# voidpies fic archive .ᐟ

hello, i’m voidpies ⋮ 20s ⋮ multifandom ꒰ 𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 ꒱

[voidkrypto]

Two’s Better Than One

— part 2 of Two-Man Job (Some Maintenance Required)

pairing: john walker x fem!reader x bob reynolds

summary: One gets to have you. The other only gets a show.

You fuck Bob while John is forced to watch every second of it.

tags: plumber! AU; porn with a bit of plot; mentions sentryagent making out; no use of y/n; bratty female reader; mean john and sweet bob; 69 position; riding; voyeurism; orgasm denial (kinda); basically john is in the cuck chair

notes: thank you @magicwithaknife for requesting this, i had so much fun writing it; (this is more steamy than part one); i giggled when i called them ‘plumber bros’ cuz it made me think of mario and luigi 

word count:  3,018

nsfw content; mdni 

The first time John and Bob helped you out with your "problem" had been weeks ago. And it definitely hadn’t been the last.

You called maintenance again the very next day, something about a leaky kitchen faucet, and asked for the same plumbers to come by.

“They just did such a great job,” you had said sweetly to the lady on the phone, who was a little too enthusiastic about providing excellent customer service.

You still had the modesty to pretend. Pretended to show them to the kitchen sink, which was very much not broken. They had set their toolbox down with matching raised eyebrows. You only gave them a sly smile in return.

That was where the modesty ended. Because not even two minutes later, you were bent over the cool granite counter while they took turns rearranging your guts.

After that, it became a pattern. Every few days, you came up with a new reason to ring up maintenance—a faulty sink drain, a suspicious rattle in your pipes, your washing machine not filling water—and every time, you requested John and Bob.

If the desk lady ever noticed your suspiciously frequent service calls, she was polite enough not to say anything.

John was still as gruff as ever. Still fucked you mean, made your thighs shake harder the more he spat out degrading things in that low, gravel-thick voice. Bob stayed sweet. Still peppered you with kisses, still whispered compliments and praises into your skin. Somehow that contrast made it even hotter. You never wanted to pick between them.

By your third hookup, John had given you both their numbers. “Saves you from calling the building like a little freak,” he had said. “And we can help you out after work hours, too.”

So now, naturally, you hooked up even more often. Late nights. Early mornings. Whenever the craving hit, they were free. And you always texted both of them.

Two’s just better than one, you always thought.

Which was exactly how you ended up here tonight, kneeling on your bedroom floor with both of them standing in front of you. They were facing each other, making out, tongues brushing lazily, as your hands curled around their lengths.

Your mouth worked between them, switching back and forth. Bob on the right, John on the left. You alternated, lips wrapping around one cock while your hand stroked the other. Every time you looked up and saw them still kissing, still lost in each other, you felt it. Arousal deep in your belly, a heat that only built. You moaned around them, vibrations rolling through your throat.

It didn’t take long for them to near their climax. You felt it in the way their cocks twitched in your hands. The way they both groaned, low and deep, when you sucked them harder.

Your own hand dropped between your thighs. You chased your climax with fast, messy circles, your breath hitching between sloppy licks.

You took Bob deeper, and gagged just a little when the head of his cock brushed your throat. Your free hand still stroked John, your thumb swiping over the tip slick with pre-cum.

Your thighs trembled as the orgasm ripped through you. A full-body jolt that left you moaning around Bob’s length.

Then he was spilling into your mouth with a sweet whimper, hips jerking up as the heat hit the back of your throat. You swallowed fast, your tongue still lapping at him as you pulled off with a wet sound.

You barely had time to turn your head before John finished too, groaning your name as his cock twitched in your grip and released hot cum all over your face. Thick, warm liquid coated your cheeks, your lips, the bridge of your nose. Even dripped down to your chin.

You blinked up at him, still dazed and flushed, hand falling away from his spent length. You were a mess. A filthy, ruined, glowing mess.

