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E and F: Experience and First Time- Aerion Targaryen
1.3k words
Reader is a courtesan, and Aerion is his client for the night.
Warning for bottom male reader, praise kink, and first times. It isn't Aerion's first time in general, but it is his first time with a man.
I've only seen A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, so sorry for any inaccuracies with Aerion's character.
“Not that this doesn’t,” you let out a grunt more of pain than of pleasure, “feel good, my prince,” you said, hesitating to use the words. The occasional brush to your prostate by the Aerion’s hard cock certainly felt good, but that was far and few between, especially with such a brutal pace. “But-”
An arm locks around your neck, “but what?” He breathes into your ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin, “but what?” He questions louder, his pace slowing momentarily.
You couldn’t tell if he’s slowly starting to pick it up, or if he’s already tired himself out, but your skin is thanking him for it. The arm around your neck tightens as Aerion pants into your ear, still waiting on your answer.
“Perhaps we could switch positions?” You ask. His pillows did look quite comfortable.
Aerion pulls out with a scoff, “am I not satisfying you?” He questions mockingly.
Not really.
You tread carefully in finding your answer, knowing that you’ve struck a nerve. Many of the men you’ve slept with in the past could be like that for various reasons. Whether that be insecurity, guilt, or post-clarity rage.
“You are!” You reply quickly, turning to face Aerion to send him a reassuring smile. You let out a sigh, hoping that he wouldn’t be too angry, “but-”
“But what?” Aerion sneers, interrupting you once more, “I did not call on your services to be mocked,” he said, turning his chin up.
“Of course, Prince Aerion. But please believe,” you laid a hand on your naked chest, “that is not my intention. It would just be more enjoyable for both of us-”
“Why should I care about the pleasure of a common whore?” Aerion questions with a sardonic laugh.
The smile on your face grows smaller and into more of a grimace before you correct it, “I suppose you are right,” you say softly. The words aren’t anything you haven’t heard before, but it is particularly insulting to have them thrown at you for simply trying to help.
You glance over at Aerion, noticing the way his cock is still hard, though yours had flagged when he yelled at you. Perhaps it is what he is into. Another small piece of information you would learn about your clients when you lay with them.
You knew how this would go, however, when you started to turn back around to get back on your stomach, soft words stopped you in your tracks.
“What would you have me do?” Aerion asks, a blush on his cheeks as he looks anywhere but your face.
“Perhaps we could go slower,” you answer, edging closer to him, “work our way to your previous pace?” You ask, now close enough for his hard cock to poke wetly at your stomach.
Aerion looks down at where it touches your skin before looking back up, “very well,” he answers quietly.
You raise a hand to his face slowly, “may I kiss you?” You whisper, cupping his cheek. You trace your fingers along the blush, watching as the shade grows darker.
Aerion’s eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth, “you may,” he answers.
You begin with a soft brush of your lips, but soon, Aerion’s hands rise to your face and turns the kiss sloppy.
You force yourself away from the kiss, your cock twitching when Aerion’s eyes open and he fixes you with a confused expression, obviously not done and wanting more. “Have you done this before?” You questioned softly.
Aerion’s face hardens before he inches further back, “of course I have!”
“With a man?” You clarify.
“No,” Aerion responds, his chin jutting out.
“I liked to be kissed in the same way the maidens you have laid with do,” you said with a smile, laying a hand on his arm.
Aerion smirks at that and turns fully towards you. A runs a hand down your body before wrapping his fingers around the base of your cock, “you are no maiden,” he says softly, giving your hardening cock a slow stroke.
“You do not have to treat me differently because I am not,” you respond, moving into Aerion’s grip. You duck away when Aerion tries to get your lips together again, “you needn’t be so rough,” you whisper against his mouth teasingly.
The next kiss is much better and leaves you gasping on its end.
“You have truly never done this before?” You asked, guiding Aerion with your hands around his hips to the pile of pillows at the top of the bed.
“I told you already,” Aerion responds, pulling you down by the nape into another kiss.
“Let me take care of you, my prince,” you said after pulling away from the kiss. You shifted back to feel Aerion’s cock grind against the cleft of your ass, Aerion’s hands moving to your ass cheeks to spread you open so it lay against your hole.
Aerion looks up at you and his mouth opens like he’s about to speak, but instead, he nods and leans up for another.
You feel Aerion’s tongue in your mouth as you reach behind your body and steady his cock. The kiss breaks when you sink down his cock, but you stay close, breathing in each other’s air.
You feel Aerion’s hands roam your lower back as you adjust once more to his cock. It feels deeper than earlier, but still not stimulating your prostate like you wanted. But that was something that you could work on.
Your hands find Aerion’s toned chest, fingers digging into his pecs as you push yourself up. You lift yourself slowly from his cock until only the head remains, and then you let gravity do the rest.
Aerion’s hands settle loosely around your hips, a look of anticipation on his face. Waiting for your next move.
You shift around on his lap, trying to find that spot. When you feel Aerion’s cock finally brush that spot, you rise up once more.
You fall back down with a soft moan, Aerion’s hands tightening around your hips.
