snippets
Hmm...thought about waiting until pron thursday but meh...
Rather explicite so I'm gonna say they're NC-17.
Tell me if I made any mistakes please.
I think we're going to have to call them something else soon cos they certainly aren'y snippets anymore. Damn Catman!
The third fic has some slight non-con
Ripples
The warm water swirled gently around him caressing his scarred skin and tickling the surfaces of his eyes.
Strong hands held his head down, the calloused skin of one hand tight around the dome of his skull and harsh metal digging into his jaw and ear. Both held him close and down.
There was dull pain in his lungs and a vague heaviness of the water pressing against the inside of those organs. With his healing factor it wasn't as if he really needed to breathe but instincts forced him to try whenever he had room to draw in breath. It only added to the liquid sloshing inside of him. He was slowly turning into a giant water bottle. One day some-one would turn him upside down and drink it all down.
He could see it now. "Eau de Deadpool - the new water sensation coming soon to shops near you!"
Giggling didn't help him, although Cable didn't seem to mind it if the sharp and uncontrolled thrust was any indication. Wade smirked slightly (as well as one could in such a situation anyway) and nipped lightly. Nate hissed and tightened both hands around the mercenary's skull and thrust harder.
Deadpool fisted his hands against his friend's heavily muscled thighs and rode out the rather vicious thrusts. He swallowed hastily and pushed himself out of the water to lean against the other man. Turned away to cough up faintly bloody water.
One cool metal hand slid between his legs and he felt his back arch past what should be humanly possible as it slid inside him. He wriggled to feel the sharp edges of the knuckles and bucked as Cable found his "happy happy joy joy spot" (Cable refused to use the name Deadpool had come up with for his prostate) and started to rub, hard, against it. Blood slicked the metal finger, which allowed the mutant to add another without undue harm to his lover.
A warm, human, hand curled around his bobbing dick and matched time with the movements of his other hand.
Wade held on as long as he could but eventually his body stiffened and his vision whited out. He came to later on slumped against the luscious hot/cold, skin/metal of Nate's chest. The former X-man had one hand wrapped around his scarred back and was, quite contentedly, licking the sticky mess of Deadpool's cum off his fingers. He smirked down at the mercenary and leaned back against the wall of the spa.
Deadpool just stared at him for a minute before reaching out to grab his mask and tug it on. He slipped out of the rapidly cooling water and padded, naked but for his mask, across the room, out the door and down the hallway. Reaching his room he picked up a large aluminium spray can. He stared at it for a couple of minutes. He'd been really good; surely Nate would let him...
Nate rubbed a hand through his pale hair and waited for his little mercenary to return to him, not doubting for a second that he would.
He heard the man before he skipped back into the room, still effectively nude which had caused quite a few double takes from the mostly innocent staff in the complex, humming a rather mangled version of the Battlestar Galactica theme song. He raised an eyebrow at the can of WD-40 that the man was snuggling to his chest but just lifted his hand to tug the man back into the tub.
Whatever it took to keep him.
Word Count: 597
Honey
Powerful shoulders, curved gently in repose under him. Smooth cinnamon skin only occasionally marked by pale scars the colour of milk which traced abstract patterns across that well muscled back.
He held up the little bottle and squeezed gently, watched the hot amber liquid slide thickly over skin almost the same colour. Moved with the startled arch and shudder of the man under him. Hmm...maybe he’d heated the honey a little too much. He shrugged pale shoulders and leaned down. Placed one white hand on the darker skin of his mate’s side and leaned down to follow the slowly moving trail of liquid down the heavy archer’s muscles of the other’s arm. Lifted his head to nuzzle golden hair and tilted the bottle again.
Hot, sweet liquid smoothed slowly down the smooth sweep of skin to pool in the dip where back meet hips and he trailed it with happy lips and tongue. Under the cloying sweetness of the honey he could taste the subtle, spicy and exotic taste of his lover’s skin. It tasted like an old spice shop smelled, heady and rich. Salty from sweat.
He purred happily as he lapped at the shallow pool of honey and trailing his fingers through the mess he dipped them lower, searching. Sleek hips bucked up against his own slim ones as he slid a finger into deep inviting warmth, twisting and searching until he found that spot, there, and rode the wild thrashing of the lithe body under his.