And still, you grinned. A playful glint flashed in your eyes as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He narrowed his eyes. His voice came out low, a little breathless, and sharp. “Fucking brat. Always so needy.”

He turned away to grab his clothes off the floor. And you didn’t know why, you didn’t mean to care, but his words hit you. Deep.

You were still kneeling on the floor, naked. His mess is still on your face. Your smile faltered, eyes dipping down, chest suddenly tight.

Sure, he always said shit like that. And it always turned you on. The degradation, the roughness, paired with Bob’s sweetness, it sent you spiraling into some other world.

But this time it landed wrong. 

Maybe because he hadn’t even looked at you when he said it.

Maybe because yeah, you were needy. 

But he always showed up when you texted. So what the fuck does that make him?

You didn’t realize how long you’d been quiet until Bob crouched down, his gentle voice tugging you back. “Hey,” he said, hand cupping your chin to tilt your face up. “You okay?”

He was holding a warm, damp towel. Carefully and tenderly, he started to wipe your face clean. He swiped your cheek, then your lip, then under your chin.

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks, Bob,” you whispered.

He smiled, soft as ever, and leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. And that alone almost made you melt again.

That night, John's words still clung to you like humidity, thick in your chest, sticking to your thoughts. You knew you probably shouldn't have let it get to you. That was just how John was. Rough-edged, mouthy, prone to saying shit that dug deep without meaning to. But still, every time you closed your eyes, his voice circled your brain.

You didn’t text them for the next few days. That was the unspoken rule; they never reached out first. They waited. Waited for you to need them.

And god, you were starting to need them. Really bad.

Your vibrator just wasn’t cutting it anymore. It wasn’t the same. No weight behind it, no heat, no two pairs of calloused hands pressing your legs open or holding your hips down.

You hovered your thumb over Bob’s name in your contacts, almost tempted to call just him. Sweet Bob, who never said the wrong thing, who always made sure you came at least three times before worrying about himself.

But then a better idea bloomed in your mind.

You sent them both the same text, separately: i’m free tomorrow after 9pm ;)

Bob replied after a while: okayyy see ya :)

John left your text on read. Typical. But you knew he’d show up. He always did.

~

You still weren’t sure how they always managed to arrive at your door at the same time. Whether they planned it or it was just some odd plumber bros psychic connection. But when the knock came at 9:03, and you opened the door, both of them were standing there.

And tonight, you were feeling bold. You wore nothing but your satin robe. The same one you’d worn that first time they fucked your brains out.

“Hi,” you chirped, grinning at both of them.

 “Hey,” Bob replied, warm and soft, his eyes already dragging over your legs.

John gave you a once-over and muttered, “Someone’s feelin’ extra lively today.”

You ignored him. Just reached out, grabbed both their wrists with playful fingers, and tugged them inside, kicking the door closed with your heel.

Your room was dimly lit, warm, the bed freshly made. You led them in, let go of their wrists, and faced them.

 They both stood in the middle of your room, waiting for you to move first.

 You turned to John. With a slow, gentle press of your palm to his chest, you nudged him toward the corner chair.

 “Just wait here while I get ready,” you said with a sugary smile. His brow arched slightly. He didn’t ask questions, just walked backward, letting you herd him like a well-trained dog. His legs hit the chair, and he dropped into it, exhaling through his nose. Arms crossed, face hard and unreadable.

Perfect.

You turned, sauntered back to Bob. “Wanna undress me?”

 His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “Of course.” His fingers were slow and hot to the touch. Bob untied the ribbon at your waist, slipped the robe off your shoulders, and let it pool at your feet. You stepped out of it without a word.

Your lips found his, and he sighed into your mouth as you kissed him, slow and deep, your hands already tugging at the hem of his shirt. You peeled it off him, then slid your hands down to the waistband of his pants. He helped you, until he was down to just his boxers, already hard beneath the cotton.

You heard movement behind you. John shifted in the chair, maybe rising to stand, but your voice stopped him cold. “Actually,” you said, glancing back at him, your lips curling sweetly, “I think I just need Bob’s help tonight.”

