Q

he grunted quietly, subconsciously giving your arm a gentle squeeze. he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, resisting the urge to pound into you. “that- that’d be great, clark.” you mumbled, trailing your hand up the back of his neck to tangle in his hair.

“yeah. should i go in as superman or clark kent? imagine what they’d say if superman came in and bought a superman cookie.” he rambled on, growing increasingly happy and giddy at the thought of making people happy.

you stifled a whine as his hips stuttered against you suddenly, feeling him throb and grow harder inside your tight cunt, if that was even possible. you could already feel him so deep inside you, feeling him in your tummy.

“y- you okay, honey?” he asked breathily, asking casually as if it was just another normal day. you nodded, dropping your head to rest against his chest. “yeah. just- just so full.” you murmured, clenching around him needily.

he hummed, bringing a hand down to in between your thighs, rubbing lazily at your sensitive clit. you gasped quietly, a broken whimper falling from your lips. “so good for me, always.” clark whispered, kissing the top of your head softly. “love feeling you so tight around me.”

masterlist | request something | join my taglist

a/n: he’s such a little loser i love him. i need him so badly its not even funny anymore. not proofread, ignore any mistakes!

Your thighs are shaking, pinned wide open by Clark’s hands, his grip near desperate as he ruts into you with a punishing force. It’s not as hard as he could go, you know that he must be biting through his lip trying to control himself. You wish he could go harder, that he could really give it to you. 

He deserves it. He works so hard, he deserves a nice warm hole to pound into after saving the world for the hundredth time—or after turning in another perfect front page piece to Perry.

You’ve brought it up a few times, when Clark was too drunk off the feeling of your lips against his own and the taste of your tongue on his to shy away from the conversation.

You could take it, you’d take anything he gives you with open arms and spread legs and a smile on your face.

Clark’s far too sweet to ever pin you down and just take. He’s a gentleman through and through, he was taught to treat ladies with respect. Superman isn’t an exception to those good farm boy manners of course, no matter how many times you’ve daydreamed about him flying through your window and tossing you on the mattress and using you.

God, you really do love him like this though.

“Sorry,” he pants, forehead pressed to yours, dark curls mussed. “I’m sorry, I can’t—I can’t stop. You feel too good, baby, you’re so good.”

Clark’s voice breaks on the last word like he’s begging you to understand, but the thrust of his hips says otherwise. There's nothing apologetic about the way he’s fucking you—like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Like his survival depends on it. The bed’s screaming under the weight of his body, your body, his strength.

Your spine arches off the bed as his hips slap against yours hard enough to sting, wet and relentless. “Clark,” you gasp, nails raking down his back uselessly. “Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop.”

His cock splits you open again and again, thick and flushed and incessant, pistoning deep and hard and needy. It’s too much. It always is. Too thick, too long, the fat head of him kissing up against something so deep inside you it shouldn’t be physically possible.

The room smells like sex. Sweat and musk and Clark—rain, ozone, sunlight. The sound of your bodies coming together bounces off the walls, the wet slap of skin on skin. The filthy, slick noises of your pussy sucking his cock deeper makes your ears burn.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come. Clark hasn’t. Of course he hasn’t.

“Five,” he groans, burying his face in the sweaty expanse of your neck. “You’re so sensitive now, baby, I know—I can hear it, your heartbeat skips every time I do this—” he pulls out, just halfway, then slams forward and stays there, his cock so deep your stomach distends a little. “Gosh, look at that.”

You’re soaked, ruined, you know it. You’ve been trembling under him for five rounds, but you love it. Every ragged thrust, every strangled apology he can’t stop moaning, every load he pumps into you like his body has to. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, drag him even deeper, and Clark whines.

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna come again—please, baby, let me—please—”

He’s come three times already. You can feel the wet, hot mess he’s made of you, dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets. You’re already so full. You feel full.

The last time he came inside you he barely gave you a minute before he was hard again, aching and apologizing even as he buried himself back in your cunt. His come is still dripping out of you in thick, creamy ropes, and he still hasn’t stopped chasing it. He can’t.

"Yes." Your legs wrap tighter around his waist. You want it. You need it. “Give it to me, Clark.”

That's all it takes for him to lose it again.