“There?” He asks breathlessly.
“There,” you respond, letting out another moan. The next time you move back up, Aerion pulls you back down, “right there!” You all but yell
Aerion responds enthusiastically, eyes moving from your face to watch your body move. His hands are like an anchor around your hips, holding you in place as he fucks back up every time you raise your hips.
He shifts closer as he moves, bringing his back off the bed to get close enough to kiss you. You moan into his mouth, feeling your edge approaching as Aerion’s tongue maps out the plane of your mouth.
Aerion knocks the hand you try to wrap around your cock away, his lips dragging along your jaw. “Let me take care of you,” he whispers into your ear, stroking his hand along your cock in time with his thrusts.
You cup Aerion’s face and turn his head to meet your eye, “my good lad,” you whisper, “making me feel so good.”
Aerion’s eyes widen before his hands move to bring your bodies flush together. He comes with a loud moan, his cock throbbing deep within you. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, like he’s afraid to show himself as vulnerable.
You come seconds later from the friction of your cock against Aerion’s abs, stars exploding behind your eyes.
Coming down from your orgasm, you bring a hand to the back of Aerion’s hand to run your fingers through his white hair. He falls deeper into your arms as his breathing begins to calm.
Aerion pulls away when his cock slips free, moving away just enough to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “Have I satisfied you now?” He questions.
You smile softly at him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in.
D: Dirty Talk and Yearning- Mark Grayson and Thragg (but Thragg is separate)
3.4k words
I'm gonna be honest, this doesn't really have any dirty talk, but it has yearning.
Heavy warning for dubious consent. The reader is put into a political marriage with Thragg, but is already in a relationship with Mark. Thragg then forces Mark and the reader to have sex while he watches.
Other warning for virgin reader and Mark, bottom male reader felching, and overstimulation (Thragg makes the reader pass out).
Not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes, I was writing this at work lol.
Growing up, you had spent many summers in the kingdom of Vultrum during the alliance of your kingdom with theirs. However, you and you were sure most of the people could tell that the alliance was one out of domination and fear.
When news broke that Viltrum’s ruler, Lord Argall, was assassinated, your kingdom attempted to close itself off, hoping that the kingdom’s domination over the land it governed would come to an end.
You first heard the news from Mark Grayson, a knight of Vultrum’s military. Growing up, you had always had small little fantasies shared between the two of you of plans to leave and explore the world.
As you grew older and into adulthood, those fantasies became more and more realistic each passing year. It terrified a small part of you to think about leaving the world you had spent your entire life in and leaving the outside world, but Mark was always the one who thought to guide your mind away from that darkness.
A nervous kiss shared as young adults had changed the entire trajectory of your relationship. You had always had thoughts before you convinced yourself otherwise, but now, you were saving for a future with Mark.
You had never discussed your plans in the letters you exchanged between each other, both fearful of how traceable they were. Instead, you saved talks for that during the moments you got to spend together in person.
That had all changed after Lord Argall’s assassination. In the second letter you had received from Mark, he ended it unlike any of the previous: the time is now.
Unbeknownst to you, what Mark had ended his letter with was already in preparation by an outside force closer than you would expect.
Thragg was a man you had met years ago in passing, but still managed to make you nervous, even by the mere mention of his name. He was a cold and calculating man, but what made you so apprehensive of the man was how calm he managed to be earlier.
Even now, as he kneeled in your father’s throne room. You had never thought you’d see a day when you’d see a Viltrumite on his knees. It almost made you feel better when what came out of Thragg’s mouth was threats, not to grovel for help.
“We are in a weakened state,” he looked up for the first time after he walked in earlier with his eyes trained to the floor, “but we can still destroy you,” he said, looking from your father to your mother and then back again.
“Did you come here to threaten us?” Your father asked, holding a hand up to calm the guardsmen through the room to remove their hands from their weapons.
Thragg looked down once more, “no, my king,” he bit out, like the words pained him to say, “I am here to ask for your son’s hand in marriage,” he said, looking up and setting his gaze on you.
As gasps and murmurs erupted around the room, your father threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. “I’m glad you can still manage humor in times of such hardship,” he said, holding up a hand to quiet the room.
“Humor is not my intention,” Thragg responded, looking at your father. You let out a sigh of relief once his eyes were off you. “We cannot afford to show weakness during this time. This marriage alliance will show that.”
“I have heard rumors of a civil war on the horizon in your kingdom, and you want my son to be in the middle of that?” Your father asked.
“Those who spoke of that have been,” Thragg paused, “purged,” he spits, “from my kingdom.” He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “no harm would come to your son,” he declares earnestly,” his eyes looking once more in your direction, “and if, after we’ve rebuilt, our marriage may end peacefully.”
“How much time do you anticipate this will take?” your mother asked, sitting beside your father in a matching throne.
“You’re really considering this?” You leaned down to whisper from your spot behind them.
“No longer than five years,” Thragg responded.
