, Bob was used to being left alone. He didn’t necessarily expect John to leave so much as he never expected anyone to stay. But John did. He lay down at Bob’s side, set a hand on his cheek, and kissed all over his face. Bob reached for John’s wrist and squeezed it tight, and John somehow understood exactly what he needed.

It was the first time he could remember experiencing anything close to aftercare. He pressed his face into John’s neck; sank into the tight embrace that he was wrapped in; breathed when John reminded him to.

“Was that okay?” John brushed his thumb over Bob’s cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t noticed falling. “Are you…?”

“I’m okay,” Bob mumbled. And then, because it was the only thing he could think, he added, “Thank you.”

John kissed the top of Bob’s head and hugged him closer. He didn’t need to say anything for Bob to understand they felt the same.

[sugarskies]

Hiiiiiiii I love your sentryagent fics and text posts so much!! They make my day! Could I request some aftercare?? John taking care of Bob or the other way around I don't mind, just some tender care after particularly intense sex. I just love the way you write how they care for each other 😊

hiiii thank you so much!! i'm so glad you've enjoyed them 🫶 sorry this took me 8000 years i'm catching up but i LOVE aftercare and i loved writing this hope you like it 💖

-

John always liked to take a moment to admire Bob after they finished.

Rather than pull out immediately, he’d stay there, bathed in Bob’s warmth, just staring at whatever part of him he could see. That day they were in missionary, Bob’s knees damn near his armpits from how he folded himself. Bob’s eyes were fluttering but mostly closed, his thumb curled into his mouth as panting breaths escaped his lips. His cock was finally coming to rest on his stomach, sticky from where it had smeared its own release.

When John slid out, a wave of cum following him, he carefully grasped Bob’s thighs and dragged them forward into a comfortable position. Bob didn’t resist, a soft groan escaping his lips as John switched from just holding him to massaging him, gently working the tension out of his quads. It took a little effort to get his legs to relax but when they did, he fully settled; eyes drifting shut as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“You all right?” John brushed the tear away with his thumb, searching Bob’s face for any signs of distress. There was nothing in his expression but pure bliss.

“Mmhm.” Bob nodded just slightly, his left thumb still tucked between his lips. He reached for John with his right hand, fingers searching for anywhere they could grab. As John had learned early on, the more intense their sex was, the more incoherent Bob was afterward. “Love you.”

“Love you too. I’m gonna clean us up a little bit, all right?”

He only got another nod in response. John stood up and headed into the en suite for just long enough to clean himself off, grab a fresh towel, and wet a cloth with warm water. When he returned to Bob, he started with the cloth, gently wiping his abs and left side of the cum splattered across it.

John dragged the cloth along Bob’s thighs, cleaning up his own mess before he flipped the cloth inside out. A low whine left Bob’s lips when the fabric grazed his shaft, and he reached forward to push John away before he could touch his head or anywhere underneath.

“Sorry,” Bob mumbled, and John immediately shook his head.

“You’re all right.” He knew that Bob was particularly sensitive, that sometimes he needed longer to relax. Bob was mostly cleaned up anyway. John set the cloth aside and lifted Bob’s legs and hips just long enough to swap the towel underneath him. “You want some water?”

He would have made Bob drink regardless of his answer, but it was nice to receive a yes. John grabbed a bottle of water from the table beside his bed and popped the straw, then handed it to Bob. Bob wrapped his fingers around the bottle, mouthing at the straw more than drinking but at least he was sipping something.

John reached for his own water and drank a good bit before he turned his attention back to Bob. He took the bottle out of his hands, not surprised when Bob’s thumb quickly slipped back between his lips to replace the straw. His breaths were still heavy but slower, his eyes more open as he blinked up at John.

“Can you put an ice pack?”

It took time to get used to the fact that sometimes Bob needed that after sex. That sometimes he hurt then the finished and it was okay and he liked it. “Yeah. Where do you need it?”

“On my thigh.” Okay, that one was John’s fault but, in his defense, Bob made really sexy sounds when John bit him. John only wished Bob was able to recognize the pain during sex rather than after. “The— My left thigh.”

John grabbed a cold compress from the mini fridge nearby and gently set it on the bite mark on the inside of Bob’s thigh. Once it was in place, Bob reached for John’s arm and tugged him forward until he was lying down too. They moved together on to their sides, John’s arms around Bob’s waist as he kissed the nape of his neck. Bob adjusted the compress and squeezed it between his thighs as he leaned back into John’s touch.

There was nothing like cuddling after sex. John loved the way Bob’s body fully relaxed in his arms, the way he sank into the mattress like for once in his life, he didn’t have a care in the world. John tucked Bob’s hair back behind his ear, unable to hold the smile off his face as he admired the post-sex glow on Bob’s cheeks.

Bob reached for the blanket first, but John was the one to pull it fully over them. He draped it over his own shoulders as best he could reach and then tucked it over Bob, making sure he was covered up to his chin. Bob blinked at the wall in front of them, his breathing long and slow beneath John’s hands.

“I liked when you pushed my knees forward,” whispered Bob, words half cracked like he wasn’t quite sure how to speak.