Bob pulled back slightly. “Oh—what?” You didn’t answer. Just kissed him again, more firmly this time. Let your hands wander over his chest, his stomach, until his confusion melted into a soft groan.

“The fuck?” John’s voice came sharp and incredulous from across the room. 

You climbed onto the bed, pulling Bob with you. He settled back against the pillows, sitting halfway up, propped on his elbows.

 You straddled his hips immediately, grinding down on him with slow, deliberate pressure. He let out a shaky breath, already panting slightly.

 “What—what about John?” Bob murmured, voice tight, as your mouth pressed kisses down his neck.

 You leaned in close to his ear, your voice a velvet whisper, but loud enough for John to hear across the room. “Don’t worry about him,” you purred. “Let’s just have a good time. You and me.”

Behind you, you heard a sharp exhale. A grunt. The creak of leather as John adjusted in the chair. You glanced over your shoulder and caught his hard expression, arms still crossed, one leg bouncing impatiently. His eyes, dark, were locked on where your hips were rolling against Bob’s.

The sight should’ve made you nervous. Instead, it made your core throb.

All you could think of was, this is gonna be so fun.

You turned your attention back to Bob, who was all flushed and dazed, reached between your bodies, and slid your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers.

 And you made sure John could see every second of it.

Bob’s cock was already hard in your hand, twitching when you stroked him slow and steady. His head tipped back, lips parted, chest rising fast. You tugged his boxers down just enough and climbed into his lap, grinding down while he gasped into your shoulder.

He fumbled for your hips, eyes wild, and you didn’t make him wait. You reached between your legs, guided him to your entrance, and sank down on him in one slow, aching push.

~

You were barely holding yourself up at that point, thighs trembling, as you rode Bob’s cock shamelessly. 

He was sprawled out beneath you on the bed, flushed and breathless, hands gripping your hips to help guide your movements. His cock filled you so well it almost hurt, every bounce sending a wet slap echoing off the walls.

Your voice was hoarse from moaning, crying out each time you sank back down. That angle had him hitting something deep, just the right spot. 

And when you leaned forward a little, you swore you felt his tip reach so far into you. The sudden stretch ripped another needy sound from your throat.

You felt dizzy with it.

But it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was him.

John.

You glanced to the corner of the room. He was still sitting there, where you had told him to stay. Watching.

Your gaze dropped down to his jeans, and you bit your lip when you saw it. The denim was tight across his lap, his bulge unmistakable now, the fabric doing a poor job at hiding how hard he was. 

You didn’t doubt for a second he was aching under there. Probably leaking.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry. Or maybe too wet. Because, fuck, you missed the feel of him. Missed the weight of him on your tongue, the stretch of his cock filling your mouth until tears pricked at your lashes.

You had never said it out loud, you’d never feed into his ego like that, but you loved sucking John’s dick. He was so long, so thick, it took all your focus to keep your mouth wide and your throat open. And he knew it. Smirked at the way you gagged and whined around him, grumbling words like, That’s it, slut, drool on it.

A soft whine escaped your lips now, involuntary. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to look at him again.

But when you did, because you couldn’t help yourself, he was already watching you. His smirk was lazy, crooked. That smug glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

He knew one cock wasn’t enough for you. That you liked being filled from both ends, used until you forgot your own name.

You could practically hear him again; Fucking brat. Always so needy.

He may be right about that, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. Not yet.

Because this? This whole show was your payback. You were proving just how fine you were without him. Just how good Bob, and only Bob, could make you feel.

You looked back down at the man beneath you, sweat-drenched and wrecked, and smiled through your panting. You had an idea.

“Bob?” you managed through a breathy moan. “I wanna—nnnhh—I wanna try something…”

He blinked up at you, propping himself up slightly on his elbows. His grip on your hips loosened just a bit, the pace of his thrusts slowing. “Yeah?” His voice was low, wrecked. “What is it?”

