Because there are only 26 letters in the alphabet, and I've combined some of the day's prompts, I'm going to post the first one on the fifth. Happy Pride!
Warning for anal sex, bottom male reader, felching, finger kink, overstimulation, rimming, rough sex, scent kink, size kink, and snowballing.
Part I
“We’re going to get food after this, right?” You ask after Leon pulls away from the kiss.
It takes a moment for him to answer, too busy dragging his mouth down your neck, “whatever you want,” Leon responds before he latches onto a particular spot.
“Will we,” you try to start, but your voice gives way to a gasp. Leon’s mouth is skilled, as you expected, his tongue soothing over the place his teeth just dug into, “Have time for that?” You question, your voice breathy.
Leon pulls away, his lips shiny with spit, “I’ll make the time,” he states, leaving no room for argument. His eyes are steely, cold, almost, not like a man who was just mouthing at your neck and rutting his hard cock into your ass.
He swoops back down, this time moving to the other side. You feel the vibration when he speaks next, rumbling from his chest into yours. You aren’t able to fully make out what he says, but it sounds a lot like now stop talking.
You do just that. Because you want to, of course. Not because you’re almost as afraid of Leon as you’re turned on by him.
“Good,” Leon says, much clearer than the last time he spoke. He moves back up to press a swift kiss of appreciation to your lips.
Unable to help yourself, you speak once more: “will my shirt be able to cover those?” You question.
Leon chuckles in response, his hands moving to cup your ass through your pants. He doesn’t respond in words, simply moves higher up to sink his teeth into the skin beneath your jawbone. Right beside it, your pulse hammers away, blood rushing under your skin. All of that blood feels as if it’s mainly rushing all towards your cock, making you feel dizzy.
You let out a whine as Leon sucks a bruise into the skin. If Leon were the guy everyone was intimidated by at work, maybe you could be the guy who starts wearing scarves to work. You could already hear the whispers of gossip.
You let out a moan as Leon brings your hips together, his wet tongue running over the mark he’s no doubt left. You jump when one of Leon’s hands moves quickly up your shirt, not even caring that he’s moments away from tearing the buttons off.
“This should be tucked in,” he says, watching the way his hand pushes the shirt up.
“It was,” you respond, feeling the heat of embarrassment wash over you. You couldn’t exactly remember if you had tucked it into your pants after buttoning it, but you knew from the heated make out session you were having on Leon’s couch that it was bound to come undone.
“It wasn’t,” Leon bites back, but you can’t actually tell if he’s truly angry or not. “You need to look good under me,” he says, going one by one and unbuttoning your shirt.
You feel the side of your mouth lift in a smirk, but quickly mask it, “I don’t look good?” You ask, feigning confusion.
Leon’s eyes lift from the display of skin to your face, “not what I mean,” he says with a soft laugh, “I need you to look good when you represent me,” he clarifies, getting the rest of your shirt undone.
You worked for the Division of Security Operations, so you aren’t sure if you technically represented Leon, but you were currently too turned on to question him. You were smart enough to get this job, so you were smart enough to understand what he meant.
Leon’s hands move to the sides of your ribs to pull your body up and forward, close enough to him that he’s able to run his tongue across one of your nipples. You gasp at the contact and go lax in Leon’s hold, feeling the man’s strong arms wrap around you and hold you still.
You squirm in his tight grip when Leon's teeth nip the bud, before his tongue is back to soothe it over. Your cock throbs in the confines of your pants, straining against the zipper to be let free.
You let out a groan when Leon moves to the other, learning right then and there how he isn’t able to let things go. While he plays with the other, his hand moves to tweak the one just in his mouth. His fingers are less forgiving, rough and calloused as they roll the bud between two warm fingers.
You bury a hand in Leon’s soft hair, yanking at the back of it when it all becomes too much. For a moment, Leon looks confused after you pull him off, his brows pulled down, but when you press your lips to his, he enthusiastically responds.
His tongue pushes its way past your lips, unlike the earlier kisses you had gotten when Leon had been gentler in his approach. He lets out a breathy noise when your tongues meet, his hands moving to the clasp of your pants.
Leon pulls back long enough to focus on your pants, but instead of fully getting them out of the way, he gets his hands in the back.
Leon’s hands feel burning hot on your skin, his fingers digging greedily into the flesh. You whimper at his nails on your skin, his fingers skirting your crack. They tease the skin for a short while, spreading one cheek just enough to get the dry pad of his finger onto your hole.
The touch is gone moments later so Leon can push you over onto the couch to get the rest of your clothes off. You’re clumsy in getting your pants off, nearly kicking Leon.
“Careful,” Leon says, biting his lip like he’s holding back laughter. “I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving you with a squeeze to your ankle and letting you sit with your embarrassment.
He walks off into an unknown room, giving you the opportunity once more to check out your surroundings. You had tried when Leon first got you in the door, but he was too busy kissing you breathless to give you the chance to look around.
Leon’s living room looks lived in, if not a little sterile. Shelves hold books and movies, ones that are too far away for you to see the titles. You choose to stay on the couch, even if a small part of you wants to be nosy. You aren’t sure how sexy it would be standing there with a boner, looking at his bookshelves when Leon came back.
“Ah ah ah,” Leon chides when he finally does come back into the room. It startles you, making you realize that your hand had been sliding down your stomach, and was nearly in your underwear. He places a bottle onto the ground beside your feet, adding an old man noise when he bends over and all.
Leon’s body was hard to ignore throughout the day, even with a shirt and jacket on. His shirt had looked like a second skin, clinging to his muscles. When Leon pulls it off, it goes easily before falling to the floor with a soft noise.
Even at his age, Leon’s body is still sculpted, his shirt leaving little to the imagination about how muscular he is. When you reach out to touch and come into contact with his warm skin, Leon sighs softly.
You take a moment to skim your fingers through the trail of dark hair that leads into his pants, looking up to watch the way Leon’s eyes slip shut. You turn your attention to Leon’s belt buckle, Leon’s arms hanging motionless at his sides as you get the rest of his clothes off.
You let out a squeak when one of Leon’s hands moves to the back of your head after getting his pants down. He pushes your head forward until your nose meets his clothed crotch. The force of it nearly hurts, but you’re soon overcome with the rich scent of Leon’s musk, and are too busy breathing in the heady aroma.
By the time Leon’s hand loosens, you’re drunk off the smell, your cock leaking in your underwear at the rich scent. You drag your nose across the length of his cock, and nearly make it to the fly where you know it’ll be heavier, but a hand on your forehead pushes you away.
You look up at Leon with half lidded eyes, and are met with a similar look. His hand trails down your face, running along your cheeks until they get to your mouth. Your lips part for Leon’s fingers, sucking on his appendages when they rest on your tongue.
A string of spit connects your mouth to his fingers when Leon pulls them free, the man above you breathing heavy. He pushes you down onto the couch before rolling you over with warm, spit slick fingers.
What waits for you at the end of the couch isn’t a pillow, but instead is Leon’s jacket, which you use as a pillow. Your arms rest under your head, your nose buried in the collar of the garment. What clings to the fabric isn’t musk, like Leon’s underwear, but instead is the spicy scent of his cologne, with hints of aftershave.
High off the smell, your mind doesn’t focus on the mess your cock makes when Leon gets your underwear down. Precum leaks from your cock, staining the couch below you, dripping from the head when Leon pushes your knees up.
Left on your knees and elbows, nerves fill your body not being able to see what’s behind you. You gasp when Leon grabs your asscheeks, kneading the flesh before spreading you open.
Your mouth falls open with a moan when you feel the flat of Leon’s tongue against your hole. He licks over the tight furl with broad strokes until you feel yourself relaxing with a whine. You moan louder into the leather of Leon’s jacket when he pushes his tongue inside, roaming around your walls in the same way it was in your mouth when he kissed you.
You push back into his tongue, and turn your head to suck in breaths that’re free of the scent on his jacket, needing the fresh before it can overwhelm you. You let out a whine at the feel of Leon’s rough stubble on your sensitive skin, the sensation a delicious twinge of roughness.
You try angling your head back to watch Leon work, but all you can make out is his dark hair and flashes of his broad back muscles flexing. It nearly startles you when he pulls away, and you’re fixed under his intense gaze, a light blush on his cheeks.
Your cock throbs between your legs when Leon breaks the stare and spits on your hole. It makes you jump, and your thighs quiver when you feel his spit drip down your taint.
Desperate for some sort of pleasure to your cock, you try to get a hand between your legs while Leon moves to grab the lube, but he’s quicker than you.
“What did I say?” He snaps, capturing your wrist. He gathers the other with his other hand and brings them together behind your back, your arms folded. He holds them together with one broad hand in a tight grip, letting out a tsk of disapproval.
You were tempted to fight back, after all, what he said was ah ah ah, which you weren’t sure was actually talking. You instead sent him your best glare, making Leon laugh.
Leon drags the spit back up your taint until he gets it back on your hole. He circles his finger around your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the feeling before he slowly pushes inside.
Spit only does so much to help before his finger starts to burn, making you try to move away. Leon makes easy work of stopping you before he leans forward to lick around his finger. You’re overcome by the similar sense of pleasure that his tongue brought, his finger pulling free slowly to then be fully replaced with his tongue.
Leon pulls away to nip at one of your asscheeks, “sorry,” he says, running his hand soothingly down one of your thighs, “wanted to get one last taste.”
The next time you feel his finger, it’s slick with lube. With the aid of his spit, Leon’s finger is able to make its way all the way inside. Gone is the previous pain, and it is now replaced with the anticipation of his finger finding your prostate.
It only takes the slow curl of Leon’s finger for you to let out a loud moan of pleasure, and once he finds it, he stays on it. Even when his finger leaves momentarily to return seconds later with another, the two are able to find the sensitive bundle of nerves right away.
You clench around his fingers as they stretch and open you wide for his cock, leaving you feeling full, even if it’s from just his fingers. The third finger comes after you see Leon’s underwear in your peripheral vision, joining the pile of your combined clothes.
The sight leaves you eager with anticipation, knowing what would soon be replacing the fingers fucking you open. You thrust back into the digits, stars lighting up your vision each and every time he brushes against your prostate.
Leon’s fingers pull free with a slick noise that has a bolt of heat rushing through your body. The slick head of his cock kisses your hole, teasing your opening by running it back and forth.
Leon is steady and unforgiving when he thrusts inside. Just like the way he fucked your throat, he goes deep until he’s buried to the hilt. His heavy weight settles on top of you, pressing you into the couch as his cock carves its place inside you.
Your right leg falls off the edge of the couch, giving Leon more room to work. His hand lets go of your wrists, but you don’t dare move. Instead, you groan when Leon’s hands settle around your lower back.
He sets up a viscous pace, his hands tight around your hips as he hammers you into the couch. Delirious from the pleasure, you almost want to question how he’s able to go so hard, but all that comes out when you do is moans of ecstasy.
Leon’s animalistic grunts fill your ears, washing over you with each thrust. His hands move to yank your body back against his. His sweaty chest rests against your back as he keeps up his pace. A strong arm settles around your waist, his fingers spread out to lay flat over your stomach.
“Can you feel it?” He questions, stopping to grind his hips on your ass. His fingers press into your stomach, on top of where his cock is buried, “when I’m done with you,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
You moan in Leon’s hold, clenching down as you throw your head back onto his shoulder. A hand goes to your jaw to turn your neck into a sloppy kiss. Teeth nip at your bottom lip near the end, and a tongue follows shortly after to lick over the hurt.
Leon’s hand goes down the plane of your body to wrap around your cock, giving a single stroke from root to tip. When he begins to move again, his hand moves at the same pace, slick fingers gliding along the length.
Your orgasm hits with such intensity that no sound falls from your lips. You gasp through silent screams, your hole quivering around Leon’s cock. Unaware that your eyes had closed, they open to watch the last few spurts of your spend land on Leon’s jacket. It feels like payback from earlier, and you managed to do it without even thinking.
Leon’s arms are there to hold you up when the aftershocks begin to hit. Or perhaps, it’s just to hold your body in place to fuck you to completion.
He finishes with a drawn-out sound, loud enough that it sounds as if he’s making up for not being able to in his office. You swear you can feel every single throb and motion of his cock as he comes deep inside you. It leaves you feeling full, like you knew you would, but in a way that makes you feel utterly and completely satisfied.
You feel Leon’s head fall onto the back of your neck, strands of sweaty hair tickling your skin. He pants against your skin, the puffs of his breath warm.
You give an experimental clench around his cock as it begins to soften. You can already feel the mess threatening to leak from around his cock.
Leon groans from the stimulation, his arms tightening around you. He nips softly at the back of your neck in retaliation.
“Made a,” you gasp when his cock slips free, “mess on your jacket, sorry.”
“Are you?” Leon quips, “you’re a mess back here, too,” he observes, slipping a finger back inside your hole.
“Not my fault,” you respond, letting Leon have his fun before moving away and flopping onto your back on top of the jacket. The teeth of the zipper are cool against your back, a small relief against the sweat cooling on your skin.
Leon follows to lift your legs over his shoulder. Your cock gives an interested twitch, even if you know you’re too tired. Your eyes flick down to Leon’s cock, dangling soft between his muscular thighs.
“Fuck,” you whisper, pushing your hand through Leon’s sweaty hair after he leans down to flick his tongue across your hole. You can’t imagine that the lube tastes very good, if it even has one at all, but Leon doesn’t seem to mind.
You tighten your hand in his hair and push his face deeper, Leon groaning at the pricks of pain to his scalp. Your head falls to the arm of the couch when Leon pushes his tongue inside, pleasure curling in your gut.
You feel Leon’s tongue press as far as it can, and you gasp around the wet intrusion. When he pulls away, he does so by licking all the way up, ending at the head of your soft cock. He lowers your legs back down to the couch slowly before making his way back down, this time to your mouth to get you into a slow kiss.
He pushes the mix of cum and lube from his tongue into your mouth, "swallow," he commands, one of his hands moving to softly cup your throat. “Good boy,” he says softly when he feels the movement of your throat under his fingers.
You let out a groan of air when Leon rests his heavy weight on top of you, your legs tangling together effortlessly. “We hafta go back to work,” you slur tiredly. You didn’t even want to think about how far it had gotten past your allotted hour-long lunch.