“Yeah?” It wasn’t often that he got a post-sex debrief. Usually, Bob just offhandedly mentioned things he did or didn’t like at completely inappropriate times. “In missionary?”

“No, no. When I was on my stomach.” Ah. Before they’d turned over and switched positions for the second time. “Felt really good.”

John smiled and kissed behind Bob’s ear. That was his favorite thing about sex—that he got to make Bob feel good. Despite how self-centered he often came across, his pleasure had always been secondary to or intrinsically tied to his partner’s. He hugged Bob closer, feeling his breathing, ensuring his body was still relaxing.

“You falling asleep?” Bob nodded, his right hand reaching to hold John’s and his left tilting back towards his lips. John kissed his shoulder and then his neck, soft touches to keep him grounded. “I’ll wake you up in half an hour for a bath, all right?”

“Okay.”

That meant he had about twenty-five minutes to hold Bob before he stood up to draw the bath. Twenty-five minutes to lay there and stare at him. Twenty-five minutes to ponder how the hell he was so lucky.

[sugarskies]

Absolutely adore your work especially how you write them being intimate so I was wondering what if Bob wakes up through out the night randomly extremely needy for John but is also very tired to do anything himself so he just begs for John to touch and use him? After he’s spent that’s when he can finally fall back asleep and rest until the morning 👀

thank you so much 🫶 sorry this took me a while this idea is DELICIOUS i love u needy bob i love u service top john 🔞❤️ 18+ please this is just smut with sleepy feelings

-

The first time Bob woke up, it was just a minor annoyance. It was rare that he had a perfect night of sleep. He assumed he had some kind of nightmare that he’d forgotten and fell back asleep after just a few minutes.

The second time Bob woke up, he realized it was not a nightmare that woke him, it was a wet dream. He wasn’t actually wet but he was half hard, plagued by images of John that were not as peacefully sleepy as he was in real life. But Bob was too tired to jack off so he closed his eyes and willed his erection to go away.

The third time Bob woke up, he wanted to cry from sheer exhaustion. All he wanted was to sleep and for some reason, he couldn’t. He wasn’t just half hard anymore but fully fucking erect, his cock aching to be touched.

But Bob was at about an hour of uninterrupted sleep after a week of sleeping like shit and he felt like he could barely move his arms. So, instead of doing anything about it, he groaned and nuzzled his face into John’s shoulder, very aware of where his dick pressed against John’s thigh.

“Hey.” He felt equally shitty and relieved when John woke up and set a hand on the back of his head, gently playing with his hair. “You okay?”

“No, I need you to touch me.” Bob didn’t think once about the words before they left his mouth. He just wanted to sleep, and he knew he couldn’t sleep until John did something. “Please. I can’t sleep. I need you to get me off.”

There was a little smile on John’s lips despite the wrinkle of concern in his brow. “Can feel you down there. What do you need me to do?”

“Anything. You can use me however you want just please touch me. Please. I’m so fucking tired, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay. You’re all right. Roll over for me.”

Bob used the last of his energy to roll on his left side. He lay there for a few moments as John rolled the opposite way, from the sounds of it grabbing the lube from his drawer. Then he shifted and pressed his bare chest against Bob’s back, the thin layer of his t-shirt barely separating their body heat.

“Gonna lift you up for a second, all right?” Bob nodded and John lifted his hips just enough to slide a towel beneath them. Good thinking. If he didn’t have the energy to masturbate, he didn’t have the energy to clean. “Okay, you’re good.”

John hooked his thumb into the waistband of Bob’s briefs and started to tug them down. He kissed the back of Bob’s neck, clearly asking for permission, and Bob gave a small nod before John pulled Bob’s briefs fully off and discarded them somewhere behind him.

Within a few seconds, his fingers were teasing the crack of Bob’s ass, his middle finger sliding through until its tip pressed against Bob’s hole. John kissed Bob’s neck again and mumbled half into his skin, “This good?”

“Yeah,” Bob breathed, the only word that could escape him. In his mind, he screamed yes, yes, please just touch me already. He could feel his hole pulsating as John worked him open, the tip of his cock dripping the second John grazed his prostate. “John.”

“I got you.”

Somehow, from just that one whined name, John understood what Bob wanted. He shifted behind Bob, apparently tugging his own boxers down before he scooted forward enough for his cock to touch Bob’s open hole. He pushed in slowly, the weight of his shaft on Bob’s prostate instantly triggering a small spurt of precum from Bob’s dick.

Bob pushed his thumb between his lips and bit down when John started to roll his hips, his thick cock easily stretching Bob’s hole. It was interesting being fucked while half asleep. He felt so relaxed, so open, ready to take literally anything that John wanted to give him. It was a testament to how much he trusted John versus any other man he’d been with.

An embarrassing, broken moan slipped out of Bob’s lips when John reached around and grabbed his cock, his big hand squeezing Bob’s shaft. Bob turned his face into the pillow, his tangled curls falling over his cheeks as he twisted his left hand in the sheets.

John kept his pace slow but steady, not so fast that it would fully wake Bob but not slow enough that it was teasing. He lingered in the places Bob liked the most pressure, kissed the back of his neck when he bottomed out and paused. His hand worked Bob’s cock in matching strokes, and maybe it was just because Bob was leaking so much but he swore he could feel John’s precum mixing with the lube inside him.