His body locks up—hips jerking, mouth falling open with a loud, broken moan.

You cry out as you feel him twitch deep inside you, and then it happens again—hot, endless, thick spurts of come painting your insides, filling you up so full it hurts. Clark’s gasping, his mouth falling open against your shoulder, his whole body trembling. 

His cock doesn’t go soft, it never does. Not when he’s buried in you like this. Not when you keep fluttering around him, squeezing down like you want to milk every last drop from his body.

“Shit, I didn’t mean—‘m sorry—I keep—” His hips stutter and then roll again, like he’s addicted to how you feel around him, like stopping would kill him. “It’s too much—I know, baby—I just—you make me so messy—”

There’s even more come leaking down your thighs in thin streams of white, soaking the sheets, slicking his cock every time he pulls out just to slam back in. You can feel how slippery everything is now, how swollen you are, how stretched. And still—he doesn’t stop.

“You—shit, you take it so good,” he moans. “My good girl—my pretty girl—look at you, look at how much I gave you.”

Clark looks down, a soft groan rips out from somewhere deep in his chest at the sight of his cock punching up inside of you. His eyes go, glassy and unfocused for a moment. That’s the only warning you get before he tilts his hips ever so slightly, and you’re crying out when he hits that spot up inside you perfectly on the next thrust.

That’s a definite perk of dating a metahuman, x-ray vision. You know that even without any special powers he could take you apart until you were a crying, shaking mess. That being said, the MRI eyes help.

Clark has spent hours learning each and every part of your body, inside and out. He’s made a home between your legs and watched your nervous system light up more times than you can count. 

He’s watched the way your dopamine levels spike when he mouths at your clit just right, the way your pulse lights up when his fingers slide deep and curl at just the right angle. He’s studied you like scripture, like a blueprint.

You cry out, screwing your eyes shut as your hands slide down his back. You revel in the feel of him on top of you, the muscles of his back rolling and working under your greedy touch. You’re going to come again, you know you are. The spring inside of you starts coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Please,” Clark gasps, nearly sobbing it. “Let me—one more time, I promise—please—I know you’re full, baby, I know—just one more.”

“You’re gonna break the bed again,” you gasp, too dumb and lost for words to say anything else.

Clark doesn’t respond—maybe he can’t. Maybe he’s already too far gone to hear anything but the desperate squelch of his own come leaking out of your ruined pussy and down the hard length of his cock.

“I love you—I love you so much," he mutters incoherently, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the meat of your hips as his cock carves a place for itself inside you. "You feel too good—god, you were made for me.”

The mattress jerks violently beneath you with every thrust—you can feel the wood frame groaning, splintering. Not the first time. Probably won’t be the last.

It’ll be worth it.

MINI NAT'S NOTE: anyway this movie changed my life. i started rewatching 70s superman the second i got home. james gunn thank you for making superhero movies with love and whimsy again.

thank you so much for reading, love you!

He’s sat in the chair directly across from where you stood, his eyes not leaving you. You’re standing between Reed and Sue, the squeaking of his marker making Johnny close his eyes in disagreement. It’s so antagonizing just.. knowing each frantic erase meant adding more time to the meeting. You felt heat on your back, sending a shiver through your body. Ben glances at you, opening his mouth to comment on your sudden movement, but shut his mouth. Maybe you just got a chill?

Your eyes flicker up as Reed spoke, looking at Johnny. He’s slouched in the chair, legs spread with his head tilted to the side a little. One elbow is propped up on the armrest, fiddling with a paperclip, and the other arm is laid on his lap lazily. His eyes are locked, glaring as he focused on you. He looked like he commanded the room, he radiated power. Power he used on you.

Reed hums, another idea coming to him, because of course it is. He’s only the smartest man in the universe. “So, if we take this route, we run the risk of getting intercepted from the one way exit. It’s easy and secure until we get there. Anyone have any ideas they would like to add?”