Leon lets out a chuckle, “you really want to go back to work like this?” He cranes his head to look at you from your collarbone, “want everyone to see what I did to you?” He questions, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
I want a paycheck, you thought to yourself, but instead let exhaustion take you. You’d worry about it when you woke up.
Warning for rough oral sex, boot kink, mean older Leon, and power imbalances.
“You doe-eyed recruits are always so eager to please,” Leon murmurs as the pad of his finger traces the corner of your mouth, stretched open wide around his cock. He lets out a chuckle, “never thought I’d get one on his knees on his very first day.”
You try to respond with some sort of agreement, but with your mouth stuffed full of Leon’s cock, all that comes out is a sound you hope conveys your response.
The vibration of the sound must do something for Leon, because it has him thrusting forward with a twitch, sending his cock deeper. Leon groans as your throat convulses around his cock, the head meeting the back of your throat.
Your first instinct is to get away, but a strong hand on your nape stops you. You struggle against the weight, tears leaking from your eyes as Leon cock remains buried deep.
“Relax,” Leon commands, shaking you like a dog gripped by its scruff, “breathe through your nose.”
When you try pushing off once more, this time using Leon’s shins, the man still won’t budge. You give up your struggle when black spots begin appearing on the edge of your vision, your heart hammering against your ribcage through the lack of oxygen.
You suck in a tense breath through your nose, trying to relax. You don’t think you’d ever be able to live it down passing out in your boss’s office on your first day. Of course, you’d do the rational thing and quit, but you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself knowing you’ve done something so humiliating.
“That’s it,” Leon says, his hand loosening around your neck, “I don’t need you asphyxiating yourself on my office floor,” he runs this thumb soothingly across your skin.
You didn’t exactly know how old Leon is, but it caught you by surprise at the way his cock remained hard on your tongue. Even as you felt your body relaxing, Leon stayed the same.
Leon’s cock throbs on your tongue before you taste the bitter saltiness of his precome hit your tastebuds. When your hands fall from his shins, he gives an experimental roll of his hips, fucking his cock deeper.
Your senses light once more when you gag once more around his cock, but pride overtakes you feeling it’s not as intense as before.
“Good boy,” Leon bit out. You could tell he was tense, but whether it’s from an approaching orgasm, or a want to stay still, you couldn’t tell.
The praise has your cock throbbing in your slacks, your hands itching at your sides to cup yourself and find some sense of relief. You don’t dare move, especially after Leon had barked at you earlier when you tried to wrap a hand around the base of his cock.
Seemingly as if Leon can read your mind, the toe of his boot softly makes contact with your bulge. It’s there only for a second, long enough to send a shockwave through your body. You’re left with the sour feeling of humiliation when you realize that Leon is waiting for you to do it again.
A breathy laugh hits your ears when you move, shifting until your cock rests on the toe of Leon’s boot, “you belong down here, don’t you?” He questions.
You moan softly at the friction to your hardening cock, preparing for the movement of Leon’s hips.
The movement is accompanied with a gasp, your eyes flicking up to Leon’s face. With his bottom lip held between his teeth, Leon tries to hold in his moans, his other hand not on your neck wrapped tightly around the side of his chair. The leather crinkles underneath his fingernails as Leon lets out another gasp, this one sharper than before.
You’re able to move under Leon’s loose grip on your nape, your head bobbing up and down. Spit coats your lips as you move up and down, moisture dripping closer and closer to the coarse strands of Leon’s pubic hair.
Your nose crinkles when it touches it, a surprisingly ticklish sensation. You can smell Leon’s musk stronger than ever: a mix of sweat, cologne, and something darker underneath it all.
Leon’s moans grow louder, his hand on your nape tightening once more. His hips stay in place, but his hand moves, pushing you down on his cock. He pushes past your gag reflex, hissing as your throat flutters around his thick cock.
The dark scent, you learn, is all Leon. You breathe it deep into your lungs as you fight your gags, swearing that you can taste it alongside the salty taste of Leon’s precome. It coats the back of your throat with a flavor you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.
Tears run down your face, your throat burning as Leon holds his cock deep. His cock throbs wildly on your tongue, making you think that he must be close.
You moan around Leon’s cock when the press of his boot becomes firmer. The toe of his boot presses up, right up into your balls and taint. Your moans grow louder as you push down into the touch, grinding into the warm leather.
You’re given no warning as Leon shoots down your throat, his hips quivering. You cough around Leon’s cock, trying your best to swallow all that he gives. The mess of cum of spit spills from your lips, dripping all the way down until you feel it hit the collar of your new uniform.
Leon holds your head in place until his cock begins to soften. It feels like forever, but at least as each second goes by, you’re able to breathe easier.
“Clean me off,” he commands, his voice gruff.
You work your tongue along his softening cock, Leon grunting when you softly suck the head. The sound goes straight to your cock, still being pressed by Leon’s boot.
“That’s enough,” Leon decides, his cock falling from your mouth with a pop. He pushes you away with a hand on your forehead, your eyes flicking up to meet his.
The clang of his belt buckle is loud in your ears as he holds your eye. You bite your tongue to keep from doing something stupid as your eyes flick down to see Leon’s cock disappear from view.
Once he’s zipped up, you’re left with the sound of the clock on Leon’s wall ticking. Leon lets out a heavy breath from his nose before you feel his boot shift against your cock.
You moan softly as the toe of his boot drags along the length of your cock, Leon moving to open one of his desk drawers. He tosses a handkerchief in your direction, the same color blue as the logo to the organization you just started working for.
“Clean yourself up.”
Your head shoots up to look at Leon, the cloth resting in your lap, “what?”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Leon questions, pulling his boot away, “don’t look at me like that,” he says with a smirk.
You wipe away the spit and sweat from your face, trying not to grimace when your stained color touches your neck.
Leon grabs your collar to pull you closer, nearly choking you, “look at the mess you made,” he observes softly. He runs his thumb across the stain, “you work for me now,” he says possessively, “I can’t have you looking a mess can I?”
“No sir,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way Leon’s tone makes your cock twitch.
“Attaboy,” Leon replies, his hand moving to your shoulder to pull you up, “go get a new uniform on.” He takes the dirty cloth from you and tosses it carelessly on his desk.
You’re nearly to Leon’s door when you hear the man give a groan behind you. A second later, he’s got you pushed onto the door, his broad chest resting on yours. You gasp when your back meets the door, looking up at Leon with wide eyes.
“Make sure to not draw any attention with this,” Leon says, his hand cupping your cock, “Chris would eat you alive if he saw you like this,” he whispers.
Your brows furrow in confusion, not knowing who he was talking about. You try and open your mouth to question him, but Leon swoops forward to press his mouth to yours.
“Go,” he commands, practically shoving you out the door after he unlocks it.
You should head straight to Human Resources, but instead, you find the nearest bathroom to splash cold water against your face.
You jump when you hear one of the stall doors open, “hey!” The man says as he steps up to the sink next to yours, “how’s your first day going?” He asks as he lathers up his hands.
“Fine,” you respond, suddenly feeling hot under the collar at the prospect of what you had just done being found out. In the mirror, your eyes move from the stain on your collar to the man’s eyes. You couldn’t even remember who this guy was, let alone when you had met earlier that day.
The man chuckles, “that doesn’t sound very convincing,” he replies, “Leon must be putting you through it.”
“No,” you clear your throat, suddenly tasting the salty remnants of his spend, “he’s,” you swallow tightly, “great,” you finish, flinching when your voice cracks on the word.
“That guy scares me,” the man responds, sending you a smile, “he never takes any newbies,” he grabs a paper towel to wipe his hands, “you must’ve really caught his eye,” he says as he tosses the wet towel into the trash.
Your mind races as the man leaves the bathroom, leaving you alone. You thought you had just met Leon today, but you’re able to remember flashes of seeing the man the day of your interview. From what you could remember, all you did was walk past the man without even a glance.
You lean down to the faucet to swish cold water around your mouth. It does little to help, but maybe something stronger like a cup of coffee would be better. You give one last glance to yourself in the mirror, trying to smooth out your disheveled appearance.
Even if the coffee doesn’t help, you’d be able to blame it for the stain on your collar if someone catches you on your way to get a new shirt.
By the time you’re back to Leon’s office, he’s back in his chair. You take a seat across from him, his eyes watching you as he speaks on the floor.
When his icy blue eyes meet yours, you look down, keeping your gaze glued to the floor. Minutes later, Leon’s boots fill your vision before a hand is on your chin, turning your view up to look at him.
“Almost lunch time,” Leon says, his eyes flicking over to the clock on the wall, “you hungry?”
You nod tensely, waiting with bated breath to see what Leon would say, or do, next.
“C’mon,” he says, grabbing his jacket, “there’s somewhere I want to take you.”
Outside of Leon’s office, you respond, “to eat?”
Leon lets out a huff of laughter, one of his hands on the small of your back as he walks you to the entrance of the building.
Warning for bottom male reader, established relationship, sleepy sex, reader is around/the same age as Requiem Leon, size kink, light choking (this is literally saved as bicep chokehold on my computer).
You don’t think there will ever be a day that Leon’s job doesn’t get him hot under the collar. He isn’t 21 anymore, so those days are further apart, but they still do happen.
You’re somewhat grateful when he comes home and you realize. Too many times you’ve nearly been caught in a cramped closet trying to get off after a mission. You can hear it in Leon’s footfalls as he walks to the bedroom, the slow thump against the hardwood waking your body up.
“Did I wake you?” Leon asks in the doorway.
You roll over and lazily pull yourself up to sit against the headboard, “I wasn’t sleeping,” you answer.
Leon lets out a chuckle and leans against the door frame, “you aren’t?” He questions. He crosses his arms against his chest, a smirk on his face as he watches you swipe a hand across your tired eyes.
“I was resting my eyes,” you reply, relaxing into the pillows. If Leon is just going to stand there, then you are going to relax and enjoy the view.
“Ahh, okay,” he says slowly. Leon slinks up to the bed, the sound of his boots sending warmth through your stomach as he gets closer. “You look comfortable,” he observes as he leans down with a groan to unlace his boots.
You can’t help but laugh, “need some help?” You asked, pushing yourself down the bed. It wasn’t really like you could talk, you’ve aged just as Leon has. You groan in the same fashion sometimes when you brush your teeth. You still couldn’t understand how you were able to keep up with Leon out in the field.
“I wouldn’t want to disturb you,” Leon answers, his blue eyes dark as they flick up to look at you.
“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” you murmur, spreading your legs to make room. Your cock throbs in your pants as Leon pulls his boots off and walks to toss them in the corner of your bedroom. If it were any other night, the harsh sound would make you flinch, but now it just fills you with the thrill of excitement.
You’ve got a hand in your shirt when Leon turns back around, “ah ah ah,” Leon scolds, “that’s my job,” he says, his voice low. Neither of you registers the sound of Leon’s knees cracking when he gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, too focused on Leon’s hands as they make their way up your shirt.
“By all means,” you say, moving your hands to Leon’s shoulders.
But instead of getting your shirt off, Leon’s warm hands settle underneath your shirt, underneath your ribs so he can pull you into a kiss. If taking off your shirt was his job, Leon’s a shit worker at it.
Before Leon can deepen the kiss, you get a hand under the back of his shirt, pulling up even as you feel the wet touch of Leon’s tongue on your bottom lip.
“You aren’t too tired?” Leon questions with a playful bite to his words.
You’re tempted to throw his shirt into his face, but you instead toss it past his shoulder. “I’m not,” you answer, “but if you are,” you say, getting back into the position Leon had found you in, “we could just sleep.”
“Sounds good to me,” Leon says as his muscular weight settles on top of your back.
You hide your smile in the bed as you feel the warm press of his lips on the back of your neck. You both knew you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, at least not right now.
Pressing back against his weight, your ass comes into contact with the bulge in Leon’s pants. You feel teeth against the side of your neck when you push back again. You gasp at the feel of Leon’s warm tongue against your pulse point, your cock throbbing in your pants.
Leon’s weight leaves you momentarily, a chill settling over your skin as you hear the sound of your bedside table opening.
“No underwear?” He asks after pulling your pants down past your ass.
“It’s laundry day,” you reply, arching your back into Leon’s lube-slick finger.
“Didn’t do the laundry, and then I find you in bed when I get home,” Leon says, his finger easily finding your prostate. After all these years, you’d be more surprised if he wasn’t able to immediately find it. “What did you do all day?” He questions as a second finger joins the first.
“Waited for you to get back,” you answer with a moan as your cock grows harder between your legs.
“You poor thing,” Leon coos before he leans down to press his lips to your cheek. His soft words don’t match the movement of his fingers as they hammer home, relentlessly stroking your prostate.
Unsure whether to push back into his fingers or to drive your hips into the bed, you remain still, letting the movement of Leon’s fingers do it for you. You move as his fingers do, your mouth falling open with a gasp as he prepares you for his cock.
Two fingers become three, the twinge of it deliciously painful. Leon’s fingers fuck in and out, stretching you open for his cock. By the time he pulls them all the way out, there’s a wet patch on the bedspread underneath the head of your cock.
Your body thrums with unused energy, but Leon gives you nowhere to move. He simply replaces his fingers with his cock, fucking into you in one slick movement. It punches the breath from your lungs, your body clenching down as you begin to get used to his cock.
You don’t know how many times you’ve taken Leon’s cock, but it feels like each and every time, it manages to take your breath away.
What doesn’t help is Leon leaning down, one of his arms moving around your neck to hold your body to his. You’re connected from top to toe with Leon’s knees bracketing your hips, his long legs tangled with yours.
“Breathe,” he whispers into your ear, his hips moving in a slow circle. Inside, his cock jostles your prostate enough to draw your attention back to the moment. “Good,” Leon says when you pull a deep breath in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You let it out to take another one in, squeezing around Leon’s cock as you become accustomed to it. Above you, Leon gasps softly, his hips giving an involuntary twitch. You crane your neck to look at Leon, quickly knowing you won’t be able to stay in the position for too long without having an ache later.
“Sensitive?” You question as you tighten around Leon’s cock.
Leon’s arm tightens momentarily around your neck to get your head at the right angle to pull you into a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, and the kind that tells you exactly what you’re about to get. Like he’s apologizing for how he’s about to fuck you.
He begins when his tongue is in your mouth, the kiss long turned wet and dirty. It makes it hard to focus on trying to respond to the kiss as Leon pistons his cock in and out, but Leon still doesn’t pull away.