He whimpered into the sheets as the twist in his abdomen became tighter, as he focused on everywhere John was touching him. A quiet “John” rolled off his tongue and John pulled him closer, muttered reassurances behind his ear, fucked him just as slow but somehow twice as hard.

The utter relief when Bob’s orgasm struck him was like nothing he’d ever felt. He gasped into the pillowcase as cum spilled out of his cock, coating John’s hand and pooling on the towel beneath them. His cock twitched when John let go of it, still barely dripping, releasing whatever it was that had been wound so tightly inside him.

“John,” said Bob breathlessly. He grabbed John’s wrist and pulled lightly, a signal John always understood.

“Not right now,” John told him, already sliding out. “Don’t need your ass full of cum while you’re trying to sleep.”

“I like it.”

John chuckled and kissed the nape of his neck when he pulled out fully. “I know but it’s messy. Next time.”

Though Bob would never admit it, John was absolutely right. He didn’t even know where John came, exhaustion taking hold of him as soon as he relaxed. Bob didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up the next morning; the towel gone and his body cleaned and tucked safely in John’s arms.

[sugarskies]

Hey, hope your functioning currently and have hydrated recently. I was wondering if I could have some soft hurt/comfort where bob or john are struggling and are snapping at everyone but all they want is a hug from their partner and to be told its going to be okay, maybe some soft smut to finish it off. I give you pretty much creative freedom to fill in a gaps. I feel that I could do with a hug and all my chronic pain will just go but your stories help it be more manageable. I hope you have a good day :)

thank you! :) this one got a lil longer than usual i hope you like it <3

-

“If you want to get yourself killed, that’s fine. I won’t have any guilt since I told you so four goddamn times.”

Somewhere in the back of John’s mind, he knew that he was being a dick. He’d lost track of how many times he snapped at his friends during that meeting. It wasn’t that he was trying to be mean, he was just plagued by intrusive thoughts telling him that every single idea they had would get them all killed.

“Next time you open your mouth, you need to say something productive.” John rolled his eyes and, unsurprisingly, it only irritated Bucky further. “You being an asshole isn’t going to keep us alive.”

“I know what the fuck I’m talking about,” John snapped, right hand clenching into a tight fist around his pencil. “You all talk to me like I’m a dumbass but I’m not. I was in the Army; I’ve done missions like this before and these plans—”

“You’re overthinking it. I was in the Army too and this—”

“Yeah, a hundred years ago. What the fuck do you know about modern security?”

The way he said it sounded like an insult but the thoughts behind it were nothing but concern. What if Bucky didn’t anticipate a laser grid and lost another limb? What if he misunderstood the alarm system and got himself caught and shot?

All John wanted was for his team to be okay, to make it out of the mission alive and safe, and he had legitimate concerns about why they might not be. He came across as an asshole, but it came from a place of love and care, of fearing that he might lose his loved ones again.

“Hey.” Bob’s hand was light, fingers gently squeezing John’s shoulder. The entire table fell silent, giving him space to say his piece. But instead of contributing, he asked only, “Can you come out here for a minute?”

If anyone else had asked, John would have said no. But it was Bob, so he nodded and followed without question. He didn’t know where Bob intended to take him, but he expected them to go at least farther than two steps inside the elevator door before Bob stopped.

Bob’s hands landed first on John’s biceps and then glided up to the top of his shoulders and grasped him reassuringly. His eyes stared into John’s, fighting for the eye contact that John couldn’t seem to award him. Not because he didn’t want to but because he felt like if Bob saw him, he’d see everything.

“Are you okay?” asked Bob, his low voice impossibly reassuring in and of itself.

The question had no good answer. John should have been okay. He wanted to be okay. But no, he was not okay. All he could think about was something going wrong and someone he loved getting hurt. All he could think about was him doing something wrong and being responsible for the consequences.

Rather than find a way to voice violent imagery in his mind, John shook his head. Before he could even blink, Bob’s arms wrapped around his stomach and pulled him into a tight embrace. His lips turned and kissed the edge of John’s jaw as he whispered reassurances beneath his ear, fingers gently scratching John’s back.

“I don’t know why I keep yelling at everybody,” John admitted. He draped his arms around Bob’s shoulders and hugged him closer, grounded by the gentle rise and fall of his torso. “All week, I just keep having these feelings like something is going to go wrong or someone is going to get hurt or—”

“I know. I’ve noticed. It’s okay.” The fact that someone understood felt like a miracle. Bob’s lips found John’s jaw again, a slow kiss lingering on his skin even as Bob whispered, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this. I promise.”

The words, however simple, instilled a sense of peace in John that he thought he wouldn’t get back. He exhaled deeply, a single tear sliding down his skin. He dragged his hands upward, buried his fingers in Bob’s hair, and gently guided Bob’s face until their lips met.

Bob’s instinct was to kiss deep, even when the motions were soft. His tongue unfolded into John’s mouth, tickling his bottom lip as he pulled himself in closer. John tugged on the ends of Bob’s hair before he dropped his right hand, lifted Bob’s leg up by the knee.

