He doesn’t mean for Y/N to catch him. He was just relaxing on his bed after a shower, wearing nothing but a towel and absently running a hand up and down his thigh, fighting the urge to indulge in one of his most secret pleasures. The fight was futile of course. So now Steve gets up, allowing his towel to drop to the floor while he reaches into the back of his sock drawer, his fingers meeting silk.
It’s a crimson silk parcel, held together by a black ribbon, which he sets down on the bed and unties with delicacy. The material falls open to reveal the secrets within and his fingers linger over the items, lip caught between his teeth. It takes all of 0.37 seconds to make up his mind and so he perches himself primly on the edge of the bed and lifts the first item from the bundle, unrolling the stockings one at a time, allowing the softness to ghost his fingers. He then raises a leg, daintily points his toe and slides his foot into the first one, rolling it slowly up his leg. He is careful to adjust it until there are no creases present and so that the band of lace sits snugly around his thigh. The process is repeated with the second and catching his reflection in the full length mirror he indulged in, blushes.
Steve loves stockings. He loves how they feel, like molten silk against his skin, soft and delicate to the touch. He loves how they look, the lace band resting just a few inches below the curve of his arse and how the darker colour contrasts with the paleness of his thigh. He wriggles his toes and allows himself a small, secret grin.
The second item is then retrieved, a pair of black panties. The small garment is lace except for the very front where a triangle of silk is outlined by ribbon embellishments. The back is shaped slightly by tight stitching that creates a ruched effect. When Steve slides these on, they rest serenely on hips, the back pulled enough to give an enticing view of the rounded cheeks of his arse. The front is snug and a little constricting but the silk feels good against the heat of his flesh. Another lip bite.
Steve is shameless but this is something private. He enjoys wearing these two pieces of lingerie. They make himself feel.. sexy. He runs a hand up his legs and hums softly when his fingers leave lace and meet bare skin and his cock gives an appreciative twitch, already filling out to half-hardness. He lays back on the bed, propped up by pillows and spreads his legs, pointing his toes and stretches out. The view is rather lovely. His bare stomach with the sparse hair trailing down to where the silk material of his panties pull taut over his growing erection, the paleness of his thighs and then the elegance of the stockings that cling to the contours of his legs. Like this, he doesn’t mind touching himself.
His fingers dance against the covered head of his cock, barely applying any pressure at all as they continue down the outline of his shaft. The softest of sighs leaves his lips.
Then Y/N walks in.
“Steve I thought you had left - ”
The words perish on Y/N’s lips, a silent gasp born in their place. Steve is frozen, his expression unreadable. He makes no move to remove his hand or cover himself up, even as heat begins to crawl up his neck and into his cheeks. Y/N just stares and unconsciously licks his lips.
Steve can see his brain working overtime, can almost hear the gears grinding. He can tell Y/N is trying to make a decision. To stay or flee. The signs are all there, weight shifting from foot to the other, hands clenching and unclenching, accelerated heartbeat…
Decision seemingly made, Y/N steps towards Steve, nerves twisting his belly and prickling at his skin. There’s a gleam in his eyes though that contradict his anxiety and once close enough, he climbs onto the bed and reaches out, tentatively placing a hand on Steve’s knee. For a few, long moments, Y/N simply stares at his own hand, a knot forming between his brows as he fully comprehends the situation he had just walked into. He clears his throat and lifts his eyes to Steve’s.
“This… These…” Why does his tongue suddenly feel like lead? He settles with, “You look good.”
In response, Steve’s breath catches in his throat, his next words coming out in a whisper. “Do you really think so?”
Y/N doesn’t reply, and instead slides his hand up along his thigh. His fingers trace the lace band, much like Steve’s had before, following the slightly raised pattern until it meets skin. An ache begins to settle between Steve’s leg, the close proximity making his cock throb.
“Y/N…” The name comes out breathlessly. Y/N looks at him and Steve can see how his blue eyes have darkened, appearing glazed. Steve is not wrong about a lot of things and he hopes he is reading this right. “You can touch me if you want.”
There’s a fleeting few seconds of panic as Y/N doesn’t respond. Perhaps he’s come to his senses. Perhaps he’ll be disgusted and leave. Just as those ugly thoughts surface, and the beginnings of tears sting his eyes, Steve shudders as in that moment, Y/N has both his hands on the inside of his thighs and his coaxing them open. Their eyes meet.
“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch you.” Y/N’s gaze is intense as he shuffles to position himself between Steve’s spread legs, stroking his thighs and edging up to tease one of the ribbons on his panties. “These are a bonus of course.” He smirks and finally palms Steve through the material, pressing into his cock and moving in circular motions. Steve grunts and lifts his hips, throwing his head back against the pillows to reveal an enticing throat which Y/N moves up to nip at.
“That’s it baby, I got you.”
Y/N’s words only serve to add to the intensity of it all and there’s shuffling and more wet kisses on his stomach and “Nnnnh!” Something warm and wet slides against his cock through the material and Steve looks down, shocked to see that Y/N’s head is now between his legs and his tongue is dragging up the length of where his cock pushes against the silk. The action is repeated and Steve feels like his body has caught fire, tight and hot. Where Y/N’s tongue goes, it leaves a darker patch of material and now he’s pulling away and tugging at the waistband.
It’s almost too much but Steve lifts his hips to aid the removal. Y/N is relentless. Steve can’t help the startled gasp when he licks him again. He groans, fingers twisting in the sheets and jerking his hips. Then the head of his cock is engulfed in warmth, Y/N’s hands stroking up and down his legs as he sucks his cock. He hums around it, flattens his tongue and shifts to hook Steve's calves, hoisting them up until they rest on his shoulders. Steve's head falls back and he makes the loudest, lewdest sound Y/N’s ever heard. Steve could come just from the sight of his own stocking-clad legs hovering in the air and Y/N’s head bobbing between his thighs, glancing up at him from time to time with a look at that can only be described as sinful.
“Oh fuck, Y/N..”
Y/N keeps a grip on his legs, keeping them spread as he swallows around his cock, holding him at the back of his throat for a few seconds then pulling away, only to repeat the process. Another groan tears from Steve, the balls of his feet pressing hard into Y/N’s back, his thighs quivering. It takes Steve an embarrassingly long time to realize when Y/N has let go of one of his legs. It’s only when the muffled sounds around his cock become more frequent that he realizes, with a flush of pleasure, that Y/N is stroking himself as he sucks. The thought alone brings Steve right to the edge, lips forming silent words as he arches, body becoming rigid as he comes hard in Y/N’s mouth, suddenly finding his voice in time for a string of moans to escape.
He would be apologetic for giving no advanced warning but if the speed of Y/N’s hand is anything to go by, and the eagerness in which he swallows, Steve is sure Y/N doesn’t mind. Y/N releases Steve's cock and treats his roommate to a little show. The sight of Steve covered in a light sheen of sweat, flushed and spread out in those dark stockings is enough to finish Y/N off. He comes into his hand with a little whine, hips jerking erratically as his body sings.
The two are silent for a few minutes after that but the unanswered questions of where they go from here is a screaming presence. They would later question how they both knew but Steve simply asks, ‘Do you…?“ Answered by a breathy, “Fuck yes.”
It's well past midnight when Dick tumbles through the living room window. He sways a little on his feet and looks around, as if he's not sure what to do next. Y/N looks up from his spot in the corner of the couch, then sets his book on the table as he gets up. Dick was supposed to be back three hours ago, for Christmas Eve dinner and a nice, well-deserved night in, but – but so it goes.
Y/N gets his hands on Dick’s arms, rubbing up and down. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says, keeping his voice low in the quiet of the room. Dick’s attention snaps to him. “What's going on?”
Dick shakes his head, leaning his weight into Y/N’s hands. “Nothin’,” he says. “Tired. Busy night.”
“Hm, I bet,” Y/N agrees with a hum. “You okay?”
Dick nods. “Yeah, I'm alright,” he says, shaking off the last of that post-patrol haze he gets sometimes. “Just a couple bruises.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to Y/N’s in a light kiss, hands finding his waist, fingers tracing along the band of his sweatpants, ghosting along bare skin. He pulls away, swaying back on his heels, and there's a moment where Y/N just takes it in – Nightwing, in all his glory, standing in the pale night city lights, a soft, relaxed smile on his lips, all for him – before he's using his grip on Dick’s arms to reel him in again, kissing him harder, longer.
“C’mon,” Y/N says, when he wishes the feeling of Kevlar-spandex under his hands was Dick’s smooth, golden skin. “Bedroom.”
Dick goes willingly, Y/N walking him down the hallway with little urging, quick, lingering kisses all the way there, and Y/N closes the door behind them, an atmosphere settling around them almost instantly. The lights Dick strung up around the ceiling are lit, casting the room in a warm golden glow, and Dick’s suit looks out of place, the thought of their night jobs something too heavy, too dark for this space the lights have created.
Y/N rubs his thumb against the lower edge of Dick’s domino, and the sudden desire to see his eyes strikes him, vicious.
“Let me,” he says, eyes following the movements of his thumb, and he catches Dick biting his lip from the corner of his eye. He runs his free hand up Dick’s shoulder and down over his arm, trails his fingertips against the stripe across his chest. “Let me take care of you,” he says, and his voice is already rough and halfway to wrecked, but he knows Dick is there, too, knows Dick loves being cared for, looked after, loves having nothing to do but receive affection.
He nods, tilting his head up into Y/N, and Y/N lets his hand fall from the domino to Dick’s mouth, traces his thumb along his bottom lip, pressing in and pulling down a bit, until Dick whimpers, a quiet, swallowed sound, but it's the one Y/N was looking for, one that drives him crazy every time.
He steps away from Dick, then, which earns him another noise, a low whine of protest, and Y/N hurries up where he's mixing the chemicals to break the domino seal, gathering the cotton pads and the washcloth.
When he returns, he hands Dick the chemical bowl to hold, and he gently, carefully, slowly, runs the pads along the edges of the domino until they begin to peel up just slightly, and then he's taking the chemicals from Dick, picking at the edge of the mask to pull it completely off, the material placed onto the dresser next to the chemical bowl. He takes the washcloth, after that, murmurs at Dick to close his eyes, and he runs the warm, damp cloth over Dick’s face, cleaning away the chemical residue, the grime the city always seems to leave on their skin.
Dick’s face is a slight pink when he's finished, and he steps back, and Dick, eyes still closed, leans forward after him until Y/N catches his chin between his fingers, and then Dick’s eyes flutter open, his eyelashes long and ridiculous and so fucking beautiful, looking up at Y/N like he's something good, like he's something Dick wants.
“Should get you out of the suit, too,” he says, and Dick mumbles an assent, body pliant to Y/N’s urging. Dick disabled the suit’s security when he climbed back through the window, so all Y/N has to do is get it off, trailing his fingers along the lines of Dick’s shoulders to his neck, freeing the zipper to pull it down, sliding the fabric off Dick’s arms as he goes, caramel-golden skin revealed in its wake.
He gets the suit down, tugs it past Dick’s hips and holds onto each of Dick’s legs to pull it all the way off, and he makes the mistake of looking up from where he's kneeling on the floor. Dick’s eyes are closed, again, his head tilted up towards the ceiling, and – and they haven't even done much, yet, besides the kiss in the kitchen, and Dick’s already looking like this. It's ridiculous, Y/N thinks, ridiculous and hot and a constant, heady reminder that Dick wants him, wants his touch and his care and his attention.
Y/N stands, and Dick opens his eyes, and Y/N’s nearly distracted by the way Dick looks under the lights – now that Nightwing’s been put away – the edges of his body turned soft, bright spots of light reflecting in his eyes. He guides Dick backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he presses his hands on Dick’s shoulders to get him to sit, going willingly, eyes wide and blue and exactly the thing Y/N wanted to see, looking up at him.
Y/N looks back, gaze wandering, and he slides his hands up from Dick’s shoulders to the sides of his face, palms wide and rough-warm on his cheeks, and Dick’s letting him drive this thing – has been since the beginning, like usual – but they're reaching a point, now, the edge of something, rising up between them, under Dick’s skin. His skin is hot to the touch, warm under Y/N’s hands, and he imagines he can feel the heat from his chest even from where he stands between Dick’s open knees, increasingly familiar and so, so inviting.
Dick’s skin is soft, chin a little rough with faint hair, and Y/N runs his thumbs over his cheekbones, tracing the lines of them over and over. He could stare at Dick forever, he thinks, at the lines of his face and the shapes of his features, never tiring. Y/N follows the line of his nose, curving into a flat point and falling into full lips, bitten flush. He lingers there, finds himself leaning forward, but he isn't ready to fall into him yet, and so he pulls his eyes away, brings them up and up until he meets Dick’s gaze, heavy-lidded and focused. He's watching Y/N, pupils huge and dark, ocean eyes black like the sky, and it's so heady, knowing that's for him, so much better than any high could ever possibly be. Dick Grayson, the picture of desire, for him and only him – it's dangerous, addicting, delicious.