He moans into your mouth as he thrusts, his tongue working against yours. Drool falls from the corner of your lips as Leon hammers away at your prostate, the spit running down your chin until it hits Leon’s arm.
Leon’s bicep flexes in time with his thrusts, squeezing your throat not enough to cut off your air supply, but enough that the thrill of it potentially happening is there. You bring both hands up to dig your fingernails into the muscle of Leon’s arm, letting the man do all the work of holding you up.
Leon groans through the pain, his hips speeding up. The bed creaks under the weight of your combined movement, and the headboard knocks against the wall with the motion of Leon’s thrusts, the sound only seeming to spur Leon on.
One of your hands falls beneath your body between your legs, “I’ve got it,” Leon says, his voice sultry. His slick fingers wrap around your hard cock, dragging the precum that’s gathered at the head down. His hand moves in time with his hips, your orgasm quickly approaching.
It only takes a handful of jerks with his hand for your orgasm to come crashing into you. You come with a yell, your bottom lip dragging against Leon’s as you grip the skin, riding out your high.
Your hole flutters around Leon’s cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts already short and quick, letting you know that he’s close. His hand moves from around your cock to your stomach, his arm wrapping around the sweaty skin to pull you impossibly closer.
He comes with a groan, his head hidden away safely in the crook of your neck. He holds you close as his cock throbs inside of you, like he doesn’t want to waste a single drop.
Warm puffs of Leon’s breath hit your neck as he pants, heating your cooling skin. His arm begins to loosen as his breathing slows, his body following yours down to the bed.
You do a double take as you move when you catch sight of Leon’s arm and the crescent moons your nails left in his skin, “shit, Leon. I’m so-”
Leon rolls onto his side and moves forward into a swift kiss, much faster than you expected for someone his age. His eyes flick down when he pulls away, “it’s fine,” he says, looking at the marks, “I’ve had worse,” he sends you a soft smile that crinkles his eyes.
“Yeah, but not from me,” you reply, running your finger over the marks.
“I most definitely have,” he replies with a smirk, propped up on one bent arm.
You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he’s thinking about.
“You used to kick my ass when we would spar,” Leon says, flopping onto his back, one of his arms moving to pull you against his chest.
“That’s different,” you reply, running a hand slowly down his chest.
Leon hums, “when was the last time we sparred?” He questions, running a hand down your side, his fingers skimming your ass.
You went silent, genuinely trying to remember, “I don’t know.”
“Think it’s time for a rematch?” Leon questions sleepily.
You look up, smiling softly when you see his eyes are closed. If you were years younger, you’d already be rolling on top of Leon for round two, but now, you were content with where you were.
Started writing this in 2023 after watching the live action One Piece, and I just finished it three years later. I still haven't watched season two oops.
Warning for smut, bottom male reader, and outdoor play.
“Fuck you,” the man points a finger angrily at Sanji, and then, to your surprise, it gets turned your way, “and fuck you.” He ends before storming out of the kitchen.
For a second, it’s quiet. Everyone looks around the room before things go back to normal, and they get back to their duties. Even you quickly got back to work, not wanting to get yelled at again. For whatever reason.
“What did I do?” You ask one of the servers near the table where you place the serving platter. One of them offers a shrug, which does nothing to answer your question.
Sanji is laughing when you walk up to him. There’s something kind of scary about the control he holds over the knife in his hand while he’s laughing. It’s also kind of hot– like almost everything you saw Sanji do.
“What’d you do to that poor man?” Sanji asks around a laugh.
“I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even know his name!” You say in frustration, also quite loudly, with the way multiple people turn and look your way. Your face goes hot with embarrassment after looking around the room. “I didn’t do anything,” you repeat, this time much quieter.
“Before you came in he was saying something about how he came here to cook but-”
“I thought you were teaching him?”
“I was. Now, as I was saying,” he looks up and sends you a smirk. He continues after you light out a sheepish sorry. “But he said I was too busy with you.”
“That’s not your fault,” you pause when the rest of his words catch up with you, “wait, what do you mean you're too busy with me?”
“I don’t know,” Sanji responds quietly, a light blush lighting up his face. He walks away after sending you a small smile, not even noticing how quickly he finished up plating the meal he was putting onto one of the serving trays.
Cooking is another thing Sanji was good at. He was good, but he was also fast. Much faster than you were, even after Sanji had started spending moments of downtime training you.
“He was angry that you were spending too much time with me instead of teaching him,” you say in realization after Sanji comes back. Your eyes fall downcast onto the table.
“Hey,” Sanji says, coming in close when he notices the sad look on your face, “you just need a little extra care, that’s all.”
You let out a soft laugh, “that’s one way to put it. He could have been a really good cook, and I just kind of ruined it.”
Sanji shakes his head, his brows furrowed, “you’re one of the best servers here, and when you finish your training,” Sanji hands you his knife, “you’ll be double the trouble.”
“And making even more new-hires quit,” you respond, looking down at the knife.
“No,” Sanji says with a laugh, "Let's practice your chopping skills,” he says after grabbing another knife.
It was just a few vegetables, ones that you chop yourself, but Sanji could do it much faster by himself. He steps up to your side after grabbing another knife for himself. You chop what is there silently, noting to give yourself a pat on the back later for not letting yourself get distracted when Sanji’s shoulder would brush against yours.
-
“What is it, lad?” Zeff asks when you knock on the already open door to his office.
“Hey, I’m just uh,” you pause, trying to find the right words, “apologize for getting that guy fired.”
“Apologize? You did me a favor!”
“How?” You ask in confusion and sit yourself down in front of the wooden chair in front of his desk.
“If he’s going to get frustrated that easily, he shouldn’t be working here,” he picks up the money he was counting and continues on, “you can Sanji.”
You want to question him more, but with the way he quickly focused on the money in his hands, you decided to just leave it. Besides, the yell from the kitchen coming through the doorway sounds a lot like your name.
“Order up,” Sanji says, ducking in close to whisper the words when you’re close enough to the platter. It’s almost a shame, you think, you have to leave the kitchen with such amazing looking meals that Sanji makes, only to return later with an empty plate, just to do it all over again.
The rest of the night runs much more smoothly compared to what happened earlier. It’ll probably become another horror story that you can tell the new hires. Since it’s one of your new skills, you should just give in now and play the role.
“All done?” Sanji asks after you come back into the kitchen empty handed.
“Yeah. It’s just two tables that I’m waiting on to leave,” you step up to Sanji and look over his shoulder, “what about you?”
“Just a little bit of prep work,” he responds, sending you a smile. “You wanna help?”
You glance around the kitchen, noticing that you two are the only ones left for the night. This also means you’re left with the small pile of dishes you see soaking in the water. Great.
“If you help me with the dishes in there,” you point a finger towards the door to the dining room, “and the rest are still at the tables.”
Sanji lets out a laugh, “if you give me a portion of the tips you’ve made tonight,” he says sneakily.
You let out a light laugh of your own, “a portion?” You go and grab a knife (another thing you’ll have to clean) and join him.
“Yeah,” Sanji says, drawing out the word, “I think 30/70 should work.”
“70?” You ask in astonishment. He’s chopping something you’ve never seen before. Your lack of understanding gives you the perfect opportunity to watch his skilled hands work. If you end up spending a second longer than needed watching him work, it’s because you’re trying to make sure you fully understand, and definitely not for another reason.
“I’m kidding. You don’t owe me any of your tips,” Sanji says, knocking his shoulder into yours and sending you another smile.
“That’s too bad, you probably could’ve convinced me,” you respond and go to grab one of the vegetables from the small pile he has.
“Oh yeah? You’re that easily persuaded?” Sanji asks, his brows raised.
“Really, it just depends on who it is,” you say, trying your best to copy the movements of his hands.
Sanji chuckles, “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says softly.
It goes quiet after that. You can hear light noises from the dining room, but what you mainly hear is the noise of the knives against the cutting board. That is, until you start to only hear your own. Too lost in the repeated motion, you fail to notice Sanji watching you.
“Almost,” he says into your ear before the heat of his body is at your back, “your slices should be thinner,” he places his head onto your shoulder before his hands are on top of yours, “use your knuckles to guide the knife.”
His body is warm right on top of yours, and you have trouble holding yourself back from leaning back into the warmth. His hands guide yours, easily correcting your mistake, “sorry,” you murmur.
“It’s okay,” Sanji responds softly, his breath puffing on your neck. He pats a hand on your side when he pulls away.
You miss the heat of his body, but he soon returns next to you to put all of the pieces into a container. As much as you hate to watch him go again to put it into the fridge, it gives you ample opportunity to watch his ass as he walks away.
You look away when Sanji comes back and wipes an imaginary piece of dust away on the table, “gotta go!” Sanji gives you a look of confusion, and you quickly clarify, “go check the tables, I mean.”
You let out a breath once you’re out of the kitchen. The two tables that were still in the dining room are gone when you look around the area. It makes you happy to see that both tables have left you tips, but that also means you’ll have to return to the kitchen and pretend like you weren’t just staring at Sanji’s ass.
You pocket the tips and head back to the kitchen with what you need to clean. Sanji cranes his neck to send you a smile when you’re back, one that you easily return.
“I see you brought me a present,” Sanji says with fake excitement. He grabs the dishes and puts them into the soapy, warm water with the others, “dry those for me?” He nods in the direction of the clean, but wet dishes beside the sink.
Grabbing a cloth and drying means you get to be beside Sanji again. It doesn’t allow you to stare at his ass, but you do get the occasional touch of his arm brushing yours. Once you’re caught up with what had already been out, you get to grab the ones directly from Sanji’s fingers.
“Sorry,” Sanji murmurs after his wet fingers brush yours.
“No worries,” you respond, sending him a smile. When his fingers brush yours again, Sanji doesn’t apologize, and you smile softly to yourself as you dry the plate in your hand.
“Almost done,” Sanji says down into the water, a sad edge to his voice.
The tone of his voice lights a fire underneath your feet to spur you closer, you just hope you aren’t reading it wrong. “Sanji,” you say softly and lean forward when the man turns his head. You almost want to pull away when his lips don’t respond to yours, but when one of his wet hands makes its way to the back of your neck, you let out a soft noise as your lips continue moving against his.
You pull back slowly from the kiss, smiling against each other’s mouth, “let’s finish these dishes,” Sanji whispers, his thumb moving in a slow circle against the back of your neck.
You press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away, “are you going to hand me more to dry?” You ask with a smirk when Sanji just stands there.
“Sorry,” Sanji responds quickly, a faint blush lighting up his cheeks, “I got a little distracted.”
You eagerly finish up the rest of the dishes and quickly put them in their proper places. You return to Sanji as he drains the water and wipes down the counter before drying his hands. A second after he’s thrown the cloth onto the counter, your arms are wrapped around his neck to pull him into another kiss.
Sanji laughs softly into the kiss, his now dry hands going to your waist to get you even closer. Too wrapped up in one another, you both fail to hear the footsteps of another person entering the room.
“That’s why he quit,” Zeff says.
You jump away from each other, trying your best to act like Sanji’s tongue wasn’t just about to be in your mouth.
Sanji clears his throat before responding, “what?”
“You’re all over each other,” Zeff responds with a smirk. “Surely, he didn’t need help cutting that pepper, but there you were,” he waves an arm in Sanji’s direction, “practically on top of him.”
“I’m still learning,” you say defensively.
Zeff chuckles and holds his hands up in surrender, “I taught him too, but it wasn’t like that.” The man laughs again, this time much louder at the face you both make.
“Zeff! Gross!” Sanji yells.
Zeff laughs with a hand on his belly, “get out of here you two, and no fucking in my kitchen!” He yells as you both practically sprint from the kitchen in your haste to run from his words.
“Wait! Where are we going to go?” You asked Sanji.
He let out a laugh and continued walking until he reached the doors that led to the outdoor tables and bar. “Coming?” He asks after turning to look your way.
Once through the door, you sat on one of the leather couches and watched as Sanji placed a chair under each of the doorknobs. “Scared we’ll get caught?” You asked with a smirk.
“I’d rather not have an audience,” he stepped up to you on his long legs, “after all,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “I want you all to myself,” he whispered into your ear.
His words make you shiver, or really, maybe it’s due to the cool night air. Though as you watch Sanji undress, you doubt the temperature will be a problem after all.
“I do plan on fucking you in the kitchen, you know that, right?” Sanji says as he gets his pants down.
“Can you fuck me out here first?” You ask impatiently.
“Almost,” he chides, “but there are too many clothes in the way,” he observes, looking you over with heated eyes as he fondles his cock through his underwear.
You push yourself off the couch, right into Sanji’s space as you start taking your clothes off. Thinking he was going to kiss you as you stripped down, you’re left confused when Sanji pulls his button-down back on.
“Be right back,” he says, pressing a swift kiss to your lips before he’s jogging through the balcony doorway.
Minutes after you’re fully naked, Sanji’s back through the door with a huff, “I almost started getting mad at you,” you said.
“Will you ever forgive me?” Sanji asks with a pout. He presses what he brought to your chest, your eyes flicking down.
“I think I can,” you whisper as you read the label on the bottle. You press a soft kiss to Sanji’s lips, the swoosh of fabric hitting your ears as he pulls his shirt back off.
You’re quick to open the bottle of lube to slick your fingers up. Your back meets leather, as does the bottom of your left foot, and seconds later, you’re pressing a wet digit into your hole.
All of your focus was on finding your prostate, even if one of the hottest men you’ve seen in your life was standing in front of you. Said man you could hear moan softly in front of you, the sound going straight to your cock.
As much as you wanted to put on a show for Sanji, you had trouble with the angle reaching your prostate. Evidently, the look of frustration must have shown on your face when Sanji opened his mouth to ask: “need some help?”
Your eyes opened to his tender gaze, a blush dusting his cheeks as a soft smile lay on his lips. He was still clothed in his underwear, seemingly set on teasing himself.
“A little,” you groaned, trying again to find your prostate. Your fingers were in deep, but still weren’t enough.
Sanji kneeled down in the space your lifted leg left for him, one of his hands trailing up and down the skin soothingly. He used what was left from your fingers when you pulled them free to make his way inside.
