john f walker x reader (thunderbolts)
⁓1k words
teammates to more, cursing, off-screen smut, teasing
"god, you fucking piss me off," you snarl, buckling yourself into the copilot seat of the jet. john rolls his eyes as he follows your movements, the pilot chair creaking under his weight as he lets himself fall into it.
"as if you're innocent in all of this," he mutters right back, and you have to take a deep breath as to not flip out.
"you were the one to rush into things and almost blow our cover. the only reason we're alive is because i managed to keep it intact after you fucked it up so badly." your voice is icy, just like the venomous chuckle that falls out of john's mouth.
"by pushing me against the wall and making out with me? sure, there was no other ways."
"you think i wanted to do that?"
"it sure fucking felt like you did."
you answer with an annoyed huff and a quiet "fuck you", and awkward silence falls over you as john flies you back to the tower.
john keeps shifting, and you're already in a sour mood after your unresolved argument so the sounds of his clothes rustling and the seat creaking only serves to piss you off even more. when you glance over to him, you want to dig into him - but he chooses that exact moment to adjust his position once more and your eyes catch on the obvious outline of his hard dick, clearly visible in the suit pants he's still wearing.
the words die in your throat, instead coming out in a harsh exhale that makes him glance over at you out of the corner of his eyes. and as much as he hates you in this moment, he'll always make sure you're alright.
"you good?" his voice is still rough, quiet after an hour of not talking. with another two hours on the flight to go he doesn't know how to fill the silence, especially not since your kiss had left him this rattled, this desperate.
"you're hard," you state, gaze locked onto the side of his face. without much space to hide, john just nods.
"i'm painfully aware." despite your annoyance, your head tilts to the side, traitorous eyes struggling to stay on his. he can see your curious, questioning look and sighs.
"that was my first kiss after the divorce," he breathes out, almost timid as he admits it. "and you... you felt good." shock seeps into your flesh at his shy confession. you're used to bravado, the ego that nothing is able to knock down, so to hear john this bashful and quiet makes a pulse travel through your body. you want to ignore it, but when he honest to god blushes at your lack of a reply and looks to the side to evade your gaze, you manage to shake yourself out of your stupor.
"you're hard-"
"-as i have said, yes."
"shut up. you're hard because of a distraction kiss?"
to your absolute and utter delight, his blush deepens.
"stop talking about it if you're not gonna do anything," he pleads with you, fully expecting you to laugh at him, but you stay quiet. so many thoughts are running through your head, and almost all of them tell you to do something both of you could regret.
but then again, your body always had a mind of its own either way.
your nimble fingers unbuckle your seatbelt, and once unfastened you stand up, lean over, and turn on the autopilot. john watches on with wide eyes as you come to a stop in front of him, his fingers twitching around the control wheel as if he doesn't know what to do with them. you're pretty sure he doesn't.
a scoff leaves you, and john's eyes widen to an almost comical level when you move forward to straddle him, cage his meaty thighs between yours. the pilot seat is barely able to fit both of you.
"who says i'm not gonna do anything about it?" your lips split into a small grin when his hands land heavy on your waist as if on instinct, his pretty blue eyes fixed on yours. "you're getting some release from your problem-" you motion towards his lap, "-and from what i can see i'll get a good ride." after not seeing any semblance of hesitation in your face, john's eyes darken, leaning back against the chair.
"do it then," he tries to call your bluff, but when you just chuckle and follow his movement, chest pressed against chest as you leave a trail of kisses from his throat to his lips, a groan escapes him.
you only glance at him to make sure both of you really want this - and the way he looks at you with unbridled want convinces you. one grin from you, and john's breath catches in anticipation. your grin only widens when your fingers play with the zipper of his suit pants and he whines.
"why don't you ever fly the jet anymore, walker? my arms are sooo tired," yelena complains, flying the whole team back to the tower after a tiring mission down in guyana. john doesn't answer, and bucky sighs in annoyance.
"probably because he's being a pouty fucking asshole after rushing in once again which went entirely against our orders."
bucky's voice trails into the background. they don't notice the small glare john sends you across the jet, and the dangerous smile you lean your head back with - which makes his mind immediately replay when you had first sunk down onto his lap, bottom out with a moan of his name and your throat bared as hip met hip. with a small grunt, he adjusts in his seat, crosses his hands over his lap so nobody can see the slowly growing bulge in his suit.
but nah. he just can't look at the fucking pilot seat anymore without getting a hard-on, and he'd rather not be subjected to your endless teasing.
not like you'd ever stop.
author's note: i had this in my drafts and wanted to break my abstinence so here you go, unwritten, off-screen smut </3