You cleared your throat, preparing to propose another idea, “We could split up. If we get intercepted, at least it wouldn’t be all of us. This way, the others could come around and hit them from behi-,” your voice catches, cutting you off as warmth caresses your inner thigh. Your eyes closed, mouth snapping shut to prevent yourself from moaning in front of the team. “Honey, are you okay? Do you need some water?,” Sue comments, placing a hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath, before looking to her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little under the weather. Thank you though,” you lie, giving her a grateful look. You felt horrible lying to her, knowing her genuine concern for you, but you couldn’t let anyone, let alone her, know that her brother was teasing you during a very important meeting. She nods, returning the smile before both of you move your eyes back to the map in front of you. You take one more glance up to Johnny, who’s now looking to the ground as he now spun a pen around in his fingers. He’s pretending to be bored by it all, but he’s now heavily intrigued in this meeting as he tries to to get you hot and bothered.

He’s succeeding.

He knows he is.

It’s not like he’s never saw you like this. Just this time, it’s more interesting to see you revel under his touch, as you try to shrug it off.

“I like that idea. The next time they come back, we’ll be ready for them. I appreciate you and your team working with us, you’ve been more than helpful. Now, about sending a few of us through this building— what are your plans to hit them in the dark?,” Reed asks, now switching to a tablet, showing the blueprints to a warehouse. One where you plan for Yelena, Ava, and Walker to take out a group in the dark. Your body has calmed down, your voice now strong again as you point at the tablet.

“If we send Ghost through here, she can hit the transmission and knock the power out. I’ve read up on the building’s power lines. If she does it correctly, we’re looking at the power being rerouted. It would take at least 3 minutes for the generator to start up, and the alarms wouldn’t trigger if we cut the wire to them first. Saying she does this right, it would give Yelena and Walker time to take them out in the dark, significantly lessening the blow on the rest of us. I’ve seen their work before in a similar situation, at an O.X.E facility. They’re perfectly capable for a job like this,” your voice firm, confident in your team as you pitched the idea to him. Reed nods his head, tapping his fingers on the table. Sue and Ben exchange a look of approval, trusting your judgment.

“Are we looking at any guards? Anything possibly unprecedented that we should take into consideration?” You nod at Reed, before zooming into the map. “This building, last year, had some suspicious activity. There were some guards that came and went. Some days there were none, others rotated ever so often. Just last month, I spotted a handful of them going in and out. Their gear was unmarked, but,” you voice falters. Heat ignited between your legs, right at your core, making you grip the table and shut your eyes tight. “Are you okay? It seems like you’re not doing the best,” Ben comments. He’s noticed your moments of weakness during the meeting, but after three times it’s more concerning than he thought. Through clouded eyes from the tears threatening to fill your eyes from the stimulation, you look at him and nod. He stares at you for a moment, before turning around to grab a thermos of water. You looked at Johnny, who’s looking at you blankly, eyes slightly dark, and he mouths:

“Keep. Talking.”

The rest of the team are busy looking through files, giving you time to mouth a reply back.

“Stop. Teasing. Me.”

He smirks, tapping his foot slightly.

“Make me. I dare you.”

You shake your head in frustration. He won’t back down. He’s going to tease you until this hell of a meeting ends. No one noticed how your hands grip the table so tight that it creaks and your knuckles turn white, or how you’d unconsciously made a face of pleasure as you looked down at the map again.

Well, Johnny noticed. And it made him want to make you suffer more.

Your legs pressed together, feeling the warmth from before travel in circles around your center. You looked back at him from the table, noticing the pen from before was now bit between his teeth, as a small flame came from his fingers in your direction, slowly making the motions of rubbing you. He stood up from his chair, placing the pen on the desk beside him, before walking around the table and behind you. He reached around you, hand extending to grab a sheet on the table, as his other slides around your hip and into your pants, going between your legs. His fingers rub slow, painful circles around your clothed pussy as he keeps the façade of reading up. His breath was hot on your neck, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering:

“That’s it, baby. Be good for me. You’re so wet. Interrupt the meeting or have attitude with me again, and I’ll drag you right out of here to remind you how to listen to me.”