It's enough to draw him in, to take him over, and Y/N holds his face still as he leans in, kissing him, finally, pressing their lips together in something chaste, almost sweet, contradictory to the fire Y/N can see in Dick’s eyes, is sure is reflected in his own. It's short, a simple press, before Y/N’s pulling away again, flicking his gaze between Dick’s eyes. He shifts his hands, sliding one back over Dick’s ear to wrap into his curls, around the back of his head, and the other falls to Dick’s chest, curled into a half-fist to hold onto him, and then – and then it's like the collision of two black holes, swirling around and around until they finally, finally sink into each other. Y/N presses their lips together, tightens his hand in Dick’s hair, and then Dick’s pressing back, one arm tight around Y/N’s waist and his other hand a wide heat on the side of Y/N’s neck. He tilts Y/N’s head, kisses him deeper, traces his tongue along the seam of their lips until Y/N gasps, and then he's everywhere, pushing himself into Y/N’s mouth as he pulls Y/N down, down onto him, the two of them falling back onto the bed, Y/N against Dick’s body.
Their chests press together, Dick’s inhales shifting Y/N’s body against him, and they've still got their hands curled into each other. Y/N kisses him harder, feels Dick’s heart where he's resting, and then he's pulling away to mouth along Dick’s jaw, sucking lightly at the bone and then down his neck to his collarbone, biting carefully at the skin there until he's left a red mark that'll last at least a couple days.
Dick’s hand has moved into Y/N’s hair, and he uses it to tug Y/N back up, to bring their lips together again, kissing Y/N’s mouth open all over again.
Dick likes kissing, Y/N knows, loves the weight of another pressing him into the couch, the wall, the bed, loves the push and pull and slide of lips and tongue; he'd happily let Y/N kiss him for hours, would gladly kiss him back until their lips are red and sore, until Y/N’s forgotten everything outside of Dick and the way he feels, his body and his breaths and his lips.
And Y/N – Y/N loves that he has this, has Dick, that he's allowed to press Dick into the couch, the wall, the bed, allowed to kiss him for hours and hours, that Dick’s chosen him, let him in and held onto him despite the masks and the troubles that seem to follow Y/N everywhere.
Dick slows their kissing, gentling his pulls on Y/N’s lips until he comes to a stop, eyes lidded but trained on Y/N, warm, searching.
“What's wrong, Y/N?” he asks, voice soft and hoarse in a way that drives Y/N absolutely crazy. Y/N shakes his head slightly, gaze tracking around Dick’s face.
“Nothing’s wrong, gorgeous,” he says, carding his hand through Dick’s hair. Dick squints at him, disbelieving.
“You're thinking too much, I can tell,” Dick tells him, freeing a hand to rub his thumb at the skin between Y/N’s eyebrows. Y/N shrugs.
“Just about how pretty you are,” he says, dropping a short kiss to Dick’s lips.
“Sure,” Dick says, rolling his eyes. “It's Christmas Eve, Y/N,” he says, hands moving to thread into Y/N’s hair. “Relax. I'm not going anywhere.”
“So you keep saying,” Y/N says, and Dick’s got a hand in his hair again, fiddling with the curls, rubbing at his scalp.
“So I'll keep saying,” he says, an edge to his voice that's sure, certain in a way Y/N doesn't think he could ever be. He sighs, tilts his head as he looks at Y/N. “I'm sorry about our plans,” he says, and Y/N rolls his eyes.
“Don't worry about it,” Y/N says, almost like a scoff, and he pushes up from Dick’s chest for his lips, kissing him again, deep and sure. The nothing is guaranteed goes unsaid, this time, and maybe it's the holiday spirit, or maybe it's just the way Y/N losses himself in Dick every time they're together, but for once he doesn't feel the need to remind him of it, doesn't want to break this mood they've created.
Y/N pulls back, says, “You're here now,” and the smile that gets him is bright, blinding, brilliant, and his heart must be in his eyes, but when Dick looks at him like that he can't find it in himself to care.
That beautiful, beautiful smile turns into something mischievous in a blink. “Better get to making the most of it, then,” he says, rolling his body up into Y/N’s, and god does that never stop doing things to Y/N, takes him from zero to a hundred in less than a heartbeat. Dick’s body is sinful, lithe, corded muscle and powerful, carefully controlled movements – and Dick knows it, knows how to use his body and how to use his body, a masterpiece of self-awareness and control, the peak of physicality in every aspect of the word, and it never fails to make Y/N a little heady.
“God you are magnificent,” Y/N tells him, a little breathless, and maybe he didn't quite mean to let that slip, but it's the truth and he's been meaning to say that more often these days. “Stunning.” There's a light blush coloring Dick’s cheeks, now, and Y/N rubs his thumbs against the lines of his hips. “Absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”
Dick presses his hands against Y/N’s chest, looks down, away from his face. “Come on, quit it,” he says, more of a mumble, a faint kind of laughter behind the words, and Y/N shakes his head, frees one hand to run through Dick’s hair, to cup his chin and turn those eyes back to Y/N.
“I won't,” Y/N says, “Not till you really believe how much I'm in love with you, babe.”
Dick’s eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes ridiculous and long, casting flickering shadows on his cheeks, and he shifts in Y/N’s lap, which causes them both to hiss. Dick leans forward until he can kiss Y/N, heat and velvet soft, and he's keeping up a vague rhythm with his hips, and Y/N’s thinking he might be done before they even begin.
“Love you, too, Y/N,” he murmurs, pressed into Y/N’s lips, and it's a steady movement, now, rolling hips with the intent to get off, and a part of Y/N wants to do more that just this, wants his hands, his mouth on Dick, wants the tight heat of a good fuck, but this – this fits, somehow, the atmosphere they're still in, something not quite gentle but not rough, either, just desperate enough, and Y/N does rather like the way it makes him think about the early days of their relationship, half the time too eager to get any clothes off at all, on each other like teenagers who'd never gotten off.
When Dick comes, Y/N feels like he's looking at a painting, some new age masterpiece of passion and pleasure and total surrender. There's a pink hue to his golden skin, and his head’s tilted back, the column of his throat endlessly inviting, and some of his curls are sticking to his forehead, and his mouth’s open in a soundless shout, and – and it's enough to send Y/N himself over the edge, always is, Dick lost in the pleasure Y/N’s brought him to.
“God, I love you,” Dick says, still breathing hard, and he looks down at Y/N with that stupid, stupid smile like he hasn't just had his mind blown, and what's Y/N supposed to do but stare up at him, honestly, looking like that.
Y/N shifts his hands from Dick’s hips to trace up his sides, over his shoulders, up his neck, and into his hair, a little damp and sticking a bit to his fingers. He drags Dick down for a kiss, something filthy and messy until it turns into something slower, sweeter, as Dick comes down, bringing Y/N with him.
“Got a bit of a mess to clean up, there, Dickie,” he says, once Dick’s sat back up, and he watches as Dick swings his leg around, pushing himself off the bed. He's halfway to the bathroom when he pulls his boxers off, wadding them up on the floor to be cleaned later. Once he's reached the doorway he turns, a grin and a raised eyebrow in response to Y/N’s open staring.
“You coming or what?” he asks before disappearing, turning the water on as Y/N definitely does not launch himself out of the bed, shedding his sweatpants on the way.
He comes up behind Dick, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Merry Christmas, Dick,” he says, quiet, and he knows Dick’s smiling without even having to see his face.
Jason never hated Y/N more than when the man was inside him. Sure, Y/N was an asshole at the best of times, and Jason couldn’t wait until the moment he tore him down and his whole stupid empire with him, but when Y/N had him bent over and panting, a side of the older man came out that Jason absolutely despised. Unfortunately, his body had a different reaction to this Y/N.
“That’s it sweetheart, tighten up this hole for me like a good little bitch” Y/N crooned sickly sweet behind him.
“Nngh, fuck off” Jason responded, grinding his burning face into the cool wood of Y/N’s desk. He hated that Y/N could get him this worked up from just a few fingers.
“The big, scary Red Hood” Y/Nchuckled “well look at you now, whore.”
Jason blinked overwhelmed tears out of his eyes, yeah, the asshole had a point. He was sure he cut a pretty pathetic figure, bent at the waist over Y/N’s large mahogany desk, hands pinned behind him by his own zip-ties, jerking up onto his toes at every thrust of Y/N’s gloved hand into his slick hole, and whining softly the whole time. He couldn’t see Y/N, but he could imagine the smugness in his eyes as he sat in his huge office chair behind Jason, sipping a glass of whiskey in one hand whilst the other relentlessly abused his ass.
Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he bratted his way right past Y/N’s warning glare and found himself manhandled onto the ground and bound up. Y/N had moved him to the desk only after choking him out against the floor and growling into his ear about being put in his place and getting what was coming to him. Since then, satisfied by Jason’s submission as his lax body was shoved over the desk, he had been lazily grinding his black leather gloved fingers into the boy’s prostate.
“Give it up, boy, it’s your own time you’re wasting” It was the amused patronising tone that got to him the most, made him want to fight tooth and nail and to bear his neck in surrender at the same time “C’mon Jay, let out that needy little slut we both know you are deep down.”
“Shut -uhn- up, you-” Jason grunted out. He was so tense he could feel the zip ties cutting into his wrists, could feel every pant of hot air into the space between his face and the wood, could feel each miniscule movement of Y/N’s hand.
Y/N hummed in amusement, pulling his hand out and wiping it on Jason’s asscheek like the boy was nothing more than a dirty rag. Jason let out a sob at the treatment, only to choke on air as he felt both of Y/N’s hands grab his cheeks and pull them apart. It was something about the exposure, or the hot stab of the objectification that finally made him break down.
“Daddy, daddy, pl-please” he whined. He could barely recognise his own voice.
“Ah, there we are, sweetheart. There’s my good boy” Y/N pulled away for a second, chucked softly at Jason’s heartbroken sob at the sudden loss of sensation.
Jason was limp as Y/N pulled him up by his bound hands and turned him until he was standing on shaking legs, still caught up in his own pants, and facing the older man.
Y/N shushed him softly, reaching out place his hands on the boy’s trembling hips and staring into his cloudy eyes. Without dropping the eye contact, Y/N lifted one foot and stepped down on the pants bunched around his legs until they slid down his legs to the floor. Bolstered by the hands on his hips, Jason stepped out of the pants and followed the urging of those gloved palms until he was settled in his lap, hands still tied behind him, wet eyes wide and desperate.
“Hey there, pretty boy” Y/N lifted a hand and took Jason’s chin between his fingers, moving his face this way and that to admire the pink flush.
Jason, unable to turn his face away, scrunched his eyes closed as he blushed fiercely, for a moment hating how much Y/N’s words turned him to putty. “Daddy, please, daddy”
“Shh now precious, don’t you worry your cute little head at all, hmm?” Y/N shook Jason’s face like a puppy until the boy opened his eyes to look up at him blearily, “Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby.”
Jason hated him, he hated him so much. He hated him even more for the way that his words made the tears collecting in his lashes fall down over his cheeks towards his trembling lips. The humiliation made his stomach roll, but also made his still hard dick throb painfully.
“Do you want Daddy’s cock, baby-slut?” Y/N asked, still in that sickly sweet voice that Jason hated so much.
No, no. “Y-yes daddy, please daddy. Baby wants it, please.”
“Good boy” Jason couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body at the praise, “Get Daddy out, baby.”
Jason stared at him in confusion for a second, flexing his hands against their bonds. When Y/N didn’t move, just kept staring at him expectantly, Jason tentatively lifted himself on shaky thighs high enough so that he could reach down below himself to try to get his hands on Y/N’s fly. The movement twisted his body, shoving his chest up towards Y/N’s face wantonly, and Jason despaired as he felt the flush spread down his neck almost to his nipples, standing in needy peaks directly in front of Y/N smug face.
Y/N leaned forward, ghosting breath over one of Jason’s ample pecs, and waited until the boy had the zipper of his pants halfway down before sealing his mouth over one nipple and biting down.
The noise that tore its way out of Jason was halfway between a shout and a sob, and he felt his fingers lose their grip on Y/N pants. Y/N didn’t let up, sucking a deep bruise around the nipple, and Jason forced his clumsy fingers to find their grip again.
Y/N only released his chest when I felt cool air on his cock, freed from his pants and standing to attention between Jason’s taught, trembling thighs.