They always had a habit of going too far. That was how they ended up together in the first place, wasn’t it? One gesture snowballing into ten others. Without a conscious thought, John looped his opposite arm around Bob’s second leg and lifted him up, their lips never parting for more than a second to breathe.

John carried Bob out of the elevator, assessed which floor they were on, and pushed his way into the first door he saw. The entire floor was conference rooms nobody had used since the tower belonged to Tony Stark. The odds of them being caught were slim to none.

He set Bob down on the table, shifted his hands back to Bob’s hair, and gave him one more long kiss before he lightly pushed him down on his back. Bob smiled and pulled John down on top of him, bending him halfway over the table until their lips were able to reach again.

“This okay?” John asked, right hand dropping to Bob’s abdomen as he kissed along Bob’s jaw and down his neck. Bob nodded and mumbled his approval before John undid his drawstring. “Shit, don’t have—”

The laugh that ripped through him when Bob lifted a small, inexplicable bottle of lube broke the last of the tension in his chest. A beautiful chuckle fell between Bob’s lips before he muttered, “You may or may not find a plug down there.”

“God, I love you.”

John pulled Bob’s sweatpants and briefs down in one swift gesture, somehow equally amused and turned on by the rainbow crystal between his cheeks. Bob reached to pull the toy out, but John got there first, so Bob turned his attention to John’s waist and undid his button and fly.

Next thing he knew, John’s pants were gone, Bob’s legs wrapped around him. John’s cock was stiff and slicked with lube, eager for his fingers to finish their work. He always checked if Bob was ready first. Always. It didn’t matter if Bob had a toy in, if he promised he prepped beforehand. John was so afraid of hurting his loved ones that he needed to feel it for himself.

He pushed in slowly, giving Bob an inch at a time. Bob’s thighs tightened around him, breathing long and deep the way he always did when John entered. A sharp gasp escaped Bob’s lips when John bottomed out, the faintest fuck falling out of him.

John reached his right hand up to stroke Bob’s cheek, his left clinging to Bob’s thigh. “You all right?”

Rather than answer with his words, Bob laced his fingers behind John’s neck and tugged him down until their lips met again. John kissed him over and over again as he started to move. He loved the way that he could feel Bob’s breath change depending on where he was; how it hitched when John rocked on his prostate and moved fast when he pushed as deep as he could go.

At some point, Bob’s hands drifted from John’s neck to his back until he was grabbing at John’s shoulder blades, clinging to him like a lifeline. Somehow, it was always more intense when it was softer, when it was slower, when they were focused on the feeling of being together and not just getting off.

The bottoms of John’s thighs slapped against the edge of the table as he rolled in and out of Bob, focused entirely on the way that Bob’s lips curled, on the way his eyes fluttered. When he saw how happy and satisfied and filled Bob looked, it was hard to believe that he’d been consumed by the fear that all he could do was hurt the people he loved.

“John.” Bob really didn’t need to say anything. John could tell he was close from the way his back arched, from the precum that drooled out of his cock. “John, I’m—”

He leaned down without warning and captured Bob’s lips, swallowing the moan that escaped him when he came. Warm cum spilled between them, the beautiful sounds Bob made falling straight into John’s mouth.

John shifted forward and back slowly, his own body nearing its breaking point. He started to pull back but Bob grabbed him and with his strength, John was unable to do anything but fall apart right where he was. His own groan was much louder as he spent himself, his release flooding around his cock and dripping out of Bob down the edge of the table.

“I love you,” said John, face buried as deep in Bob’s neck as his cock was still in Bob’s ass. “I love you so much.”

Bob’s hands found John’s face again, fingers lightly combing his beard as he whispered, “I love you too. All of you. Always.”

[sugarskies]

Imagine

Bob lying on his bed, back arched, head thrown back with his eyes closed, limbs loose and pliant.

And a blond head bobbing furiously between his legs

i'm imagining it... i'm imagining it... oh dear my finger slipped :) 18+

-

Bob’s fingers twisted in the blanket beneath him, eyes fluttering open and shut with each slow exhale. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that relaxed; his knees bent to the point of comfort, back slightly arched, arms soft above his wrists.

All thanks to John, arms wrapped around Bob’s thighs, head bobbing furiously over his stiff cock. The fact that he’d only given a handful of blowjobs was still mind blowing, not to mention the fact that every one of those blowjobs had been for Bob.

“Fuck, John.” He winced when his toes curled, reacting to the spurt of precum that landed on John’s tongue. Probably. Bob couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. His heart rate accelerated, the tiniest level of embarrassment injected into his veins. “Sorry. Sorry.”

John pressed his fingertips deeper into Bob’s bare thighs as he pushed down, swallowing Bob’s entire length. That was his way of showing he was okay with it, apparently. His way of reassuring Bob that he wasn’t like the other men he’d been with.

He dragged his tongue back up Bob’s length tantalizingly slowly, gently sucking on his sensitive skin. Bob’s back arched farther off the blanket, soft whines permeating his breath. His hair spilled over his forehead, faintly sticking to the sweat glistening on his skin.

Bob reached his arms between his legs, fingers twisting deep in John’s hair. He didn’t force John to move any way, just held on to him as he moved up and down, sucking up the mess of saliva and precum that dripped over Bob’s cock. He rarely came up for air, clinging to Bob like he needed him to breathe.