A small moan escapes you without warning, and he kisses your neck before harshly cupping your center, then removing his hand from you. He takes the papers he was “looking at” back to his chair, propping himself up again in the same way he was before: one hand preoccupied as the other was free, ready to tease you again at any moment. Your knees buckled, yearning for his touch to come back to you. Everyone else was heavily into looking through files, talking amongst themselves. You could be helping them, but there’s no way you’re in the right mind to do so. Not when you’ve got Johnny Storm, the universe’s hottest man, watching you like your prey as he thrives in your agony. Just as you thought he was done teasing you for now, the heat against your core returned. You’re struggling to keep quiet, knowing you cannot give into this. A smirk formed on his mouth as he watched you writhe oh-so-subtlety, your eyes following each movement his fire-lit fingers made. You’re lucky your knees haven’t given out, and that everyone is still looking through their plans and information. You looked at him again, eyes glaring before you rolled them, pleasure and frustration taking over. Johnny’s flame extinguished, hand moving to take the pen out of his mouth. His smirk falls, and he ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’s at you, shaking his head. Now you’ve gotten more attitude with him, and he told you what he’d do. He placed the paper beside him on the desk, moving to stand up. Then, he stops.

“We’re missing some files, Reed. I’ll have to go through the system and see what I can find,” Sue interrupts the silence, turning around. Ben agrees, with some of the blueprints he’d been going through being too outdated to be a trustworthy piece of data. Reed nods again, before clearing his throat.

“Alright, we’ll call it for now. Everyone, do what you can to find more up-to-date information and layouts. Meet back here tonight around 8,” he declared, his leadership coursing through this voice. He pushed his glasses up, before grabbing the tablet and folder with one hand, and reaching the other out to Sue to guide her to the office. Ben follows suit, taking a thick portfolio with him, heading off to the another part of the Baxter Building. The door shuts, the silence was deafening. The chair creaked as Johnny stood up, making his way over to you. You turn so your back is against the table, though not looking at him.

“You’ve got an attitude today, huh?,” his voice calm, concerningly calm as he stood in front of you. Instead of playing into his words, you let some of your frustration take hold of your actions and you ignore him. You move from the table, walking away from him and towards the door. You don’t hear him coming up behind you, until the door slams shut before you could make it through the frame. You turn to face him, and his body is so close to you that you’re practically pressed against his. He locks the door, sliding the hand up your body and around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, it’s not a tight grip. It’s a reminder of who’s in charge. It’s warm, passionate, controlling.

“I told you to keep that attitude in check, didn’t I?”

He pushed against your neck a little more, the slightest ounce of pressure now tightening your airways.

“You want to go against my orders? You better be ready to take what comes with it, sweetheart.”

Thoughts run in your mind. You could answer him and let him take you now, ending your desire for him after the tantalizing hour-long meeting— or, you could keep being a brat to him to see what really pushes him over the edge. Yeah, that seems like the right one. Your eyes glare at him, “I don’t have to listen to you. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me. You even have to use your powers against me because you can’t help yourself.”

“Oh, honey, I know how to keep my hands to myself. There you were, so damn interested in your little plan, I just had to make it interesting for me,” his voice low, face dangerously close to yours. So close, you could kiss him with the slightest movement of your head. But you’re not going to. You’ve got more fight in you.

“I tried to ignore you. I told you to quit teasing me.”

“And I told you to behave or else.”

“Yeah. Or else what?”

That was it. That pushed him. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tightly above your head, as the hand around your neck pressed even tighter.

“You really want to find out, princess? Because right now, I really want to bend you over that table and fuck some sense into you.. remind you who you belong to and who you’re gonna listen to. All because you didn’t want to behave today,” he growled, voice darker than you’d ever heard it sound. He let go of the hand holding your wrist, moving it down to your pants to start unbuttoning them. Maybe one more snarky reply wouldn’t hurt.

“It’s not my fault you have no self control.” His hand left your neck and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look straight into his eyes. “I’d be real careful if I were you, sweetheart. You keep it up and I’ll have the entire building know how much of a brat you’re being.” Your eyes stare into his darkened orbs, the look matching his intimidating one. The hold on your jaw tightens, stopping you from sneaking another remark in. “You really want me to stop teasing you? Fine. You asked for it.”

He picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the table in the middle of the meeting room. He basically throws you down on the table, face first. Your hands are beside your head, reaching straight out in front of you. He makes quick work of your pants and underwear, pushing them down in one solid move. He glides his hands up your waist, up to your arms to grab you by the wrists. With one hand, he holds them behind your back.

“Think you can listen to me now?”