You pouted a little, leaning closer to his face. “Can I suck your dick… while you eat me out?”

His whole face turned red, adorably so. You could feel his cock twitch inside you. “You mean like…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, grinning. “Like sixty-nine.”

Bob swallowed thickly, breath catching. “Yeah—fuck—okay.”

You lifted yourself off him slowly, gasping as his cock slipped free. When you settled back down again, facing the other way this time, you were soaked, dripping onto his stomach as you shuffled up his body and straddled his chest.

He lay flat again, eyes wide with anticipation, hands settling on the sides of your ass to guide you into place. The air felt cool on your slick folds as you hovered above his face, and you shivered. Half from the exposure, half from knowing John’s eyes were still on you.

Then Bob pulled you down to his mouth.

You cried out, sharp and breathless, when his tongue met your core with an open-mouthed kiss. It was overwhelming, wet and messy, and so fucking good. He moaned into you like he had missed the taste, dragging his tongue through your folds, teasing your clit with slow, rhythmic circles.

You let yourself sink down, balancing your weight on your forearms as you reached for his cock.

He was still hard, aching and flushed. And when you wrapped your hand around him, lowered your mouth to the head, Bob groaned loudly into your pussy. The vibrations made your thighs twitch.

You swirled your tongue around the tip before taking more of him in, your lips stretching, your mouth already watering. You hummed low around him, and he bucked slightly into your throat.

Fuck, you loved this. The mess of it. The ache of being worked at both ends.

You whimpered as Bob’s tongue flicked faster, harder, working your clit like a man on a mission.

And then your eyes flicked back to the corner of the room.

John was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clenched into fists as he watched you suck Bob off while riding his face. His expression unchanged, eyes narrowed, chest heaving with shallow breaths.

You made a show of it, moaning around Bob’s cock, grinding your hips just a little more desperately against Bob’s mouth, like you had forgotten John was even there.

But you hadn’t.

You wanted him to suffer.

And because the thought of pushing his buttons until he snapped was a little too exciting.

It didn’t take long before both you and Bob came together. Your back arched as you released, coating his lips with your slick. At the same time, his cum spilled hot into your throat, which you swallowed eagerly.

Bob was limp beneath you, panting against the sheets, skin flushed and shining with sweat. His hands had fallen from your hips, too spent to hold on any longer. You slid off his lap with shaky legs, but still remembered to lean down and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

And John—oh, poor John—still hadn’t gotten his release, cock straining painfully against his jeans, visible from where he remained seated in the corner.

You were a tad bit disappointed he didn’t end up taking out his frustration on you. Maybe next time you’ll get lucky. For now, the satisfaction of denying him was enough.

You walked over to him, naked, not bothering to hide a thing.

Standing between his knees, you pressed your hand to his crotch. His breath caught. You gave him a slow, gentle squeeze, just enough to make him feel everything he didn’t get to have.

Then your hand slid upward, over his stomach, up his chest, until it settled lightly on his face. Your thumb brushed along the curve of his cheek.

You leaned in, lips hovering just shy of his. He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. The corner of your mouth tugged into a smirk. And you only whispered,

“Did you have a good time?”

[voidkrypto]

Hiiii I'm the anon who requested the continuation of the plumber fic and I would LOVE to be tagged 💗

hi lovely ♡

im very sorry it took me so long to finish your request but it’s finally completed !!

“Two’s Better Than One”

i hope you like it !! :)

[voidkrypto]

Ummm I didn't think I needed plumber!Bob & plumber!John but now that I read your fic, I need more!!!

If you're taking requests on it, I had an idea where maybe you guys made it a regular thing to hook up or even start a relationship. But John being the (lovable) asshole he is said something that pissed you off and you being the brat you are, only pay attention to Bob and make John watch and suffer in silence

hello anon <3 i love love love love this idea !! <3

im still in the middle of writing your request, im so sorry for the wait !! ><

just wanted to let you know that i am working on it & other fics as well; i work a little slow so pls bear with me <3

if u want, u can give me ur @ so i can tag u, otherwise i think im gonna post it in a few days :)))

i was giggling like a little menace writing it, bratty reader loves to make john suffer hehe

[voidkrypto]

Two-Man Job (Some Maintenance Required)

pairing: john walker x fem!reader x bob reynolds [AU]

summary: Your shower broke during what felt like the worst day of your life. Two plumbers help you out—in more ways than one.