Two out, two in Sanji goes, his fingers going deeper than yours could. Your head falls back onto leather as Sanji’s fingers go to the hilt, your hole clenching down on the intrusion. With such skilled hands and fingers, it’s no surprise to you when he’s able to find your prostate easily, even as you clench down.
“There we are,” Sanji murmurs, his fingers rubbing against it.
The sensation sends shockwaves through your body, before ending in your cock. You look down to watch where Sanji’s fingers disappear inside your body before flicking up to watch Sanji. Your eyes see Sanji’s watch a bead of precum dribble down the head of your cock, warmth washing over you.
You whimper in protest when Sanji pulls his fingers free, but he makes up for it by leaning down to lick up the precum as it dribbles down your cock. “Wait,” you gasp when Sanji’s fingers make their way back inside, his tongue still on you.
Sanji’s eyes move to your face, the movement of his fingers coming to a halt. But it’s like he’s unable to help himself as he drags his tongue up your cock before stopping at the head to press the tip inside.
“Sanji!” You moan, your hips jerking up, “I don’t want-”
“Don’t think I can get another one out of you?” He challenges.
“I didn’t-” your words end in a moan when Sanji fucks his fingers back inside, “say that,” you grit out, trying your hardest not to come when he takes the head of your cock into his mouth.
Quicker than you hoped, you’re coming onto Sanji’s tongue as a third finger joins the other two to rub against your prostate. Sanji swallows it down until you're growing soft against his tongue, and even then, he keeps going.
The overstimulation has you whining, one of your hands in Sanji’s blond hair to pull him away. Sanji groans as you tug the strands between your fingers, the vibrations going straight through your cock.
“Sorry,” you say when Sanji finally pulls free. You knew how much Sanji cared about his hair, but perhaps you could convince him otherwise later. The sex-mussed style he currently had was really doing something for you.
Sanji swallows the gasp his fingers pull from you when he takes them out, his tongue making its way past your lips. He pulls away momentarily to focus on getting his underwear down, and you can’t help but lean up to kiss the pout of concentration from his mouth.
Sanji smiles against your lips as he gets them out of the way, tossing them behind him. You just hoped they didn’t fly off the edge of the ship to potentially land on someone underneath.
The first press of Sanji’s cock on your hole comes after he pulls your legs towards his waist, your ankles hooking around his hips. It barely leaves any room for Sanji to move back, the only way he can go is forward, but luckily, he’s quick to add lube to his cock before he can get too far.
You both gasp when the wet head of his cock makes its way inside. It goes easier than you expected as Sanji sinks to the hilt, probably due to your orgasm earlier.
Stretched open and full, you feel your cock starting to thicken once more. It glides against the plane of Sanji’s abs when he begins to move.
What started as a roll of his hips, soon turns quick and frantic. If the same person in that hypothetical you thought of earlier, getting hit with Sanji’s underwear when he tossed them wasn’t able to tell what he was getting up to, the sound of it sure made it known.
Sanji’s skin slapped against yours as your sweaty bodies came together over and over again as you chased orgasm. It nearly made you feel selfish, knowing that for you, it’d be your second. But Sanji didn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite, in fact.
He even aided you with a hand around your cock. His hand moved at the same pace as his hips, his fingers slick from a combination of sweat and lube.
You barely had time to warn him before your second orgasm was coursing through you, your back arching off the leather under your body. You pushed closer to Sanji, making it easier for his hands to move from your cock to your hips, moving your body like a ragdoll as he fucked you through your high.
With his hands tightening nearly to the point of pain, Sanji came with a loud moan, his hips coming to a rest.
You felt your cock get a valiant twitch as you felt Sanji’s throb inside you, his cock buried to the hilt as he came deep inside you. You clenched down on his cock, milking it dry for all Sanji was worth.
Sanji’s moans turned higher in pitch as you felt his cock starting to soften. It nearly felt like payback from earlier, you just weren’t sure if you were going to follow suit and make Sanji have another orgasm like he did with you.
He collapsed on top of you in a sweaty mess of limbs, your arms moving to wrap around him. He tucked his face into the column of your neck, his warm breath puffing against your skin.
“Think I can get another one out of you?” You questioned, breaking the silence. You made no effort to change your current position, even as you felt the press of Sanji’s smile into your neck. Instead, you both relaxed into each other, your hands tangled into the hair on the back of Sanji’s head.
“In Zeff’s kitchen this time?” Sanji asked, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he lay against your chest.
I'm back, I think. I have two (maybe three if I decide to finish it) other fics I'll be posting tonight or tomorrow.
Warning for smut, bottom male reader, choking, inexperienced Dex, riding, and non-graphic descriptions of injuries. Also, spoilers for last night's episode of Daredevil.
“What do you think Matt or Karen-”
You cut him off with a tight hand around his throat, his dark, lust-filled eyes looking down at your fingers, then up at you. Under your fingers, you felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed tightly, and if you squeezed hard enough, you wondered if you could feel the blood rushing through his veins.
He pulled in a wheezy breath when you pulled away, your hand shaking in anger.
“You gonna let me come?” Dex questioned, coughing softly, “that’s sweet of you,” he said with a smile, “Karen only held a gun to my head.”
“Stop,” you hissed, “saying their names,” you growled, grinding down on Dex’s cock deep inside you. You both groaned at the action, Dex’s ending with a breathy laugh.
“I’m a stain,” he said, his hands resting on your hips as he let you do all the work, “on all of your lives,” his hands tightened momentarily, “especially yours. It'd only be right to get rid of me.”
“Stay still,” you commanded when Dex started to sit up, “stay-” you repeated, this time lighter as the movement made his cock feel as if it was even deeper wedged within your hole. “What’re you?” You started to ask when Dex leaned closer.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, his lips nearly touching yours, but still not quite there yet. This close, you could see the rim of color of his iris that wasn’t swallowed by his pupils. “Please,” he begged.
Your eyes darted from Dex’s eyes, down to his lips, and back. Dex’s eyes remained locked with yours the entire time. From what you’ve seen and heard, Dex was normally a patient man, ready to stalk and observe his next target. But now, he was acting the complete opposite.
You heard Dex’s throat clicked as he swallowed, “if you won’t kill me,” he said as he leaned closer, the tip of his nose touching yours, “give me this,” he closed his eyes, “please.”
You let out a sigh before you closed the distance in what was just a muted press of lips. It was nearly awkward until Dex whined and his lips started moving against yours. The kiss was uncoordinated, making you wonder how long it had been since Dex had kissed anyone, but you could admit that he made up for it with eagerness.
“Easy,” you murmured after interrupting the kiss. You moved your hands to cup Dex’s cheeks like you hadn’t tried to choke the man moments ago, and let out another sigh, “slow down,” you said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”
That made Dex whine louder, his arms moving to wrap around you. He moaned into the next kiss you pulled him in, his tongue mapping the unexplored area of your mouth.
You pulled away at the touch of Dex’s hands on your ass cheeks, his bruised fingers digging into your skin. You rocked into his touch, moaning when his cock brushed your prostate. You were careful with Dex’s injured body as you rolled your hips on his cock, paying extra attention to watch for any sign of discomfort. You already saw what Matt did to Karen’s hand when she held a gun to Dex, you didn’t want to have to explain to him and figure out what he would do if you told him Dex pulled his stitches fucking you.
The only look on Dex’s face, however, was one you didn’t want to think about. It was a look you felt shouldn’t be sent your way, especially after choking him. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him, a look of adoration that nearly made you feel sick.
“Fuck,” you whispered. You knew you needed this to be over. To forget about it, or to pretend like you would, but instead circle back to it, you were still figuring out.
“Yeah?” Dex asked, thrusting his hips up in a jerked movement.
No. You leaned down to bite into his shoulder to keep yourself from saying it again. You didn’t mean it like that.
Dex moaned, his head lolling back, and you couldn’t help yourself as you licked the path along his collarbone, and then up his neck. You buried a hand in his hair to pull him into a kiss and ignore the way his moans made you cock throb. You could finish this all on your own.
You reached a hand between your bodies to wrap your fingers around your cock, your other hand finding purchase on Dex’s muscular chest and pushing.
Dex landed with a breathy noise, his hands moving back to your hips. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes glued to your cock. You could practically feel his mouth watering for it.
Using his broad chest for balance, you rode him as gently as you could, making up the misses to your prostate with strokes of your cock. You had to keep him down to the bed in what you were unsure was adrenaline, or Dex getting his strength back, even as he fought against you.
He whined after a particular rough push, his eyes moving from your eyes to your lips, a look of pure want.
“Please,” Dex begged, and your orgasm hit you like a train.
You forced yourself to look down, watching the way your hips convulsed as you fucked your fist. Ropes of white shot up Dex’s chest, hitting the hair on his pecs while just barely missing the bandage low on his chest.
You had to bite your lip to keep the hysterical laughter that bubbled in your chest at the look of awe on Dex’s face, his mouth agape as his chest heaved up and down. You clenched down on Dex’s cock, even as you could feel overstimulation starting to rear it ugly head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing it on your face.
You pressed your hands onto his chest when you saw his back beginning to arch off the bed, not wanting Dex to tear his stitchings. You watched him come apart under you, his cock throbbing wildly in your hole.
He was quiet as he came, the sound low and breathy. The only thing you could see being left over from it that wasn’t the mess he was making inside you, was the tight grip he held on your hips. Even if you were able to clean away the mess, and get the stench of sex out of the room, Matt would still probably notice you flinching later. With his hearing, you doubt you’d be able to lie your way out of telling Matt the bruises you had were from fucking Dex too well.
“Now?” Dex asked, his grip loosened, but still remained like a constant reminder.
Letting out one last sigh, you leaned down. Careful with Dex’s injuries, but unable to ignore the way his cum trickled out of you around his softening cock, you let him kiss you. He was nothing if not persistent.
I don't have a spooky Halloween fic, so here's one with knotting to suffice??
Warning for smut, bottom male reader, Clark going through heat, no refractory periods, knotting, and breeding kink (kind of).
“There you are!” Perry said after the elevator doors ding open, “where’s Clark?” He asks as you step out of the elevator, “I want an update on your story!”
Normally, you’d give Perry your undivided attention, still being slightly intimidated by the man even after working for the Daily Planet for years now. But right now, all you want to do is get to your desk and drown yourself in a different assignment.
“I don’t have one,” you snap, tossing your bag onto your desk. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jimmy quickly look away, seemingly fearful of being caught under your angry gaze.
“Where’s Clark?” Perry repeats, “does he have one?”
“I don’t know,” you hiss, “I haven’t seen or spoken to Clark in days,” you say, finally looking at Perry.
“Go find him then,” Perry replies, picking up your bag and pushing it into your chest, “and don’t come back until you’ve written that first draft.”
On top of an already annoying situation, you turn to see most of the office looking at you. They all quickly turn back to their desks or their conversations, including Lois and Jimmy, whose eyes you could feel on your entire walk back to the elevator.
Not normally being the type to cowrite stories, Clark practically begged you a week ago to let him join. On Monday, it made you shudder when you sent Clark the email inviting him to edit the document, but as the week went on, you warmed up to the man.
Clark was… awkwardly charming, you’ve come to learn, something that Lois made sure to highlight the second she heard you were writing a story together.
“Be nice,” Lois said, leaning her hip against your desk.
“I haven’t done anything!” You hissed, looking around in confusion, but when Lois sent you an unimpressed look, you opened up, “I don’t like having my livelihood messed with.”
“Your livelihood?” Lois mocked, a smile breaking her serious expression.
“I could lose my job!”
“This isn’t Clark’s first story,” she said, “and it’s not like he’s that intern we had last summer,” she said with a grimace.
“The one that spilled coffee on Jimmy’s desk?” You asked, trying to think back.
“Mmhmm,” Lois responded, leaning closer when she began to laugh at the memory, “and do remember what happened afterwards?” She asked, glancing at Jimmy’s desk.
“He helped her clean it up,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Clark’s a nice guy,” she said, “he likes helping people, and plus,” she leans down closer, her voice coming out quiet when she speaks again, “he likes you.”
“He likes everyone,” you said with another roll of your eyes. The ding of the elevator pulled you out of your conversation, and, of course, the person who came out was Clark. You shoo Lois away as Clark walks to his desk, Lois turning to smile at you over her shoulder when he makes a detour straight to your desk.
“Hey,” Clark says to Lois, smiling at her before his attention is turned to you, “hey.”
“Hey, Clark,” forcing a smile. You send a glare Lois’ way when you see her mouth be nice over Clark’s shoulder. It did help, knowing that Lois probably had to raise herself up onto her tiptoes to even get her face over his shoulder.
“Hey,” Clark repeats, “would you wanna brainstorm ideas over lunch?” He asked.
Past Clark, you see Lois and Jimmy share a look of surprise. “Sounds good,” you replied, wanting to shake your head at them, but not wanting Clark to get the wrong idea.
But as it turned out, you had gotten the wrong idea of Clark. You could tell that he was crushing on you by the end of lunch, but you could also tell how sweet and charming he was.
It had to have been some sort of spell he put you under, especially from the way your stomach heats when Clark holds open the door for you. It makes you feel crazy knowing that it only took one lunch with Clark for your feelings to change.
Although your feelings had changed, a part of you was still apprehensive about writing a story with another reporter. Something you learned about Clark during lunch was that he was as smart as a whip and was able to pick up on your apprehension.
“Listen,” Clark said, “if our article doesn’t go the way you want,” he looked around on the busy sidewalk you stood on before guiding you with a hand around your arm to a park. “I’ll get you an interview with Superman,” he said quietly, looking around even when there were fewer people.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said, now being the one to reassure the man. You left your arms crossed over your chest so you wouldn’t do something stupid like place your hand over Clark’s.
“So you don’t want an interview with Superman?” Clark asked.
“Let’s worry about our story first,” you replied, already thinking of the angle for your story with Superman.
-
You headed back from your lunch with Clark with his phone number and the address to his apartment. Though it was a Friday, Clark jumped to work on the story by making additional plans to bring you over to his place to work the next day.
That afternoon, you left with a blocked-out time in your calendar to meet Clark tomorrow. It felt like every second since you had gotten back home, you were counting down the time until you would see Clark again.
When the next day finally came, Clark was nowhere to be found. You waited by your phone for the go ahead to come to his place, but it never came. Hours after you were supposed to meet, the only thing your mind could focus on was the worry you felt for him.