His words were like an unwritten contract because weeks later, you had arrived in Viltrum. Like how everything recently in your life felt out of your control, your wedding date was set without your input. But now that you thought about it, finally having a moment alone to yourself in what now was your bedroom, it was probably thought of before Thragg even arrived at your old kingdom.
Still, weeks from that time, you were unsure whether to be angry at your parents or not. You knew that ruling a kingdom meant making tough choices, but it was still hard to face the fact you wouldn’t be going home for five years.
It scared you even more to think about how, in those five years, your time here could become permanent.
Lost in thought and on the brink of freaking out, your racing mind is interrupted by your door opening.
You stand at the edge of the bed, practically falling into Mark’s arms when he gets close enough.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he breathed, his arms wrapped securely around you.
“Me neither,” you whisper. You pressed your face into his neck, feeling as if, for the first time in weeks, you could finally breathe.
Mark pulled away, his armor cool as it brushed your skin when he cupped your jaw, “I can’t believe you're here,” he repeated before he leaned in to brush his lips against yours.
“The thought of Thragg being able to kiss you–”
You interrupted Mark with another kiss, “let’s not,” you let out a heavy sigh, “talk about that.”
The time you do actually talk about it is days after the wedding, long after the visitors from your home kingdom had left.
“We’ll see you soon,” your mother and father had said, sounding a lot like they were still convincing themselves.
“What was it like?” Mark whispered, his hand trailing up and down your back. You were in a secluded, grassy area of the kingdom, one that Mark had told you he spent time writing his letters to you in.
You craned your neck to look at him, your ear dragging along the soft white suit he wore under his armor, “what was what like?”
Mark grimaced, “kissing him.”
“Rough,” you answered. It had been quick and chaste. You weren’t even really sure you could count it as a kiss with how precise and measured it was. “The mustache made it weird,” you said, trying to make Mark smile.
“So I shouldn’t grow mine?” He questioned, trying to keep a straight face, but broke out into a grin when you laughed. He brought a hand to his face and rubbed the smooth, hairless skin above his upper lip, “I’m not quite there yet.”
“Is it required in your service?” You asked, thinking back to all of the men you’ve seen in the kingdom, and how most of them have had mustaches.
“It’s our culture,” Mark answered.
“Will I have to grow one and become fully assimilated?” You asked.
Mark laughed softly. “I don’t think so.” he let out a sigh before his arm tightened around your body. “You’d probably have to ask him,” he said.
You leaned up against Mark’s embrace until it loosened and moved forward to kiss the frown from his face.
“I’ll get better,” Mark said, a fire behind his eyes, “I’ll get stronger. Then, we can leave this all behind,” he said, moving closer into another kiss.
You didn’t see Mark again for a few days and tried your best not to be worried, or at least let it show on your face.
However, Thragg could see right through it all. You could tell from the way he looked at you.
“I wish to speak with you in my chambers tonight,” he said as he exited the large dining room in the fortress you still got lost in. He leaned down and spoke the words right in your ear, one of his hands pressed to your shoulder.
You nodded stiffly, “see you then,” you responded as you set your utensils down, suddenly not feeling hungry.
Thragg leaned away and stood tall, “enjoy your dinner,” he said, the hand from your shoulder moving to your nape and giving it a light squeeze.
You tried to smile at him, but all it felt like was a grimace. Not even knowing that he had already walked away, one of the cooks had walked in to clear Thragg’s place at the table.
“Was it not good?” The cook asked.
You quickly wiped away the look from your face with a napkin, “it was great,” you answered, “I’m still trying to get used to how filling the food is here,” you finished, trying to smile once more, and feeling much more successful.
Only a door separated the two rooms, but when you met him later that night, it was your first time in Thragg’s bedroom.
It looked similar to yours in the same way that all of the rooms did: white, grey, and sterile. Though there were pops of red in the room that matched the color of the outfit you saw him wear nearly daily.
Sitting on top of the red blanket that covered Thragg’s large bed was Mark, looking so tensed up he was about to crack like a stone.
“Stay there,” Thragg commanded, your blood running cold. From his place sitting in a red chair close to the bed, he turned to look at Mark, “Mark, when I went to his kingdom, I told the king and queen that any talk of incivility had been purged from our kingdom. Would you agree with that?”
“Yes, grand regent,” Mark responded quietly, eyes glued to the bed.
“So why is it that one of my knights is speaking about leaving the kingdom?” He asked, “with my husband?”
“Five years is a long time,” Mark responded, “we’ve had these plans for years.”
Thragg shot up from his chair, “it only took a day for Emperor Argall to die!” He yelled, making you and Mark flinch. Thragg let out a heavy sigh before he continued, “that won’t do, Mark.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Mark pleaded.
Thragg let out another sigh, “take your clothes off.”
You and Mark exchanged a look, “what?” You croaked.
“You’re not leaving,” Thragg said as he stepped closer to you, “Do I have to rip them off?”
With your heart hammering in your chest, you slowly began pulling your clothes off under Mark and Thragg’s gaze.
“Mark,” Thragg said after moments of Mark just sitting there, watching. He held out a hand, carefully folding your clothing and placing it on a desk in front of his window.