Maybe you just needed them to fuck the frustration out of you.

tags: plumber AU, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, porn with very little plot, size kink (if you squint), threesome, double penetration, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex!), dubcon (just to be safe), eiffel tower (but they’re not high-fiving lol), hate fucking, squirting, creampie, degrading names, bratty reader, john degrades while bob praises

notes: sentryagent got me on a chokehold and i wanted an excuse to write them sandwiching reader; why is it so hard to describe the eiffel tower position; oh & i made a mood board !!; first time posting a fic, please be nice <3; this is completely self indulgent, i’m sorry; not properly proof read

NSFW / 18+ only / MDNI

part 2

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You’ve had a long day.

Your boss had been on your ass. Customers were worse than usual. Traffic on the way home felt like a punishment. You weren’t sure how many more little disasters you could take before you finally snapped.

All you wanted was to get home, take a hot shower, maybe relieve some stress with your vibrator, and knock out. That was it. That was the plan.

You’d just stepped under the water, letting it run down your body, when the universe decided to push you one step closer to your breaking point. The showerhead sputtered—and then stopped entirely.

The sudden lack of water left your skin cold.

“Are you fucking kidding me…”

You fiddled with the shower knob, hoping to reset something—only to twist it too far. With a metallic groan and a loud clunk, water burst from the base of the fixture, spraying everywhere—out into the bathroom floor.

You yelped and stumbled out of the tub, grabbing a towel in a rush, wrapping it around your dripping body as you snatched your phone. You dialed building maintenance, biting back curses as you explained the issue. The woman on the other end promised someone would be up in a few minutes.

You considered getting properly dressed, but you hadn’t even finished your shower. What was the point of getting dressed just to get undressed again?

So instead, you pulled on a thin satin robe from your closet—just as someone knocked at your door.

You were halfway down the hall when another knock sounded, harder this time.

“Coming!” you called out, not caring if you sounded impatient.

You opened the door to a tall, broad man with dirty blond hair that matched his beard. His work shirt had John stitched onto the chest. He didn’t even pretend to smile—just stared at you like you’d personally ruined his day.

Behind him stood another man—dark hair, soft eyes, toolbox in hand. He smiled a little, hesitant, as your gaze flicked down to his name tag. Bob.

“Plumbing,” John said flatly. Just that. No hello, no how are you.

Your eyes bounced between them. “Doesn’t it usually take one guy to fix a shower?”

Bob gave a small laugh. “Oh, uh, he’s training me. I’m new.”

“Right,” you muttered.

“We’ve been knocking for three minutes,” John added, stepping inside

You stared at him. “I was getting dressed.”

He raised an eyebrow like he didn’t believe you.

You stepped aside to let them in fully, then turned and led them toward the bathroom.

“We were told your showerhead broke?” Bob asked politely.

“Yeah. It just gave out mid-shower,” you said, gesturing toward the mess. “Water sprayed everywhere. Thought I was gonna drown in there.”

“Doubt you’re that fragile,” John muttered, crouching at the base of the tub, already unscrewing the faucet with rough, practiced hands.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, did I offend you by asking for help with my broken shower?”

“Didn’t expect to get a bath in the process,” he grumbled, nodding toward the water pooling on the tile.

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. It’s barely even a puddle.”

Bob gently cut in, trying to keep the mood light. “Do you have anything we could use to soak it up?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some bath mats.”

You laid them down while John started working. You backed up to the door but didn’t leave—just stood nearby, arms crossed, watching. John was at the valve now, Bob a couple feet behind him, crouched beside the toolbox, handing him parts and tools as needed.