You shake your head no. His snarls are loud, and you could swear you felt his body temperature raise. The grip holding your wrists together stays steady, but his movements stop. It was silent, too silent. You turned your head to look back at him, before feeling his hand push your head back down. His breathing slowly got louder, matching your racing heartbeat. He’s thinking about something. Then, he huffs.

His palm lands on your bare ass with a loud, sharp crack. It burns, but not the way a normal slap does. He smacked your ass while his hand was ablaze.

“Count,” he demanded, the words falling from his mouth were laced with desire.

The smack burned, the pain of the hit made it worse. You couldn’t really process it, before he spoke again.

“Count,” he ordered again, voice deeper as he felt anticipation charging in his veins.

“One,” you finally muttered out, teeth gritted together.

“Louder. I can’t hear you.”

“One.” You spoke with as much stability as you could muster.

“Good girl,” he praised, rubbing the red print on your ass.

With each strike, his hand warmed more and more, and the pain was almost too much, but not enough that it wasn’t still the hottest punishment you’d ever received. Literally.

By the 6th smack, your voice had fallen to a light whimper. You can almost tell the way he’s looking at you with each hit. There’s no smirk, no smile. Just a focused look on you, mouth open in admiration for how you’re doing as he says, with his teeth gritting after he landed each one.

“Now you’re behaving me, huh?,” he bends over your back, lips close to your ear, “It’s a little too late for that, sweetheart.”

He leans back up, rubbing his warm hand over the prints he’d left on you, light burns and palm shaped welp marks overlapping each other.

“Now, you’re gonna keep listening to me, correct?”

You nod quickly, eager for his next move.

“You’re not going to come until I say you can. Not until you tell me who you belong to. Do you understand?” His voice is strong. Commanding. Controlling.

The sheer power in his voice brought shivers back down your spine. He’d never been this dominant. Sure, there were times, more often than not, that he had control over you in the bedroom. That was just Johnny’s nature. But this? You have yourself to blame for this. Had you just listened, he’d not been this powerful over you. Not to say that’s a bad thing, not at all. Hell, you were enjoying this.

Your breath is shaky, not really having it in you to respond.

“Hmm? Do you?”

You nod you head, but that’s not enough for Johnny.

He lets go of your wrists and at the same time, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you harshly up to him.

“Say it.”

“J-Johnny..”

Another harsh smack to your ass, hotter than the previous ones.

“Say. It.”

“I’m yours, Johnny. Only yours. I’m yours..” you quickly whimper out, the whiniest and most pathetic your voice has sounded the entire night.

“There it is. Now, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl.”

He unzipped his pants, pulling them, alongside his underwear, down to his ankles.

He rubbed his cock a few times before lining it up with your absolutely soaked pussy. As he pushed in, the heat from his body had you clench around him, your exposed core was cold in comparison. He pushed your head back down, grip never faltering on your hair. His other hand holds onto your hips, bracing himself so his thrusts hit as hard and as deep as he could possible get them to go.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, each thrust hitting that spot. Your hands reach to grab something to hold onto, one finding some sheets of paper to grip and the other holds one of Johnny’s wrists as they’re holding tight onto your hair. Your moans are more whiny than anything, showing Johnny just how desperate you were for this.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all for me. That’s good,” he praises, disguising his moans with the words. You could barely make what he said out over the sound of your uncontrollable whines of pleasure.

He gripped ever so slightly tighter on your hair, using it as a reign to pull your body into each of his thrusts. Fuck, does he want to make you come now, but he also wants to tease you just a little more.

He pulls out of you, causing you to let out a sad moan, immediately missing the feeling of how he felt.. He tugged on your hair, bringing your weak body to a stand. Letting go, he turned you around to face him, lifting your arms, and removing your shirt before taking his own off. His eyes scan up and down your exposed chest, revealing in the beauty before him. He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to sit in the table.

“Open your mouth.”

You obeyed, your lust-filled eyes driving him insane. He wastes no time, grabbing the hair at the top of your head and fucks his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes start to close, and he yanks your hair to bring your gaze back to his.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on mine.”