“Holy fuck.”

Truthfully, Bob had never experienced really good oral before John. At least, he didn’t think he had. There were a few times that he really enjoyed but it was hard to tell if that was because the guys were good or because he was high and had a massive intox kink he tried to pretend no longer existed.

Whichever it was, it didn’t matter. With John, it was good not because he was skilled—though, shit, he was good—but because he cared. Because he got off on making Bob feel good and Bob had never been with anyone else like that in his life. Nobody ever cared about whether Bob felt good so long as they did.

The world around him faded as John continued his motions, the white noise swallowed by the sounds of his lips sliding sloppily along Bob’s dick. All Bob could think about was the way he throbbed, the way his pelvis pounded, tension twisting in tight coils as he inched his way toward release.

“John.” Words. He needed words. There was a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, blocking him from communicating what he felt burning inside him. “John, I—”

His attempts to speak faded into a strangled whine as he came, back arched completely off the mattress. Bob pulled on John’s hair as he spent himself down the back of his throat, trying desperately to push him away.

That was going to be the end of their little friends with benefits arrangement, Bob was pretty sure. He’d never come in John’s mouth before and given how squeamish John could be about it in other places, Bob knew he had to be uncomfortable as anything.

But rather than yell at him or hit him or call him disgusting, John pulled back slowly, not a hint of urgency in his movements. He even pressed a small kiss to the tip of Bob’s dripping, oversensitive cock before he turned and spit into a hand towel.

“Sorry,” Bob rambled, a tear sliding down his cheek as his cock twitched where it fell against his stomach. He made a sound when John leaned forward and kissed his right thigh, then his left, and right in the middle of his pelvis. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t— I’m sorry. I—”

“You’re all right,” mumbled John, not a hint of anger or revulsion in his tone. He trailed kisses up Bob’s stomach as he moved upward, finishing with one to right side of his collarbone. “Was that good? Did it feel good or—?”

Bob nodded, his fingers tracing every mole they grazed on John’s back. “Really good.”

[sugarskies]

I love how you write sentryagent so much, and I absolutely love how you write bob's bipolar, I see a lot of myself in it. As someone going through the diagnostic process rn (which thunderbolts helped me to take the first step towards!) it means a lot to me that both you & thunderbolts depict a bipolar person with addiction struggles as someone worthy of love, respect and understanding.

Ok with all of that being said... my request is for smut 🙈🫣 maybe bob & john sneaking around while fwb because they think nobody knows yet?

thank you so much 🫶 the most important person in my life is bipolar and my family has a long history of addiction struggles so i say with my whole heart i love people with bipolar disorder and i love people who struggle with addiction. they are worthy of all the same compassion and respect as everyone else and so are you 💖

on to the request. well. this is admittedly pretty self-indulgent! i have been wanting to write locker room sex for a while and it fits so well with sneaky fwb that i took this opportunity to do it... i hope u enjoy 💞 i also hope they were as quiet as they think lol

-

“Hope that water’s cold.”

Bob rolled his eyes, lukewarm water running over his face. It didn’t take a genius to understand what he meant. Less than fifteen minutes earlier, they’d been in the training room sparring. Despite the Thunderbolts’ plans to train longer, Bob tapped out after John pinned him against the mats.

(Not because he was hurt or tired but because he was fucking embarrassed. The reason he lost was because he couldn’t stop staring at John’s biceps and then when John finally knocked him down, he got a fucking boner. A swift retreat to the locker room was very necessary.)

“You’re an asshole,” Bob snapped back, but his grin was audible in his words. He could almost see John’s outline behind the shower curtain. Just the sight of his ankles undid all the work of the freezing water he’d endured before.

“Maybe,” John agreed, “but I guess you like that, don’t you? Seems to turn you on when I push you around.”

Bob rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t about to listen to his dick, was he? He was past that point in his life. But maybe he’d make an exception for John. Shit, their whole friends with benefits thing had really gotten out of hand.

Before he could think about it too hard, Bob reached his right arm outside the shower stall, grabbed John’s wrist, and pulled him inside. Their lips met before their eyes, water cascading between them. John sank into it fast enough that Bob knew it was what he wanted; why he was standing outside the stall teasing Bob that way.

“You’re a horny brat,” John mumbled, lips never fully leaving Bob’s. Bob shrugged and shoved his tongue between John’s teeth, his shoulders smashing against the tile wall. He pushed his thumbs inside John’s basketball shorts and underwear and pushed them down, leaving him just as naked as Bob had already been. “Someone is going to hear us, you know.”

“Okay.”

If John actually cared, he didn’t show it at all. His arms dropped, hands grabbing Bob’s ass like it was the greatest thing he’d ever touched. When he separated their mouths, he kissed along John’s cheek and down his jaw, then dropped to his shoulder for just a second before finding his way back to Bob’s neck.

Usually, it was John who got loud enough to worry Bob. That time, it was Bob who shoved his right thumb in his mouth to stifle his moan, hips instinctively grinding against John as John sucked on him hard enough to leave a mark. It made him stupidly happy to feel John’s cock against his, to know he wasn’t the only one turned on by their training.