It had you leaving your apartment and getting to Clark’s as fast as you could.
“Clark?” You say after you got his voicemail again, “you better open the door when I get there to check on you,” you panted into the phone, “and you better have a good explanation for ignoring me all day!”
You took a second to breathe and calm down when you got into the elevator in Clark’s apartment building. “What am I doing?” You ask yourself out loud. Clark could be completely fine, while you could be minutes away from embarrassing yourself.
“Fuck,” you whisper when the doors open. You could leave and act like this never happened, but the worry you felt seemed to overshadow your other feelings.
You knock on the door, hoping that if Clark was inside, he would come quickly to ease your mind. On the other side of the door, you could hear heavy footsteps approaching before the door swung open.
“Clark?” You ask, greeted by the sight of his flushed face. It could always be weird seeing your coworkers outside of their work attire, especially when they wear a white shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Are you-”
“You need to go,” Clark said, cutting you off.
“Why?” You asked, “are you sick? You don’t look too good,” you observe, giving him a once over. His cheeks were pink with heat, and his body had a light sheen of sweat. He looked like how a normal sick person looks, save for the bulge in his pants.
Clark let out a huff, his broad chest moving up and down, “not exactly,” he said quietly, covering his crotch.
“I can help,” you said, trying to push him back into his apartment. The second your hand made contact with his shirt, you were pulled inside. Moving faster than you could keep up with, all you could do was gasp as you were slammed against the door.
“You should’ve left,” Clark said, the line of his body pressing you against the door. “I told you to leave,” he said, his voice gravelly. He pressed you harder into the door, his hips rolling into yours. The hard line of his cock pressed against yours, making you feel the heat of it, even through the layer of cotton.
“Clark,” you gasped, fear and arousal coming together to sit heavily in the pit of your stomach.
Clark’s fingers dug into your chin roughly to turn your face up. The kiss he pulled you into was rougher than you expected from someone like Clark. He claimed your mouth hotly, his tongue plunging deeply into your mouth.
“You can still go,” Clark said, ripping himself from the kiss, a string of spit remnants of the union.
You brought your hands up to Clark’s face, holding his warm face between your shaky fingers. Clark’s eyes opened to reveal stormy blue eyes, his expression full of anguish. “You’re in pain,” you whispered, unsure if you meant it as a question or observation.
“I can handle it on my own,” Clark replied, stepping away to leave you cold as his warmth left. He turned his back towards you to lean his forehead against the wall.
The sight made your heart lurch seeing Clark in such pain. You walked the few steps it took to wrap your arms around him, your chest resting on his back, “let me help,” you pleaded, lips dragging against his shirt.
Clark was shaking against you, his body moving with pent up energy. You could hear the soft noise of his head pressing against the wall as you slid one of your hands down his chest. As you went lower and lower, Clark’s legs spread, making more than enough room for your hand between his legs.
Clark lets out a long whine at the first touch to his cock, his hips twitching into your hand. It’s hot underneath your fingers, even through the sweatpants Clark wears.
He pulls you until your positions are switched, with your back against the wall, his lips pressed to yours. Clark moans into your mouth as he drives his hips forward, your cock slowly hardening against his.
You stumble your way to Clark’s bedroom, your lips only ever parting to suck in quick breaths. You don’t even have time to look around Clark’s room before he’s got you pressed down on the bed with his heavy weight.
Clark’s a tall guy, so you knew he wasn’t going to be light, but he surprised you in the way his weight pushed the breath from your lungs. You didn’t dare try and push him off; however, you were happy being nearly crushed to death if it meant you kept him around.
His lips moved against yours as his hips did, his hard cock meeting yours over and over again until you were fully hard.
Clark pulls away to wrestle your clothes off, tearing at the fabric like it offends him. It’s difficult as he does it while still trying to kiss you, but you manage.
His shirt comes off first, “fuck, Clark,” you murmur, running your hands up his chest.
Clark’s eyes came into focus, back from pulling your shirt off and drinking in the sight of your body. “What’s wrong?” He asked, full of concern.
“You hide this under the suits you wear?” You questioned, your hands resting on his broad chest.
“I do a lot of walking around the city,” Clarked replied shyly, a blush rising up his cheeks.
“I do too,” you said with a laugh, looking down at your body, “and I don’t look like that.”
“You look perfect,” Clark says, ducking into another kiss.
If you were surprised by Clark’s upper body, his lower body was even more of a surprise. But with a body like Clark’s, it shouldn’t be such a shock to find such a big cock between his thick, muscular thighs.
Your fingers were barely able to wrap around it for a second before Clark is cumming with a long moan, his mouth fallen open in pleasure.
“Clark,” you said nervously, as he came down in what felt like forever, accompanied by a sizable number of spurts. “What’s going on?” You asked, knowing that it wasn’t normal for a man to still be this hard.
“I’ll explain after all of this,” Clark said, looking like he’s close to tears. He gathers you in his arms, his hard cock digging into your stomach as he hides in the crook of your neck. “After it passes,” he added, “I promise,” he whimpered, “please- I promise.”
You hush Clark softly after putting space between your bodies. You force yourself away to get the rest of your clothes off before making your way back into Clark’s arms. The kisses you initiate are softer than before, your hands running softly across Clark’s skin.
“Need you,” Clark moans between kisses, his cock smearing wetly across your stomach.
“What do you need?” You questioned, your hands moving down Clark’s body slowly. You pull Clark into another kiss, not giving him the chance to answer.
Instead of wrapping your hand back around his cock, you instead grab the globes of Clark’s ass, the man moaning into the kiss.
You use it as leverage to bring your hard cocks together, Clark pulling away to gasp. He rolls you over onto your back before breaking the kiss.
You lose his heat when Clark goes to grab something from his nightstand, returning with a kiss and a bottle of lube held in his hand. Though, you wondered if you needed any with the amount Clark came earlier. It made your entrance clench thinking of Clark fucking you with just the tip of his cock and using his cum to lube the rest of the way.
You could settle for lube, though. You spread your legs for Clark’s fingers, gasping through the slick slide of his thick finger. You waited for the pain to set in, but all that came was pleasure. It made you wonder if whatever sickness Clark had, rubbed off on you.
“More,” you moan, clenching down on nothing after Clark pulls his finger free.
One finger becomes two, Clark’s fingers finding your prostate when he curls them. As your moans grow louder, two fingers turn to three.
You reach down to wrap your fingers around his wrist as Clark’s fingers abuse the bundle of nerves deep within your body. Clark groans through the squelch of lube as he fucks you with his fingers, a glob of precum dripping from the head of his cock onto your stomach.
Clark presses his fingers as deep as they can go, his other hand moving to collect what drips from his cock onto his fingers. His eyes look up to your face as he slowly brings his fingers to your mouth. He moans when you wrap your lips around his fingers to suck the salty taste onto your tongue.
Clark’s cock gives a violent jerk, like the heat of your mouth was what he needed to cum again. You gasp around his fingers when another drop of precum falls onto your skin. Clark pulls his fingers free to replace them with his mouth, his tongue immediately making its way inside. Clark groans at the taste on your tongue, his hand moving to the back of your head to angle the kiss to get his tongue deeper.
It probably wouldn’t hurt to get another finger to help relax your body further, but you felt like you would fucking die if you didn’t get his cock instead of his fingers.
Clark laughs softly, “I’ve got you,” he says, making you realize that you just said that out loud. He lifts your legs and rests them on his broad shoulders, his cock kissing your rim. Clark whimpers, rolling his hips and using his cock to gather up the excess lube.
You didn’t know if it would be enough, but still felt your body relax and open up. You raise your hand to Clark’s side, pulling him down when you feel the press of his cock to your hole. Your head falls back onto the bed with a gasp as Clark’s cock carves its path deep within your body.
You feel Clark’s cock throb wildly only halfway inside, the man’s mouth falling open with a moan. “Clark,” you say, looking between your bodies, “did you just-”
“Sorry,” Clark responds, his eyes squeezed shut, “m’sorry,” he repeats, his body shaking through his orgasm.
Through your gasps, you feel the heat of Clark’s cum coating your hole, Clark fucking what drips out back inside. “Clark,” you call, bringing your hands to his face.
Clark’s eyes open, looking upon you wetly. He groans when he finally bottoms out with his still hard cock. He leans down to kiss you, close enough that your cock is sandwiched between your chests. His hard stomach rubs against your cock, the friction making you whimper.
Clark was on his second orgasm, the third you could tell quickly approaching when he started thrusting. Your first, you could feel building steadily, aided by the hard slide of Clark’s stomach.
After wrapping your fingers around your cock, it only takes a few pumps for your orgasm to shoot through you. You moan through it, clenching down on Clark’s cock. It nearly feels endless with Clark giving you constant stimulation to your prostate, but it eventually mellows out.
However, what doesn’t calm is your erection, still hard against your stomach. “Clark,” you whisper, an edge of worry to your voice, “what’s happening to me?” You question, looking up into Clark’s dark eyes.
“It’s okay,” Clark responds, gathering you into his arms, “I’ll explain everything,” he repeats like earlier. Held to Clark’s body, he’s left grinding his hips into your ass, “it’s okay,” he whispers into your ear.
You can barely move, nowhere to run when you feel Clark’s cock get bigger. You both fall into climax as the base of Clark’s cock grows larger, giving the copious amounts of cum that shoot from his cock nowhere to go.
“Clark!” You sob, “what’s-”
“It’s my-” Clark tries to say, but the sentence is interrupted with a groan, “my people go through heat,” he says, his cock throbbing from deep within you, “to repopulate,” he practically purrs, licking the shell of your ear.
It’s hard to focus on Clark’s words, too overcome with pleasure. “I can’t,” you say, your cock spurting out another load as another orgasm rips through your body.
“Your body is changing for me,” Clark whispers darkly into your ear. He reaches between your bodies to grasp your still hard cock, “who’s to say it isn’t possible?” He asks.
Pleasure engulfs every fiber of your being, your eyes rolling back. Your brain is only barely able to register Clark’s words when he speaks into your ear. You’re able to pick up the words, pump you full and breeding before you black out.
You come to slowly, your eyes opening to an unfamiliar space. You aren’t sure how long you’re out, but it’s long enough that the body you could feel behind you was able to arrange you onto your sides.
“Clark?” You ask, your brain catching up when you see a framed article on his wall. You recognized the headline as one of Clark’s first front page stories. The endearing sight made you smile tiredly.
Clark’s body shook softly behind you, his arms around your waist tightening as he buried his face into your nape. You could tell he’s crying, his warm tears running down your skin.
“Clark,” you repeat, running a hand softly down his arm, “are you feeling better?”
Clark lets out a sarcastic laugh, “how can you ask that?”
“I told you I’d help,” you respond, clenching experimentally. “Do you feel better?” You repeat, breathily.
“For now,” Clark responds, “stop!” He hisses when you clench down once more.
“How long will it last?” You question, unsure if you’re asking about his heat or-
“My knot?” Clark asks, licking the back of your neck, “it’ll go down soon, I hope,” he says sheepishly.
“You hope?”
“I’ve never spent my heat with someone else,” he answers. His voice is steady, like any sadness he felt from his tears flew out the window the second you clenched down on his cock. “How do you feel?” He questions, one of his hands running across your stomach.
“Full,” you whine, a hot flash running through your body. Clark was right: whatever fever he had rubbed off on you, and now burns underneath your skin. You grab Clark’s hand on your stomach and move it down until it’s wrapping around your hardening cock, “I need-”
“Shh,” Clark says, circling his hips, his hard cock still lodged deeply within. “I know exactly what you need,” he says darkly.
Going into space brings Johnny home with powers, but also a new set of insecurities.
Before the storm
The launch site buzzed with nervous energy. Even before Ms. Nichols scans you in, from the outside, you feel it.
On the brisk walk deep into the facility, down hallways that all looked the same, she gave you a briefing of the situation:
“Johnny’s freaking out,” she said, leading you to a door.
“Freaking out?” You question. Johnny doesn’t freak out. But how wrong you were.
“Oh,” she replies with a laugh, “we’re all freaking out,” she said, both of you looking back down the hallway to see all of the people you passed by.
“Maybe you’re right,” you said, observing the way the people ran around like headless chickens.
“Good!” Ms. Nichols replied, running her hands across her wind-swept outfit, “just don’t take too long,” she said, sending you a wink. And with that, she went back down the corridor.
Unsure of what to expect, you slowly open the door, “Johnny?” You call, finding the man pacing in front of a window that overlooked the space shuttle. It loomed outside, a presence that you couldn’t tell was ominous or not. That single shuttle had the power to change your life for better or worse.
“Hey!” Johnny replied, coming to a halt, but with all his nervous energy, he threatened to stumble forward, “what’re you doing here?” He asked, his arms open wide as he came toward you.
“I came to see you before your launch,” you lied, pulling Johnny into a tight embrace. Though it seemed like he tried to hide it, you could feel Johnny’s emotions through his body. It took a few minutes of running your hands along his back for him to finally relax into your arms, Johnny letting out a hum as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.
“Aren’t I interrupting your lunch break?” Johnny asked, pulling out of your arms, his brows drawn together in concern.
“It’s fine,” you soothed, running your thumb across the lines on his forehead until he relaxed, “but yes, you do owe me lunch,” you said, pulling Johnny into a kiss.
“Yeah,” Johnny murmured against your mouth as he pulled away, his forehead coming to rest on yours, “anywhere you wanna go,” he said before he moved forward into another kiss. You both knew it was all talk. You don’t know how many times you’ve been reprimanded at work for taking lunches that were much longer than the time allotted because of Johnny.
Really, you didn’t know why you hadn’t been fired yet. Perhaps it was Johnny using the connections he claimed to have to help. You didn’t really mind either way.
“Are you okay?” You whispered after pulling away.
“I’m fine!” Johnny replied, too quickly for what he actually said to be true, "I'm fine,” he repeated, like he was not only trying to convince you, but himself.
“Johnny,” you said softly, running your hand across his cheek, “what’re you thinking about?”
“How this entire mission could go wrong,” Johnny began, his voice only growing louder and faster as he continued, “how we could die, how I could never see you again, how-”
“Johnny!” You interrupted like he wasn’t completely correct. It scared you just as much as it did him, but you were here to calm Johnny down, not make him feel even worse. “You’re coming home,” you said, your voice stern and leaving no room for argument. “We just made lunch plans,” you said, ignoring the way your voice shook as you spoke, “you’re not getting out of them.”