Even though he couldn’t see Y/N cock, Jason found his mouth flooding with saliva from just the feel of it and the knowledge that he was soon going to be filled. He experienced a brief second of clarity from just the horror that Y/N had so effectively trained his body to respond to him.
The clarity was chased away, however, when Y/N got a hard, bruising grip on his hips and used it to manhandle Jason’s body down onto his dick. Jason threw his head back and wailed as he felt the intrusion carve its way into his body. Despite the torturous amount of prep, Y/N still and always did feel huge when he was buried inside him like this.
“Fuck yes, that’s good” Y/N groaned, holding Jason’s body down on him for an interminable moment, “you were made for this, baby, body just made to take cock.”
Jason wanted to rip the guy’s head off for saying that, but instead he made a soft, keening noise of need and shifted in Y/N’s lap.
“Fine then, you needy whore, take what you want” Y/N growled, letting go of Jason’s hips and slapping harshly at his ass when he didn’t start moving quick enough.
Shocked by the sudden crack, and the pain that only stoked the fire that was his arousal, Jason quickly lifted himself up using just his legs until barely the tip of Y/N’s cock was still buried inside him. After taking a second to feel the rush of anticipation, he slammed himself back down, crying out at the feeling.
He was so caught up in the feeling of riding Y/N, filling that ache inside himself that only ever seemed to be assuaged by Y/N’s cock and filthy words, that he didn’t notice Y/N reaching over until his hand was clamping over Jason’s cock. He wailed at the stimulation, rutting into the tight grip desperately whilst still bouncing on Y/N’s lap as much as he could.
Y/N didn’t exactly jack him off, more held his hand tight and still whilst Jason adjusted his movement to push into Y/N’s hand when he lifted up off his dick. When he took a second from the bright, hot, overwhelming arousal to look down at the other man mid-bounce, he felt a lance of humiliated heat through his body at the cold, unaffected way that Y/N was watching him shamelessly writhe on his lap.
That one second of feeling so needy and pathetic, combined with the harsh grip on his dick and the relentless assault on his prostate, was all he needed to finally fall over the edge. He screamed, head thrown back, as he painted his stomach and Y/N’s lap with cum. He arched, tense with the aftershocks for a second before falling, completely limp, over Y/N.
He felt more than heard the rumbled growl of satisfaction that Y/N let out as Jason came. Before he had an opportunity to recover, he was being hefted up with Y/N’s dick still inside him and deposited sprawling over Y/N’s desk.
“My turn” Y/N lifted Jason’s legs by the calves until the boy was basically bent in half and started jackhammering into his body, still shaking with the aftershocks of the boy’s orgasm.
Jason wept from the overstimulation; high, breathless noises punched out of him with every thrust. IF he had any agency over his own limbs he was be desperately trying to get away from the aggressive assault on his overworked prostate and sore hole. But as it was, he lay there in Y/N’s grip, completely unable to do anything but cry and whine and shake.
“Da-daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” he didn’t know when he had started talking, didn’t know why he could only say that one thing. His mind was growing cloudier as his face got wetter, and he could hear his own voice become more and more incomprehensible as Y/N continued to ruthlessly fuck his lax body.
“da- duh- da- .. unhh” the whole world narrowed down to just Y/N’s hands and cock and cruel voice.
“What’s that babydoll? I don’t think you’re making any sense.” He felt fingers, still wrapped in those leather gloves, force their way between his lips and deep into his mouth, and all he could do was gurgle and drool around them.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” Y/N asked in a voice like one you would use to talk to a child or a particularly stupid pet, “That whore mouth should always be filled up, huh baby? It’s not like there’s any better use for it.”
Jason felt a trail of saliva drip down the side of his face as his eyes rolled back. At this point his cock had managed to fill back out and throbbed, red and heavy against his already cum-stained abs. Y/N showed no sign of slowing down, the slapping of his hips into Jason’s ass surely turning his cheeks as red as his face.
“Love you like this,” Y/N continued, seemingly unbothered by the way Jason was choking and gurgling around his fingers, “fucked dumb, nothing left in that pretty little head of yours. I should keep you like this all the time, baby. I don’t know what little whores need brains for anyway. Just keep you tied up and stuffed full, filthy with my cum, so you know your fucking place-”
Without warning, Y/N shoved his fingers as deep into Jason’s mouth as he could as he pressed his cock balls deep into his ass and spilled inside him. He stayed there for a second, ignoring the way Jason writhed underneath him, trying to rut his still hard cock up against anything he could reach.
Groaning, Y/N pulled out slowly. He stared at Jason’s wrecked hole, mindless to the way the boy was desperately pleading through the fingers in his mouth. When he saw his own come start to drip out of Jason’s twitching hole he removed his fingers from his mouth to move both hands down to his ass and spread his hole as wide open as he could.
Jason, lost in a haze of pleasure and humiliation and the desperate need to come, could only whine and stare pleadingly at the man above him, feeling stupid and small and pathetic. Y/N looked up for a second, meeting Jason’s teary gaze with cruel eyes before he smirked and purposefully, and slowly enough that Jason could tell what was coming, leaned down and spat directly into Jason’s already ruined hole.
Jason’s second orgasm racked through his body almost painfully. This time he couldn’t even scream, only writhe on the desk in terrible ecstasy.
When he came back, Y/N was sitting back in his chair, lighting a thick cigar and taking a drag as he looked with satisfaction at the mess he had made of the vigilante. Jason barely needed the pull on his leg to slide boneless to the ground and lean his upper body against Y/N’s leg. He was so exhausted he only blinked sluggishly as Y/N pushed the cigar against his lips and forced him to take a slow drag, all while carding his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, twirling the white streak around his fingers.
He kept his hand in his hair as he turned his attention to some papers on the desk and began to read through them, largely ignoring the filthy and half naked boy at his feet.
As Jason started to drift off, now on Y/N’s lap, he took a moment to wonder if it was really Y/N he hated or just himself for letting Y/N keep doing this to him. The thought was gone almost as soon as it arrived, lost to a haze of exhausted satisfaction.
He wished he could say that he managed to get his shit together after that first time. Jason really, really wished he could say that he didn’t beg for Y/N’s cock up his ass. Somehow…somehow that seemed like the worst part. Like somehow being a queer would’ve been more acceptable if he wasn’t the girl.
But Y/N always did fucked up things to his head and that was no exception.
“I’ll be your goddamn sissy. I’ll – Jesus Christ – I’ll be your fucking bitch boy, Y/N, just-just…put it in. Please. Please…put your dick in me.”
It’s been weeks since the first time and he knows that if Y/N made him, he’d beg for it again. He could make him beg. (He does beg anyway, sometimes, sweat-soaked and breathing humid air into his lungs, face buried into a pillow as he tries not to scream even though Y/N’s parents are never home anyway.) But Y/N never forces Jason to plead, even though he would be justified – more than justified – in wringing as much humiliation out of Jason as he can.
Jason understands, kneeling on Y/N’s sheets and trying not shake apart, he understands why people say you shouldn’t do this. It was everything everyone had ever warned him not to do, but he couldn’t stop wanting it – like most things he wanted, he guessed.
Nothing should ever feel this good – Jason felt sick with it, almost. Weak and hot and shivery.
And Y/N – never made it any easier. No…that wasn’t right. He never made it any easier to say no.
Y/N made saying yes too goddamn easy.
“Just a little more, just like that.” Cooing in his fucking ear like Jason really was a goddamn girl, one of the dumbasses who roamed this good for nothing town, smiling and batting their eyelashes at Y/N, but Jason couldn’t get enough air in to tell him to shut his mouth. Jesus, he never stopped talking. “Always so tight, Jason, but you take it so good. So good…”
Y/N talked to him like he mattered.
Jason felt Y/N’s fingers spreading him open, oil-slick, long and slender, and each thrust felt like it was liquifying all his organs. Turning him into a useless, desperate mess. Ass in the air and trying hard not pass out before Y/N even pulls his dick out.
He felt like half of the pillows in Hawkins were shoved under him because Y/N knew Jason couldn’t hold up his own damn bodyweight when he was getting fucked in the ass. Y/N had been so concerned that first time. So quietly worried. “Jason? Jason, baby, am I hurting you?”
He’d just chuckled at him then. Because Y/N wasn’t hurting him at all. He’d never felt anything that hurt less.
It still doesn’t hurt, weeks later, Y/N’s huge dick making him feel light-headed as he pushed into Jason’s body, firm but slow. A horrible keening escaped his mouth and he bit down onto the pillow before he could start wailing like a two-dollar whore. Y/N always just…went still for a moment when he bottomed out, held Jason by the hips, thumb caressing the skin on his lower back just above the swell of his ass. Just petting Jason. Admiring him, almost.
Y/N touched him like he mattered, was the thing.
Like Jason was something rare and sacred. It was too much. It will never be enough.
His skin was electrified, provided every microscopic sensation in beautiful, exquisite detail. The way he felt the muscles in Y/N’s thighs flexing against his with every shove of his hips. One hand gripping Jason’s shoulder and the other gripping his hip, massaging into his skin with those big hands. The silky brush of his lips on Jason’s back as he kissed him, whispering, “Jason, you feel so fucking good. Jesus Christ, I can’t handle it, Jason.”
Beneath him, Jason whined like a goddamn dog. Pathetic. Y/N fucked him good and steady, working into him with short hard thrusts that even made the bottom of Jason’s feet feel hot, his cock rutting into the pillow below him. He was drooling into the pillow below his head, tongue practically lolling out of his mouth. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted to cry – it just felt so fucking good. “Nnngh!”
Y/N groaned in his ear, kissing below his shoulder blade, and the sound made him hot, too. “You take me so fucking good, Jason. Nothing as good as this ass.”
Oh god, he needed this to be over, as quickly as possible but he blurted out something colossally stupid. Y/N was too goddamn slow, too tender and Jason was weak and trembling already. “C’mon, I already said I’d be your bitch,” he rasped, hoarse and fucked-out sounding. “Not your fucking girlfriend, Y/N.”
Behind him, Y/N chuckled quietly. The hand on his shoulder stroked through Jason’s hair, twisting a little handful – not pulling his hair, but gathering it up. Y/N kissed his bare neck, open-mouthed and sweet. Jason eyes rolled back. “Jason, you’re not my sissy or my bitch.” Curled his tongue around Jason’s earlobe, tugging gently on his earring. “You’re not my girlfriend.” A low whine buzzed in the back of his throat as Y/N suddenly cupped his balls, squeezing and rolling them in his warm palms. “You’re my princess.”
He was expecting a reaction and wasn’t disappointed. Y/N grunted and moaned as Jason shook, his dick spilling all over Y/N’s pillowcase. Y/N came as he clenched tight around his cock, his sweet little whimpers making his balls tingle.
Y/N kissed Jason’s back, hungry and lazy, still half-hard and rocking into him in slow circles. His ass felt tender, but Jason couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than letting Y/N use him again.
Y/N made it too easy, so he never said anything, even though they both know Jason came for ‘my princess’.
Leaning against his car, hands gripping around the rolled down window behind him, Y/N had to swallow hard to prevent himself from drooling when Clark lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his face, revealing his hard, flat abdomen. If the AI hadn’t taken Clark’s powers, then Y/N knew Clark would be alerted to his presence by how hard Y/N’s heart was beating.
As hard as farm chores were for Clark now, without his super strength, Y/N knew he should go over and offer to help, and soon he would, but for now he was enjoying the show too much to interrupt it. Even with the hard length of his cock pressing against the zipper of his dress pants.
So far, Clark didn’t seem to know Y/N was there, so Y/N was free to ogle to his heart’s content. Something he’d never allow himself to do so openly if he had an audience. Even if the only audience was the object of his lust.
When Clark bent over and picked up a bale of hay. It was a smorgasbord of delights - getting to see Clark’s ass in stark relief when he bent over, and then his biceps bulging with effort as he straightened with the heavy load in his hands.
Barely managing to restrain a giveaway moan, Y/N didn’t resist when his hand slid down his own abdomen and palmed his hard cock. He fought against closing his eyes, though, as he didn’t want to miss the sight of Clark continuing his farm chores.
Five minutes later, Clark looked like he was done. At least, there were no more bales of hay to be moved. Y/N licked his lips as Clark grabbed the hem of his shirt again, but this time took it all the way off. Y/N was glad the elder Kents weren’t home.
Even if they’d finally accepted his relationship with their son, they might backtrack if they saw the naked want Y/N knew was on his face right now. And, if they could read his mind, if they knew even a fraction of the things he wanted to try with Clark, Jonathan would probably go for his gun, and Martha wouldn’t stop him.