“Want to fuck you,” John mumbled into Bob’s neck, teeth grazing the surface of his skin. His fingers pressed deep into the bottom of Bob’s ass cheeks, grasp tight and possessive.

Bob moved his left hand from John’s back to his face and nudged him back up for another kiss. He let his jaw hang open when he pulled back, eyes staring straight into John’s when he replied, “Fuck me, then.”

“We need—” He made a face when Bob shoved a small jar into his hand. “What’s this?”

“Coconut oil.” Officially, Bob had it in his shower bag as a small part of his haircare routine. Unofficially, it was very helpful when cold water didn’t do the trick. John raised his brow. “You have six seconds before I push you out of this shower.”

Within five seconds, John’s first two fingers were lubricated and an inch inside Bob’s ass. He turned Bob around, left hand reaching up to cover Bob’s mouth as his right scissored him open. It was embarrassing how loose Bob was already. They hadn’t fucked in a few days—John would know he’d been playing with himself.

His heart skipped a beat, precum dribbling out the tip of his cock when John breathed beside his ear and whispered, “Ask me next time.”

John pulled his fingers out not long after, his opposite palm stifling the whines that escaped Bob when he pushed his cock inside. He kissed Bob’s neck again, breath warm against the cooling water. His thick length stretched Bob open farther, delivering that faint burning pleasure that few good dicks could.

Bob moaned against John’s hand when John bottomed out and started to fuck him. His eyes fluttered, the world disappearing around him. It didn’t matter that the team was only one room over. It didn’t matter that the door wasn’t even locked. He was thinking with his dick after all, and his head was too empty to care.

Nothing was more important than John’s low pants beside his ear; than John’s bush tickling his ass with each thrust; than the perfect pressure when John hit his prostate just right. Bob held his cock with one hand, not stroking himself but holding his shaft still enough to not paint the whole wall in his precum.

“Walker, you in there?”

John’s hand tightened around Bob’s mouth when Bucky’s voice echoed in the room, his cock deep in Bob’s ass. That was intentional. He could’ve pulled out and he didn’t. He wanted Bob to suffer. He leaned in close to Bob’s ear, his shush barely audible. Bob nodded, the squeak in his throat muffled by John’s palm.

“Yeah,” John called, his chest rising and falling heavily against Bob’s back. He knew as well as Bob that if Bucky got close to the shower, they were done for. Even if John lifted Bob up—or vice versa—their outline in the shower curtain would give them away. “Need something?”

“I was just gonna ask if you wanted to do some hoop drills,” Bucky started, “but given the shower, I’m assuming you’re done for the day? Bob gone too?”

“Yeah, I’m done. Bob is—” Gone was accurate. He was putty in John’s hands, eyes half closed, brain melting more with every second John stayed fully inside him. “He must’ve gone out the other door.”

“All right, tomorrow then.”

“Sure.” An intense wave of relief washed over them both when the locker room door opened and shut again. John’s body softened behind Bob’s, his right hand squeezing Bob’s hip tight as he muttered, “You were so quiet. Wonder how long I could stay inside you?”

Honestly, that was something Bob would have been very down to test. But he wasn’t going to say that in the shower. Not that he could speak anyway. A whimper slipped between his lips, his prostate crumbling under the intense pressure of John’s heavy cock resting on top of it.

“Need to say something?” asked John teasingly.

The second he moved his hand, Bob begged. “Fuck me. Please.”

He was more than a little grateful for the immediate return of John’s hand, muffling whatever the sound was that ripped its way out of him when John resumed his thrusting. Bob fought to keep his feet from slipping on the slick tile floor, John’s arm around his waist holding his trembling knees upright.

Given how long John had been sitting on his prostate and how long they’d been going at it already, it didn’t take long for Bob to break. He moaned into John’s hand when he came, cum splattering across the wall in front of him. John’s breath sped up but he didn’t stop, just kept fucking Bob, carrying him through his orgasm before he mumbled,

“Inside okay?”

Bob nodded, hoping to convey the enthusiastic message of yes. Please. Always. Especially in the shower, the answer would never be no.

He gasped when John pushed fully inside him, John’s lips landing on Bob’s neck to stifle his own moan as he spent himself. John’s cum was warmer than the water at that point, filling Bob until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his knees actually started to give. Only then did John pull out, his mouth littering Bob’s shoulders with kisses as his cum dribbled down Bob’s thighs, quickly washed away by the water from the shower.

“You good?” John always asked that. Bob wasn’t sure whether it was because he didn’t look okay after sex or because John just cared enough to check anyway. He nodded. “Good. I should go before—”

Bob spun around without thinking, without caring, and captured John’s lips in another kiss. John’s left hand stayed on Bob’s torso, his right falling to join it when Bob knocked it away. Bob licked John’s bottom lip, across his teeth, even flicked the roof of his mouth, tasting every bit of him he could.

When they pulled apart, Bob stared straight into John’s eyes and said breathlessly, “You can go now.”

If there was anything better than the way John fucked him, it was the look in his eyes as he stared at Bob, dilated pupils clearly communicating, “I don’t want to.”

But he did because he had to and the second he was gone, Bob pressed his forehead against the wall and asked himself for the hundredth time what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.