You broke the uncomfortable silence first: “what now?” You whispered as you tried to cover yourself.
“Sit,” Thragg commanded.
You longed to reach out to Mark and try what you could to comfort him, but you sat locked in place, waiting for Thragg to continue.
“You’re not leaving,” Thragg repeated as he sat back down in the chair, “but I will allow you to be together under my eye.”
“I don’t understand,” you said. Mark had slowly shifted closer, one of his hands finding yours to clutch.
Thragg lets out a soft chuckle, “I suppose this would be confusing with how many words there are for it across all kingdoms and cultures.”
A cold chill runs through your body as your eyes widen. Mark’s hand in yours tightens to the point it nearly hurts, but he lets go to turn you towards him.
“Just pretend like he isn’t there,” Mark whispers softly, his breath fanning out to hit your face.
You try to turn to look at Thragg’s, but Mark’s hand comes up to stop you and turn you back. Your head jerks with a stiff nod, and Mark’s hands move to cup your cheeks to pull you in.
Mark kisses you until your brain fogs out, only remembering that you’re with company when Thragg tosses a bottle of lube onto the bed near your body.
“You might need this,” he murmured, like he was trying to not interrupt the two of you, “but with how wet you both are, you might not,” he says to himself, causing you to look down.
Your hard cocks rub against each other on each movement, smearing precome along your skin. You try to bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sensation, but Mark whines softly in protest.
“Let me hear,” he whispers, grinding his hips into yours.
You wrapped your arms around Mark’s waist to get more of that delicious friction. Even when it missed, your cock rubbed against Mark’s hard abs, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.
Mark’s hands moved to your hips, rocking with your movements. You realized only then how close you were, only taking a few more jerks of your hips to come. Mark joined over the edge soon thereafter, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he came.
“Is it always that quick?” Thragg questioned, breaking the silence, sounding as if he was seconds away from laughing.
Mark hesitated before he answered, “we’ve never,” he trails off.
“Together?” Thragg questioned, sounding surprised, “or at all?”
“Both,” Mark answered tersely, his hands tightening around your body possessively.
“Keep going,” Thragg commanded, his voice gravelly.
You lay back on Thragg’s bed with a soft grunt, Mark kneeling in the space between your legs. He looked apprehensive, not that you could blame him. You reached a hand toward his, covering his hand that held the lube in a tight grip.
You pressed kisses to his lips, then to his face until you felt his hand starting to relax. “I can–” you began to say, but Mark interrupted, pressing his lips to yours.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, popping the cap.
Smiling softly at him, you pressed one last kiss to his lips before you lay back onto the bed. You itched to look over at Thragg, noticing he had gone quiet.
You brought your knees up, giving Mark ample room to work a finger inside. He didn’t for a while, instead tracing it around the rim of your hole, but you couldn’t tell if it was to tease or due to the nerves of being watched.
You gasped when Mark pressed it inside, slowly until it was deep inside. He moved closer until he could lean in close.
Instead of kissing you, Mark leaned down, his forehead pressed to yours. He breathed in your gasps as a second finger joined the first, your cock slowly growing hard again.
You’ve been trying to keep quiet and only let Mark hear your noises, like they were meant for his ears only, but when his fingers pressed into your prostate, the noise you let out was out of your control.
“Fuck,” Mark whispered, his fingers pulling free before he thrust them slowly back inside. “You like that?”
You nodded, “more,” you said quietly, your lips brushing against Mark’s.
You groaned at the feel of a third finger in your hole, your cock hard against your stomach as his fingers brushed your prostate.
You whimpered when Mark pulled his fingers free, only to be replaced with the blunt head of his cock.
Mark adjusted your right leg to lift it on his broad shoulder, the other he let dangle, held up with his forearm. He ran a hand momentarily down your sweaty thigh before his hands moved to your hips.
You moaned softly as Mark thrust slowly inside, until he bottomed out and his hips pressed to your ass.
Mark panted in front of you, sweat dripping down his temple. He ran his hands slowly up your body, pulling your attention onto his face.
You nodded at Mark, letting him know that you were ready for anything he gave you.
Mark’s hand moved back to your hips, gripping your body tightly as he pulled all the way out. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your hole gaping as you clenched around nothing. Mark’s cock punched a moan from your chest, the head brushing against your prostate as Mark’s bottomed out once more.
Mark leaned down as his pace increased, his body curled protectively over you like he was trying to shield you from Thragg’s gaze. Not that you thought you’d last much longer, already feeling another orgasm building.
You wrapped a hand around your slick cock, stroking in time to the pace of Mark’s hips.
You were once quiet, but now the slap of your skin coming together echoed throughout the room, louder than the moans that fell from your lips. Your back arched off the bed, clenching down on Mark’s cock as his thrusts turned disjointed.
Mark came as your hole clenched around his cock, milking him dry as he thrust deep and stayed there.
You wrapped your hands around Mark’s shoulders, pulling him down to your chest as his cock throbbed deep inside. He panted against your chest as his cock began to soften, his cum leaking from around it.