Sliding in a second sticky finger he was glad that he’d thought to bring the honey with him today as well as his usual toy. Finishing up preparing the other man he slid a hand along one powerful arm. Stopped when he reached the strange buzzing warmth of the green glowing bands around his wrists which bound them together beneath his chest. He dissolved them. Slid slowly in as the archer braced himself on shaking hands and reached up to remove the emerald gag which had stopped him from making noise.
Smirked at the sudden sounds, harsh breathing interspersed by shaky whimpering little moans. Even without a gag the other was always so quiet. With every slow thrust of his hips a matching little groan slipped out of the other’s lips. Whimpered words. “Please...Love you...so much...please!”
He slid one sweetly sticky hand around the other and started to work him with the movements of his own hips. Licked and kissed at the traces of honey he could reach on his lover’s neck and came hard enough to see stars.
Still shocky from his own orgasm he pulled them over onto their sides and stroked lazily at the silky skin of his archer’s inner thigh before wrapping that hand around one heavy ball and squeezing in time with the short tugs of his other hand. He clung to the other man as he shuddered to completion and turned him around so he could kiss the soft skin of his closed eyelids. Trailed kisses across his cheek and jaw before diving for those perfect pouting lips and devouring them. Curled around him and let sleep take them both.
Early in the morning, before the moon had even left the sky to give way for the sun, a beeper, sitting on the bed side table, started going off. A sleepy hand smacked the table next to it and patted the smooth wood until the little thing was found. It was thrust across the bed towards the other hero.
Some soft sleepy words later and one of the pair was struggling out of bed and into uniform, still groggy from sleep and sex. He leaned down to kiss the other good bye and slipped out of the room.
It was a couple of hours later, after the mission was complete and Star City was safe for another day that Ollie approached his youngest son and asked the question that had been bothering him since the young man had joined him on site two hours ago.
“Connor? Is that honey on your arm?”
No answer other than an extremely vivid blush seemed forthcoming. In fact, for some reason, no matter how many times he asked about it over the next couple of days he never got an answer to his question.
A week later Hal watched Kyle in confusion. There was really no reason to spread your toast with honey with that much of a smug expression was there? He really didn’t want to ask.
Word Count: 753
Pussy Cat
(Catman - Tom Blake, Deadshot - Floyd Lawton)
When he first reached out to try it had been just a vague curiosity and had nearly gotten him killed. The blades pressed hard enough to his stomach to draw a ribbon of blood had put him off for a while.
He wasn't a cat himself but that hadn't stopped the strong draw of curiosity. He'd come back to try again. And he'd had a knife pressed to his throat that time.
It wasn't until about the seventh time he tried that Catman had allowed it. They'd been working together for only a couple of weeks and it was still during the whole Villain war thing that damned Luthor had started. He'd finally been able to get a hand on the other man's ear and scratched. He'd half expected the purr but it had still startled him.
Blake had pulled away looking angry and embarrassed.
It had been another two weeks before he'd gotten the chance again. Two months before the man had settled down enough to lie next to him and just let him scratch at his ears; he had purred so hard that first time that the whole couch had vibrated with it.
Today Catman was kneeling between his legs, one hand braced against Deadshot's thigh as he stitched the short cut over his hipbone. Large hands held the needle with care and he moved with an almost startling gentleness, like a lion with its cubs. Lawton waited, barely flinching at the draw of metal against his flesh until the job was finished and the sterilised pad taped on. Before Blake could move away he reached out and scratched one bare ear.
He gripped the man between his thigh and felt muscles stiffen as the man drew back a little. But when he turned the scratch into something more of a pat the other villain relaxed against him, purr starting to rumble in his chest.
Pulling him closer, up against his chest Lawton stroked along his back and sides, down to his flanks and up again. Catman slowly settled against him only to startle when his stomach brushed up against something hard. As far as he remembered Deadshot had put down his gun harness before sitting on the edge of the lounge to get his wound treated. A glance to the side confirmed this; the harness with all of it's guns lay in a careless pile on the coffee table.
He smirked slightly and pushed up against the other man, hard, tumbling him back on the ratty cushions. He drove the other man down into the lounge, pressing him in with his body and ground his hips into the others.
Deadshot let out a shout, surprise mixing with shocked lust, and tried to push his friend off. But he failed miserably. One big powerful hand snatched up both his wrists before he could even think of struggling further and the other wound itself tight into his hair.
Blake tugged hard on dark hair until the mercenary’s throat was bared, arching back away from him and completely irresistible. He threw a satisfied thanks to who ever was listening for the other man having changed into civvies first and then bit down, right over Deadshot’s jugular, as hard as he could. Grinned at the slow swell of blood and held on.