The thoughts only got more intense when Clark picked up the hose near his feet and flicked the switch on the pointed, copper nozzle. Water gushed out, and Clark held the nozzle over his head, shaking his hair under the spray, and sluicing a hand down his chest.
Knowing the water would cover any sound he made, Y/N didn’t bother to hold back a moan at the sight of Clark half naked and wet, strong hand sliding over his smooth skin, droplets of water clinging to his hair. When Clark bent over to run the water through his hair again, letting the excess drip to the ground, Y/N straightened up. He could no longer stand to just watch; he had to touch.
Before he got more than a step, however, Clark was shutting off the water, and loping for the barn. Y/N altered his direction slightly, and headed for the barn, too. With all the doors open, it wasn’t very dark, but the change in light did take a few seconds to adjust to.
When Y/N finally stepped through the doorway, it was to see Clark, still shirtless, standing on tiptoe and stretching high above the workbench to grab a bottle. Once he had it, he uncapped it, and poured some of the liquid onto the saddle in front of him, and then started to work it in with a rag.
Still not announcing his presence, Y/N watched the muscles of Clark’s back bunch and ripple with his motions. Drops of water were still clinging here and there, and Y/N no longer hesitated to move forward.
Sliding a hand around Clark’s abdomen, Y/N leaned in and licked at those stubborn droplets before Clark could even react. Clark started in his grasp, but leaned back as Y/N’s tongue touched his skin. “Y/N.”
Shivering at the breathlessness of Clark’s tone, Y/N didn’t answer. Instead, he moved on to the next droplet of water, and the next, sinking lower and lower, until he was on his knees behind Clark. Pulling hard on the waistband of Clark’s jeans, Y/N managed to pull them down another inch, so his tongue was gliding along the top of Clark’s ass, just dipping down in his crack.
Above him, Clark moaned and slammed his hands into the workbench, pushing his ass out against Y/N’s mouth. Smoothly getting to his feet, Y/N reached around Clark with his other hand, and started to undo the button of Clark’s pants. Only to have Clark capture his hands and turn in his grasp.
Before he could say anything, Clark was biting kisses into Y/N’s lips, and then licking at the sting. “Y/N, want you so bad. Please, Y/N. Please fuck me.”
Startled by the pleading in Clark’s voice already, it took Y/N a second to realize that Clark was trembling. Something he’d been doing for a while, Y/N suspected, only Y/N had been too preoccupied with Clark’s distracting body to realize it at first. “Jesus, Clark. What gotten you so worked up already? Making love to you is the plan, but I’ve just gotten started.”
The little cry of wanton despair that Clark let out had Y/N’s stomach clenching in sudden lust. “No! Not make love; I want you to fuck me! Please, Y/N. Over there.”
Looking in the direction Clark nodded in, Y/N saw hale bales stacked in roughly the size and shape of a double bed, with a thick blanket spread over them. He looked back at Clark with suspicion in his eyes. “Just how long did you know I was standing there, Clark? How long before I arrived did you know I was coming?”
The barked tone of his voice made Clark blanch, but he answered easily enough. “Sound travels far on a clear, windless Kansas day, Y/an, and you’re the only one in town with cars that sound expensive. Even without my super hearing, I knew you were coming at least five minutes before you got here.”
Y/N could feel his expression turn predatory, and judging from Clark’s small gasp, he could see it. Starting to move, Y/N half pushed, half herded Clark backwards towards the hay bales. “You want it that bad, Clark, then I can definitely oblige. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name, your parents’ names, the names of your birth parents, and the name of your home planet. I’ll have you coming so hard you’ll black out.”
Loving the whimpers already coming from Clark, Y/N started to undo his own shirt and shrugged out of it. Clark shivered again, and stared at Y/N’s bare skin. The look on his face made Y/N harden more, even as he started on his pants. “If you want me to fuck you, then I suggest you get naked before me, or I’ll be forced to satisfy myself.”
That had Clark scrabbling at his clothes, and even without super speed, was completely nude before Y/N could even toe off his shoes. Putting a hand against Clark’s chest, feeling the trembling Clark couldn’t control, Y/N pushed hard enough to get him to sit.
Clark let out a cry as his ass hit the blanket, and Y/N dove in and swallowed it up. Clark’s reactions were ratcheting up Y/N’s own desire and lust, and he plundered Clark’s mouth, giving no quarter to Clark’s lesser experience.
Continuing to fuck his tongue into Clark’s mouth, Y/an reached down and grabbed Clark’s hard cock tightly. Clark arched back with a cry, separating his mouth from Y/N’s. “Fuck, Clark. Look at you. You’re ready to come already. You want to? You want to come; take the edge off?”
Clark’s answer was to plant his fists behind him, and use that as leverage to fuck his hips up into the tunnel Y/N’s fist provided. He snapped them up hard and fast, and Y/N grabbed his hair with his free hand, and dragged Clark’s mouth back to his.
The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, but Y/N didn’t care. He twisted his wrist at the same time that he plunged his tongue deep into Clark’s mouth. Keeping a firm grip on Clark’s hair, he prevented Clark from arching away, and Y/N suddenly felt Clark’s cock pulsing in his grip.
Yanking Clark’s head back, Y/N looked at him with blazing eyes. “Watch me, Clark.” Waiting until Clark’s eyes focused enough to see him, Y/N looked down. When Clark’s eyes followed his, Y/N wiped the come off his hand and onto his cock, coating himself with Clark’s spend.
Clark’s cock, which hadn’t completely softened, twitched and Clark let out a weak moan. In spite of his recent orgasm, his voice still sounded full of desire; it was if he hadn’t come at all. “Yes, Y/N. Do it. Fuck me. Please.”
Fighting for control, Y/N took a deep breath, and then looked Clark in the eyes. “I’m not going to be able to give you lots of time for prep, Clark, so I’m giving you a chance to--”
Y/N broke off when Clark sucked two of Lex’s fingers into his mouth, and swirled his tongue around them once before pulling them free. “I want this. I want to feel you filling me, fucking in to me hard and fast. Don’t make me wait any longer. Just fuck me.”
Eyes blackening with lust, Y/N pushed against Clark’s chest. “On your back. Hold your legs spread, in the air.”
With a cry of excited arousal, Clark did as he was told, and Y/N’s breath caught in his throat when he looked down at the splayed form of his lover. “Oh, you kinky bastard. Jesus Christ, Clark, are you trying to kill me?”
Reaching down between Clark’s splayed, upraised legs, Y/an grabbed the base of the vibrating dildo he could now clearly see protruding from Clark’s hole. He took a few moments to enjoy the stretched muscle clinging tightly to the toy.
Then, grabbing the protruding base, he pulled it all the way out, looking at it almost clinically. “It isn’t as thick around as I am. It won’t have stretched you enough.”
Even though it was a statement, Clark’s broken voice answered him. “I...I told you, I want to...oh, god...to feel you.”
A growl of want made it’s way out of Y/N’s throat at that, and he dialed the vibrations up higher and plunged the dildo all the way back in. Clark’s cry that time was much louder and more prolonged, and he arched up into it, his hips coming right off the blanket covered hay.
Unable to hold back, Y/N did it again and again, all but punching the toy back in every time he pulled it out. Y/N, who had always prided himself on keeping control while with a lover, could feel himself start to lose it as he watched Clark writhe and pant below him. Clark’s hard cock slapping his stomach, hands clenched into the blanket as he pushed up every time the dildo worked into him.
The only reason Y/N hadn’t come yet, was that he was totally caught up in watching Clark. Focused on giving him pleasure, on wringing every sound out of him possible. Y/N became mesmerized by the sight of the skin around the rim getting redder and puffier as he worked the dildo, of seeing the tip disappear back inside.
Y/N had no idea how long he’d been fucking Clark with it, when Clark suddenly grabbed his wrist. “Now, Y/N! Goddamnit, fuck me now!”
Clark’s voice sounded unbelievably wrecked, but the hoarse, desperate sound had its intended effect. It snapped Y/N back, and he threw the sex toy across the barn, and thrust himself inside. Clark’s shout of, “Yes!” merged while Y/N’s inarticulate shout of ecstasy as Clark’s tight heat closed around him.
Y/N didn’t stop until he was all the way in, and then only to wrap his arms around Clark’s thighs to drag him even closer. Locking eyes with Clark, Y/N changed tactics, and started to slide in and out slowly and gently.
Making a sound of frustration, Clark pushed his ass back against Y/N, trying to entice him to go faster. Y/N kept an iron grip on Clark’s thighs, however, so none of Clark’s efforts were successful. “Be still!”
Reaching down, Y/N ran a finger up and down Clark’s turgid length, rubbing over the crown and dipping into the slit. “Wearing a dildo all that time; I’m impressed, Clark. You would have had to keep yourself clenched tight around it constantly, so it wouldn’t slip out. Did you like knowing you were wearing it while I was watching it? Wearing it in public, knowing at any moment, someone could come along for a visit while you had it in. Did it thrill you, Clark?”
“Yes! I kept thinking about dropping my pants out there and playing with it. I imagined what would happen if you saw me do that, and I pictured an audience forming, all watching to see what I did to myself.”
The defiant tone in Clark’s voice was a little ruined by how wrecked and hoarse he sounded, but it didn’t ruin the effectiveness of what he was saying. “Jesus, Clark! You’re much kinkier than I gave you credit for. I love it.”
Sliding his hands around to the insides of Clark’s thighs, Y/N extended his thumbs and pressed them against the outer edges of Clark’s rim. Within a hair’s breath of touching himself as he moved in and out of Clark.
Then, he was touching himself, as he moved his thumbs further in. Y/N felt the slightly callused tips of his thumbs catch on the tight skin of Clark’s rim, and pulled very gently, at first. When all it did was start Clark thrashing on the blanket again, Y/N pulled harder.
Moving his thumbs just slightly, they pushed down past the rim a small amount, and Y/N had to take a deep breath to help control his reaction to the extra pressure along his erection. Clark didn’t bother to contain his reaction. “God, Y/N! Fuck! Please stop teasing me, and fuck me. Please!”
A dark chuckle worked its way out of Y/N’s mouth. “Those vibrations really did you in, didn’t they? I certainly understand your desperation better, now. More intense than you were expecting, wasn’t it?”
Clark’s only response was a sharp cry as one of Y/N’s thumbs slid all the way in. Using his free hand, Y/N manhandled Clark onto his side, the change in position enabling him to slot himself closer and slide in even deeper. It also allowed his thumb to more easily hit that spot inside of Clark.
Pressing his fingers against Clark’s perineum, and his thumb on the small nub inside, Y/N was able to stimulate Clark’s prostate from inside and out. Clark’s moans became almost continuous, and only ratcheted up in volume when Y/N increased the speed and force of his thrusts.
Putting one knee up on the bales, Y/N was able to lean over Clark and better see his face, and get even better leverage for fucking into Clark. “You have no idea what you made me want to do to you when I saw that toy inside of you, Clark. The ideas it put in my head.”
Y/N had to stop talking when he really looked down at Clark. Hips tilted, back arched, mouth open in ecstasy, arms thrown over his head. He was the picture of seductive abandon, and the sight made Y/N’s pleasure spike to critical levels.
Giving one last firm rub with his thumb and fingers, Y/N pulled his hand free, and wrapped it around Clark’s cock. Matching the movement of his hand with his hips, Y/N managed to sustain his rhythm for several more thrusts before his hips started stuttering. “Come with me, Clark! Come, now!”
Almost immediately, Clark’s cock started pulsing in Y/N’s grip. The feeling of Clark’s release, and the scent of his pleasure, triggered Y/N’s own. Thrusting deeply one more time, Y/N emptied himself into Clark’s body.
For an indeterminate amount of time, Y/N’s entire body shook and his cock pulsed, even after Clark went limp below him. Finally, Y/N collapsed over Clark, resting his forehead against Clark’s chest. He stayed like that for several minutes while he relearned how to breath, and his heart rate returned to more normal levels.
The expected embrace never came from Clark, and knowing how his lover enjoyed cuddling after sex, Y/N was surprised. Lifting his head, he reached out and cupped Clark’s cheek.
When he still got no response, Y/N stroked a thumb over Clark’s face. “Clark?” When that didn’t elicit reply, Y/N slid up so he could better see Clark’s face. What he discovered made him smile.
Clark was unconscious. Y/N smiled, quite satisfied. He always did try to keep his promises. Although, he had to admit, they weren’t usually as fun to keep as this one had been.
cw. bottom! jonathan x dom! male reader, daddy kink, smut
there’s not enough jonathon fanfics 😵💫
Jonathan flinched as he heard the window slide open.
It’s not very late. Only about eight o’clock. He was just lying in bed, reading. Kind of stoned. He’s got on Metallica. Will has on The Clash. Every once in a while, one of them turns up the volume just a little more. Not loud enough that their mom will get distracted from whoever she’s talking to on the phone.