You grunted softly when his soft cock finally slipped free, Mark pressing a soft kiss to your skin in apology.
It startled you when Thragg made his presence known once again, his footfalls heavy as he went to his desk.
“Time to go, Mark,” Thragg said, picking Mark’s clothing up.
Mark pulled away, looking as if he wanted to protest, but stopped in his tracks when Thragg turned around and noticed the bulge between his legs.
Thragg laid his clothing out on an empty spot on the bed before he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching and waiting for Mark to disobey.
Mark got dressed and reluctantly left, but not before he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips.
Thragg chuckled softly at the display, looking otherwise unbothered, if not amused.
“You’re a mess,” he said softly as he ran a hand across his bulge. He stepped to the edge of the bed and ran a hand softly down the skin he could reach, “what am I going to do with you?”
His words made you nervous, but you were too fucked out to put up a fight as he rolled you onto your stomach.
The bed shifted until Thragg’s weight, his hands moving to your ass cheeks to spread you open. He tsk’d softly as he watched Mark’s spend drip from your hole, his hands kneading the globes of your ass.
You groaned at the pain, trying to shift away, but Thragg moved with you.
Your mouth fell open with a gasp as the broad swipe Thragg’s tongue swiped across your hole. You sobbed at the next swipe, overstimulation bearing its ugly head when Thragg stabbed the tip of his tongue inside.
“Please,” you begged when Thragg rolled you over. Your eyes slipped shut when Thragg got off the bed, thinking he was actually going to listen to you, but soon the bed dipped once more under his weight.
You opened your eyes at the feel of Thragg’s hand on your face, “you could topple this entire kingdom down,” Thragg murmured, running his fingers softly down your cheek, “and you don’t even know it.”
The fat head of his cock pressed to your hole, your cock twitching treacherously. Your body was pliant for Thragg, legs wrapping loosely around his hips.
He leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth, softer than the one on your wedding day, making your stomach clench.
“My husband,” Thragg whispered in your ear, giving no warning as he thrust his cock inside.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream before your eyes rolled back. You blacked out seconds later, the sound of Thragg’s deep voice ringing through your mind before unconsciousness took you.
You could tell what Ryland wanted, even when he protested, “we’re barely through the door,” he whispered, like he was afraid of being caught in your own house.
You looked up at Ryland from on your knees, “you were feeling me up on the whole drive home,” you said as you unzipped his fly slowly.
“Feeling you up?” Ryland sputtered, “my hand was on your knee!”
You let out a soft laugh, “that’s not what I felt,” you said as you worked open his belt.
Ryland huffed, “can we at least go to the bed or couch?” he whined. “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”
You let out another laugh, “you say that like you’re as old as the solar system you teach about,” you replied.
“I feel like it! Especially after being on my feet all day,” He grumbled.
“We’ll have to build your stamina,” you said, sending Ryland a wink before you pulled his hard cock out.
You must’ve jinxed it. You had said it as a joke, of course, but it was like Ryland was getting payback when he came.
You didn’t know how long it had been, the only thing you knew was the ropes of cum hitting your face.
You gasped when it started, and quickly closed your eyes to avoid the burn.
“Holy–” Ryland gasps, “I’m so–” he tried speaking once more, but his words were interrupted by a moan.
Ryland was sorry, but you were trying your damndest to not press the heel of your palm to your cock, trapped in your pants.
You felt Ryland leave moments later with a gust of air, and the faint sound of his belt buckle jingling as he moved.
After what felt like minutes of being alone, you’re tempted to just wipe it away with the back of your hand, but you’re stopped upon hearing the sound of a camera shutter.
“Fu–”
“What was that?” You asked.
“Nothing!” Ryland answered, far too quickly to indeed be nothing.
“Did you just–” a warm cloth swiped across your face, interrupting your words, “stop that!” You hissed after another pass. “Did you just take a photo?”
From how red Ryland’s face was, it seemed like he, in fact, did.
“I didn’t know how,” he paused, trying to find the words, seemingly embarrassed, “into that I now know I am,” he whispered.
“Oh,” you responded softly, your cock throbbing in your slacks, “do you knees still hurt?” You asked as you looked him over as he stood there, his pants still open.
“No,” Ryland responded, his brows downturned in confusion.
“Let’s go to bed,” you nodded towards your bedroom.
Ryland gave a slow nod, like his post-orgasm brain was still trying to catch up, “bedroom,” he said, turning in the direction. “Let’s go do that,” he said as he walked away, leaving you in the entryway.
You laughed to yourself as you pushed yourself off the floor, “it’s okay,” you said when Ryland jogged back, “I’ve got it.”
“Sorry,” Ryland said sheepishly, “I can carry you,” he said, almost sounding like a question and not a statement.
2.5k words. 2.5k isn't that long, but I'm trying to keep these relatively short, and I'm already struggling lol.
Warning for angst with a happy ending, breeding kink, a touch of irrational jealousy, and possessive behavior.
The day Princess Izumi was born was one of the most joyous days you had seen since the Hundred Year War ended. Though it was a day of great excitement, it was still shrouded in secrecy.