[sugarskies]

john eats bob’s ass

For all he bitched whenever Bob wore it, John did love the way Bob looked in his old USMA hoodie.

John wore about a size and a half bigger than Bob to begin with, and he’d bought the hoodie two sizes up for himself. So, when Bob wore it, his whole frame disappeared. It swallowed his torso, hands, and draped halfway down his thighs.

He looked cute as shit. There was no other way to say it. But John’s favorite thing about the whole look wasn’t even the hoodie itself. It was the fact that when Bob decided he was done leaving John’s room—their room—for the day, he generally decided he was done with pants too.

“Hey, baby.” It was probably wrong of John’s gaze to immediately trail down to Bob’s ass, but they’d been together for like two years at that point, so he was allowed to look, right? “What are you drawing?”

“Your dick,” Bob quipped, pencil never leaving his sketchbook. John sat on the edge of the bed and glanced over his shoulder, unsurprised to find that Bob was drawing nothing of the sort. “You’re back late.”

“I know. Sorry.” John set his boots by his dresser, then lay on his stomach beside Bob. He gently dragged his fingers through Bob’s hair and leaned down to kiss his neck. “You take your meds?”

“Mmhm.”

Bob didn’t say anything else. He just kept working on his art, completely relaxed under John’s touch. John’s gaze drifted as his hand did the same, slowly sliding down Bob’s back. The hoodie was completely covering Bob’s ass and there was a not insignificant part of John dying to know if he had anything on underneath.

He watched Bob’s face closely, searching for any signs of discomfort. There was a fine line to walk with Bob and touch. Yes, Bob had a free use kink. Yes, he’d explicitly told John he could touch him wherever he wanted. But John knew well that what Bob enjoyed one day could be triggering the next.

That night, Bob seemed comfortable with it. He actually smiled a little when John’s fingers first grazed his ass, an amused puff of air escaping his nose when John’s whole hand gave his left cheek a squeeze. John inhaled deeply when his fingertips touched skin.

“Goddamn.” No underwear, then. John couldn’t resist the urge to hook his middle finger under the fabric and tug it upward. His jaw dropped just slightly as he slowly revealed Bob’s ass; perfect and soft and unfairly fucking pretty. “Can I…?”

Touching Bob’s ass was always okay. Licking it needed case-by-case permission. John wasn’t sure whether Bob understood his trailed off question until Bob closed his sketchbook. He set it on the table beside him, then reached his arms under his waist and pulled the sweatshirt up to his abs.

“Towel?”

Oh. Right. John was horny in the moment, but it would bother him afterward if they didn’t use one. He reached into his top drawer and grabbed one of the soft towels. Rather than hand it to Bob, he lifted Bob’s waist with his left hand and positioned the towel with his right. His adjusting Bob’s cock definitely teetered into fondling, but he didn’t care.

“God,” John breathed as he moved down, the tip of his nose tickling the top of Bob’s crack. He tilted his chin and kissed that special spot, hands shifting to grab a cheek each. John nuzzled his nose into Bob’s skin, gently parting Bob’s cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re beautiful.”

“You know you’ve seen my ass like a thousand times, right?” asked Bob, his tone more amused than anything else. “It doesn’t look any different than it did when you watched me get dressed this morning.”

“Good. It’s perfect.”

John shifted in between Bob’s legs, adjusted his shoulders, and pushed his face right in. He pulled Bob’s cheeks apart at the same time, thumbs pushing into his soft flesh. The tip of John’s tongue went straight for Bob’s hole, eliciting a quiet moan from Bob when he gave it a few small licks.

Admittedly, the first time they had sex, John hesitated when Bob suggested he eat him out as prep. He’d given oral before but not like that and never on a man. It surprised him how much he loved it, but it shouldn’t have. Nothing about his love for Bob should have surprised him.

He loved squeezing Bob’s cheeks as he made room for his tongue. He loved sucking on the top of his crack and peppering kisses down to that special spot on his taint. He loved reaching around to tease Bob’s hard cock and play with the precum that dripped out of it.

Most of all, he loved fingering Bob. Fingering an asshole was not something he’d ever expected to enjoy but holy shit did he. John pulled his fingers into his mouth for just a moment before he pushed one inside Bob’s hole. Not entirely loose but not tight either. It wasn’t long before he added a second.

Fingering Bob was amazing for so many reasons. The incomparable warmth that surrounded his fingers; the way his cock leaked when John pressed down into his prostate (apparently a very big kink for John, though Bob sometimes found it embarrassing to be milked), the little sounds that he made when John touched him just right.

“Oh, fuck.”

Bob’s left thumb slipped between his lips, muffling whatever next words he said. Low whines followed, barely making it out around his hand. Bob hated the sounds that he made but to John, they were beautiful, inarguable proof that he was touching Bob right.

Sometimes John wondered what it felt like for Bob. He’d let Bob eat him out before, but it wasn’t the same. Bob’s prostate was more sensitive and John had a longer, scratchier beard. Bob was messy when he ate John out and John was a little more deliberate in his movements.

The way Bob just barely ground into the towel said he must’ve been chasing some pleasure in his cock. Maybe from the way that it twitched and leaked when John pressed his middle finger into Bob’s prostate, tongue licking just above his hole.