The mattress dips as a warm body settles beside him. Jonathan’s already breathing faster. Even before there’s an arm draped around him. Wide hand pushing under his shirt. Running over his stomach.
He can’t help the way he gasps. Squirms just a little when fingers rub across his nipple. Tweaking it.
“Hey, baby boy.” It’s a low voice. Silky smooth. Makes Jonathan want to shiver and melt.
He feels the erection pressing against his ass. How could he not? The thing’s huge.
“You smell like weed. Are you high?”
“Little bit.”
“On a weeknight? You know better than that… but I guess I’ll let it slide. I’m in a pretty good mood.”
Jonathan’s mouth is dry. He feels like he just took another hit. Warm and disoriented. Relaxed but hyper-aware of his own body.
“Been thinking about you all day, baby. At work. On my way home. Just imagining what I wanted to do to you.”
The hand under Jonathan’s shirt moves to the other nipple. Twists it much harder. Jonathon whimpers. His cock is filling out. He feels a little light headed.
“Shhhh. Shhh, sweetheart. You know you gotta be quiet if you wanna play… you do wanna play with Daddy, right?”
Jonathan takes a moment. Tries to breathe. He hates that question. Doesn’t want to admit it. If he doesn’t respond, though, then nothing happens. So he gives a little nod. Lets the book fall from his hands.
“Yeah, that’s it baby.”
Jonathan’s agreeable as he’s undressed. Shifts enough to help get his shirt and jeans off. He hears the click of a plastic cap.
Slick fingers nudge against his hole. Jonathan bites his lip.
Will is right on the other side of the wall. He knows he has to be careful if he doesn’t want to be caught.
He tries to be quiet when it really matters.
A thick finger presses into him. Jonathan’s breath hitches. He’s got one hand fisted in the pillow. Soft kisses trail down the side of his neck. Warm air rushes past his ear.
“So goddamn tight, baby. Fuck. You been good, huh? Not playing with yourself while I’m not here?”
Jonathan nods again. He doesn’t trust his voice. He doesn’t want it to come out all soft and warbly. Sometimes he does get himself ready. Fingers himself. Fucks himself on a dildo. Because the ensuing scolding is delicious.
He never knows when this is going to happen. Since the heat of summer set in, it’s been more frequent. Sometimes a few nights in a row. Sometimes a whole week between visits. If Jonathan’s out late hanging out with Argyle or something, he occasionally comes back and finds a note under his pillow that says miss you baby. He likes the excitement of uncertainty. Even if it’s sometimes inconvenient.
Another finger pushes in beside the first. It burns a little. Jonathan makes a small noise. The fingers only press in a few times, spreading lube inside him.
“You need more, sweetheart? Or you want it like this?”
“Like this.” Jonathan barely whispers.
Jonathan lets himself be rearranged. Rolled onto his back. He covers his face with his hands. Because he’s flushed. And pink. And he feels so much higher than he did fifteen minutes ago.
“Aww, come on. Don’t be shy. You’re so pretty, baby. Let Daddy see.”
He’s a little reluctant. But lets his wrists be pulled away. He keeps his eyes closed. Accepts the soft kiss that quickly turns deep, and wet, and overwhelming. He’s hot all over. Head spinning.
Then there’s a thick cock sinking into him. He moans. It’s too loud. Then there’s a hand clapped over his mouth instead of lips pressing together.
“Shhhh. Do you want someone to hear? There’s no need to act so slutty, baby. I’ll give you what you need. You just gotta stay quiet.”
Jonathan opens his eyes. Y/N’s curls are a mess. His tanned chest is flushed. He moves slow. Shallow thrusts, working gradually deeper. It hurts. Burns like hell. Jonathan can feel himself tearing up a little. He’s still rock hard.
Y/N takes his hand off Jonathan’s mouth. Drops down to his elbows, so they’re pressing together. So Jonathan’s cock is rubbing against his stomach. He rolls his hips. Deep in Jonathon now. They’re both panting. The mattress creaks under them.
“God, you feel so good. So perfect for me.” He murmurs in Jonathan’s ear.
Jonathan’s starting to relax a little. It’s easy when Y/N’s hitting the right spot more often than he isn’t. If they were in a car, parked out somewhere in the woods, Jonathan would be groaning. Whimpering. Asking for more. Harder. Deeper.
All he can do right now is wrap his legs around Y/N’s waist. Rock against his thrusts.
“Yeah… you like it, baby? You like Daddy’s cock inside you?”
Jonathan feels himself squeeze down around Y/N as the shock of heat lurches through him. He can’t help it. His cock twitches. He’s all fucked up. The way Y/N always fucks him up. Makes it so he can’t think straight. Just feels all floaty and helpless. Lost unless they’re touching.
“Fuck. Yeah. Felt that, baby. You getting close already? Love how easy you come for me.”
It’s embarrassing. Jonathan hates it. But he’s so turned on. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Maybe a dull ache in the background. He feels good. Light. Tingly all over.
He pulls Y/N into another kiss because he wants to. He likes feeling Y/N moving inside him. Likes getting tongue fucked and actually fucked at the same time. He whimpers into Y/N’s mouth. He can’t help it. Even though it makes Y/N stop kissing him. Hand over his mouth again. Jonathan likes that too. The mild claustrophobia. Not being able to talk. He doesn’t know what he’d say. Probably just that he wants more. Daddy please.
Y/N’s the one who uses that word. Likes to say it himself. If Jonathan ever says it, though, Y/N falls apart. It ruins him.
The thing that ruins Jonathan is that they do this at his house. His brother is right beside his room and his mother downstairs. She could walk past and hear this. Hear a man whispering in Jonathan’s ear about how good he feels to fuck. How well he takes Daddy’s cock. He’s not sure how she would react about this stuff. He has no idea what would happen if his mother possessed the information that Jonathan calls somebody else Daddy while he gets railed. It wouldn’t be good.
The danger of it is exciting. It’s exciting like getting fucked raw in a bathroom stall.
Y/N speeds up. He’s sweating a little. His mouth always hangs half open when they fuck. It’s not the worst sex face. Jonathan likes Y/N’s mouth. How soft it is. How big and full his lips are.
He likes Y/N’s mouth the best when it’s on his cock. All the way on it.
Jonathan grabs onto Y/N’e shoulders. Just to feel the muscle. Y/N’s muscular. He’s weirdly really strong and he’s tall. He can pick Jonathan up and toss him on a bed.
Y/N slips a hand between them. Wraps it around Jonathan’s dick. Rubs his thumb right underneath the head of it. Jonathon squirms. Tries to chase the friction. Y/N won’t give him anymore.
“This is all you need, baby.” Y/N smiles. “I know you’re almost there. You can do it. Wanna feel you come on my cock.”
The words bounce around in Jonathan’s head. Lighting up synapses. Releasing endorphins. Reinforcing the feedback loop of Y/N feels good, need more Y/N, need more and more until it hurts, and then the hurt feels good.
“Fuck me harder, Daddy,” Jonathan whispers.
He does it just because he likes to see what happens. Likes to see the gears seize up. It’s a gutpunch. Y/N groans. His rhythm stutters. It gets Jonathan exactly what he wants. Firm quick strokes with a tight grip around his cock. Y/N kisses him. Messy and desperate.
“C’mon baby, come for Daddy. You can do it.”
Jonathan does.
His hips jerk. He shudders. Squeezing and fluttering around Y/N’s cock. It’s a rapid chain reaction. Y/N groaning. Pumping into him fast and rough, then going still.
Y/N rolls off him after a moment. Lying on his back. Trying to catch his breath. It feels like the time Jonathan slept in a motel that had a waterbed. Like he’s rolling on a gentle wave. Somewhat detached from himself. In that pleasant, numb place, where he’s not thinking about anything.
“That was great.” Y/N’s voice has lost the edge. No longer as deep as he can pitch it. Jonathan can’t decide if he’s disappointed, or if it’s good that they aren’t playing the game anymore. He does have college tomorrow. He should sleep soon.
“Yep.” He pops the word a little. Giggles to himself. God. He’s still out of it.
“You’re a dork.”
“You fell trying to climb that window how much times?”
“Fuck you.”
“Thought you just did.”
Y/N rolls onto his side. Kisses Jonathan on the cheek. It’s nice.
He ends up falling asleep with Y/N curled up around him, maybe one day he’ll find the guts to tell his mom about their relationship. That one day can wait as he lays his head on Y/N chest. This really is nice.
i wanted to write a steve fanfic but this was requested more 😭
There are many reasons why Billy hates Hawkins, Indiana. Being uprooted and dragged away from his life back in Cali to this place is in his top 5 reasons why his life is shitty. All his friends are thousands of miles away, and he’s stuck here alone, surrounded by the local hicks, high school cows, and forced to spend increasing amounts of time with Max, and his pathetic excuse of a family.
It wouldn’t be so bad if he could get his rocks off every now and then, but in Hawkins, the queer population is exactly zero. And for good reason. You wanna keep breathing, you don’t mention the fact that you might have a proclivity for dick.
He makes do with his left hand as best he can.
There is one good thing about this pathetic excuse of a town though. Y/N. Big-dicked Y/N. Billy would know, he’s ingrained the glances of Y/N’s dick he gets to have in the Gym showers into his mind. He’s only allowed a glance or two though. Everyone knows it’s perfectly normal for guys to check each other out in the showers. You’re just comparing merchandise. Billy does more than compare merchandise. He’s not an idiot though, he’s subtle about it. And Y/N?
Billy likes his merchandise.
Y/N is fucking hung. In the showers, whilst he’s soaping up Billy gets a glance or two at him and Y/N even flaccid, is long and thick. The first time he got a look, he knew he was fucked. And sure enough, that dick has been the star of every jerk-off fantasy Billy’s had since. Billy can admit to himself that he looks forward to those one or two glances he gets to have of Y/N’s cock a little too much. It’s pathetic as shit, but not much else Billy can do in this town.
Today he’ll get another chance to catch a few glimpses of Y/N in all his glory. Or he thought he would, but when the guys hit the showers after practice, Y/N didn’t appear to be joining them. Great. He’ll just have to survive with images from last week then. He takes his time showering, stays longer than the other guys, everyone leaving till it’s just Billy and the weak water pressure. Doesn’t notice the new figure walking in until he starts his shower beside Billy.
It’s Y/N, naturally. He’s under the water, letting the water flow through his hair and over his face and isn’t acknowledging Billy’s even there. Billy’s heart gives a little jump and he realizes this is the perfect opportunity. He stares, no one there to see him do it and Y/N’s got his eyes closed. So, Billy lets his eye drag up his body. From his calves to thighs, right to that tight ass, across his lean torso and then down to his cock and balls.
“Like what you see, Hargrove?” Y/N teases.
FUCK, Billy thinks, “You wish, Y/N” Billy scoffs looking away, but Christ, he can feel his face heat, his fucking ears burning, those traitorous bastards.
When he looks over at Y/N again, he’s smirking at him, washing over his torso with soap.
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” Y/N remarks.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” Billy retorts, and shoves Y/N’s shoulder, stepping into his space. Billy’s heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest.
“It means, I’ve seen you looking before Hargrove, and not like how the other guys look. You look and for a split second, your face changes.” Y/N smirks at him.
Billy’s gonna fucking kill him, his breathing is increasing and he’s tensing up, waiting for Y/N to make the accusation. “Yeah? How does my face change, hmm?” Billy looks Y/N square in the eye when he says it, daring him to take this any further.
Y/N’s mocking smirk turns straight into a grin and he leans closer, Billy swears he sees him glance down at his lips for a second. “You get this look, of pure want” Y/N whispers, and then he kisses Billy, plants his lips firmly against his.
Billy’s whole body locks up and his arms shoot up to grab Y/N by his upper arms, planning to push him the fuck away and take a swing most likely, but Y/N stops kissing him all at once, and stares at Billy as he stares back, in mild shock.
“You gonna kiss me back, or just stand there stock-still?” Y/M says, smiling at him as if Billy’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen, and Billy’s freaking the fuck out right now. “Are you messing with me, Y/N? Cause if this is some kinda joke, I will bash your head in against these tiles” Billy warns.
Y/N leans in and whispers “Not a joke”, before planting his lips on Billy’s again. Billy relaxes, kisses back, and nearly melts into Y/N. Slides his arms up and around Y/N’s shoulders, gets his hand in that hair as he deepens the kiss. Opens his mouth and pushes his tongue against Y/N’s. Y/N wraps his arms around Billy’s lower back and pulls him closer. Their bodies collide and Billy feels his cock meeting Y/N’s, and fuck that feels good. They pull back, panting into each other’s mouths.