You never had outright asked Zuko who Izumi’s mother was, and you were always too busy as his retainer to do any sleuthing of your own. Rumors had swirled around longer than you could keep up with, always taking each and every one that you heard with a grain of salt.
You had your own guesses and theories, but really, you were just happy to see Zuko happy.
Weeks later, when the palace had finally begun to calm after Izumi’s arrival, Zuko made a familiar move.
You had worried at first when you turned around to find Zuko standing so close, but quickly decided to pay no mind to it. “Am I extinguishing too many candles?” You asked, trying to deflect the concern that you felt still lingered with a tight laugh. You knew how Zuko liked reading official documents before bed, even if it irritated you.
“Zuko?” You had asked after finding him half asleep at the desk in his chambers, “why are you still awake?” You asked, helping him up from his chair.
“I wanted a bedtime story,” he answered tiredly.
“You should have told me!” You replied, trying and failing to keep your anger in check, “instead, you are sitting here putting an ache in your back,” you said, getting an arm around his shoulders.
Zuko lets out a laugh, “a small ache has never held me back before,” he said, letting himself be led to bed.
“You snapped at me when I tried to help you put in your royal headpiece,” you grumbled under your breath as you turned down the cover.
“I said I was sorry!” Zuko replied with a laugh, “besides, you were yanking my hair.”
You looked down at your hands after pulling the covers up after Zuko had gotten in, “I suppose,” you let out a soft sigh, “I could be more careful.”
Zuko pulled one of his hands from under the blanket, “I forgive you,” he said, gripping your hand. You both let out a laugh after you rolled your eyes, “now,” he began, a smile lighting up his face, “I was promised a bedtime story.”
“Zuko?” You questioned as the man stepped closer, “are you feeling–”
Your question was cut short as Zuko manhandled you onto his bed, his legs moving into the space between yours, which hung off the edge.
It had felt like years since Zuko had last kissed you. It wasn’t like you were jealous, you knew Zuko needed an heir, and knew that you couldn’t give him one. But that didn’t stop him from trying.
You had just thought of it as a form of stress relief, but Zuko seemingly had a different idea.
“One isn’t enough,” Zuko breathed after he pulled away from the kiss, warm fingers sneaking under your clothing.
“Zuko,” you breathed, “I can’t,” you whispered, even as you craned your neck as his lips trailed down your skin. You could feel excitement, just as much as you felt apprehension, knowing exactly how long it’s been since you laid with Zuko.
He had been rough the last time, obviously frustrated that it wasn’t… taking. You could feel the stares from other members in the council room when you arrived the next day, trying your best to hide the marks Zuko left with your collar. It made you wonder if you could find a water bender to heal the bruises away.
“I’ll take my time,” Zuko replied, before he stepped away to grab that familiar container. You weren’t jealous, you told yourself as you tried to look into the container to see if there was less in there. To see if Zuko shared what he used on you with Izumi’s mother.
Upon his return, Zuko swooped down into another kiss as he wrestled your clothing off, throwing the garments away like they personally offended him.
“You’ll be with my child,” Zuko declared, “tonight.” He yanked at his robes, your hands, on instinct, moved to help.
“Let me,” you said, “you’ll burn another pair.”
Zuko huffed out a laugh, his golden eyes watched your hands move without thought, “you are excellent with your hands,” he observed softly.
You looked up, eyes locked with Zuko’s golden ones, “that is because I am your retainer, my lord,” you whispered. Your hands hovered between your bodies when Zuko’s robe was out of the way, fingers just shy of his waistband.
You looked away and moved up the bed. A place you’ve cleaned and made up countless times, but have not rested upon in months.
Zuko crawled slowly after you, like a dragon hunting its prey. Only for a moment were you closed off, but then, at the feel of Zuko’s warm fingers on your ankles, your legs were spreading for him.
Two fingers closed around your chin to turn your head up so he could look you in the eye, they then moved to cup your cheek, making it so you couldn’t turn away.
“You think you’re just a royal retainer to me?” He asked, not even giving you a chance to answer as he claimed your mouth in a soft kiss, “you are the most beautiful man I know,” he said against your mouth.
“Zuko,” you said as you turned your head as much as you could out of the next kiss he tried to initiate. You struggled in holding back a shiver when Zuko’s lips trailed across your jaw, “it’s not poss–”
You were interrupted by Zuko’s lips against yours, and when you tried to finish your sentence, Zuko only saw that as an invitation to deepen the kiss.
“Much crazier things have happened,” Zuko said with a laugh as he pulled away and stood up from the bed. Even if you had just tried to talk him out of it, you still missed his warmth. “I took down the Fire Lord and ascended the throne as a teenager,” he said as he removed his crown.
Back in its protective casing, your mind went back to one of the many times he left it on. In fact, nearly all of his clothing had stayed on, but was instead opened enough to get his hard cock out. You had ridden him that day, right there on his throne, Zuko muttering sweet nothings in your ear about how this time it would take.
“Perhaps you are right,” you said once it was over, Zuko cock still softening inside you.