It’s hard. You’re already getting exhausted, but you don’t want it to end and neither does he. You’re enjoying your punishment. His fingers go deep into your mouth, just almost enough to make you gag, but he knows your limits. He respects them, even when he’s fucking the shit out of you like he is tonight. There’s the unspoken trust the two of you share. Sure, he may be an asshole, tonight more than usual, but in your relationship he wanted you to trust him. He treated you like a princess, worshipping the ground you walked on, respecting you even in your deepest, most sensual moments like this.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, taking his hand down to your pussy. The two fingers slid in perfectly, reaching as far back as he can, curving as much as can, as quick as he can. Your hands hold onto his shoulder, head buried into his neck as he uses you for his own viewing pleasure. “Fuuuck, Johnny, please, let me- ughhhhhh,” you growned. He stopped again.

“I told you, not until I say so. I thought you understood?,” you did. But you couldn’t control it, not when his warm fingers were as deep into your cunt as the were, his breath blowing straight onto your face as he moaned in safisfaction. By now, tears were filling your eyes from the many times you were denied pleasure, denied your desperately needed release.

You wanted to respond, but you just couldn’t form coherent words, stuttering over the same few sounds. The two fingers from your core are brought to his mouth, as he looked you dead in the eyes, licking your slick off of them. Then, you felt a slight smack to your face. Warm, as he uses his powers against you for the seemingly thousandth time tonight.

“Are you going to answer me? Do. You. Understand?,” he questioned you. He knew you did, but he was addicted to the way you were already losing it from the relentless teasing.

“Yes.. Yes, I understand,” you whimpered out.

“Good girl.. That’s what I thought,” his hand moved back down to your throbbing core, rubbing it lightly.

“A little reward for you. Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Mmm-hmm, it.. sure does.. Johnny,” you whisper out, pleasure numbing your responses.

He hums back, kissing your forehead. He was giving you a break, reminding you that despite how harsh he’s been tonight, he still wants you to feel loved. It’s a small gesture, but there’s an understanding between you two. It’s short, sweet, refreshing.

He stops his movements, taking his hand away and moving it to your hip.

“Please, Johnny, I.. I..” you whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your head against his bare chest. He knows exactly what you want, and what you’re trying to say to him.

“You think you deserve it? After mouthing off at me? You need my cock buried inside you? The one belonging to the man you smart-assed?”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m so sorry, Johnny. I’ll be a good girl for you,” you promised. The levels of desire and yearning were taking over you, making you say whatever got you closer to finally getting to come.

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you off his chest.

“You promise you’ll be good? If you’re not, you’re going to make me ruin you all over again. And you wouldn’t want all that, would you?”

Vigorously shaking your head no, you tilted your head to look at him, using your best puppy-dog eyes.

“There’s not an ounce of fight or attitude left in you, is there? Looks like my job is almost done,” he noted, knowing you’re both more than ready to receive the full extent of your punishment.

“Ruin me, Johnny. Please. I need you,” your voice is small, but he heard you perfectly fine. He taps your legs, signaling them to open farther, running his hands down your body before stopping one at your hips.

“No, sweetheart, you don’t get to need me. You’re going to take what I give you. You got that?”

“Yes, mm-hmm, yes.” You’re not sure how much more desperate you could sound, but you’re more than overdue his touch, and you’re willing to do anything to relieve yourself.

His other hand holds the back of your neck, bracing you as his slams into you in one rough thrust. It’s desperate, it’s aggressive, it’s needy. Just like you.

Your moans are loud, echoing off the walls and right back into your ears. You can barely hear his grunts under the sound of your own cries of pleasure.

“Oh, baby, that’s it. Yeah.. that’s it. Take everything I’m giving you. Taking it all so good… my sweet girl.”

He doesn’t set a pace, a rhythm, anything. It’s just him fucking you as hard and as much as he can get from you. By now, you’re overstimulated and haven’t even gotten your release. You know it’s coming, and part of you doubts you’ll get it— that he’ll pull back out of you again and ruin your orgasm, much like he’s ruined you all night.

He’s denied you, teased you, fucked you, fingered you, everything. There’s not much else you could take if he were to pull out of you. Hell, you’d probably come just from the thought of it all.

“Fuck, you’ve got the tightest fucking body. You knew what you were doing, huh?”

You didn’t respond. You weren’t even going to try this time.