Billy glances down, sees Y/N’s half-hard against his hip and fuck, he’s huge. Blood rushes to Billy’s cock at the sight of it, and he knows what he wants. Has wanted it from the moment he saw Y/N in the showers. “You ever been sucked off by a guy before, Y/N?” Billy whispers.
“Fuck, Billy, no…not by a guy” Y/N pants out, his pupils wide.
“You wanna be?” Billy says, licking his lips.
Y/N nods, “Yeah, please…?”. That’s all Billy needs, he drops to his knees in front of Y/N, the tiles hard beneath him. Y/N’s cock is a fucking work of art, long and thick, curving upward. Billy takes a hold of him, feels the weight of him in his hand, the girth. And looks up at Y/N through his eyelashes.
“Fuck, look at you,” Y/N says, pushing his hand through Billy’s hair, practically petting him. Billy smirks and then licks straight up from the base of Y/N’s cock to the head before taking the head into his mouth and swirling his tongue. Y/N groans above him, and Billy can taste the precum that’s gathered at the tip. Gripping Y/N’s hips, Billy works on taking him deeper, bobbing his head and using his tongue to swirl around the head of Y/N’s cock. Billy loves this, hasn’t had it for weeks since moving to Hawkins and he plans to make the most of this opportunity.
Y/N is panting above him, making all these soft noises. Staring down at Billy like he can’t believe he’s real. “God, Billy” he pants out and Billy would smirk if his mouth wasn’t so full. He’s good at this, knows it, but Y/N is the biggest he’s ever had. Billy’s determined to make this the best head Y/N has ever gotten though. So, he closes his eyes and takes as much of Y/N into as throat as he can. Concentrating on not gagging and feeling the head of Y/N’s cock hit the back of his throat and pushes further.
Y/N lets out a noise that’s close to a shout and Billy opens his eyes and pulls off, panting. “Gotta stay quiet for me, Y/N. Can’t have anyone hearing” Billy says, and he continues to mouth at the head of Y/N’s cock. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be quiet” Y/N pants out. “You’re just, like, really good at that” Y/N says with a huff of laughter. This time, Billy does smirk, “Yeah, I know” and then promptly swallows Y/N down again. Y/N makes a cut off sound and Billy looks up as he’s bobbing his head to see Y/N biting into his fist
Billy can tell he’s gonna blow soon, so he really goes for it. Closing his eyes, he bobs his head faster, swirls his tongue around the head of Y/N’s cock and concentrates on getting as much of him into his mouth as he can manage. He’s got a pretty good rhythm going when Y/N’s grip in his hair starts getting tight, “Billy I’m gonna cum” Y/N manages to get out between the pants and small noises he’s making. Billy’s gives him all he’s got, increases his speed as much as he can, jaw aching and lungs burning until Y/N suddenly grips his hair tight and pushes his cock as far into Billy’s throat as it’ll go and then coming. Billy gags, grip tightening on Y/N’s thighs as he struggles to swallow the cum filling his mouth. Manages most of it but some leaks out past his lips. When Y/N finally comes down from his climax, he pulls out of Billy’s mouth.
Billy’s keeps his eyes closed and pants for air. Then Y/N is gripping his chin and bending over to lick the cum from the side of his mouth before plunging his tongue into Billy’s mouth. Billy’s too tired to do much of anything, but slowly kiss back, letting Y/N explore his mouth with his tongue. Can likely taste himself, and Billy’s own cock throbs with the thought.
Eventually Y/N pulls back, and Billy opens his eyes to see Y/N regarding him. “You alright?” Y/N asks, and Billy huffs out a laugh.
“I’m so good, Y/N,” Billy says, still laughing. Y/N smiles at him before his eyes travel lower to Billy’s own painfully hard cock. “You want help with that?” He asks looking hungrily at Billy. Billy’s surprised but also fucking delighted, he thought Y/N would awkwardly thank him and then leave Billy in his own state of painful arousal. “What, you offering to help, handsome?” Billy says, raising an eyebrow at Y/N.
Y/N looks up at the two shower heads still spraying now, lukewarm water, before shutting them both off. “Lie back,” He says gesturing with his hands for Billy to lie down.
“On these fucking tiles? I don’t need fungus growing on my balls, Y/N.” Billy says, cause really, is he dumb?
“Yeah okay, fair enough, uh,” Y/N looks around before he seems to come to an idea. “Here, over here then,” he says offering his hand for Billy to take in getting up, which he does. Y/N leads him to the benches, between the row of lockers in the changing rooms. “Lie down.” Y/N instructs.
Billy doesn’t usually enjoy people telling him what to do, but he's excited for what Y/N has planned for him, so he lays back on the bench. Y/N smiles before planting his knees between Billy’s on the bench and bending over to hover his face above Billy’s dick. And holy fuck, Billy isn’t going to last long. “I’ve, uh, never actually done this before so, um,” Y/n mutters looking up at him.
“Yeah, figured as much Y/N, but I’m about two seconds away from blowing my load so you won’t need to do much,” Billy says, pushing his right hand through Y/N hair. “Right,” Y/N says, laughing a little before he licks right up Billy’s cock and takes the head in his mouth. “Fuck,” Billy exclaims, before biting down hard into his bottom lip to quiet himself.
Y/N was by no means an expert, but the mere sight of him looking up at Billy whilst he bobbed up and down had Billy’s gut tightening, and his orgasms rising fast. But fuck, Billy doesn't want this to end so fast, so he pants out a breath and tries to quell his orgasm.
Y/N was taking more of him into his mouth, closing his eyes with a look of concentration. His mouth is so wet and hot around Billy, and better than Billy ever imagined. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking hot,” Billy says, stroking his fingers through Y/N hair.
Y/N hums, and then did something unexpected, takes his right hand from Billy’s hip and slides his index and middle finger down Billy’s perineum to stroke them over Billy’s hole. Billy gasps, his toes curling. He cums so fast and hard, he doesn't even have time to warn Y/N, whose eyes widen when cum hits his tongue.
Billy can't even stop the noises spilling from his mouth, his orgasm blazing through him, and he can only hold on as Y/N continues to suck him through it. When the last wave of it hit, and Y/N pulls off, Billy feels so blissed out and relaxed, he doesn't think he ever wants to get up off this bench.
Opening his eyes, Y/N was looking at him with amusement in his eyes. “What’s so funny, Y/N?” Billy says, narrowing his eyes and daring Y/N to say something to ruin all of this. Y/N laughs a little, “Think I did a pretty good job for my first time” he says, smirking at Billy, clearly noticing how blissed out Billy looks.
Billy smirks back at him, “Don’t let it go to your head Y/N, I haven’t gotten any in weeks since moving to this shithole” Billy states, finally sitting up.
Y/N looks at him in confusion, “You have like, a new girl at your side every week, Billy” Y/N says, frowning confusedly.
Billy wanted to laugh, Y/N really wasn’t the sharpest, “I just came at the feeling of your fingers on my hole, Y/N, you really think I enjoy my time with those cows?” Billy says, laughing at Y/N’s face when it clicks in his mind.
“Oh, so what, you’re just keeping up appearances?” Y/N says, laughing a little.
“Yeah, don’t know if you’ve noticed but being a fag isn’t really celebrated around here,” Billy says, which is true for pretty much everywhere, but Billy knows in Hawkins his life would only get so much worse if it got out. Or the short period of time between when it got out and when his Dad found out and promptly murdered him.
Jesus, wonderful post-sex thoughts Y/N’s inspiring. Getting up and grabbing his towel, Billy quickly dries off. Y/N doing the same at his locker. “You know, my parents won’t be around later if you maybe, wanna come around?” Y/N says. Billy glances over at Y/N, what was he offering here? “You looking for round two, Y/N?” Billy smirks. Y/N rolls his eyes, smiling and says, “No, I’m offering to braid your hair and paint your nails.”
“Well why didn’t ye say so! See you later then, Y/N!” Billy says as he finishes dressing, sauntering past Y/N, as he felt his ass get smacked. Maybe Hawkins wasn't so bad.
cw. male reader, awkward flirting, fluff, reader is also a hero/has powers
This was a bad idea. This was a very, very bad idea. Bruce watched Y/N over the top of the menu, as he was obliviously picking out what variation on a burger and fries he wanted. This was one of Y/N’s favorite restaurants, a little hole-in-the-wall burger place that Bruce was pretty sure only got through its health department inspections because it catered mostly to Metropolis PD. But if he was going to ask Y/N out, he wanted to put him in a good mood first.
So greasy burgers it was.
Y/N hummed along to the Elvis song playing on the jukebox. If it were anyone else, Bruce would have been grinding his teeth by this point, but since it’s him? he found it endearing. He’d only planned things out up to this point. He had no idea how he was actually going to go from Hey, Y/N, want to get lunch today? by the way, you maybe also want to go out on a date sometime? He'd long ago discovered that one of Y/N’s superpowers was flustering him, and he was half-sure he was going to mess up anything he tried to say.
The only line that popped into his head was, Are you sure you’re not from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see.
He mentally winced and promised himself he would stop spending so much time with Grayson.
“So what’s up?” Y/N looked at him expectantly. Apparently, he’d already decided on food. Bruce hadn’t even read the menu yet, and the waitress (decked out in a polyester Halloween-costume version of a 50’s soda fountain girl) was approaching. He had no idea what to order, or what to say to Y/N, and so ended up just staring at him like an idiot.
Y/N looked back down at his menu, almost ashamedly. “I know what this is about."
“You do?” His heart stopped in his chest. Y/N wasn’t smiling anymore. His expression was quite sour, in fact. Bruce fiddled with the wrapper on his straw so he had something to do with his hands, and tried to keep his face neutral. Did Y/N really know that Bruce was about to ask him out? And he didn’t feel the same way? Well, this is definitely awkward. Bruce had certainly dealt with worse things than romantic rejection before. Maybe if he played it cool they could laugh it off, and Y/N would go back to being friendly without them missing a beat.
Y/N took a deep breath, and spread out his hands on the table, like he was about to break bad news. Bruce’s hands clenched. “I’m sorry I let Dick use the Javelin without your permission, and helped him cover it up when he crashed it. I’ll help you build a new one.”
Bruce’s heart resumed its normal activity. “You two broke the Javelin?”
“You didn’t know?”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how he had ever thought this would work. “If I were angry with you, we wouldn’t be in this shithole restaurant.”
Y/N rolled his eyes. “I like this restaurant.”
“Exactly, Y/N!” Bruce waved his hands at the menu. “If I’d picked a restaurant based on what would please me, we wouldn’t be somewhere that calls French fries a vegetable.”
The waitress glanced at them and backed away, probably deciding she could wait a little longer to take their order.
Y/N sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Then, what’s this about?”
Bruce closed his eyes for just a moment and decided it was best to rip the band-aid off quickly. “I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner.”
“You asked me to lunch to ask me to dinner?” Now Y/N just looked confused. His left eye squinted a bit, the way he did when he was deciding whether someone was just being odd or if there was something more nefarious going on. Bruce kicked himself for finding it adorable. So not the time.
“Not the meal itself,” he said, like that cleared things up. “You know…dinner.”
Y/N squinted harder.
Bruce wondered why he had to be in love with someone who was so infuriatingly dense at times. “Dinner. Like…” he paused to unclench his jaw “…a date.”
Y/N’s face went blank, and Bruce started planning out the least embarrassing and fastest exit plan. Breaking a window was probably not appropriate, unfortunately. Then Y/N grinned like he was a little kid who’d just been told that Christmas was tomorrow. “Yes. Yes! But--I thought you weren’t interested.”
Now Bruce was the one squinting. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I came over a couple of weeks ago, you didn’t seem interested at all.”
A couple of weeks ago? Bruce tried to figure out what the hell Y/N was talking about. “You mean when you showed up in Gotham and followed me around on patrol? That was supposed to be a date?”
“I brought pizza.”
“Pizza does not mean it’s a date. Pizza is barely even food.”
Y/N shook his head in mock sadness. “If we’re going to start dating, you’re going to have to learn to not denigrate the food of my American heritage.”
“Burgers and pizza are nobody’s heritage, Y/N."
Y/N sighed like he was imminently disappointed, but his eyes glinted. “There you go again.”
Bruce pointed to the menu. “If I order a hamburger and fries, will that make you happy?”
Y/N smiled again. “Why, I could kiss you.” Then, dropping his voice to a sultry bedroom voice that Bruce had not even known he possessed, he added, “Right here, even.”
Bruce blinked in shock, and then quickly raised the menu so that Y/N wouldn’t see him blush. On the other side of the table, Y/N started chuckling. Damn x-ray vision. Well, Y/N would pay for that later. He already had plenty of ideas as to how.