Lawton twisted under him, trying to throw off the other man; the strange feelings of helplessness and panic beginning to rise. The hand in his hair let go, it disappeared for a second only to join the other at his wrists. With a thin cord. He thrashed and struggled under the stronger man but found himself dragged to his feet, then into a bedroom and thrown onto a neatly made bed. When he tried to get to his feet he was knocked back down with a growl.
Catman smirked widely and knelt on the bed over his fellow villain, pinning him to the bed with his knees. He reached over him and grabbed the knife from under the pillow and ignoring Floyd’s cursing and pleading cut the man’s clothes off his body leaving him completely nude.
He lay himself down over the hit man, pressing down with his whole body and licked at the mess of blood on his throat. The noise he made was somewhere in between a purr and a growl.
He leaned back to quickly strip off his own clothes and stretched out to grab something from the bed side table.
Ignoring the man’s increasingly desperate attempts to alternatively reason with him and threaten him, he picked him up and turned him over, grabbed his hips and dragged him to his knees.
“Really Lawton, calm yourself. You did start this after all.” He purred into the man’s ear, nibbled at the lobe of it before proceeding to fuck it with his tongue. The man in his arms choked back a moan and shivered against his chest. “Wont hurt you. Much.”
He slicked up his finger and slid one in, nice and slow. Damn but the man was tight, hot and tight, as he clenched against the invasion. Deadshot let out a shocky sounding grunt and tried again to pull away.
“No you don’t. Patted the cat Deadshot, now I own you, gotta make you mine. Just relax baby, it’ll be easier.” It was spoken in a dark growl pressed against his sweaty throat and another finger was pressed into his ass with the words.
Deadshot shook in the man’s arms. He liked the man sure, liked the purring more than he should have of but he’d never thought it would go this far. He’d never been with a man before and while Catman wasn’t overly rough he was also relentless in this. He was terrified.
Tom felt the man shake in his arms as he twisted his fingers inside of him and stroked his flank gently. He licked at the droplets of sweat beading on the pale skin of the man’s neck and purred deliberately. Felt Deadshot shudder deliciously at the sound before he added the third finger, worked it hard this time and fast before withdrawing his hand and pushing the man down into the mattress.
Deadshot found himself flinching in terror when the mattress shifted behind him and strong hands spread his cheeks wide. This was it.
Catman smirked, took a deep breath and blew across the sensitive skin. He chuckled as the man jumped under him and leaned down to lick a long stripe up the crack of his arse. Laughed out loud when the man squealed. And when he leant down to thrust his tongue in he was already purring. Deadshot thrashed, not to get away this time, but because that purr vibrated through his whole body, setting his nerves on fire.
He found his muscles relaxing against his will and he just lay there, quivering and whimpering and completely stopped fighting.
Catman felt the fight dissolve from the warrior and purred harder, finding himself greatly amused and aroused by the hitching whimpers spilling from the other’s mouth. He slid one hand, still sticky from the lube, around and wrapped it around Lawton’s dick. He rode out the sudden arch and thrust and brought the man off quickly.
He worked fast to slick himself and get into position before driving himself deep into his villain in one fast thrust, seating himself in fully, balls brushing against the soft virgin skin. He could feel Deadshot try to tense but he was too relaxed after having just came only seconds before.
Blake leaned into the man, pulling his hips up towards him until Lawton was kneeling under him, mostly held up by Catman and not himself. He thrust slowly at first but quickly got into a rhythm, fast and hard. He pounded into the tight arse in front of him and stretched slightly so that he could, once again, bite down hard. This time he sank his teeth into the heavy ridge of Deadshot’s spine. The man shuddered under him as he felt himself harden again.
Tom slid a hand around from the hip he had a bruising grip on and wrapped it back around Lawton’s dick again. He stroked once before squeezing, hard.
Deadshot screamed.
Catman grinned and thrust in one final time, coming in a burst of wet heat and an incredible feeling of fullness inside Lawton.
Blake kept both hands on the man possessively as he sprawled bonelessly on top of him. He wasn’t prepared to move yet, in ten minutes or so maybe. But by then he wouldn’t be moving off the man but into him again.
He contemplated whether he should buy a collar tomorrow. The mental image was delicious and he started purring again.
Word Count: 1469
(This was not how this story was going to go, it would still have had pron but...my Deadshot muse was being annoying and Catman was well....in a rather possessive mood. Heh.
