Salmon Pink (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salmon_pink) wrote2012-07-25 10:50 pm
salmon_pink) wrote2012-07-25 10:50 pm
(Marvel) Stretched Expectations
Title: Stretched Expectations
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Reed/Johnny
Rating: NC-17
Words: 400
Notes: Bondage. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slashthedrabble, prompt "stretch".
Summary: He'll think twice before ever calling Reed 'boring' again.
Johnny has a big mouth. This isn’t exactly news to him or anyone who’s ever met him.
Yeah, his mouth gets him into trouble. A lot.
But he can’t remember what he actually said to get him into this newest mess. Maybe something about Reed being a stick-in-the-mud, or too uptight, or so vanilla it’s actually painful to look at him.
Something like that, only with more colourful language.
He could probably remember it if he weren’t so damn distracted.
Because Reed’s everywhere.
Wrapped all around him, arms circling his chest, pinning Johnny’s arms to his sides so all he can do is uselessly ball his hands into fists. Feet between Johnny’s own, holding his legs kicked apart, even with the way his uniform is bunched around his knees.
Johnny knows a thing or two about heat, but somehow Reed’s breath against his ear is the hottest thing he’s ever felt.
Johnny’s sweating, wriggling in Reed’s grip, trying to rock his hips forward against nothing but air. Trying to rock his hips back, trying to get more of Reed’s fingers inside his ass, trying to get more than the shallow, lazy thrusts Reed is giving him.
“Now, what was it you were saying about me?” Reed murmurs conversationally, right into Johnny’s ear, making him shiver for the feel of that voice buzzing inside his mind.
He wants to answer, even if he has no idea what to say, but all he can do is whine around the fingers of Reed’s other hand, pressed between his lips. Stroking his tongue with that same maddeningly slow pace.
“Well, I guess I haven’t quite made my side of the argument clear enough,” Reed muses, like he’s talking about a damn experiment, and Johnny’s seriously thinking of biting down on those fingers in protest.
And then the ones in his ass, they’re fucking growing, and Johnny’s eyes are wide and he can’t even classify the noise he’s making. Pushing down, pushing up, pushing against his prostate, filling him, and that was definitely a scream, even muffled around the fingers in his mouth.
God, he can feel how much they’re stretching him, and then Reed’s pulling them almost all the way out before thrusting back deep, and Johnny’s wailing, babbling, writhing for it. Feeling the friction of it, and he can’t even remember what Reed’s point was.
But he agrees with it one hundred percent.
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Reed/Johnny
Rating: NC-17
Words: 400
Notes: Bondage. For
slashthedrabble, prompt "stretch".Summary: He'll think twice before ever calling Reed 'boring' again.
Johnny has a big mouth. This isn’t exactly news to him or anyone who’s ever met him.
Yeah, his mouth gets him into trouble. A lot.
But he can’t remember what he actually said to get him into this newest mess. Maybe something about Reed being a stick-in-the-mud, or too uptight, or so vanilla it’s actually painful to look at him.
Something like that, only with more colourful language.
He could probably remember it if he weren’t so damn distracted.
Because Reed’s everywhere.
Wrapped all around him, arms circling his chest, pinning Johnny’s arms to his sides so all he can do is uselessly ball his hands into fists. Feet between Johnny’s own, holding his legs kicked apart, even with the way his uniform is bunched around his knees.
Johnny knows a thing or two about heat, but somehow Reed’s breath against his ear is the hottest thing he’s ever felt.
Johnny’s sweating, wriggling in Reed’s grip, trying to rock his hips forward against nothing but air. Trying to rock his hips back, trying to get more of Reed’s fingers inside his ass, trying to get more than the shallow, lazy thrusts Reed is giving him.
“Now, what was it you were saying about me?” Reed murmurs conversationally, right into Johnny’s ear, making him shiver for the feel of that voice buzzing inside his mind.
He wants to answer, even if he has no idea what to say, but all he can do is whine around the fingers of Reed’s other hand, pressed between his lips. Stroking his tongue with that same maddeningly slow pace.
“Well, I guess I haven’t quite made my side of the argument clear enough,” Reed muses, like he’s talking about a damn experiment, and Johnny’s seriously thinking of biting down on those fingers in protest.
And then the ones in his ass, they’re fucking growing, and Johnny’s eyes are wide and he can’t even classify the noise he’s making. Pushing down, pushing up, pushing against his prostate, filling him, and that was definitely a scream, even muffled around the fingers in his mouth.
God, he can feel how much they’re stretching him, and then Reed’s pulling them almost all the way out before thrusting back deep, and Johnny’s wailing, babbling, writhing for it. Feeling the friction of it, and he can’t even remember what Reed’s point was.
But he agrees with it one hundred percent.