The space felt even smaller with them in it. Your bathroom wasn’t exactly generous to begin with, and now it was filled with two large, solid men—both of them tall, broad, shoulders brushing walls as they moved. You couldn’t help but notice the way they towered over you.

At one point, John muttered something about needing to replace the showerhead but also adjust the valve. He dropped to one knee, leaning over the edge of the tub, twisting something inside the wall.

Without realizing it, your feet dragged you closer. First a step, then another. You weren’t trying to hover—you just wanted to see what they were doing. It’s your bathroom, after all. You don’t exactly trust this grumpy plumber and his nervous trainee not to botch it.

You keep drifting in, hovering behind John, watching. Until you were right next to him, peering down, wet hair dripping over your shoulders.

John twisted a valve.

“You planning to supervise me the whole time?” he muttered.

“Do you plan on fixing it right the first time?”

That earned a grunt. Bob glanced between the two of you, like he wasn’t sure whether to step in or slowly back out of the bathroom.

You leaned over a little more. Your damp hair dangled beside John’s arm.

A drop slid off and landed on his shoulder.

He stilled. Then looked up at you, deadpan. “You’re dripping on me.”

You muttered a sorry, pushing your hair back. But before you could help it, you leaned in again—just slightly—and another droplet landed on the back of his neck.

“Okay, seriously. Back up. You’re dripping like a wet dog.”

You should’ve apologized. Really, you should’ve just walked out and let them work. But between the hell of your day and the way he’d been snapping at you since the moment you opened the front door, you felt something sharp and bratty uncurling inside your chest.

You snorted. “Should I have taken the time to blow-dry my hair while my bathroom was flooding?”

“You could’ve at least wrapped your hair up.”

You groaned, finally stepping back toward Bob, who offered an apologetic smile.

“What’s it like dealing with him all day?” you asked, not bothering to lower your voice.

Bob laughed nervously. “He’s not so bad. He’s actually taught me a lot. He’s great.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Bob, hand me the channel lock,” John snapped.

He glanced up, then paused when he noticed you still lingering in the bathroom.

“You sticking around for moral support, or what?”

You folded your arms. “I’m here to make sure you don’t make it worse.”

John muttered something under his breath. Then, “Ah, shit—”

You stiffened. “What?”

He didn’t answer, just adjusted something behind the valve. You moved closer, nervous now, crouching near his side, your knee nearly brushing his shoulder.

Then it happened.

A metallic pop. A gurgle. And suddenly a cold blast of water sprayed out from the pipe. Straight across the bathroom. Straight onto you.

You gasped and stumbled backward, soaked in seconds. Your satin robe clung to your body instantly—thin, now translucent in the light. Your nipples stiffened at the shock of the cold, pressing visibly through the fabric.

Bob froze. Tool in hand, eyes wide, clearly trying very hard not to stare.

John did stare. Briefly. Blinks once. Then raises a brow.

You caught their silence too late. You looked down and—

Your face went hot.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, yanking your arms up to cover your chest. “Seriously?”

“I—I didn’t—I didn’t see anything,” Bob stammered, gaze darting toward the ceiling.

John wiped water from his face, totally unbothered. “You were the one standing there like you wanted a free car wash.”

You glared. “Maybe if you weren’t taking so long—!”

“Then stop distracting me and let me finish.”

“Then hurry up, you grumpy asshole!”

That seemed to flip something in John.

He slowly stood, rising to his full height, and took a single step forward—slow, deliberate, almost threatening.

You instinctively backed up, only to bump into something solid. Broad. Warm. Bob. You hadn’t realized he was standing directly behind you now.

You gulped, trying to ignore the sudden heat blooming between your thighs. John was looking down at you, shoulders squared, jaw ticking. Behind you, Bob’s quiet presence only added to the intensity—another large body caging you in.

John narrowed his eyes.

“Do you just like bitching at me about how I do my job, or are you always this fucking bratty?”