“Perhaps you are right,” you repeated, your cock throbbing at the thought of the smile on Zuko’s face that day and the feel of his hand on your stomach.
It startled you when a flash of orange lit up your vision, the room left much brighter, but once you realized what it was, all you felt was annoyance.
“I just put those out,” you said, hoping Zuko could see your eye roll even with his back turned. You couldn’t help but reach a hand between your legs to wrap your fingers around your cock as you watched Zuko get the rest of his clothing off.
“I needed to see you better,” Zuko replied.
Need. You had to bite your lip to hold back the sound you wanted to let out.
“You must fold those,” you said, after you watched Zuko toss them carelessly. You and everyone else in the palace made sure Zuko’s room was spotless, but that didn’t mean you wanted to let his clothing end up on the floor, even if there was no dust or debris to stain them.
Zuko whipped around in all of his naked glory, his hair a dark veil that swooshed with the movement, “I must?” He questioned as he stepped up to the bed, “I must?” He repeated, grabbing your ankles when close enough.
You yelped when he yanked you down the bed, Zuko’s hands moving to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, “that isn’t what I meant.”
“Oh?” Zuko purred, “I think it’s exactly what you meant,” he said before he moved down to press his lips to yours.
“I’m sorry,” you tried once more. You didn’t actually think Zuko was angry, if the hard cock poking you was anything to go off of, but it never hurt to apologize.
“Enough of that,” Zuko commanded, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your mouth, “you challenge me,” he said, making his way down to nip at the skin of your neck, “make me a better man,” he whispered into your ear.
“All I said was to fold your clothes,” you replied, feeling confused.
“Must I repeat myself?” Zuko questioned, his forehead pressed to yours.
You gasped when a wet finger traced the edge of your hole– when had he?
“Been a while,” Zuko said, an edge of sadness to his words, “has anyone?” He trailed off.
“What?” You questioned incredulously, “my lord,” you gasped, “there’s been no one.”
Zuko pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue moving past your lips as his finger pressed inside, “good,” he whispered, “you’re mine.”
Barely able to adjust to the first, a second joined, “Zuko,” you whined, the name sounding foreign on your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you said his name, instead choosing to use the common honorifics said around the palace.
Devastation wasn’t the right word. It was only realistic that Zuko would want an heir. You could remember that night easily. Rejection. That was it.
“Am I to stay with you tonight, Lord Zuko?” You had asked.
“No,” Zuko answered, not looking up from the scroll he was reading, “your services, in that regard, are no longer necessary.”
“Ah,” was all you could muster while you felt as if a bucket of cold water from the Northern Water Tribe had been poured on top of you, “very well, Zu– my lord.”
That caused Zuko to look up, but you were already out the door, not wanting to see the look on his face.
What burn you felt from Zuko’s eager fingers was soon overtaken by pleasure. Even after all this time, Zuko was still able to expertly find your prostate. He pulled you into a wet kiss, swallowing your moans as he spread his fingers, preparing you for his leaking cock smearing precum against your thigh.
You pushed at Zuko’s chest, sucking in air through your nose as you tried to breathe, the pleasure overwhelming you.
“Breathe,” Zuko commanded softly, his voice sounded far away, like it was in the back of your mind. “Breathed,” he tried again.
Upon taking a deep breath in, you felt like you were back in your body, a slow, steady hum of pleasure still thrumming through your veins. Lifting your head up felt like it took all the effort in the world, and when you did, all you could see was the lack of space between you and Zuko’s body.
You gave an experimental clench down and groaned when you felt Zuko’s cock deep within you. “Oh,” you mumbled, and ran a hand down your chest, a mess of come and sweat on your fingers when you pulled away.
Your heart rattled in your chest when Zuko reached out and wrapped a hand around your wrist. You gasped when he guided your hand to his mouth, his wet, warm tongue poking past his lips. You felt your cock give a valiant twitch when your fingers were sucked into the wet heat of Zuko’s mouth, the man groaning around the digits.
Letting gravity do the work once he let go, your fingers fell free from Zuko’s lips with a slick noise, his hands finding purchase on your hips, “back with me?” He asked, running his hands soothingly up and down your sides.
“Yeah,” you croaked, “I don’t know what that was,” you said, looking down at your body. You looked back up at Zuko, noticing a glint of concern in his eyes. “It was,” you clenched down on Zuko’s cock, “intense.”
Zuko moaned, his hips twitching forward, even if he had barely anywhere to go. He moved his hands to your thighs, running his fingers across the skin until you relaxed. He lifted one leg to his shoulder, his lips brushing the thin skin of your ankle. Next, the other, and then, Zuko nearly had you bent in half.
Zuko’s knees rested on either side of your body, finding purchase in the covers. He gripped your hips in a tight hold, keeping you in place as he started fucking in and out. In only a few thrusts, your cock was fully hard once more, leaking in the space between your bodies.
You grabbed at Zuko’s broad shoulders, burying your face into the sweaty crook of his neck. It did little to muffle the sounds you let out, but it seemed as if Zuko didn’t mind, his pace doubling. The entire palace was bound to know what you were up to.