Rather explicite so I'm gonna say they're NC-17.
Tell me if I made any mistakes please.
I think we're going to have to call them something else soon cos they certainly aren'y snippets anymore. Damn Catman!
The third fic has some slight non-con
Ripples
The warm water swirled gently around him caressing his scarred skin and tickling the surfaces of his eyes.
Strong hands held his head down, the calloused skin of one hand tight around the dome of his skull and harsh metal digging into his jaw and ear. Both held him close and down.
There was dull pain in his lungs and a vague heaviness of the water pressing against the inside of those organs. With his healing factor it wasn't as if he really needed to breathe but instincts forced him to try whenever he had room to draw in breath. It only added to the liquid sloshing inside of him. He was slowly turning into a giant water bottle. One day some-one would turn him upside down and drink it all down.
He could see it now. "Eau de Deadpool - the new water sensation coming soon to shops near you!"
Giggling didn't help him, although Cable didn't seem to mind it if the sharp and uncontrolled thrust was any indication. Wade smirked slightly (as well as one could in such a situation anyway) and nipped lightly. Nate hissed and tightened both hands around the mercenary's skull and thrust harder.
Deadpool fisted his hands against his friend's heavily muscled thighs and rode out the rather vicious thrusts. He swallowed hastily and pushed himself out of the water to lean against the other man. Turned away to cough up faintly bloody water.
One cool metal hand slid between his legs and he felt his back arch past what should be humanly possible as it slid inside him. He wriggled to feel the sharp edges of the knuckles and bucked as Cable found his "happy happy joy joy spot" (Cable refused to use the name Deadpool had come up with for his prostate) and started to rub, hard, against it. Blood slicked the metal finger, which allowed the mutant to add another without undue harm to his lover.
A warm, human, hand curled around his bobbing dick and matched time with the movements of his other hand.
Wade held on as long as he could but eventually his body stiffened and his vision whited out. He came to later on slumped against the luscious hot/cold, skin/metal of Nate's chest. The former X-man had one hand wrapped around his scarred back and was, quite contentedly, licking the sticky mess of Deadpool's cum off his fingers. He smirked down at the mercenary and leaned back against the wall of the spa.
Deadpool just stared at him for a minute before reaching out to grab his mask and tug it on. He slipped out of the rapidly cooling water and padded, naked but for his mask, across the room, out the door and down the hallway. Reaching his room he picked up a large aluminium spray can. He stared at it for a couple of minutes. He'd been really good; surely Nate would let him...
Nate rubbed a hand through his pale hair and waited for his little mercenary to return to him, not doubting for a second that he would.
He heard the man before he skipped back into the room, still effectively nude which had caused quite a few double takes from the mostly innocent staff in the complex, humming a rather mangled version of the Battlestar Galactica theme song. He raised an eyebrow at the can of WD-40 that the man was snuggling to his chest but just lifted his hand to tug the man back into the tub.
Whatever it took to keep him.
Word Count: 597
Honey
Powerful shoulders, curved gently in repose under him. Smooth cinnamon skin only occasionally marked by pale scars the colour of milk which traced abstract patterns across that well muscled back.
He held up the little bottle and squeezed gently, watched the hot amber liquid slide thickly over skin almost the same colour. Moved with the startled arch and shudder of the man under him. Hmm...maybe he’d heated the honey a little too much. He shrugged pale shoulders and leaned down. Placed one white hand on the darker skin of his mate’s side and leaned down to follow the slowly moving trail of liquid down the heavy archer’s muscles of the other’s arm. Lifted his head to nuzzle golden hair and tilted the bottle again.
Hot, sweet liquid smoothed slowly down the smooth sweep of skin to pool in the dip where back meet hips and he trailed it with happy lips and tongue. Under the cloying sweetness of the honey he could taste the subtle, spicy and exotic taste of his lover’s skin. It tasted like an old spice shop smelled, heady and rich. Salty from sweat.
He purred happily as he lapped at the shallow pool of honey and trailing his fingers through the mess he dipped them lower, searching. Sleek hips bucked up against his own slim ones as he slid a finger into deep inviting warmth, twisting and searching until he found that spot, there, and rode the wild thrashing of the lithe body under his.
Sliding in a second sticky finger he was glad that he’d thought to bring the honey with him today as well as his usual toy. Finishing up preparing the other man he slid a hand along one powerful arm. Stopped when he reached the strange buzzing warmth of the green glowing bands around his wrists which bound them together beneath his chest. He dissolved them. Slid slowly in as the archer braced himself on shaking hands and reached up to remove the emerald gag which had stopped him from making noise.