Johnny fell back into your arms, his head lying into the safety of your neck. Johnny’s arms wrapped around your body, holding you tight to his chest, like he was afraid you were the one about to get in that rocket.
You moved a hand to the back of Johnny’s head, careful not to mess up his hair too much before he’d be appearing in front of the cameras outside. Johnny didn’t seem to mind, especially when he nuzzled his face into your skin.
“I love you,” Johnny said, laying a soft kiss onto your skin, making you shiver.
Too overwhelmed by emotions, all you could think of doing was pulling Johnny out to get him into a kiss. Pouring all of your feelings into the kiss, Johnny immediately reciprocated. You never thought you’d ever kiss a person wearing a spacesuit, but here you were.
A light knock to the door ended the kiss, Johnny’s cheeks pink with heat.
“The others are waiting,” Ms. Nichols said, poking her head into the room apprehensively.
“Be right there,” Johnny replied, sending her a glance over your shoulder. Once the door is closed with a soft click, Johnny pulls you back into another kiss, the two of you stumbling towards where Johnny’s helmet sat.
“Wait,” you said, running your fingers through Johnny’s hair to try and make it look like you hadn't just messed it up.
“Where should we go for lunch?” Johnny asked as you worked.
“I’ll think of something while you’re in space,” you replied, pulling away.
Johnny let out a soft laugh, his eyes dropping down to your lips, “let me know,” he said, leaving you with one last kiss before he’s out the door.
-
After the storm
“You might want to cover your nose,” Sue said, her hand already coming up to her face.
“Why’d you bring me somewhere stinky?” you replied, watching the way Sue failed to stifle a laugh, “why’d you bring me here in general?” You asked, watching the arrow on the gauge move.
“You work at the Future Foundation now,” she said, holding her hand out as the elevator doors opened, “and could brush on your diplomacy skills,” she nodded down to her hand, waiting for you to take it.
“Whoa,” you said as your body went invisible when you took her hand, “since when can you do this?” You ask, looking over your shoulder as you walk, watching the way that your footprints were the only thing left of your presence.
“Since I got my powers,” she answered, “it just took me a while to control it,” she whispered as you walked through the crowd of workers.
Your boss did, in fact have a limit to how much time they could let you miss. What used to be 30 minute to hour long lunch breaks, turned into hours you were away, to even days after Johnny had gotten back from space.
You could tell your boss felt bad letting you go, knowing that you were using your time to check on Johnny to make sure he was getting accustomed to his new powers, but you had long reached your limit of the time they could give.
You knew it was coming, but you couldn’t help but feel angry and disappointed. Angry at yourself and your boss, but also a small part of you was angry at Johnny. It was unfair, and you knew that. It wasn’t like Johnny knew he was going to return to Earth with superpowers.
Your unemployment gave you more time to spend with Johnny, but all it really felt like it did was further sweep you up into the Fantastic Four. What came with the group was the Future Foundation, and with that, a new job.
“You can’t just,” you shook your head, “give me the job,” you said, watching the way Sue rolled her eyes. Looking to Reed for help, he only smiled at you, “you haven’t even interviewed me,” you said to the two of them who sat across from you at their dining room table.
“I can,” Sue replied, “and I really need an assistant.”
“Do you really want us to interview you?” Reed asked.
Days later, at that same dining room table, you were interviewed by Sue and Reed. Johnny, who begged to join the interview panel, had to be held back by Ben. He acted as a bodyguard, keeping Johnny away from the table as they spoke to you.
But if he sure did make his protest known, “I could burn right through you, Pebbles!” Johnny yelled.
“Oh really?” Ben asked, “you need more flight training? Want me to toss you out that window, Matchstick?” He asked, much calmer than Johnny was, which you knew made him seethe.
“Boys!” Reed said, trying to defuse the situation.
“You’re hired! Sue said over them, quieting the room, “we’ll see you on Monday,” she said, sticking her hand out. She leaned forward when you shook her hand, “not really though, because you’ll be staying for dinner, right?” She whispered.
“Just because Johnny hates Mole Man doesn’t mean I do,” you whispered to Sue, approaching said man.
“Sue!” The man said, jumping out of his skin, “we agreed you wouldn’t do that anymore,” he said. Not being on the other side of it, you can now tell why Sue does it. You turn away quickly, hiding your laugh behind a cough, “your new assistant?” He asked, waving a hand in your direction.
“Like we agreed, you wouldn’t threaten to revolt every time,” she responded, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.
“Your sewer pipes burst,” he responded, getting up from his desk, “I have people living in excrement under Staten Island,” which, yeah, that was probably why Sue had given you the warning earlier about covering your nose.
“I dispatched a team to handle that excrement,” she responded, moving closer as the man traveled up a tiny staircase to a liquor cabinet.
“Oh! What a grand gesture,” Mole Man said, his words dripping with sarcasm, “thanks for the big favor. I could give the word and they could rise up,” he said, grabbing three of you a glass for the brown liquid in the bottle he held.
“And Johnny could burn through your tunnels and burn everyone alive,” Sue responded, stepping up the stairs, “and I could put a forcefield inside your brain and give you an aneurysm, but we’re not going to do that because we’re not assholes.”
Sue put a hand back onto the top of the railing, a look of pain flashed across her face.
“You okay?” Mole Man asked, his frustration melting into worry.
“Sue?” You questioned, your voice full of concern.
“Baby’s trying to relocate my stomach,” she answered.
“I could hear,” Mole Man said, pouring her a glass of water.
She let out a chuckle at his words, accepting the glass he passed her way. “What’s really going on, Harvey, huh?” She questioned, “I got people working around the clock on those sewers,” she said, leaning back against the cabinet behind her.
“Not my people,” he answered.
“Oh, I see,” she said, “so how about you get me a list of your best workers and I will run the names over to planning myself.”
Harvey nodded, “okay.”
“Deal?” Sue asked, looking over to you, nodding at the other glass Harvey poured.
You stepped up to grab the glass and stood next to Sue. You looked down at the glass cautiously, “I don’t think I should drink on the clock.”
“Deal,” Harvey said, the three of you clinking your glasses together.
“Fuck it,” you whispered before taking a swig.
“Is she working you that hard?” Harvey asked, looking between you and Sue with a look of amusement.
“Yeah,” she said, raising a brow, “am I?” She asked.
“It’s been great!” You said quickly, not wanting her to give you an aneurysm like she just threatened to do to Harvey.
Sue laughed into her cup as she took a sip of water, her shoulder brushing yours, “we’ll let you get back to it,” she said, placing her glass down.
You took another drink, letting the warm feeling wash over you before placing your glass down onto the cabinet. “Thanks,” you said, smiling at the man for the drink.
Sue links her arm through yours, pulling you down the stairs and back to the elevator.
“Tell Johnny I said hey!” Harvey called after you, making you send Sue a look.
“Did you tell him?” You hissed.
“You two aren’t exactly subtle,” she responded with a laugh that ended with a groan as you stepped back into the elevator, her hand coming to rest back on her stomach.
“Should we call it a day?” You asked, helping Sue lean against the wall.
“You just want to go back home and see Johnny,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“No.”
“No?” Sue asked, one brow raised.
“I want to see how the nursery is coming along,” you answered, pressing the button to get you back to the surface.
“Do you think the baby will have powers?” Sue asks, a hand lay delicately on her stomach.
“I think the real question is, do you want the baby to have powers,” you answer, making Sue laugh.
“Sometimes I barely feel used to these,” she says, holding her free hand up, the air around it shimmering.
“You seem to have a good handle on them,” You reply, trying to reassure her as you make your way to the Baxter building. In a new elevator now, your question her: can you actually put a forcefield in someone’s brain?”
“Want me to show you?” She asks, holding her hand towards you.
“I’ll let you save that for Mole Man,” you reply, with a laugh, not suddenly feeling afraid at all. “You aren’t going to tell Johnny about our little trip underground, will you?”
“What trip?” Johnny asks, seemingly too scared that Sue was going to potentially give you an aneurysm, that you didn’t notice the elevator doors were open.
“We,” Sue starts, stretching out the word like she’s trying to figure out what to say, “took a trip to Subterranea.”
Johnny looks from Sue to you, and then back to his sister, “why?” He asks, his expression stormy.
“Diplomacy,” you answer, making Sue smile.
“Yes! Diplomacy,” she repeats.
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” Johnny bites back.
“Johnny,” you say, expression softening at his obvious concern.
“Johnny,” Sue repeats, her tone the opposite of yours. “I see Henry almost every week, and we were fine.
“You know I don’t like him, and you take him?” He questions, pulling you from the elevator to his chest protectively.
“Sue could’ve protected me if anything went wrong, Johnny,” you say, his expression falling, “and nothing did! We’re fine!” You clarified quickly.
“I know you don’t need it,” Johnny snaps.
“Okay,” Sue says, shaking her head dismissively, “I’m tired and need to go rest.” Even if she sounds angry, she still steps up and places a kiss on your cheek, and then her brother’s. “You two can argue amongst yourselves, and you,” she points a finger at you, “can figure out what’s wrong with him.”
Upon Sue’s departure, you can see Herbie in the kitchen. He beeps nervously when you turn to look at him, “hey, Herbie,” you say, trying to ease the tension, “how are you?”
Herbie’s beeps sound much happier, even when Johnny pulls you away. He waves, sending you a chirp as you’re pulled to Johnny’s bedroom.
On the other side, you close the door softly. Though you’re on the inside alone together, you couldn’t feel further apart. You lean against the door and let out a sigh as Johnny goes to sit down on the bed, maintaining a distance between you.
Johnny comes to a compromise by patting the space next to him, his head hung low to avoid your eye as you came to sit down. He knocks your knees together when close enough as he tries sending you a smile, “how was your day?”
You can’t help but crack a smile, “it was fine,” you answered, rolling your eyes. “Sue and I went on a little excursion. I don’t know if you heard,” you said, not being able to ignore the way Johnny sighed heavily, “one that I want to talk to you about.”
“I worry about you,” Johnny responded, “and Sue. Even when I shouldn’t.”
“Sue would’ve protected me if anything happened,” you said softly, placing your hand on Johnny’s knee. “Which it didn’t,” you said at the same time.
“I know,” Johnny said, “that’s the thing, though.”
You looked around for dramatic effect, “where’s Ben?”
Johnny’s head shot up, “don’t do that!” He said, “don’t make me laugh,” he said, even as he was laughing, “I’m trying to explain myself.”
“You’re right,” you said, biting back a smile, “sorry.”
Johnny takes a deep breath before he speaks again, “I feel like nothing works on you, so you don’t need my protection, and that terrifies me.”
“What do you mean, nothing works on me?” You were human in a line of work that involved superheroes. Of course, you needed protection from time to time.
“I’m so used to people falling for me so easily, but you’re not like that,” Johnny answers.
“You don’t think I’ve fallen for you?” You question, running your fingers along Johnny’s knee in a comforting motion. “If I’ve made things difficult-”
“No!” Johnny cuts you off, his eyes locked with yours, “nothing about this is difficult,” he reassures you, “I’ve just been,” he pauses, “stuck in my head since we came down from space.”
“What’s been on your mind?” You ask, your hand going to Johnny’s face when he tries to look away.
“You,” Johnny answers easily, his cheek falling to rest on your palm. If you didn’t love Johnny, you knew at this moment you would. “You didn’t say it back before I got in that shuttle,” he says, letting out a bitter laugh, “it almost made me not want to go, and then I came down changed.”
“Which didn’t change anything between us,” you said, “and it didn’t change that I love you too,” both hands now cradling Johnny’s face.
Johnny’s eyes fall shut, a soft smile gracing his lips. He turns to press them to your palm, long enough for you to feel the way his lower lip quivers.
You pull him in for a soft kiss, “if you cry, I’ll cry,” you whisper against his mouth.
Johnny lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob, his head falling onto your shoulder. He turns to face you better on the bed and practically crawls into your lap as you begin to feel his tears soaking into your shirt.
“I love you,” you repeat, your voice breaking over your words as tears begin to fall.
Johnny's arms snake around your body to pull you up against him, his legs moving to cage in your body. “How long?” He whispers, his red rimmed eyes making eye contact with yours after he pulls away.
You let out a wet laugh, “do you remember when you took the fall when you first started showing up at my job and inviting me for lunch?” you asked, your fingers wiping through the tear tracks on Johnny’s face.
“Your boss fucking hated me,” Johnny said with another laugh. He pulls you into a salty kiss, “remember the first dinner you had with my family, before I had my powers?” He asked.
“When I-” you began with a laugh.
“Spilled water all over Ben’s lap,” Johnny finished, the two of you falling into a fit of laughter.
Johnny moved to rest on your shoulder when his laughter subsided, “he thought we were still friends back then,” he said.
“He didn’t see us holding hands underneath the table by the end of dinner?” You asked.
“He was a rockhead even before becoming a rock,” Johnny said.
“One of the first times I saved you after getting my powers,” he answered, “I wanted to kiss you right in front of all of the camera crews,” Johnny said, smiling at the memory.
“Yeah,” you said, your faces inching closer, “you just waited until after,” you said, pressing your lips against his, just like on that day.
Meeting Johnny at a party makes for a night you'll never forget.
Warning for smut, mean and cocky Johnny, bottom male reader, temperature play, unprotected sex, rimming, and rough sex.
I thought I would finish this sooner, but I got distracted playing Borderlands 4 and then Ghost of Yotei. Then I saw someone post an Alec Lightwood x fem reader smut in the fucking male reader tag, and I was like wtf and had to finish this and put an actual x male reader fic in the tag.
“You’re pretty bad at that,” Johnny observes, pulling his cock free from your mouth like an act of mercy.
Tears fall from your eyes, but you’re unsure whether they’re from the humiliation, or from how deeply you had just tried to take Johnny’s cock. You quickly swipe a hand across your eyes, not wanting Johnny to see and risk further humiliation.
Sure, Johnny’s been the object of your fantasies for longer than you cared to admit, but you never expected to be in his bed. Your thoughts ranged from pure romance, to hot and heavy, but what you never thought of was Johnny being downright cruel.