Y/N breaks into a well-worked up sweat as the Mustang shakes and rattles from movement within the car. Small, metallic creaks and clinks of springs and God-knows-what-else fill the small space with noise, but nothing sounds better than his baby moaning with every thrust of his hips. His jeans are halfway down his legs, belt buckle clunking against some goddamn thing near the foot-well of the backseat. His t-shirt was tossed somewhere earlier, by a very ravenous Eddie Munson.
Speaking of the pretty boy himself, Eddie was bare naked, no jeans, no shirt- not even socks. His pale skin practically glowed under the shaft of silvery moonlight filtering through the window. His gorgeous hair was damp, soaked in sweat and sticking to his shimmering skin like dark tattoos. His lips were bitten red and swollen from Y/N’s rough kisses. And his nipples were aroused and bruised with several bite marks that Y/N had placed there. Little wispy, breathless moans escaped his lips with every thrust, nails digging into Y/N's shoulders as he held on for the ride of his life.
"So good baby." Y/N hears himself growling, halting his own hips in favour of Eddie’s hips grinding down on him. He grabs him by the hips, feeling the muscles ripple smoothly beneath his fingertips.
"Wanna ride you." Eddie sobs in his ear, sounding drunk and out of it. He pulls back and gazes at Y/N with those damn eyes, pleading. Please lemme ride you.
“Go ahead baby. Ride me." Y/N obliges with that signature grin, gazing up at his princess. God, it should be a sin to look so good, he thinks. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s navel, dipping just below to feel the soft, supple skin there. He's baby smooth, like heated wax down there, completely hairless, just the way Y/N likes it. Eddie’s cock is hard, the firm length pulsing and warm in his hand. Y/N strokes him, slow and languid, setting a torturous pace that Eddie forces himself to meet just to get that glorious friction on both ends. Y/N’s thick cock opens him so wide that he almost feels it in his throat. His gasp is stuttered by Y/N’s hands coming to wrap around his neck, choking him.
The way lovers do. That's what Y/N had told him the first time they'd tried it.
“Oh- oh my Go- uh!" He chokes, feeling his stomach start to cramp up with the tell-tale sign of an orgasm. His nails dig even deeper into Y/N’s shoulders, leaving angry, red marks like kitten scratches. He pushes himself to keep riding Y/N like he's in a fucking rodeo, thighs burning deliciously with every roll of his hips. Y/N keep gazing up at him with a smirk, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. He likes watching Eddie work for it. Turns him on like nothing else and Eddie knows it. He loves it too, that's why he's never complained.
Not once.
He loves working for Y/N's cock. Loves having to use his body to get his boyfriend off. It's the most accomplished feeling in the world and Eddie’s secretly addicted to it. It gave him a purpose- something he hasn't had in a long time.
"You close baby? Hm?" Y/N asks softly, voice low and raspy in Eddie’s ear. He nods, unable to form a coherent response at this point. His movements are getting sloppy now, and more erratic.
"M'gonna cum princess." Y/N growls before gripping Eddie by the waist and holding him still.
"Tighten up." He orders, exhaling slowly when he feels Eddies tender insides clench firmly on his length. "Good boy."
"Oh- Y- ...Y/N..." Eddie whimpers, actual tears slipping from his eyes, down his cheeks. He arches his back at the feeling of warm cum spilling deep inside him. His toes curl up and his head is yanked all the way back as Y/N pulls on his hair. The bad boy licks his tongue up Eddie’s exposed throat, biting at his Adam's apple. He barely makes a sound as he cums inside the cute brunette, grunting as his hips jerk sharply.
"Fuck Princess." He sighs, glancing down at the mess Eddie had made of them when he came. He slides a finger through the small puddle of slick and then brings it to Eddie’s plush lips. He sticks his tongue out to lick it up, but Y/N stops him with a grunt.
“Look at me baby. I wanna see you taste yourself on my fingers."
Eddie obediently holds his heated gaze before resuming. His tongue licks Y/N’s slicked up fingers like a hungry puppy, cleaning off his own mess. He swallows with a small, timid smile before collapsing against him.
Y/N holds him close, letting him snuggle into his neck while he lights up a cigarette, still buried deep inside the boy.
Dick stopped breathing as Y/N slowly stepped closer, looming over him until he gripped Dick’s arm, slamming him harshly against the wall behind him. A hand reached out, wrapping around his throat, squeezing hard. The man was furious and Dick found his heart racing more from fear than adrenaline.
Y/N reached up and took off his helmet. So the kid could see just how close he was to murdering him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” Y/N had been working this contract for months. He’d finally gotten intel on the target’s location, and tonight had been his best chance to take them out.
Dick froze under Y/N’s stony gaze. He could feel the rage rolling off of him. He tries to swallow down the panic clawing its way up his throat. Images flash through his mind of Y/N, snapping his neck with ease with more force. Ever since they got together, Y/N’s attitude towards him has changed. Sure, he’s still violent and surly, but any malice seemed to have faded away. He’s gotten angry before, but never to the point of forcefully taking it out on Dick. That’s not who Y/N is anymore.
“Uh would you believe me if I said I was sorry” he says sheepishly, locking eyes with Y/N. He chokes when Y/N hauls him up the wall with ease. Almost balancing on his toes to keep breathing. Now, though, he worries that maybe this time Y/N is angry enough. That what they have isn’t as important to him as Dick thought. Y/N’s heavy armor digs painfully into his skin. The metal plates feel cold and hard through his uniform.
Y/N leans in closer, his breath hitting against Dick’s face. Hot in the chilly night. “You lost me an opportunity to fulfill this contract. A golden opportunity for a huge payout. I intend to collect.” Y/N growls low, taking his other hand and his thumb roughly over Dick’s lips.
Dick mentally sighs in relief. So it’s less about killing him for costing him a contract and more than just Y/N being a sore loser. A few moments pass the air quiet except the sounds of their breathing. Despite being lowered down the wall, Y/N’s hand remains wrapped around his throat. He quickly realizes that Y/N will not be satisfied with just an apology. With him, there’s no such thing as ‘didn’t mean to‘ actions have consequences.
Y/N can tell when Dick’s posture changes as the fear subsides. He wants to be hurt, thinks he would seriously hurt him to prove his point, but he’s not in any position to judge. Y/N makes a mental note to bring that up with him later. “You need to be taught a lesson. I might consider going easy on you if you show me how sorry you are.”
“You really want me to beg,” Dick says. A small part of him wants to rebel against Y/N, tell him to just get on with it. The other part can’t deny the fact his cock is filling out behind his costume. Nightwing did not give up control easily. Growing up with Bruce, the man drilled it into his head the importance of always staying in control. Losing control on the streets of Gotham could mean death. Right now, he wanted to surrender. Let Y/N take or do whatever he wanted. “Please, Y/N, let me make it up to you,” he says in a pleading tone.
Y/N’s grip on his neck shifts, sliding up his face before pushing a hand in his hair. He kisses him, deepening the kiss with his tongue. He’s forcefully mapping every inch of Dick’s mouth like he could devour him. Dick moans into his mouth, meeting Y/N’s tongue with his own. It’s like Y/N is trying to steal his breath from his lungs. Then Y/N takes his other hand, placing it around Dick’s sides, caressing his hip. His hand slides down further to his thigh, pulling it up to rest against his waist, encouraging Dick. The boy takes the hint and jumps up, locking his legs around his waist.
Y/N breaks the kiss, dragging his teeth across Dick’s jaw before trailing kisses along his neck. He bites down, sucking a hickie into his collarbone before moving his mouth back up to Dick’s ear. “Will you be good for me, little bird?” Y/N says, slightly breathless.
Dick gasped, his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes fell shut as pleasure consumed him. He groaned, pressing back against the wall, giving him leverage to grind against Y/N. Dick was falling apart, mind only focused on the pleasure building within him. Whining desperately as the pleasure reached its peak. Dick fell apart completely, the sensations overwhelming him until he cums, his vision whiting out.
Y/N pulled away for a moment, taking in the sight of Dick looking absolutely wrecked. He enjoyed the slight tremors that ran through Dick as he came down from his orgasm. Barely giving Dick a minute to regain his sense, he set the boy down before pulling him along. “Safe house now,” he growled
Moments later they were in Y/N’s bedroom and Dick was being stripped of his costume. Dick sighed into the tender kiss he’s pulled into. A hand locks in his hair, holding tight, guiding him down until he is sitting on his knees. Dick’s jaw is held tight until Y/N forces a thumb, until his mouth falls open.
Y/N stares down at Dick sitting on his knees, mouth opening and feels his cock stirring. Running a gloved hand over Dick’s cheek, he walks over to his armor storage. Stripping down, he takes off his armor and puts up his weapons, informing the whine he hears behind him. He turns back to Dick, who hadn’t moved an inch since he turned away. Standing in front of Dick, he grabs his head, pushing him forward until his tight throat engulfs his cock. “Good boy. A slut like you can take it all, can’t you.” He growls, pushing Dick’s head down further until he gags around the cock in his throat. Y/N groans, thrusting his cock down Dick’s throat, relishing in the boy's feeling’s throat constricting around him. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Y/N grinned, watching Dick’s blue eyes darken and fill with tears.
Dick moaned around the cock in his mouth. He loved how thick and heavy Y/N’s cock was. Dick moans again as Y/N pulled him onto his cock over and over. Y/N’s thrusts grew erratic before he shoved Dick down to the base of his cock. He jerks at the feel of hot cum splashing against his throat. Y/N holds his head down, jerking at the last spills of cum filling up his mouth until it leaks out around his lips and over his chin.
Y/N growls at the sight of his cum splattered against Dick’s lips, a few strands dripping onto his chest. Picking him up, he throws him down on the bed, pulling at the restraints attached to the headboard securing his hands above his head. Leaning down, he spread Dick’s legs too, until his pretty pink hole was on display. Slicking up his fingers, he fucks Dick slowly. Twisting and pumping his fingers into his prostate with relentless force.
“You’ve been a very naughty little bird. Bad boys deserved to be punished.” Y/N purrs assaulting Dick’s prostate until he seizes up, clenching down on his fingers. He keeps going until Dick is shaking and crying from oversensitivity.
Dick’s head is consumed with the pleasure of running through his body. Sparks flash behind his eyes as he feels another orgasm building up. “Please Sir, fuck me” Dick begs, trying to push down on Y/N’s fingers.
“I don’t think you deserve it. This is the third contract you’ve interrupted.” Y/N runs his hands all over Dick. Tweaking his nipples, tugging at his cock with just enough pressure to drive Dick crazy. He loves watching him squirm on the bed while his body switches between wanting more and trying to escape Y/N’s grasp.
“Sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise. Please Y/N, I’m so empty. I need your cock.” Dick is practically sobbing at this point. He feels Y/N pull his fingers out before Y/N pushes into him. Dick groans at the stretch as the first few inches fill him up. Barely having time to adjust, Y/N quickly begins thrusting into his ass, hitting deeper with each thrust. The pressure rises again before Dick locks up, cumming untouched on Y/N’s cock. After that, he blacks out.
Coming to his limbs, his eyes felt heavy. Dick wanted nothing more than to sink deeper into the bed. Reaching out, he curled around the same body next to him before laying his head in Y/an’s chest. Curling around body he was lying on. He arches into the warm hand running through his hair. Slurring, he tries to call out Y/N’s name, but a deep voice hushes him. The last thing he hears is before deciding off is “go to sleep, little bird.”
There was little left to imagination when Y/N wore those biker shorts.
The ones that didn’t hide the way his thigh muscles tensed randomly nor how firm his ass was. The hem rode up every time he took a step and Y/N wasted no energy stopping mid-jog to tug them back down.
It especially devoted no mystery to how his thick shaft suffocated in the black polyester fabric.
And Bruce was certain Y/N was doing it on purpose.
He couldn’t figure out if he was trying to get back at him for anything. Bruce considered a trip to Cabo, five years back, when Bruce Wayne took the entire model group of Vogue’s July edition to his summer home there. Press got wind of the escapade and the whole world got a first — and only — decent view of his cock.
He wasn’t too upset. It actually kept the press off of his back for a few months since media companies, especially the porn industry, went skyrocketing with views and patrons. Everyone kept wondering what it actually looked like. Little to Bruce’s knowledge at the time, Y/N had actually masterbated to that photo more than several times. So if he were asked if he regretted that stunt, he’d say ‘not a chance.’
Bruce was truly wondering if that was what Y/N was aiming for.
Ever since he’d helped Y/N move into his new apartment, he’s more than adapted into his new surroundings. Joining his neighborhood watch club, getting a membership at the gym in his building and the supermarket down his street.