You blinked. Only in bed, usually. The thought slipped out before you could stop it.

“What was that?” he asked, voice sharp, although you’re almost certain he heard you.

Shit. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Bob cleared his throat behind you, a nervous note in his voice. “Hey, John… maybe we should just—”

“No, Bob,” John interrupted, gaze never leaving yours. “I think this little tease has something to get off her chest.”

You suddenly became hyper aware of the robe clinging to your soaked skin. Your nipples, hard from cold and arousal, pressed through the thin satin. You shivered, though you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or the way their bodies loomed close.

“What’s your problem, huh?” John murmured. “You wanted two guys to come up here and hate-fuck the attitude outta you?”

Your breath hitched.

You weren’t exactly denying it. If anything, part of you wanted to push him further, just to see what he’d do, while the rest of you ached for him to take control and ruin you for mouthing off.

John stepped in close again. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up. His lips crashed into yours—hungry, rough, all tongue and teeth. You whimpered into it, knees buckling slightly as he deepened the kiss.

Bob caught you from behind, hands landing firmly at your hips to steady you. Your ass rocked back against his crotch, and you felt it—him—hardening through his jeans.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he leaned in and kissed you next. Slower. Sweeter. His lips moved like he was trying to memorize the shape of yours. His groan was quiet, breath warm against your cheek, and it made your thighs clench.

Your hands slid down between them. You cupped their cocks through the denim—both of them thick and straining against their jeans. John hissed, Bob sighed, and the sound nearly made you moan.

John didn’t wait. He shoved his zipper down with one hand.

Bob fumbled with his belt, awkward and flushed, and you smiled at how adorable he looked—shy and hard as a rock. You helped him undo it, brushing your lips over his in a soft kiss that made him sigh again.

Their cocks were out, thick and pulsing against your palms.

You wrapped your hands around them both.

John let out a low grunt. “Look at her. So fuckin’ eager.”

“She’s perfect,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “…Feels good.”

You alternated strokes, slow and steady, your palms slick with pre-cum. Then you kissed them again—first John, rough and fast, then Bob, soft and warm. They tasted so different. One fire, the other honey.

It wasn’t enough. You needed more. They did too.

John’s hands rested gently but insistently on your shoulders, guiding you forward with slow, deliberate pressure. You bent at the waist, your back arching until your torso was almost horizontal, knees only slightly bent. Still standing but just barely.

You looked up at him through your lashes, lips parted just enough to let your breath ghost over the head of his cock. He twitched in your grip, and you smirked—just a little. Not enough to push him too far. Just enough to tempt.

“You gonna just stare at it, or put that bratty mouth to better use?” he growled.

Your smile faded as you slowly wrapped your lips around him, inching down, letting your tongue drag along the underside. He was hard, already slick with need, and you moaned deliberately, knowing he could feel the vibration.

“That’s more like it,” John muttered, hand tightening in your hair. “All that attitude, and look at you now, mouth made for cock.”

Bob remained standing behind you, hands skimming down your waist.

“Do you want me to…?” he asked, voice gentle, uncertain.

You released John from your mouth with a pant. “Yes,” you nodded quickly. “Yes. Please.”

John scoffed, degrading as ever. “Needy little thing. Can’t wait to get filled, huh?”

Your chest was bent forward, ass arched back, hands braced on John’s thighs as you took him into your mouth—his cock thick and hot against your tongue. Behind you, Bob aligned himself, his hands steady on your hips. You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your slick folds, and you braced for the stretch.

“I’ll go slow,” Bob promised, voice shaking.

John chuckled darkly, threading a hand through your hair. “Don’t bother. She’s soaked already.”

Bob pushed in.

You cried out around John’s cock as the stretch hit all at once, your body rocked forward with the force of it. Bob groaned behind you, shaky and deep, his hands tightening on your hips.

John’s cock slid deeper into your mouth. “That’s it. Choke on it, slut.”

You moaned around him, your throat fluttering. Bob’s thrusts picked up slowly, each one matched by the roll of John’s hips. You were their toy—mouth full, pussy stretched, your body nothing but sensation.