His ass was definitely a little pink too, beard burn getting the better of his skin. Did it itch? Was it an unpleasant addition? A good kind of tingle? Bob was always very happy to sit on John’s face, so he must’ve liked the way it felt, right?

John moved his fingers in time with his mouth, licking the top of Bob’s ass and then gently biting his cheeks as he toyed with his prostate. Bob moaned, head pushing farther into the pillows, ass moving up toward John’s face.

“Fuck, John.” Bob reached his hand back and grabbed John’s hair, twisting the short strands the best he could. “You need to— to stop.”

No, he didn’t. He knew what Bob meant and he didn’t care at all. Fucking Bob would be a nice bonus but eating him out was the goal. If he came from that and fingering alone, John would go to sleep a perfectly happy man (not to mention Bob often came twice anyway).

If anything, John did more. He added just a little bit of pressure to Bob’s prostate, fingers stretching him slightly more. His lips sucked hard, trying their damnedest to leave a hickey on his ass. Sometimes Sentry let him keep the marks when he really wanted them to stay. John hoped it would stay that night.

“Oh, my— fuck. John. John.”

Bob let out a sound between a whine and a moan, body shifting deep into the mattress. John kept his fingers working gently as Bob came, carrying him through his orgasm. When his body started to settle down, he pulled his fingers out and put his mouth in his place.

He kissed Bob gently, peppering a trail of small pecks along the whole center of his ass and then across his cheeks. John breathed heavily as he pulled back, squeezing Bob’s ass one last time as he looked down at his work.

Pink skin, faint hickeys, trails of saliva, and light scratches from his beard. And yet Bob’s ass was still so beautiful. More beautiful, even. John was generally too embarrassed to say it because Bob thought it was weird, but he was very, very into the way Bob’s asshole pulsated when it was open. It made him want to dive right back in, to stick his whole tongue in as deep as it could go.

“Need a minute,” Bob mumbled, breaking John from his horny thoughts. John rolled out from between Bob’s legs and lay back on his stomach beside him. He kissed Bob’s cheek, mesmerized by his fluttering eyes. “You can fuck me but I— I need a minute first.”

“You’re all right.” John kissed his temple next, fingers scratching the back of his neck. It was a good thing Bob had no problems with bodily fluids. “We don’t have to do anything else. Just wanted to play with you a little.”

A small smile curled up Bob’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” whispered John. He slid his hand down Bob’s back and gave his ass one more squeeze. “And your ass.”

[sugarskies]

[prettygirlwyattrussell]

fucking STUNNING commission made for me by the absolutely phenomenal @birdypng 💖💖💖 based on my Corporal Lewis Ford X Major Major fic, Found You in The Dark, you should all go check out more of their work over on their tumblr!!

[danielsarmand]

⋆˙ john figuring out where bob came from before anyone else does

THUNDERBOLTS* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

[doggedworship]

Floridian lifeguard Bob x divorced dad on his first vacation alone John.

When John almost drowns at a pretty late hour, Bob drags him out of the water and gives him the most awkward mouth to mouth breathing ever seen and a definitely concerned round of questions about why he has decided to go for a swim while reeking of alcohol.

John will never admit to him, or to himself even, that he drank and drank just to numb himself, and that as the current pushed him under, for a moment he had felt something akin to peace.

But Bob seems to read between John's snarky deflections a little too easily and insists on not leaving him alone.

Even if John's ashamed, he enjoys the long lost company a little too much. Even if Bob feels like he's out of place, he doesn't want John to leave.

They stay up talking until the Sun rises far up in the sky.

After that night, the two inevitably run into each other every day. Each time, their gazes are glued to the other, even from afar.

Bob is so distracted by his lust for that man he can barely do his job.

John suddenly feels the urge to act on the instinct he's repressed for 40 years.

They will meet every evening, with a new excuse every time, sometimes from Bob, some other times from John, the outcome won't change and their attraction won't stop growing.

It all will inevitably lead to them hooking up on that same beach one night, a week later. And several nights after that one, with Bob who finally starts enjoying that job he had gotten just to survive and after John extends that vacation he had dreaded for so long.

[doggedworship]

Bob RIGHTFULLY gets his gay flowers for gushing at John's praise in this scene, BUT what about John praising him to begin with??? The eye contact and little nod and the soft sincerity in his words??? Taking a moment after a fucking traumatizing experience to make bob feel good about himself???

This acknowledgement means EVERYTHING for John, who struggles to externalise his genuine care for others, doing so only when he trusts them. His relationship with bob wasn't great and he wasn't sure of how Bob would've reacted and he STILL exposed himself.

And let's remember the last time they saw each other before this bob beat the shit out of him! John was yet to get close to Bob, he knew Bob didn't like him, yet he encouraged him in the Void, hugged him and then explicitly praised him as soon as they got out?? INSANE

[elfito]

Dirty dancing in the moonlight, that's what you love make me feel like💛❤️

[thenewavengersblog]

[rockytheeridian]

THUNDERBOLTS* 2025, dir. Jake Schreier

[rockytheeridian]

THUNDERBOLTS* 2025, dir. Jake Schreier