But out of all the things he wanted to start doing was jogging.
Typically, when Bruce had first started dating Y/N, — and when he had met him in general — Y/N had avoided doing any activities that would make it easier for people to possibly connect the idea that he was a hero. So if he joined a baking class, it seemed like the furthest thing from a hero was a related hobby. Honestly, Bruce wasn’t too keen on the prospect of that since he felt Y/N was cheating himself out of a life as a human. And Y/N, understandably so, had never taken his advice to go hiking or biking or jogging, for that matter, since he was afraid of accidentally forgetting to breathe or sip water.
So why the hell did he want to go out exercising now? And in those shorts?
Y/N only replied by stating, “Well, the park that my condo’s by has a nice jogging route and, in Forest Gump’s words, ‘I just felt like running’.”
(He dutifully smacked him upside the head for the ‘Gump’ reference.)
Bruce furrowed his eyebrows while he watched Y/N wipe himself down with rag. He barely sweat and Bruce wasn’t sure if he was bothered that that little jog made Y/N perspire. Correction: he was bothered since he knew that the only time he sweat did was during sex with him. Maybe he was completely bothered for another reason, he considered as he watched Y/N’s cock stiffen beneath the cloth.
“How many days has it been now?” Bruce inquired guilefully, as he rested his cheek against the back of the sofa.
Y/N turned, ass clenching and his lips pursing as he thought. Leave it to Y/N to succeed at being adorable and sexy all at once.
With a blank expression, Y/N asked, “What’re you talking about?”
Bruce waved his hand aimlessly. “Jogging, hon. How many days since you started?”
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Oh, well, I’d say about nine days or so.”
“Hm.” Bruce wrinkled his nose before focusing back on the sketch he was doing on his tablet. He was supposed to be sketching a prototype for the updated interspace communication panels on the Watchtower.
“Why? Something up?”
Y/N had quietly appeared next to him — he hated being too absorbed in something to miss what was happening in his surroundings.
“Umm...” Bruce scolded himself internally. He shouldn’t have taken a glance up at him. Raking his eyes over the expanse of his abdomen to the crevasse between his unrelenting chest. He bit his bottom lip as he saw the muscles on Y/N’s neck tightened as he craned his head to look over Bruce’s shoulder at his tablet.
Oh god Bruce, he’s looking at your tablet.
“What’s this babe?” Y/N held his hand firmly over Bruce’s so he could hold him steady before he tried to move the sketch away from his eyes. “Is that outside the window?”
“It’s...” Bruce stammered. Fuck, why’d he always make him nervous. “Just buildings and rooftops. That’s—“
“That’s me. Isn’t it?”
“Why would you assume that?”
Y/N’s mouth was a lot closer to his ear than it was before. “Well aside from the shorts, I’m certain you’ve never seen a bigger cock than that in your life, Bruce Wayne.”
Bruce felt his face heat up, turning away from Y/N’s proximity. “Shut up, asshole.”
Y/N laughed. The one that made his entire face light up. He put his hand to his stomach while his eyes crinkled around the edges.
“Bruce, it’s nothing to be upset about. I just — have you drawn me before?”
Bruce swallowed, locking the tablet before Y/N could see even more than he was supposed to.
“Y/N, what you’re inquiring of my past would suggest that I was drawing you right now. Which I was not.”
“Huh,” Y/N huffed as his lips quirked upright. Bruce decided looking at Y/N was what got him into this predicament in the first place, so he lay his back down onto the sofa. “Well — you could draw me.”
Bruce rose an eyebrow. “What?”
Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink at the edges while he rubbed the back of his neck. (Fuck, his biceps clenched perfectly. How that was possible, he wasn’t too sure. But it was official — he was insane for that man)
“I want you to draw me.”
Bruce scrunched his nose. “No.”
“I think it’d be fun.”
“No.”
“I’ll be your up close model.”
“What does that even —“
Y/N immediately moved in front of him, grabbed Bruce by the bottom of his thighs and tugged him closer to his body. Bruce bit his bottom lip as his eye caught sight of the erection wrinkling Y/N’s shorts. He focused his eyes back onto Y/N’s dilated ones.
“It means,” Y/N wet his bottom lip, “that I’ll be right on top of you while you draw out my every detail.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes skeptically. Y/N has definitely seen him draw before — he was there with him as he sketched the layout for the original Watchtower. There was no reason for Y/N to be this adamant about wanting art from him. He’s given him thousands of blueprints over the years.
Tentatively, he reached for his tablet and pencil, about to sit up before Y/N pushed him back down. He glared at him boredly.
“What gives?”
“Well I,” Y/N twisted his lips. He could be so beautiful when awkward. (Where were his thoughts going?) “I want you to draw me like you’re looking up at me.”
Bruce rose an eyebrow teasingly. “Yeah?”
Y/N shrugged, his muscles tightening involuntarily. “Sure.”
Bruce sighed. “Fine. But you’re not taking any peeks.”
Y/N smiled, making his eyes shimmer. “Promise.” He rested one hand on the back of the sofa leaving the other to grip the cushion at Bruce’s side.
Bruce stared at him a bit longer for good measure, to which Y/N didn’t flinch at all. Damn, he’s been around him too long if he wasn’t effected by his glare anymore.
So, he started his base template. Adding curves to his shoulders and strength to his jawline. He possibly lingered too long on Y/N’s lips and scolded Clark for moving them too much. He rounded out his chest muscles and took a breath as he added the spots Y/N had on his rib cage. He’s drawn this man before but it was definitely different when he was aware he was being drawn.
Y/N was still motionless and oddly, Bruce wasn’t shying away from the intense gaze Y/N laid upon him. It was because he was just posing for the optimum image portrayal. Not because he liked looking at Bruce sketching him.
Bruce bit his lip, sighing as he felt himself getting wetter. Y/N’s arms always threw him for a loop.
Y/N’s jaw clenched and Bruce decided to not go back and change it again.
While perfecting the wisps of sweat drying curls dropping onto Y/N’s forehead, Bruce took in a sharp breath as he felt the weight of Y/N’s balls resting on his entrance. He tried to stop his eyes from fluttering, but his body all too easily remembered what it was like to have Y/N’s swollen balls heavy and throbbing against him. The slick glide of Y/N being all the way inside of him, his balls slamming against his skin.
Bruce shook his head, not daring to look up at Y/N while he fantasized about him.
“How’s it coming along?”
Bruce reacted defensively, clutching the tablet against his chest. “Fine”, he said as suavely as possible. “Just fine.”
Y/N had a lopsided grin on his face. “I know you said no peeking...”
“And you promised you wouldn’t.”
“You’re right,” he sighed. “I did.” There he went again with licking those sun kissed lips. “I guess, I don’t know, I was just wondering how well your sketch looked if it was getting you so aroused.”
Oh, the bastard.
Bruce snorted, holding the tablet higher to block Y/N’s face. His pettiness, however, cost him, for while he didn’t have to look at his fiancé’s smug expression, he was granted an accessible view of Y/N’s quivering cock in those damned biker shorts.
Pitifully, he snickered, “I’m not aroused. Now let me focus.”
He couldn’t see Y/N’s face but he knew how annoyed it looked while he clicked his tongue.
“I mean, I get it Bruce,” Y/N hummed, “art can be satisfying.”
Reactively, Y/N pressed his weight down more so on to Bruce’s slick entrance, shoving his briefs and sweatpants further against his sensitive folds. Bruce sucked in a breath sharply as the warmth of his cock radiated through the fabric.
Painfully slow, Y/N started rocking his hips against him. And Bruce tried to focus on the angelic sway of Y/N’s body as his hardening cock shifted center and tried to break from its cloth confinement.
Bruce bit his lip as Y/N got him so wet. He briefs and sweats were drenched and so pushed into his entrance that with every grinding motion, a vein or the head of Y/N’s cock managed to rub against his folds and clit.
“I-oh god,” he huffed out. His hands were going numb and he barely had strength to keep his tablet upright. He hummed lazily as it fell onto his chest. That must’ve pleased Y/N for some reason, he picking up his speed.
“So pretty,” Y/N heaved out. Bruce wasn’t too sure if he was taking about the incomplete sketch or if it was himself but his orgasm was nearing fast. And Y/N hadn’t even been inside him.
“Y-Y/N,” he crooned out brokenly, gripping at Y/N’s forearms as he rocked.
Y/N groaned huskily, speeding up. Bruce gathered enough strength to lift his head and stare at Y/N’s cock again. Was he surprised to see that Y/N managed to rub hard enough to rip his sweats and his own shorts? No. Was it hot? Fuck yes.
Y/N must’ve realized his mishap at the same time, because he took advantage of the exposure to just push his cock through the rip he made in his shorts and shove it through the opening he made in Bruce’s sweats. He ripped Bruce’s briefs a bit as well to access his throbbing entrance, stuffing him justly. Bruce felt his legs go weak but could barely voice a sound before Y/N was pounding into him roughly.
“F-fuck,” he hissed while Y/N came down to suck and lick his neck. “Yes, Y-Y/N.”
Y/N groaned roughly, grabbing at Bruce’s hips as he thrusted in harder. Bruce tried awkwardly wrapping his legs around Y/N’s hips, but he felt so dead in them already, like a lifeless puppet.
“I-I,” Y/N stammered. “I’m going to come.”
“M-me too,” Bruce yelped before he felt his own cock release onto himself and his entrance spilling inside while Y/N kept pounding. Y/N made Bruce’s back arch, gripping at him so roughly while he came in him.
Y/N rode them out through their climaxes, kissing the sensitive spot on Bruce’s neck while it died down.
“Mmm,” Y/N hummed, “I like when you draw me.” His voice came out heavily hoarse and throaty.
“I-I didn’t even finish,” he gasped.
“Well, I know you will,” Y/N murmured, gently pressed his lips against Bruce’s. “I’ll be waiting.”He trailed feverish kisses down his cheek onto his collar bone before looking down between themselves where he was still engulfed in Bruce. “Good to know you like my jogging attire. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Annoyed out at how disoriented he felt, Bruce could only scoffed. “Maybe, you should go for something less revealing,” he teased but then considered how Y/N literally ripped it with his cock. “And something sturdier.”
Warm tingling toes teased out of the fringe beneath the soft, cotton blankets. Lazy lips collided slow and tender, tentative and building in the afterglow of a night tucked away from the rest of the world.
With a low resonating moan a strong, solid arm eased around M/n’s shoulder. The gentle pull began gradually guiding M/n over the smooth, warm, bronzed skin beneath him. With the fluid, forward movement M/n made, his lips parted further. Each soft nibble and caress set M/n’s skin ablaze, his mind reeling with the promise of a new day when the soft vibration of warmth poured out of his lover’s moan into his waiting mouth. A teasing flick of the tongue, a mischievous bite and a loving caress drawing him in was all M/n needed to carefully shift his weight over onto the long, lean lines of his lover’s body. Each strategically placed kiss was met by sparks of electricity at the skin to skin contact. Bristling sensation seemed to follow, spiraling out over M/n’s ever synapse drinking his lover in, claiming the morning for them alone.
The warmth from the world outside their tropical hideaway heightened their experience when his lover’s lips parted further, murmuring a soft pleasure-filled sigh. Their lips parted with arms still wrapped around one another, enveloping M/n in his lover’s touch. A tropical breeze swept into the room, casting a stark contrast to the heat beneath the blankets when M/n’s lover reached out to gently stroke his cheek.
“Mmm…morning big guy,” Eddies’s soft, lethargic tone carried with it the promise of something special now that the weight of the world no longer remained on their shoulders. Life was finally as it could be far from the end of the world now that they’d found their new beginning caught up in one another’s arms.
“That it is, sweetheart,” M/n agreed dipping down to kiss his tired companion again, this time leaving nothing to chance.
With Eddie’s hands wandering over the planes of M/n’s tensile spine, caressing his hard, muscular form with soft, loving ease, M/n found himself forgetting the tension that had long surrounded him. With Eddie’s loving touch, he set aside his concerns about the previous night’s apprehension, about the way that they almost got caught smoking weed by the authorities. If it hadn’t been for the man beneath him being crafty and tactful in dealing with the authorities, then perhaps he wouldn’t be basking in this sunny morning with the man he’d been in love with for an eternity. It was a match made in heaven or hell as some had joked, but whatever it was for them it worked. So many times, they’d come so close, but this time—they were finally free from all the monsters and drama that resided in their town.
No fucking way I just saw Joseph Quinn x reader on my feed and, like, physically recoiled
Please, this is really honest, if you support that kind of behaviour and you find nothing wrong with it, and/or if you read/write "real person x reader" fanfiction, with no due respect, do not interact with me.
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