Bob let out a soft, broken groan, his hips stuttering as he eased deeper. His voice was barely more than a breath. “You okay, baby?” he asked and all you could do was whimper.

His voice trembled, like it took effort just to speak through how good you felt. “Fuck… you’re perfect…”

Bob leaned over your back, his chest pressed against you. One hand wrapped around to squeeze your breast, his fingers gently teasing your nipple as he pressed kisses to the curve of your neck.

John tangled a fist in your hair, tugging just enough to keep your head in place. “She likes being used. Likes choking on cock while we wreck her from both ends.”

You whimpered, unable to form words. Every thrust pushed you deeper into John’s cock, and every drag of Bob’s cock made your legs tremble. Slick dripped down your thighs.

Behind you, Bob was nothing but gentle—his hands steady on your hips, his touch easing rather than demanding. He whispered praises against your skin with every slow, deliberate roll of his hips, voice warm and low between soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. “Feels so good bein’ inside you, sweetheart.”

John felt your throat tighten around him and pulled away to let you breathe. After a beat, John guided you to stand up straight again, then lifted your leg, hooking it over his arm to open you wider.

Bob stayed behind you, cock still buried deep, both arms wrapped tight around your stomach. His hand slid down and found your clit, rubbing slow, precise circles that made your whole body jolt.

“One hole,” John muttered, stroking your cheek. “That’s all she gets. And she’s fuckin’ dripping for it.”

“It’s too much,” you gasped, overwhelmed, but you didn’t ask them to stop. Didn’t want them to.

“You can take it,” Bob whispered, kissing your temple. “You’re doin’ so good, baby…”

They started again—both of their cocks sliding into your cunt together, thick and slick, rubbing along each other inside you. The pressure was unbearable in the best way. You were so full you swore you could feel them in your gut.

“Ah—ah—fuck, yes—yes—” Your words dissolved into moans, barely coherent.

John lets out a chuckle that dissolved into a groan. “Can’t even tell which one of us she’s clenching around harder.”

Your legs gave out, but they held you up.

Every thrust made your vision blur, every roll of their hips pushing you closer to the edge. You sobbed their names, helpless against the tidal wave building inside you.

“F-Fuck—John, Bob—”

They didn’t stop.

Bob kissed your shoulder. “Go on, angel, come for us.”

John cussed through gritted teeth.

You shattered.

Your orgasm hit hard, ripping through you in waves. You cried out, thighs shaking as you came. A sudden gush of wetness sprayed out of you, soaking their skin, the floor, everything. Your body trembled with each pulse, barely able to stay upright as they kept moving inside you, drawing out every last drop.

And then they both groaned, deep and guttural. Their cocks twitched as they came inside you together, hot and thick, and you felt it fill you.

They slowed to a stop, panting. No one said a word for a moment, just the sound of heavy breathing echoing in the bathroom.

When they finally slipped out of you, you whimpered. Your walls fluttered at the sudden emptiness—sore and slowly adjusting after being stretched so full.

Your legs wobbled, knees giving a little, and Bob caught you in his arms, strong but gentle.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, a little breathless. “I got you…”

You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt it—hot cum slipping down your thighs in sticky trails, making you shiver. Your cheeks burned at the thought that both of them had filled you. Their cum, thick and warm, still leaking out of your swollen cunt.

John’s eyes dropped to where it dripped between your legs, then slowly dragged back up to your face. He groaned under his breath.

“Messy little thing.”

And then—with perfect timing—the showerhead sputtered, then kicked on, water pouring steadily.

John announces, gruffly, “Shower works now.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trembling.

Bob tightened his arms around you, nuzzling into your hair. “We should, um, probably test the water temperature. See if it’s all good.”

You smiled against his chest, the thought of another round already making your thighs clench. “Yeah… just to make sure.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

part 2

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

(i originally posted this on my other blog, but i decided to make a separate blog for fics)