Smirked at the sudden sounds, harsh breathing interspersed by shaky whimpering little moans. Even without a gag the other was always so quiet. With every slow thrust of his hips a matching little groan slipped out of the other’s lips. Whimpered words. “Please...Love you...so much...please!”
He slid one sweetly sticky hand around the other and started to work him with the movements of his own hips. Licked and kissed at the traces of honey he could reach on his lover’s neck and came hard enough to see stars.
Still shocky from his own orgasm he pulled them over onto their sides and stroked lazily at the silky skin of his archer’s inner thigh before wrapping that hand around one heavy ball and squeezing in time with the short tugs of his other hand. He clung to the other man as he shuddered to completion and turned him around so he could kiss the soft skin of his closed eyelids. Trailed kisses across his cheek and jaw before diving for those perfect pouting lips and devouring them. Curled around him and let sleep take them both.
Early in the morning, before the moon had even left the sky to give way for the sun, a beeper, sitting on the bed side table, started going off. A sleepy hand smacked the table next to it and patted the smooth wood until the little thing was found. It was thrust across the bed towards the other hero.
Some soft sleepy words later and one of the pair was struggling out of bed and into uniform, still groggy from sleep and sex. He leaned down to kiss the other good bye and slipped out of the room.
It was a couple of hours later, after the mission was complete and Star City was safe for another day that Ollie approached his youngest son and asked the question that had been bothering him since the young man had joined him on site two hours ago.
“Connor? Is that honey on your arm?”
No answer other than an extremely vivid blush seemed forthcoming. In fact, for some reason, no matter how many times he asked about it over the next couple of days he never got an answer to his question.
A week later Hal watched Kyle in confusion. There was really no reason to spread your toast with honey with that much of a smug expression was there? He really didn’t want to ask.
Word Count: 753
Pussy Cat
(Catman - Tom Blake, Deadshot - Floyd Lawton)
When he first reached out to try it had been just a vague curiosity and had nearly gotten him killed. The blades pressed hard enough to his stomach to draw a ribbon of blood had put him off for a while.
He wasn't a cat himself but that hadn't stopped the strong draw of curiosity. He'd come back to try again. And he'd had a knife pressed to his throat that time.
It wasn't until about the seventh time he tried that Catman had allowed it. They'd been working together for only a couple of weeks and it was still during the whole Villain war thing that damned Luthor had started. He'd finally been able to get a hand on the other man's ear and scratched. He'd half expected the purr but it had still startled him.
Blake had pulled away looking angry and embarrassed.
It had been another two weeks before he'd gotten the chance again. Two months before the man had settled down enough to lie next to him and just let him scratch at his ears; he had purred so hard that first time that the whole couch had vibrated with it.
Today Catman was kneeling between his legs, one hand braced against Deadshot's thigh as he stitched the short cut over his hipbone. Large hands held the needle with care and he moved with an almost startling gentleness, like a lion with its cubs. Lawton waited, barely flinching at the draw of metal against his flesh until the job was finished and the sterilised pad taped on. Before Blake could move away he reached out and scratched one bare ear.
He gripped the man between his thigh and felt muscles stiffen as the man drew back a little. But when he turned the scratch into something more of a pat the other villain relaxed against him, purr starting to rumble in his chest.
Pulling him closer, up against his chest Lawton stroked along his back and sides, down to his flanks and up again. Catman slowly settled against him only to startle when his stomach brushed up against something hard. As far as he remembered Deadshot had put down his gun harness before sitting on the edge of the lounge to get his wound treated. A glance to the side confirmed this; the harness with all of it's guns lay in a careless pile on the coffee table.
He smirked slightly and pushed up against the other man, hard, tumbling him back on the ratty cushions. He drove the other man down into the lounge, pressing him in with his body and ground his hips into the others.
Deadshot let out a shout, surprise mixing with shocked lust, and tried to push his friend off. But he failed miserably. One big powerful hand snatched up both his wrists before he could even think of struggling further and the other wound itself tight into his hair.
Blake tugged hard on dark hair until the mercenary’s throat was bared, arching back away from him and completely irresistible. He threw a satisfied thanks to who ever was listening for the other man having changed into civvies first and then bit down, right over Deadshot’s jugular, as hard as he could. Grinned at the slow swell of blood and held on.