“You’re lucky you feel so tight,” Johnny says, running the dry pad of his finger across your hole. He lets out a low chuckle when he presses his finger down with more pressure, and your hole tightens, already knowing how painful it would be if he went in dry. Johnny’s cock twitches in front of your mouth, a glob of precum falling from the head and staining the covers.
Johnny’s cruelty began the second he pulled away from your first kiss. The noise he let out when he pulled away was dismissive. Soft, yet disappointed. The sound had your stomach dropping, leaving an icy feeling in its wake.
The second kiss sounded better, if the soft gasp Johnny let out was anything to go by. Perhaps the eagerness you put into it made it feel better for Johnny, which is all that you wanted.
“Take off your clothes and get on the bed,” Johnny commanded, his tongue peaking out to lick his lips. It was how you ended up how you were now, trying to will your tears back, your throat aching, and a finger threatening to breach your hole.
Johnny pulls his finger free to smack your ass cheek, making you jump in surprise. “Get up here,” he says, patting the pillows beside him, his voice sounding as if he’s holding back laughter.
You’re more than happy to lie down on Johnny’s bed and bury your face into one of his pillows. It felt, and smelled like the most expensive thing you’ve ever lain on. The pillow under your nose smelled faintly like Johnny’s aftershave, the rich scent making your cock twitch.
You feel the bed dip beside you as Johnny gets off the bed, and then you hear the soft sound of Johnny rifling through his nightstand. You flinch when Johnny tosses something beside your head, your body going tense.
“Relax,” Johnny says, running his nails softly down your back. What comfort you felt from the gesture was soon replaced with lust when Johnny laid a smack to your ass cheek.
You grunt into Johnny’s pillow when he seemingly decides he can’t leave the other untouched, smacking his hand on that one as well. He grabs the flesh under his fingers, shaking it to watch the way it jiggles.
Unsure if you should be embarrassed, Johnny quickly moves on to duck down and run his tongue across your hole. Your teeth sink into the pillow, groaning into it as Johnny’s tongue passes by once again.
You push back into Johnny’s tongue, moaning when it dips inside. Johnny’s hands hold your ass cheeks spread open, getting his tongue in deep when he presses it inside. His tongue is hot and wet, running at a higher temperature than a normal person’s tongue, but you noticed that when he first kissed you. It isn’t like you imagined he would eat you out; you assumed that he was going to go straight to fingering you, so it made for a nice surprise.
You let out a hiss of pain when Johnny squeezes your ass cheeks, already feeling as if a bruise would later set in. You try moving away from his hands, but Johnny’s hands move in a flash to wrap around your hips to bring you right back.
“Get back here,” Johnny orders, his breath puffing against your slick hole.
Lust runs through your body at Johnny’s commanding tone, your cock throbbing between your legs. Your hips jerk into the bed when Johnny dives back in, his tongue going in as far as it can. You moan into the pillow, clenching down on Johnny’s tongue as you feel his spit dribble down your balls.
“Fuck,” you hear Johnny mutter after he pulls away.
You turn to look at Johnny, your cock twitching as you watch him wipe the drool from his chin. Locked with yours, his normally bright blue eyes are dark with desire. He grabs you by the nape to pull you into a searing kiss, his tongue immediately making its way into your mouth.
You moan into Johnny’s mouth at the musky taste on his tongue, your body moving with Johnny’s when his hand moves to hook his arm around your throat.
Johnny’s knees bracket your hips, keeping you in place. You use what little space under your body you have to bring your knee up, your ass coming into contact with Johnny’s cock. It’s Johnny who moans this time when the head of cock rubs wetly on your hole, mixing spit and precum together.
The kiss grows sloppier as Johnny thrusts, the head of his cock occasionally catching your hole, like Johnny was moments away from thrusting inside. Johnny moves his arm before pushing you back down into the pillows roughly, forcing a grunt from your throat.
You hear Johnny panting behind you for what feels like hours before he finally moves again. It’s a subtle movement, the bed dipping lightly as he moves. What’s louder than Johnny’s panting is the sound of a bottle being opened, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation.
You’re expecting the cold touch of Johnny’s lubed finger, but what is pressed to your hole is the warm, slick touch of his finger. “Warm enough?” He questions.
“Yeah,” you answer.
“You sure?” He questions, “’cause I can make it hotter,” he says, already beginning to push it inside. Seconds later, his finger slowly gets warmer, not to the point that any damage is done, but enough that it’s noticeable.
“I-” you pause, feeling it out, “it’s good, I guess,” you say, your legs falling open to give Johnny ample room to work. “It’s,” you try to say, but your words fall off into a moan after Johnny hooks his finger right into your prostate, “good,” you gasp.
“Attaboy,” Johnny says, running his nails across your back once more, but instead of down your back, his hand moves up to your nape to pull you into a kiss.
You’re barely able to keep up with the kiss when Johnny finds your prostate again, another finger joining the first.
“Relax,” Johnny commands against your mouth before going in for another kiss. After the next, he pulls away with your lower lip held between his teeth, “before you snap my fuckin’ fingers,” he says, even as he continues to work in such conditions.
You will your body to relax, letting yourself rest on the bedspread. By the time Johnny’s at three fingers with a fourth one brushing the edge of your stretched hole, your hips are rolling forward to meet the covers on every touch to your prostate. And when you can’t help but clench down on Johnny’s fingers, it instead brings out a groan from his throat.
Johnny’s precum drips down the back of one of your thighs, moving slowly like molten lava. The touch of it leaves an impression on your skin, making you wonder just what it was going to feel like when he actually cums.
Wondering out loud, you can’t help but ask, “do you have a condom for that thing?” You question, looking back at Johnny’s cock. You questioned not only due to its impressive size, but mainly due to the fact that his cum would likely burn a hole through the tip.
I haven’t been able to perfect it yet,” Johnny responds, rubbing his precum into your skin with the head of his cock, “besides, my body runs too hot for me to carry anything,” he says, making his point known when he pulls his fingers free and replaces them with his cock.
“Fuck!” You cry, not knowing whether you should push back or stay in place.
Making the choice for you, Johnny goes balls deep in one steady thrust, his hips coming to rest on your ass. “Fuck,” Johnny parrots, “how’re you still so tight?” He questions, already sounding out of breath.
The force of it pushes the air from your lungs, making you feel lightheaded. It doesn’t help that you stay pressed to Johnny’s bedspread, Johnny not helping as he leans down to rest his weight on top of you.
You turn your head, forcing yourself to pull in lungfuls of air. Just the simple movement is enough to jostle Johnny’s cock against your prostate, making you moan. “So,” you try to say, but your words end with a moan when Johnny’s cock brushes your prostate.
“Spit it out,” Johnny commands, grinding his hips in a slow circle. The pleasure turns your brain to mush, making it feel impossible to try and connect your mouth to your brain. It seemingly makes Johnny angry as he waits for your words, “tell me,” Johnny growls into your ear.
“So,” you repeat, mind going blank when you accidentally clench down around his cock, “it’s too much!” You whine, your mind finally able to come to some sort of conclusion.
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Johnny questions in return, pulling his hips back. The movement isn’t enough to get his cock all the way out, but it’s enough to feel every single inch of it when he slowly makes his way back in. “With the way you were staring at me tonight?” He questions, taking you back to earlier.
It wasn’t unheard of for the city to throw one hell of a party for the Fantastic Four after a job well done on one of their missions. Usually, you’d decide not to go, not knowing if you’d be able to handle meeting one (or four) of your heroes.
It must have been fate or destiny. The one day you decided to attend the celebration the city was throwing in their honor, you’d end up face-down in Johnny’s bed.
“I thought I was being subtle,” you manage to say.
Johnny lets out a laugh, “subtle?” He asks, fucking deep inside and then holding it there, letting you feel every inch. “I’m surprised you didn’t come over and get down on your knees for me right then and there,” he says, groaning when you clench around his cock.
“Sorry,” you bite out, the sting of Johnny’s cock making it difficult to form a complete sentence.
“I think you would’ve made the scandal from it all worth it,” Johnny whispers into your ear mischievously. You knew his words were just meaningless sweet nothings, but your heart didn’t exactly recognize them as that. “Next time, then,” Johnny concludes, starting to pull his cock free.
You barely had gotten started on your first time, and Johnny’s already talking about a second? “Next time?” You ask through moans as Johnny thrusts back inside.
“With how tight you are?” He asks, leaning down to rest his weight on you, his arms moving to wrap around your stomach, “you’re not going anywhere,” he whispers into your ear.
You grit your teeth and moan into the mix of pain and pleasure when Johnny moves down to bite into the sweaty column of your neck. Involuntarily, you clench around his cock, only making Johnny bite harder.
Johnny’s hips twitch forward, but with little space to go, the movement only pushes his cock further into your prostate. Johnny’s tongue is hot and wet, smoothing over the ache his teeth left before pulling away to bring himself up on his forearms.
Johnny fucks at a brutal pace, his hips smacking against your ass cheeks as he fucks you. You moan when Johnny adds to the mix, one of his hands coming down to smack your ass, the skin jiggling below his hand.
Johnny groans when you tighten around his cock, laying a slap to your other ass cheek, like he’s cracked the code to make your ass feel even better. Adjusting his position, his hands then move up your back, stopping at your shoulders to press you roughly into the bed. He uses your body as a balance to hammer into your, his cock slamming against your prostate on nearly every thrust.
At Johnny’s mercy, held down by his muscular weight, you have no choice but to let the waves of pleasure wash over you. You sob into the pillow, not even thinking about the fact that the other members of Johnny’s team could be back and listening, too caught up in your own pleasure.
Mustering up the energy, you try to get a hand beneath your body and wrap your fingers around your achingly hard cock, but Johnny stops you.
“You cum when I’m inside you,” he says with a thrust, “or not at all,” he says with another.
If he was going to be that way, you had other means. You just hope he doesn’t notice. You play up moving back into Johnny’s thrusts, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way you’re using the action to rut into the bed.
The friction to your cock has your eyes rolling back, and combined with the stimulation to your prostate, you quickly feel your edge approaching. During the time that you think it over in your head on if you should warn Johnny or not, your orgasm hits you.
It cascades over your body, making it the perfect end to a rough round of sex. You’re sure Johnny can tell that it’s hit you, if your hole clamping down on his cock is anything to go off of. Your body goes lax in the wet spot your cock makes, making you shiver when the warm pool of your cum meets your softening cock.
If you thought Johnny was going hard, he somehow goes harder. The force of his thrusts is powerful, the slap of skin on skin ringing out through Johnny’s bedroom. Johnny’s moans grow louder on each movement, the man seemingly approaching climax.
Johnny cums after a few stuttered off thrusts, accompanied by the sound of a loud moan. His hands move to your hips to wrap tightly around the skin, keeping you in place as he finishes deep inside you.
You wondered what it was like for a man to cum inside you, but you aren’t sure if Johnny’s who you should use to base that answer on. You feel every spurt as his hot cum fills you up, some of it even managing to leak past Johnny’s cock and down your taint.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his hips twitching through the after shocks like he was trying to force what leaked out back inside. You whimper at the overstimulation of your prostate, Johnny’s cock feeling as if it’ll never stop.
Johnny leans down to rest on top of you, his arms coming to wrap around your midsection, “too much?” He questions, unable to hide his gasp at his next aftershock.
“I’m fine,” you mumble, turning your head out of the pillow so Johnny can hear.
Feeling Johnny’s cock finally beginning to soften, he presses a kiss to your nape. Turning you both onto your sides, a low noise falls from your lips when Johnny’s cock slips free, the other man letting out a noise of contempt.
“My good boy,” Johnny says tiredly, “knew you could take it,” he says before a yawn takes over his voice.
You’re left with the sound of Johnny’s soft snores minutes later, and a feeling akin to affection flowing through your veins.
I love Peacemaker! I just watched season one again and started the second season. I actually stayed up way too late doing it and was late for work in the morning lmao. I've got two fics written for Vigilante on my masterlist if you want to check them out. I'll probably end up writing more for him because of the new season :)
Post-dinner activities with Johnny include not a nice relaxing evening inside, but instead a sparring match down in the Baxter Building's gymnasium.
Warning for hand kink, sparring matches, dry humping, light choking, and inappropriate use of pyrokinesis.
“That’s gross,” Ben says, swatting Johnny’s hand away from the pot, “that’s freakin’ gross,” he says, watching Johnny stick two of his fingers into his mouth.
Ben looks from Herbie and then to you, a look of disgust on his face. You quickly send him a knowing look before your eyes are back on Johnny, watching the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on his fingers.
Yeah, it would be gross if it was anybody else, but because it’s Johnny doing it, the sight causes a hot feeling to rush through your body.
Catching on, Ben lets out a noise of disgust before you feel him softly pushing you to the table, “sit down!” He commands, pointing a finger at Johnny, “go sit down!”
You aren’t sure if it’s because Ben has the academic qualifications to be an astronaut that he was able to catch on so fast, or if you’re just that obvious, but it has you feeling mortified.
Through your embarrassment you mumble a meek “thanks,” when a plate gets placed in front of you. Not wanting to look up to see the look on Ben’s face, your eyes stay glued to your plate.
Under the table, a hand settles onto your knee, the warmth of it seeping through your clothing, feeling as if you aren’t wearing any pants at all. You look up to see Johnny watching you with a knowing look.
“Hungry?” He asks low enough that only you can hear.
You nod, sending Johnny a smile as that same hot feeling rushes through you once more. You glance over at Ben as you hear him settle heavily into his chair, the man sending you an unimpressed look. Looking back at Johnny, the two of you break into a soft fit of giggles as Ben rolls his eyes, your shoulders knocking together.
“What’s so funny?” Sue asks as she and Reed make their way to the table.
“Nothing,” Johnny answers, letting out a cough into his fist as he tries to fight off his laughter.
“I hate it when they do that,” Ben grumbles as you look from Sue over to Johnny.
“It looks great, Ben,” Reed says, running a hand along his shoulder as he sits down beside Sue.
“I helped with the sauce,” Johnny says, picking up his fork. He sends you a wink when you look his way before his eyes settle back onto Reed.
“Johnny don’t tell me-” Sue says, a forkful of food held in front of her mouth.
“They were clean!” He tells her quickly, “this time,” he mumbles, and this time, you’re joining Ben as he lets out yet another noise of disgust. “I’m kidding!” Johnny says loudly, taking a bite of his food.