Another slap to the face; not hard, not too painful. Just enough to bring you back to him. The flames flickered off his hand as his touched your skin. You hadn’t even noticed the heat.

“Didn’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” is all you could muster.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked stupid. I don’t even have to move,” he abruptly stops his thrusts, and you don’t even notice for a second— your hips are rocking back at his without knowing, “See? You’re so lost in it all.”

He picked his thrusting back up, moving his hand from your neck, and to your other hip. You put your arms over his shoulders, holding your body closer to his as to keep yourself braced. You’re close— dangerously close.

“I can’t anymore, Johnny, I’m.. I’m gonna..”

“You want to come, sweetheart? Who do you belong to?”

“Mmmm, I’m yours, Johnny, I’m forever yours,” you croak out, voice hoarse and throat hurting from the now hours of teasing and denial.

“Good girl… such a good girl. Come for me, baby,” he finally said. After what seemed like forever, your release was here.

And you’re destroyed. Your body shakes as your nails scratch at Johnny’s back, the intense wave of your orgasm driving you insane. You practically convulse as your moans are nothing short of loud, hoarse whines.

He comes inside you, and had you not felt the warmth of it filling you up, you wouldn’t have been in the right mind to know it happened. The combined symphony of your moans and his bounced off the walls of the room, the silence holding the two of you making it all more sensual. Your body is shaking, hips involuntarily jerking as he’s still inside you. The feeling of his warm cock has you clenching him, and he’s still moaning at each one. You feel his hands run up your body, holding your arms and pulling back to look at your face.

“That’s my girl, you did so good- hey, are you okay?”

You feel one of his hands rub at your eye. You’re crying, and you didn’t even notice.

It’s not from pain, or agony, or anything of the sort.

You’re just downright exhausted. You went through hours of denial and to finally be granted the okay to let it all go? Yeah, you’re absolutely spent.

“I’m okay, just overwhelmed,” you laughed, giving him a small smile, “that was a lot.”

He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You can hear his heart thumping still, letting you know that he needed this almost as bad as you did.

“Easy, princess, I got you. Just breathe with me, okay?” He kisses your forehead again, before setting a steady breathing pattern for you to follow. A hand runs through your sweaty hair, lightly scratching your scalp as an act of comfort.

You hum in content, kissing his chest as a ‘thank you.’

“Did I go too far? Was I too rough on you, baby?”

At first you didn’t respond, trying to focus on keeping your breathing steady so you wouldn’t just lay back and pass out.

“Baby, tell me. I’m worried now, did I do too much?”

He feels your head slowly shake against his chest, and he let out sigh, relief showering him. He didn’t even think during most of it, neither did you; you were just living in the moment of it, too caught up in the tension to have anything else run through your mind. Now that you both were recovering, his voice matched yours; hoarse and spent.

“It was amazing, honey. Perfect, even,” you spoke against his skin, before kissing up his chest and to his neck, each one filled with love and reassurance.

“Thank God,” he said with a long sigh, “look at me.”

You obliged, looking up at his face. He’s so handsome like this— the level of care and comfort he gave you after each private session where you showed each other the amount of trust and love you shared. It was raw, it was.. always so perfect. Johnny may be an asshole, and yeah he’s got his moments with you. But he’d never want to hurt you, and deep down he knew that you’d let him know if he did. And tonight, despite the rough demeanor, you both knew you trusted each other, and would be reassuring if the other ever doubted.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so good, always so perfect. You’re such a strong woman. I love you, so damn much.”

And just like that, the tears threaten to fall again. This time from the love you felt for him. He rested his forehead against yours, taking in the peaceful silence left between you too. You took his chin in your hand, bringing him in for a kiss. One filled with more love, more reassurance, more trust, more than anything the two of you had voiced tonight.

“If I ever push you to your limits, or I hurt you, or.. if anything ever feels wrong, you’ll let me know, right?”

You nod, putting your forehead against his shoulder.

“Of course I will. Never once have I or did I feel like you would. I trust you, Johnny. I always will. I love you with all of my heart.”

A few moments of silence pass, before he goes to move, finally pulling out of you. Your core throbs at the loss of what felt like a perfect puzzle piece. Johnny puts his clothes back on, and walks across the room to gather the pieces of your clothing that he threw. He offered you his hand, and you hopped off the table. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you almost, legs weak as water.