Your second release of the night built higher and higher on each thrust, to the point that it only took a few slick pulls of your fingers around your cock to come.
You opened your eyes slowly, not even realizing you had closed them. It took a few seconds to register that Zuko was speaking to you, your brain catching up moments later.
“Do you realize how you look?” He asked, “stuffed full of my cock?” Zuko’s cock throbbed wildly inside, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
He came with a loud moan, ending with one final thrust that left his cock deep. It overwhelmed you, like a dam of emotions bursting after months of building. “Zuko,” you breathed, not even knowing what you were asking for as tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.
“Rest now,” Zuko said, maneuvering your body until he had you in his arms. “We have all night,” he whispered into your ear, his fingers spread across your stomach.
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No smut in this one (ironic way to start off this series, I know), but it's filled with a lot of fluff to make up for it.
“Quit squirming,” you say, trying your best to wipe Ryland’s chest down.
“It’s,” Ryland lets out a gasp when the wet cloth passes over his nipple. The mess you made wasn’t that high up on his chest, but you couldn’t help yourself, “cold!”
“It’s room temperature,” you correct.
“Where’s your thermometer?” He grumbles out, his squirming coming to an end as you finish up.
“Don’t have one,” you answer absentmindedly, trying to not gasp when you wipe the cloth along your sensitive cock. Maybe Ryland was right.
You look up as you move the cloth higher up your body, trying not to laugh when you see that Ryland’s mouth is hanging open in bewilderment.
“I do have one,” you clarify with an eye roll, “it’s just buried in a drawer somewhere,” you answer before rolling off the bed to head to the bathroom. You wring out the washcloth under the faucet, watching the evidence of your activities circle the drain.
On your return, Ryland is already under the covers, his glasses perched upon his nose. He glances up from his book before moving an arm out to turn down your side of the bed.
“You look comfortable,” you observe.
“Could be even better,” Ryland murmurs in response, his fingers brushing your thigh.
“Okay okay,” you laugh, swatting at hands when he tries to yank you into the bed.
His book seemingly forgotten, Ryland leans up to press a kiss to your lips once you’re under the covers, “I thought you were reading,” you whisper against his mouth.
He sends you a soft smile in response before moving his glasses down under his chin in that way that always pisses you off, “I thought of something better to do.”
You let yourself be kissed before pulling away to carefully take his glasses off, “you’re going to break these,” you huff, holding them up as you wait for Ryland to place them on the nightstand. “Ah ah ah,” you scold when Ryland tries to steal another kiss.
This time, it’s Ryland that lets out a huff as he grabs the glasses and tosses them onto the table, making you laugh, even if it also has you wincing internally. He returns in a flash, swallowing the sound when he pulls you back in.
He pulls away to pepper kisses along your face, “happy now?” He questions between pecks.
“I could do without the throwing–”
Ryland pulls away with a scoff, “I didn’t throw them!” He gripes, one of his hands resting on your chest.
“There was an echo.”
“There was not,” Ryland lets out a laugh that rings throughout the bedroom, “there was not an echo,” he repeats through laughter.
“Yeah, I think,” you bring a hand to your ear, “my ears are still ringing?” You question feigning confusion.
That gets a louder laugh from Ryland before he’s falling onto your chest, “you little,” he begins, making you wonder what minced oath he’s about to come up with. Instead, he gets his strong arms around you, his fingers finding your ribs.
You try to move away, but Ryland doesn’t let you, “Ryland!”
“Say I didn’t throw them,” he commands.
“You’re being childish,” you respond with a laugh.
For a second, you’re able to get your hands free, but before you can push them against Ryland’s shoulders, he’s got both of your hands held by your wrists above your head. “Say I didn’t throw them,” he repeats, his knees bracketing your hips, caging you in.
Arousal runs through you at the reminder of just how physically strong Ryland is, “you didn’t throw them,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Ryland leans down moments later to press his lips to yours, his hand loosening around your wrists. He lets out a hum of satisfaction with his tongue meets yours, the kiss slow and dirty.
Your arms move to wrap around Ryland’s broad shoulders, pulling him down until his chest meets yours.
Ryland pulls away from the kiss with a sigh, his head moving to rest on your shoulder. Your hand is immediately tangling through his hair, smoothing away the mess of sex and sweat.
“Love you,” Ryland murmurs, his lips dragging across your skin.
“Love you more,” you respond easily, your eyes slipping shut.
You feel Ryland’s smile against your skin before there's a soft scrape of teeth on your neck, “no,” he responds, dragging the word out. He kisses his way up your neck to pull you into a lazy kiss.
You fight to get your eyes back open, Ryland’s weight shifting as he rolls off you to lay down onto the pillow.
“Did I wear you out?” He questions.
“I’m–” you start, only to be interrupted with Ryland’s yawn, “awake.”
Ryland looks at you with half lidded eyes before moving closer, his head coming to rest on your pillow.
“You’ve got your own,” you grumble, trying to sound mad, but only feeling affection.
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.
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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.
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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 :)