Thinking your post-dinner plans are going to be a casual movie-watching experience, you stretch out on Johnny’s bed lazily like a cat.
The weight of Johnny’s body when he lays on top of you pushes out a noise of satisfaction from your throat, Johnny’s hands wrapping around your waist.
Hot breath trails up your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, “what do you wanna do now?” Johnny asks, his lips tracing the shell of your ear.
“I thought we could relax,” you say, turning your face out of the pillow, “but if you’ve got something else in mind,” you hint with a smile.
“Faster than you expect, Johnny flips you over, “come with me,” he breathes, giving you a single chaste kiss before he’s out the door.
Scrambling to follow Johnny, you just miss Ben, the man sending you a look of confusion, “hi Ben!” You say, trying to not look suspicious, “dinner was great tonight,” you say, placing a hand momentarily on his arm, “have a good night!” You call down the hallway, watching as Johnny steps into the elevator.
“Where’re we going?” You ask, leaning against the wall as you try and catch your breath. Looking over, you’re left even more confused when Johnny presses the button for the gym. “Seriously, Johnny?” You whine, “I thought we were going to watch a movie!”
“We can afterwards,” Johnny answers, leaning against the other wall, “besides, I need a sparring partner,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Making your annoyance known, you let out a loud sigh that fills up the space of the elevator, your head falling back into the wall with a thump. “There are less strenuous ways to let your energy out,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did Ben’s dinner put you in that good of a mood?”
“Don’t you dare tell him,” Johnny said, pointing a finger in your direction. He pulls you out of the elevator when the doors open, “come on,” he says with a laugh when he has to yank softly on your arm to get you through the doorway.
He leads you to a locker and pulls out a white shirt with the Fantastic Four’s logo on it and a matching pair of white track pants, “shirts or skins?” He asks, holding up a shirt in one hand, and the pants in the other.
“Is there only one pair?” You ask, trying to look into the locker. You roll your eyes when Johnny quickly shuts it before you can see, yanking the shirt from his hand.
“You don’t want to ruin the nice pants you wore to dinner, right?” Johnny asks with a smirk as he pulls off his shirt.
Letting out another sigh, you turn around so that your back is to Johnny before pulling off your pants, leaving you in your underwear. “This isn’t what shirts vs skins mean,” you complain, turning to face Johnny after kicking your pants off.
You don’t even bother fighting Johnny about taking his pants off, but you instead go to stand on one end of the mat. Looking into the mirror across from you, you watch the way the muscles under Johnny’s back move as he folds your pants and his shirt into a neat pile. Though you’re annoyed, you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling.
“I don’t want them to get wrinkled,” Johnny says as he stands back up.
Unable to stop yourself from finally smiling, you roll your eyes, “and what about these?” You ask, gesturing to the rest of the clothing you have on.
“I’ll be careful,” Johnny says before charging at you.
With the amount of distance between you two, it’s easy to dodge, but the simple movement gets your blood pumping. “Warn a guy next time!” you snap, getting into position as Johnny smirks.
On his next movement, he gets close enough to get his ankles between yours, tripping you backwards. You fall onto your back with a huff, Johnny’s arms coming down onto your chest to pin you to the mat.
“First to three wins,” he breathes into your face, looking oh-so proud of himself. He holds a hand out when he stands up, pulling you up easily.
Back in the middle of the mat, you’re the one to charge Johnny, getting your arms around his waist. As he tries to squirm out of it, you push forward, getting Johnny on the ground on his side, pinning him down by boxing his hips in with your knees.
“Stop distracting me,” Johnny pants.
“What?” You question, pushing him down onto the mat by his shoulders.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” Johnny answers, his hands coming to your hips to push you down.
“Are you fucking-”
“Are you not?” Johnny questions, grinding his half hard cock into the cleft of your ass cheek.
“No!” You snark, “how long have you been hard?” You ask, standing up.
“I’m not hard,” Johnny answers, looking up at you, “not all the way,” he adds when you send him an unimpressed look.
“And how long have you been like that?” You ask, holding a hand out.
“Since I got in the elevator,” he says with a smirk.
Pissed off now knowing you could have been doing this on a much more comfortable surface, without the wrestling, and with a movie in the background, you head back to your side of the room and get back into position.
“Fuck yeah,” Johnny says quietly, stepping backwards into his spot.
You charge once more at him, sidestepping at the last second to get behind him. Wrapping your arms around him once more, you try to get him back down onto the mat, but Johnny’s stronger with his cosmically infused strength.
“No superpowers,” you wheeze, after Johnny flips you over onto your back.
“All me, baby,” Johnny says, getting on top of you, “let’s come to a compromise,” Johnny begins, “if you can pin me one more time, I’ll let you win,” he says, letting his full weight rest on you.
“You’ll let me win?” You ask, “I was already winning.”
“We were tied!”
“Before you cheated!”
“I didn’t!” Johnny says loudly. He lets out a huff before turning to look in the mirrors that line the room. You both watch as he moves one of his hands to your neck, Johnny’s chest glistening with sweat in the reflection. “Get me off,” Johnny says quietly, his hand tightening slowly.
Johnny leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose as his hand continues to tighten. Your cock begins to fill out in your boxers at the feel of Johnny’s fingers around your neck. Those same fingers that have been on your mind since dinner finally touching you directly.
“Get me off,” Johnny whispers into your ear, grinding his hips down into yours. His hand tightens around your neck to the point that you feel like you can barely breathe, and what air you could pull in is short gasps as Johnny continues to press his hips to yours.
Johnny’s hand falls away when you buck your hips up, his hand moving to rest on the mat beside your head. The skin Johnny’s fingers were just wrapped around throbs, the flesh cooling with the chilly air in the gym.
Lifting a hand, you press your fingers slowly into the skin. The pain that’s left when you pull your fingers away makes you cock twitch. The feeling doesn’t last long, but it makes you think about the what if of what it would be like if Johnny left a deeper mark.
The thought has your cock growing harder, and the only thing that relieves the building pressure is when you drive your hips back up. Your head fell back to the mat as your hips kept moving, your mouth falling open as you gasp for breath.
Through the thin layer of your underwear, you could feel Johnny’s hard cock against yours, every fiber of your being wishing that his pants weren’t there. With each passing second, you hope that Johnny will reach down to get his pants out of the way, but he remains in place on top of you.
Johnny’s mouth comes down to cover yours, his tongue making its way inside moments later. You moan into Johnny’s mouth as his tongue licks past your teeth and meets yours.
You trace your fingers down Johnny’s back until your hands meet the waistband of his pants, using Johnny’s ass as leverage to bring your hips together. It’s Johnny’s turn to moan into your mouth when you dig your fingers into the globes of Johnny’s ass through his pants, your orgasm beginning to build as your fingers tighten.
What pushes you over the edge is when Johnny leans down to run his hot tongue along where his hand was. You cum to the feel of the tip of his tongue tracing where his fingers were, his tongue leaving a hot trail of saliva in its wake. Your hands move to Johnny’s hips, holding him in place as you shoot into your underwear, leaving a wet spot that you wouldn’t be surprised to find on Johnny’s pants when he finally pulls away.
Drifting through the aftershocks, Johnny makes his orgasm known when he buries his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, not enough to break the skin, but enough to know that you’d later have a mark.
You gasp at the pain, but turn your head to give Johnny room to work. Your hips can’t but help to twitch up when Johnny moans into the skin between his teeth, sending vibrations through your whole body.
You come down to the feel of Johnny’s tongue licking a soothing stripe along your neck, your body going lax. You turn your head to meet Johnny’s kiss when you feel his nose drag up your neck, the man letting out a sigh of satisfaction when your lips meet.
“I win, right?” You ask between kisses.
Johnny lets out a soft laugh as he pulls away, “not what I meant by get me off,” he says before moving forward into another one, “but I’ll let you win this time.”
You gasp into the next kiss when the cool wet spot in your underwear touches your skin, but instead of pulling away, you move in closer to Johnny. You knew from his extra body heat, the spot would soon dry up.
“Let's get cleaned up,” Johnny says after pulling away, though with his kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown wide, it looks like pulling away is the last thing he wants to do.
There’re showers attached to the gym, but you knew you both wanted to go where you’d be most comfortable. Knowing you wanted to go back to Johnny’s bedroom did little to help how lazy you felt as Johnny pulled you off the floor, the man giggling at your groan.
“Messy,” Johnny remarks as you pull your pants back on, a look of pride on his face with how big the wet spot on your underwear is.
“Stop,” you hiss, knowing his hand away when he tries to run his fingers across the stain, quickly zipping your pants up. “C’mere,” you mutter, running your fingers through Johnny’s hair when he comes closer.
Johnny leans into your touch, his eyes falling shut as you nearly think he’s about to start purring. “Stay still,” you say, laughing softly as Johnny tries to keep leaning into your palm as you fix his hair.
“How do I look?” Johnny asks when you pull your hand away, “hey!” He calls as you walk to the door with a laugh, “how do I look?”
“Hurry up!” You yell back at him as you head to the elevator.
Johnny makes it in time, even as you try and shut the elevator on him, “get back here,” he grumbles, crowding you against the wall.
You laugh into the kiss, burying your fingers into the hair you just fixed. You pull away to the soft ding of the elevator, and then a second later, the curious noise Herbie lets out.
“Woah,” Johnny says, turning to face the robot, “hey, Herbie,” he says awkwardly.
Herbie lets out a happy chirp, one of his arms coming up to wave at the two of you. Training? The robot asks, or, that’s what you assume he asked. You still aren’t quite sure what he’s saying sometimes, even after knowing him for so long.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Johnny says as he leads you out of the elevator, “training,” he whispers, sending you a wink.
“See you in the morning!” You say, waving at Herbie as Johnny pulls you down the hall.
Once you’re behind Johnny’s door, you let out a breath, feeling that you can finally relax. It was bad enough running into Herbie, you knew that running into Reed or Sue, or you just shutter to think about it, Ben, they would never let you live it down.
You watch as Johnny walks into the bathroom, and then a second later hear the sound of the bathtub filling with water. You make quick work of grabbing a change of clothes for each of you to wear, joining Johnny once you’re holding the pile of clothing in your hands.
“Took you long enough,” Johnny says, testing the water, already naked.
“Getting started without me?” You ask, eyeing his naked body.
You pull off your clothes quickly, ignoring Johnny’s “be careful with those!” As you toss them through the open doorway. “Those are expensive,” he says, pinching your ass.
Johnny gets in the water first, gesturing with a beckoning hand for you to join him. You sink into the water moments later, laying back against Johnny’s chest.
“Johnny?”
“Hm?” You get in reply.
“Aren’t we missing something?” You ask, looking down, “like most of the water?”
“Do you trust me?” Johnny asks, pressing kisses to the back of your neck.
“‘Course I do,” you respond, and even if you did, you couldn’t help the pang of nervousness at how ominous a question he just asked.
“Stay still,” Johnny whispers into your ear, sounding just as ominous. A warm hand runs down your dry upper body, growing in temperature as it goes lower.
“Johnny,” you whisper, water splashing softly as you try to shift around.
“It’s okay,” Johnny says softly, his hand coming to a stop above your cock, “ready?” He asks, hooking his head over your shoulder.
No.
“Okay,” you said softly.
Johnny’s fingers skim along your pubic hair, a soft noise sounding as they pass through. The noise is low, almost like the sound of a candle being lit.
“Are you,” you start, looking down at his fingers, “burning my hair?” You question, laughing softly when it comes out of your mouth realizing how crazy it sounds. “What the fuck, Johnny?” You question, letting out another borderline-hysterical giggle.
“I like it like this,” Johnny answers as he continues to work, “it’s something I can run my fingers through.” Kind of gross, but also weirdly endearing.
“You’re good at that,” you observe, watching the way Johnny’s able to pass his fingers through your hair without completely burning it off, that and without burning your skin. “How much practice have you had?”
“It’s practically all that I did in the first few months I had my powers,” Johnny answers, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. “You’re the first person other than myself I’ve done this on.”
A spike of apprehension runs through you, especially with how close he’s now getting to your cock. “You couldn’t of,” you let out an awkward laugh, not wanting to show your growing discomfort, “I don’t know. Gotten a mannequin to practice on?”
“And where would I get the hair from?” He asks, laughing softly.
“Shaved your head,” you squeak out, his fingers getting dangerously close to the base of your cock.
You try to move out of his grip, water splashing along the sides of the tub, “easy,” Johnny says, his arm tightening around your stomach.
Johnny moves his hand to hold it out in front of you, “here,” he says, “hold my hand.”
Slowly, you move to rest your palm over his, and seconds later, there’s a warmth radiating across your skin.
“That’s all I’m doing,” Johnny says softly into your ear.
You let out a breath, “okay,” you say, letting your hand fall back down.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Johnny assures, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck.
“I know,” you respond, wanting to feel silly for even thinking he would, but you would give yourself a little grace given the situation. You won’t tell Johnny that, though.
You can’t help but tense up when Johnny gets to your balls, one of his hands cradling the skin, while the other one works. You also kept help, once you’ve relaxed, the twitch of interest your cock gives.
If Johnny notices, he doesn’t say anything, but you feel the press of his smile into your neck when it does it again, so yeah, he probably noticed.
A pool of warmth starts to grow in your belly, fear and apprehension being replaced by arousal. Your cock grows harder and harder on each brush of Johnny’s fingers against your skin, your breath caught in your throat.
“You’re making it difficult for me to work,” Johnny says, but you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you when you feel the press of Johnny’s half-hard cock into your lower back.
“Sorry,” you respond, apologizing anyway while trying to bite back a sly smile.
Though the water’s gone cold when Johnny pulls his hands away, your body feels hotter than ever. You expect to feel disappointment when Johnny shifts forward to turn the water back on and fill the tub up the rest of the way, but when the hot water hits your skin, all you feel is relaxed.
The sparring and orgasm you had earlier must have done a larger number on you than you expected, making it easy to lie back in Johnny’s arms. Your cock softens in the hot water as it soaks your skin, easing the ache on your body that you could feel setting in the moment you stepped back into the elevator earlier.
There’s always later, you think as you relax in Johnny’s arms.
How you are man? Hope the new requests aren't getting overwhelming
I'm not... ignoring the requests per se, but I saw the new Superman and Fantastic Four movies nearly back-to-back, so I've had a lot of ideas of my own