Lawton twisted under him, trying to throw off the other man; the strange feelings of helplessness and panic beginning to rise. The hand in his hair let go, it disappeared for a second only to join the other at his wrists. With a thin cord. He thrashed and struggled under the stronger man but found himself dragged to his feet, then into a bedroom and thrown onto a neatly made bed. When he tried to get to his feet he was knocked back down with a growl.
Catman smirked widely and knelt on the bed over his fellow villain, pinning him to the bed with his knees. He reached over him and grabbed the knife from under the pillow and ignoring Floyd’s cursing and pleading cut the man’s clothes off his body leaving him completely nude.
He lay himself down over the hit man, pressing down with his whole body and licked at the mess of blood on his throat. The noise he made was somewhere in between a purr and a growl.
He leaned back to quickly strip off his own clothes and stretched out to grab something from the bed side table.
Ignoring the man’s increasingly desperate attempts to alternatively reason with him and threaten him, he picked him up and turned him over, grabbed his hips and dragged him to his knees.
“Really Lawton, calm yourself. You did start this after all.” He purred into the man’s ear, nibbled at the lobe of it before proceeding to fuck it with his tongue. The man in his arms choked back a moan and shivered against his chest. “Wont hurt you. Much.”
He slicked up his finger and slid one in, nice and slow. Damn but the man was tight, hot and tight, as he clenched against the invasion. Deadshot let out a shocky sounding grunt and tried again to pull away.
“No you don’t. Patted the cat Deadshot, now I own you, gotta make you mine. Just relax baby, it’ll be easier.” It was spoken in a dark growl pressed against his sweaty throat and another finger was pressed into his ass with the words.
Deadshot shook in the man’s arms. He liked the man sure, liked the purring more than he should have of but he’d never thought it would go this far. He’d never been with a man before and while Catman wasn’t overly rough he was also relentless in this. He was terrified.
Tom felt the man shake in his arms as he twisted his fingers inside of him and stroked his flank gently. He licked at the droplets of sweat beading on the pale skin of the man’s neck and purred deliberately. Felt Deadshot shudder deliciously at the sound before he added the third finger, worked it hard this time and fast before withdrawing his hand and pushing the man down into the mattress.
Deadshot found himself flinching in terror when the mattress shifted behind him and strong hands spread his cheeks wide. This was it.
Catman smirked, took a deep breath and blew across the sensitive skin. He chuckled as the man jumped under him and leaned down to lick a long stripe up the crack of his arse. Laughed out loud when the man squealed. And when he leant down to thrust his tongue in he was already purring. Deadshot thrashed, not to get away this time, but because that purr vibrated through his whole body, setting his nerves on fire.
He found his muscles relaxing against his will and he just lay there, quivering and whimpering and completely stopped fighting.
Catman felt the fight dissolve from the warrior and purred harder, finding himself greatly amused and aroused by the hitching whimpers spilling from the other’s mouth. He slid one hand, still sticky from the lube, around and wrapped it around Lawton’s dick. He rode out the sudden arch and thrust and brought the man off quickly.
He worked fast to slick himself and get into position before driving himself deep into his villain in one fast thrust, seating himself in fully, balls brushing against the soft virgin skin. He could feel Deadshot try to tense but he was too relaxed after having just came only seconds before.
Blake leaned into the man, pulling his hips up towards him until Lawton was kneeling under him, mostly held up by Catman and not himself. He thrust slowly at first but quickly got into a rhythm, fast and hard. He pounded into the tight arse in front of him and stretched slightly so that he could, once again, bite down hard. This time he sank his teeth into the heavy ridge of Deadshot’s spine. The man shuddered under him as he felt himself harden again.
Tom slid a hand around from the hip he had a bruising grip on and wrapped it back around Lawton’s dick again. He stroked once before squeezing, hard.
Deadshot screamed.
Catman grinned and thrust in one final time, coming in a burst of wet heat and an incredible feeling of fullness inside Lawton.
Blake kept both hands on the man possessively as he sprawled bonelessly on top of him. He wasn’t prepared to move yet, in ten minutes or so maybe. But by then he wouldn’t be moving off the man but into him again.
He contemplated whether he should buy a collar tomorrow. The mental image was delicious and he started purring again.
Word Count: 1469
(This was not how this story was going to go, it would still have had pron but...my Deadshot muse was being annoying and Catman was well....in a rather possessive mood. Heh.