Foggy Jack’s hand slid up and down his shaft using blood as lube. The blood was everywhere- on his clothes, on the ground, on his hands, even on his face and in his mouth (from licking it off his fingers, of course). The taste lingered on his tongue, a salty, warm reminder of his activities.
He had accidentally dropped his cleaver and it lodged in his leg. Considering he was essentially immortal, it didn’t kill him, instead giving him a hard-on. He had yanked the blade out, which of course contributed to the big mess he made.
Not all of the blood was his, however, as he had done a bit of knife play with his dearest Nicky earlier that night (not that the man had to know about that)- which was the blood he had put in his mouth. His rockstar would be fine.
The memory of all he’d done and the sight and taste of the blood in his mouth would set him off, his hand moving faster and faster up until he finally shoots all over his stomach.
the Uncle Jack x my persona (fuck it imma just call him by his name) Charles X fic is very unfinished + the scent scene isnt even close to done, but i thought i’d share an excerpt (albeit with a few words removed bc some kinks im not as public about)
once again, scent/musk kink teehee + implied noncon
-------------------------------------------------
Uncle Jack then straddled my chest and forced my face into his clothed crotch. “I was told you were susceptible to scent. Why don’t you give mine a try? Maybe you and I can bond more this way.” He was breathing heavily, making his slight tummy press against my face with each intake of breath. “C’mon, sweetie. Breathe me in.”
I whimpered before obeying, my eyes half-lidding as the musky-yet-rosy scent filled my senses. Eventually, my eyelids closed entirely as I inhaled more, a hum leaving my throat as he pressed against my face more.