“Woah, woah, woah, I gotcha.” He lifted you back onto the table, helping you redress as much as he could without you standing. “You sure you can walk? Or do I need to carry you?”

“I got this, watch me,” you playfully rolled your eyes, before hopping off the table once again, a little sturdier this time, buttoning your pants. Standing was one thing, but actually walking? Yeah.. that’s not happening right now.

“Okay, I’m carrying you. Come on, sweetheart.” He muttered to himself as he bent down to carry you. You yelped in surprise as he lifted you, carrying you bridal style to the door.

“You know, one day I’ll be carrying you through a doorway just like this, except it’ll be on our wedding day.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was one thing that many people agreed on: Johnny Storm was not marriage material.

You never expected him to say anything about that— ever. You were content with just being with him, married or not. But to hear him say those words? That one day the two of you will get married? It made your heart swell.

“Oh, really, now? You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Of course I have. I would love nothing more than to grow old you with, baby.”

The two of you come to a stop as you arrive at Johnny’s room, and he puts you down for a second to unlock the door.

“Like this,” he states, picking you up again and crossing into his bedroom. Your head just barely hits the frame, and he stops, frantically making sure you’re okay. You’re laughing, and the look of panic on his face somehow makes it even funnier. He watched you crack yourself up with a loving smile, just thinking about how much he adored you.

After the two of you finally got into his room, he sat you down at the edge of the bed and went to run a bath. Once you both relaxed in the warm water for what seemed to be forever, you both got ready for some well deserved rest, and nestled into his bed.

You’re curled up into his side, your head on his chest, ready to doze off before you heard him speak.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hmm, just tired is all. I’m more than okay,” you promised, nodding your head against his warm chest.

“Tired from what? Having so much attitude or getting what you deserved for an hour?”

Ah, there it was. There’s the Johnny you knew. Now, not to get it misconstrued or anything, you loved when Johnny had his soft, romantic side. But this? This version of Johnny is what you loved the most. His sarcastic, joking manner. You flicked his chest, laughing slightly. His grip on you tightened, starting to laugh with you.

A few moments pass of you both just taking in the peace and comfort of being in the presence of one another.

“You really do trust me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. With my life, Johnny.”

He doesn’t reply, not immediately. You feel him nod, and the hand on your arm rubs up and down.

“There’s no one else on this Earth I’d rather spend my life with.”

He opens his mouth, ready to hit you with another joke, but he stops himself.

“Get some sleep, you deserve it. I got you, sweetheart.”

You nestle closer, and Johnny pulls the sheets up farther up over the two of you. Listening to his heartbeat as the calm, grounding sound echoed in your ear, you drifted off into sleep, in the arms of the man you loved more than life itself.

He was lounging on the couch, wearing gray sweatpants, a white tee stretched across his chest, and reading something with his glasses perched on his nose.

You hit record.

“Babe?” you asked innocently, phone angled just right.

He looked up, already smiling. “Yeah?”

Without warning, you straddled his lap, facing him. Your arms draped lazily around his shoulders, and you tried—tried—to look nonchalant.

Chris blinked.

Then his hands immediately slid to your hips, warm and possessive.

“Okay…” he said slowly, lips twitching. “What’s goin’ on here?”

You shrugged. “Just missed you.”

“You were in the kitchen two minutes ago.”

“Still missed you.”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering to your phone camera briefly before returning to your face with a smirk.

“Mmhmm. You’re filming me.”

Your mouth opened. “Wha—no I’m n—”

He squeezed your hips and leaned in, voice low and dangerously amused.

“Oh, you wanted a reaction? Sweetheart, you sure you wanna post what happens next?”

You flushed, squirming slightly on his lap — mistake. His grip tightened and his eyes darkened like a storm rolling in.

“I mean,” he whispered, mouth brushing your ear, “you knew sittin’ here would wake him up, right?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Chris leaned back, smug, smug, smug, his cocky grin spreading as he gently took the phone from your hand and ended the recording.

“Hope you got what you needed for your little prank,” he said, standing up suddenly — with you in his arms.

“Where are we going?” you squeaked.

“To finish what you started, TikTok menace.”

-------

Marvel Taglist: