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#It was so hard to draw swollen Jack but yeah
gensokiyo · 1 month
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Remember that collab drawing I did? Welp, I kind of drew "what happens next" after the epic fight 'cause, I thought it would be funny!
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Btw, I'm not used to draw swollen Jack so... It's all you'll be getting 😭 (Tried my best tho-)
Sorry @joeydrewsweetbun, I don't think Joey survived
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
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harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles
Through Hell and Back
warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.
this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.
PLEASE let me know your thoughts.
Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.
His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.
He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”
Harry already knew she wasn’t.
Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”
If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.
“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.
Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.
“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”
“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.
She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”
“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.
YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.
She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”
He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”
YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”
“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.
He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.
He does that every week without miss.
Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.
She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.
Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.
One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.
“Why?”
Harry frowns, “Why what?”
She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”
“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”
YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”
And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.
Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”
He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”
“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.
Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.
When she felt broken, well so did he.
“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.
“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“
“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”
Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”
He was still doing all he can.
“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.
“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.
Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.
“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.
“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.
He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.
“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.
“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.
“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.
He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”
Harry holds her for a very long time that night.
-
With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.
Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.
It was nearly three in the morning this time.
Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.
He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.
Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”
Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.
Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.
I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x
He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”
She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”
All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”
All of them are quiet.
He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.
“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.
“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.
-
When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.
“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.
She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.
“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.
YN clenches her jaw, “No.”
He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”
“I didn’t have a nightmare.”
“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.
“I love you.”
It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.
To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.
“I love you too, puppy.”
She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”
YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”
Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.
—-
“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”
“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”
“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”
——
“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.
It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.
How could he blame her for her commitment issues?
Why she struggles to trust?
Why she never feels good enough?
“I’m sorry to bring that up-“
“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”
YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.
She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”
His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.
“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”
It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.
And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”
He would and he has.
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thishintoflove · 3 years
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“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic
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TSwift Songfic Week Day 5
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)
A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.
Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.
I think he knows his hands around
A cold glass
Make me wanna know that body
Like it's mine
The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.
It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.
You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.
He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.
You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.
“Another round, kid?”
You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.
“I’m good for now,” you answered.
He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”
You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.
Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.
Stupid horny bastard.
He got that boyish look that I like in a man
I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans
It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands
No one understands
You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.
If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.
In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.
Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.
Wanna see what's under that attitude
Like, I want you, bless my soul
And I ain't gotta tell him
I think he knows
A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.
You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.
“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.
“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”
“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”
Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.
“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”
“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”
You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.
“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.
“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...
“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?
“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.
“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.
“I just assumed…”
“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”
He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.
“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”
“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.
Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh
We can follow the sparks, I'll drive
So where we gonna go?
I whisper in the dark
You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.
“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.
He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.
“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”
You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.
“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.
“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.
Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.
Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.
Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”
“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.
“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.
When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.
“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”
You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.
When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.
“Damn, that was…”
“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”
“So you imagined it, huh?”
Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.
“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.
“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.
Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.
“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”
“Only if you join me, sugar...”
I want you, bless my soul
I ain't gotta tell him
I think he knows
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On Camera
 a fic for @writethelifeyouwant about Sam. On camera.
I think it ended up a bit over 500 words. Sorry not sorry.
-
Sam looks around nervously, a final check that everything’s in place. Bed made, door locked, roommate out for the next few hours, lights adjusted the way the studio told him to. Lube and a “realistic” dildo in easy reach, and he’s wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Stanford-red hoodie.
Tripod with camera aimed at the pool of light on the bed, and he wishes he could keep his face out but the studio pays more if they can see his face, his reactions, and he’s more than a little desperate since discovering that his scholarship doesn’t cover books or meal plan and he needs cash fast. Luckily there’s a market for pretty boys in financial need, he doesn’t even need to let someone else touch him and the studio loved his jack-off video. 
This’ll pay more.
Deep breath. He hits “record” and moves around to sit on the bed.
“Hey, so uh… I’m Sam, and you all liked my first vid so much, I’m making another. And it’d really help me out if you could leave a comment about what else you’d like to see from me.” He scrubs his hands on his sweatpants, laughs a little. “I’m still a bit nervous, so any encouragement you all could give would be… yeah.”
The studio told him not to worry about music or anything, they’d add some when they edited the video he’s sending them, but he can’t help wishing he could have something playing. Anything to get his mind off the camera in front of him and the blinking red light. He knows his cheeks are flushed red from embarrassment, but the studio loved that. “Ya look all innocent and shy... that gets lots of subscribers. Keep it up!”
He rubs the back of his neck, glances up at the camera, and feels himself blush harder. The problem is he’s just not in the mood, but if he doesn’t drop this tape in the mail today, he’s gonna start really falling behind on his classes. And maybe he shouldn’t, because that’s what got him into this new line of work in the first place, but he can’t break a habit of a lifetime, so he closes his eyes and thinks what would dean do.
Tries not to feel shame as he pictures Dean in his position and his dick starts to take interest immediately. He strokes it lightly, teasing through soft cotton, enough so it plumps up to tent the fabric before sliding his hands up his chest, rubbing at his nipples until they stiffen.
what would dean do
Sam opens his eyes, grins at the camera. “Think I should take it off?” He pulls the zipper of his hoodie down a couple inches, bites his lip, drags it further until the N and F are separated. That’s enough to trail his hand up between his pecs, up his throat, pushing his head back as he draws his fingers up over his chin to tease at his lips. Pretends it’s someone else’s hand (pretends it’s dean’s) as he sucks the tip of his index finger in and moans softly. He brings his free hand up to squeeze his pec, and blushes again. It’s not a tit, but he’s been touching himself the way Dean touches girls for so long he’s not sure he can get off without it.
Slowly, he pulls his finger out of his mouth, makes it pop loudly before tugging the zipper down completely and shrugging out of the sleeves. “You’ve got a great bod, kid, let us get a good look,” the studio said, so he pauses there, flexing his muscles, running his hands over his abs and gasping as he tickles his own sides. Goes back to his chest to squeeze and tweak his nipple, pinches one hard and gives it a little twist that makes him gasp. His eyelids are heavy as he looks into the camera again.
“I like when it hurts, just a little.” He barely recognizes the husky voice as he confides in the camera. In the thousands, maybe millions of faceless men who are going to watch this. Sam lets his eyes fall shut and pictures Dean standing there. “Wish you could touch me.”
what would dean do
Sam lets his hands fall, caresses his dick through his sweatpants with a groan. “Ready for more?” He falls back onto the bed, lifts his hips to slide his sweatpants off his hips, scoots back as his cock springs free of the waistband to thump against his belly. It’s hard and heavy, aching for attention but he avoids touching it. Frames it in his hands as he kicks his sweatpants off to the floor, pressing on the base with his thumbs to make it stand straight in the air. “Big, huh?” is not false bragging. He knows what average is, in real life and in porn, knows that he’s larger than most. Knows that he looks even bigger shaved bare, like the studio instructed. “Too bad it’s wasted on me.”
He pulls a leg up, raising his ass a bit higher, feels the tension in his abs as he reaches around his thigh to grab a cheek. Spreads himself wide, shows his hole to the camera. “What I really like… I like playing with this.” He braces himself on one elbow, reaches further, and rubs just the tips of two fingers over his hole, dry. His dick twitches, precum beading at the tip and smearing on his skin. Sam presses lightly, then harder, gets a finger in halfway to the first joint. A quick glance over his shoulder and he’s able to stretch his arm back to the bottle of lube on his nightstand. He flicks the lid open with his thumb and drizzles slick over his fingers and hole, hissing slightly at the chill.
The lube makes everything slippery, lets his first finger sink in completely and he’s got a second shoved in with a happy sigh before he remembers what the studio said. “Go slow, make ‘em wait for it.” He pulls his fingers halfway out, shoves them back in, starts slowly fucking himself and crooks his fingers up to hit his prostate. His dick leaks out more precum, a steady drip like a string of drool from where the head bobs in the air to his belly. His hips jerk, fucking back at his fingers and he bites his lip. 
“Could come like this, but you’re here for something else, right?” Sam pants, pulling his eyes back to the camera. He doesn’t stop fingerfucking his ass, feeling the soft heat clenching around his knuckles, just adds another finger and moans at the stretch. “Betcha wanna see me take… something… a bit bigger.”
He presses his fingers tight into his hole, rubs against his prostate and moans as he reaches his other hand out, grabs the dildo standing on the stand. It’s as long as he is, thick as his wrist, and he doesn’t think about how he’d picked it for its resemblance to Dean as he brings it to his lips. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but his tests showed him that it gets his face in frame without losing his ass, lets the audience see him wrap his lips around the thick mushroom head of his dildo while his fingers continue to thrust and stretch in his hole. The chemical taste of the fake dick is familiar, hours of practice for his own sake and he’d never planned to show off on camera but it is what it is. Slowly, carefully, he pushes the dildo into his mouth, opening his throat for it, doesn’t stop until the balls are pressed against his chin and he’s gagging on the length down his throat.
When he pulls it out, it’s glistening with spit. He’s gasping for air and his eyes won’t focus. His lips feel swollen when he licks them, tries to speak and has to cough to clear his throat. “Need it now,” Sam manages to say, and he pulls his fingers out of his hole, teases around the rim with the cock. “Need you so much…”
Sam struggles to relax as he pushes the head against his hole, pushes out against it, gasps and pants and whines until it finally pops through the ring of muscle, then lays there, clenching around the shaft until the burn of toothicktoomuch subsides. He fumbles for the lube, finds the bottle in the rumpled blankets where he dropped it, drips more slick onto the dildo and pushes it in farther. His back arches as he gets the toy deeper, each fraction of an inch a struggle. It’s his first time fucking himself with anything other than fingers and he’s almost sobbing with the pleasurepain of it, tears streaming down his cheeks. “De…” 
did i say that out loud?
It doesn’t matter. He’s got the whole of it inside him, filling him more than he’s ever been, and he wants more. Wants to feel weight on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, wants someone else pulling the thick shaft out and thrusting it back in, wants to feel hips pressing into his, swiveling the way he used to see Dean swivel in girls. All he’s got is his hand and a heavy chunk of silicone, so he gets a good grasp on the balls and starts thrusting and grinding the dick into him.
what would dean do
He wraps his other hand around his own cock, squeezing tight at the base, stroking himself roughly in time to the thrusts. His hips jerk back onto the dildo and forward into his fist and he throws his head back, bites back a howl and turns it into a long, low moan. It’s hard to keep a rhythm and he gives up on that, focuses on the feel of being stretched wide and stuffed, grinds back to try and get it just a little deeper, and his vision goes white as he comes harder than he ever has, spattering up his chest and he feels a few drops land on his chin before he collapses, boneless, on the bed.
Sam takes several tries to roll over, pushing himself up on his elbows and knees, but he finally gets in the studio-requested position and lets the dildo slide slowly out of his slicked-up ass, lets the camera linger on his gaping, puffy hole for a long minute before standing up with a groan, walking on shaky legs to turn off the camera. He pulls out the tape before he can chicken out, shoves it in the pre-addressed envelope and wipes himself off before getting dressed and heading out to drop the envelope in the mail, and he resolutely doesn’t think about it as he heads back to the showers to scrub himself clean.
-
Dean pulls the package out of the PO box and tries to pretend he’s doing this for noble reasons as he shoves $5k of pool hustling and poker cash in an envelope to mail to Stanford. Tries to pretend he’s gonna destroy the tape without watching it, tries to ignore the fact that the last tape was worn out from watching it before he finally broke it in pieces and burned it by the side of the road.
But if Sammy’s desperate enough for money that he’s willing to do this, Dean’s gonna make damn sure no one sees what’s supposed to be his. And if he does watch the videos Sam sends “the studio” a few times (a few hundred times) before getting rid of them, well… Dean figures he’s paid good money for these, and it’d be a shame to waste it.
200 notes · View notes
whereisten · 3 years
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Don’t Let Me Go (f,m)
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(A Johnny fic that’s part of the prompt game posted yesterday, got a few requests for him yesterday so I just combined them into one, hope you guys don’t mind :))
Warnings: a little cursing, smuT: oral sex (m and f receiving, face riding), penetration, size kink, choking.
6. midnight
20. warm soup
27. movie night
30. dreams
———
“It’s too cold out here, babe..we’re going home..”
Johnny drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.
“So boring, Mr. Suh, aren’t you from Chicago? You should be used to this!” You laugh and look out the window.
The two of you decided to watch the sunset on New Year’s Eve while walking through the city, but ended up leaving early because Johnny couldn’t stop shaking from the cold.
“I am used to this, I just...don’t want you to suffer.” He shrugs his shoulders.
You scoff. “Yeah, right”
Johnny turns to you and smirks as he rubs his hand over your thigh slowly.
“How about we go to Target..pick up a few things..”
“Ahh..Target, that sounds good.”
You turn to him and smile.
He giggles, knowing that you loved to walk around Target for absolutely no reason.
“Right? We’ll get some vegetables and chicken to make you some warm soup, since you’re so cold.”
You rolled your eyes. “Weren’t you the one that said “it’s too damn cold right now, I can’t feel my 5-foot long legs?”
“And we’ll get some popcorn and trail mix and have a movie night!”
“Well, as long as you’re the one cooking.” You place your hand over his.
———
Back at his apartment, Johnny quickly cooked up soup for you. He used his mom’s recipe and put his all into making it perfect for you like he usually did.
You drank it with him while talking about your New Years resolutions.
“I just want to be happy with you... I think we should spend more time together.” He says while taking a sip of his delicious and warm soup.
You nodded. You knew that with your busy schedule and his busy schedule, you rarely had time together. But you still loved each other very much. You both wished you could have moments like this more often, but with Johnny’s life as an idol and your life as a teacher, you could only spend time together on weekends or at nights when he had to sneak out or you had to sneak in.
“We’ll be alright, Johnny..I love you.” Your eyes are warm and kind, that’s the reason why he fell for you in the first place. He felt so comfortable around you, he felt love radiant from your beautiful smile and aura. And you felt the same from him. Everything he displayed as an idol was only magnified behind the scenes.
He was just as soft and sweet as he appeared to be on TV. Sometimes, you couldn’t believe he was real.
He places his spoon down and then rubs his hand over yours on the table.
“Would you...consider marrying me? Like..would you want to spend your life...with me?” Johnny asks quietly while stumbling over his words.
Your eyes widened. “Of course, baby. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”
Your voice was sweet and sincere, Johnny quickly pulled you into a hug.
“I love you too, baby, don’t let me go.”
———
Later that night, the two of you watched a movie together on Johnny’s bed. He set his projector up so you could lay comfortably in his arms. Almost too comfortably.
You fell in and out of sleep while watching Titanic, but Johnny didn’t bother you about it. He watched your cute face and ran his hand through your hair.
He rubbed circles into your back as well, making you relax onto him even more.
You woke up for the ending of the movie and felt sad when Jack drifted into the water.
“I don’t know why it always makes me sad, we already know it’s bound to happen.” You mutter.
“Just because we know it’s coming doesn’t mean the blow is softened.” Johnny whispers.
The movie ends just before the 1-minute countdown to the new year. You and Johnny kiss right as the fireworks go off at midnight.
They illuminate his room beautifully and you feel your heart flutter with emotions. You wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck and intertwine your tongue with his.
He holds you in his broad arms and kisses you until you fall asleep.
———
As you sleep, you dream about a date with Johnny.
You can’t see much, but you know that the two of you are ice skating on a frozen lake. Everything seems fine, you twirl around him and he holds your hand while smiling widely.
But then, a crack in the ice starts to form under Johnny, and despite him standing still, it continues to spread.
“Y/n?” He says with fear in his voice.
And suddenly, the crack opens completely and he falls into the icy water.
“Johnny!” You leap towards him and grab his arm.
“It’s okay, it’s okay..” He tries to be reassuring, but tears run out of his beautiful brown eyes.
“Don’t let me go!” You yell as he you struggle to pull him up. His face soon disappears under the water and his arm goes limp.
“Johnny!” You yell once again and jump up out of your sleep.
Johnny holds your arms and shakes you gently. “Y/n..y/n, I’m right here..it’s okay.”
You hold your face in your hands and sob.
“I’m sorry..it felt so real.”
He turns his bedside lamp on then turns back to you. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Yeah..I just..I thought I lost you.”
Johnny pulls you into his arms and holds you close.
“Baby, no, I’m right here, I’ll always be here for you. It’s just a nightmare.”
He wipes your tears and kisses your forehead. “I love you.”
You sniffle. “I love you too.”
You scoot closer to him but feel something like your stomach.
“J-Johnny?”
You look under the blanket. “Are you hard right now?”
Johnny chuckles, his face turning red.
“I’m sorry baby, I had a really good dream actually.”
“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah..It’ll go away, I just have to...”
“Shhh..who said I want it to go away?” you put a finger over his lips then lower yourself under the blanket.
You pull his boxers down and allow his aching length to spring free.
“You don’t have to, baby..” he struggles to get out, because the truth is that he hopes you do.
“Mmm...but I really want to..” you lock eyes with him and lick the pre cum from his tip.
You place kitten licks along his cock, licking across his bulging veins before kissing his swollen and red tip.
Johnny curses under his breath as he watches you swallow half of him while under the blanket.
You pull off of him completely and lick your lips. “I forgot how big you are..”
He runs his fingers through your scalp.
“It was just last week that I fucked you so hard you couldn’t walk the next day, how could you forget?”
“Hmmm I don’t remember, I think I need a refresher.” You winked then lowered yourself onto him again, this time using both hands to twist around the base of of his cock while you sucked whatever you could fit into your mouth.
You moan onto him, flicking your tongue all over him and moving your hands up and down.
“Fuck..” he lets out in a low groan.
You swirl your tongue around his tip then continue to move it up and down his shaft.
“Mmmm..Johnny..I’m so wet for you.” You look into his eyes as you lick up and down.
“Come on, baby, I can’t take any more teasing.” His grip on your hair tightens slightly.
You swallow him whole and hum again to send vibrations through his sensitive manhood.
He thrusts upwards into your throat, making gag unexpectedly.
You continue to choke on him and listen as his groans grow louder.
“Ahh..That’s it, baby girl, I’m close.”
Tears escape your eyes and you whimper as he thrusts harder.
“Cum for me, Johnny.” You stroke his dick faster and flatten your tongue on the head.
Spurts of milky strings decorate your neck and chin as Johnny moans beautifully.
Johnny bites his bottom lip as he watches your fucked out face over him.
“Come here..” he whispers. You climb over him while wiping his cum off.
“Ride my face.”
“What?” Your eyes grow.”
“I want to taste you..” he says with low eyes.
“Are you sure?”
He lowers himself and waits for you to get on top.
You’re in nothing but a g string and his t shirt, but you look gorgeous to him.
Your knees dig into the pillow, you hover over his face and the feeling is strange. You can feel his warm breath fan your entrance.
You swallow hard as he uses two fingers to push the thin fabric of your g string to the side.
He licks over your folds as you shiver from the sudden contact.
“It’s not like I haven’t tasted you before, sweetheart...don’t be nervous, just move.”
He grabs both knees and pries them further apart so you’re right on his pillowy lips.
He flattens his tongue against you, listening to you make the most wonderful whimpers he’s ever heard.
On instinct, you move forward and backward against his tongue, feeling his lips kiss your core as if it’s your lips.
His tongue feels inside of you as he uses two fingers to explore your pussy.
He presses his finger tips onto that spot while he groans. The vibrations make you jump from stimulation, but his tongue doesn’t stop. He pushes it against your clit with more force, gaining a loud moan from you.
He squeezes your thigh and shakes his head from side to side, as if to tell you you’re naughty for making such loud noises.
But the movement only adds to your stimulation.
You move faster now, placing your hands onto your breasts. You massage them and play with your nipples as Johnny draws circles onto your clit.
“Johnny!” You cry out as the intense feeling takes you over.
He pinches your thigh again, looking up at you and watching you play with your breasts under his large t shirt.
You bite your lips in an effort to stay quiet, but you can’t help but cry out as you climax on his face. “Oh...my god!”
Johnny watches your body shake above him in the dim lighting of the room, then holds you by the waist and lays you down beside him.
He wipes his face. “I love you, sweetheart, you’re so beautiful.”
“I love you too, that was amazing.” You breathe heavily.
He smirks then turns you over on your side, gently massaging your warm skin in the process.
He kneels and then straddles your leg while curling your other leg around his side.
He holds his hard cock in his hand, brushing the tip against your dripping folds.
You flinch slightly when you feel it against your quivering pussy.
Johnny licks his lips and pushes into you slowly, giving you time to adjust.
“Fuck..” you exhale. “Keep going.”
He pushes into while looking into your eyes.
His intense eye contact and the way he clenches his jaw makes you even wetter than you were before.
You wince and he stops moving.
“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly.
“Yeah..it’s okay.”
He thrusts into you, watching as you grip the sheets beside you and whine.
This position always allowed him to deeper while still maintaining eye contact with you.
Your clit was perfectly stimulated and he could watch every cry escape your mouth as well as your breasts.
But here you were in his t shirt looking more perfect than you’ve ever looked as you took all of him in.
“Fuck it’s so deep inside you..” his tongue darts across his bottom lip.
He thrusts harder the pulls out completely.
“Faster..please.” You beg him.
“Of course. Anything for you.”
And with that, Johnny drills his cock into your pussy, stretching it out to become the perfect fit for him.
“Johnny!” You cry out while watching his abs flex and his beautiful body glisten in sweat above you.
He moves fast and places a hand around your neck, knowing that you preferred being quieted this way.
He squeezes your throat and starts to choke you.
Your body moves up and down on the plush bed, you can’t think straight as he destroys you in the middle of the night.
He throws your leg up on his shoulder, his cock his your g spot repeatedly and you silently go insane. His thrusts are fast, but his sturdy length slides in and out of you easily, never failing to press against your extremely sensitive areas.
“Good girl...take it just like that.”
His tone is low and husky, he continues to choke you while looking into your eyes deeply.
And with a few more thrusts, you come undone just as he does, your body shaking once again.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head as Johnny kisses you through it.
It feels like minutes pass by while you experience your most intense orgasm.
He pulls out of you after he comes down. He then goes to the bathroom and grabs a towel to wipe you up with.
“Johnny..” you close your eyes as you feel sleep overtake your body.
He pulls you into his arms and hugs you. “Let’s go back to sleep, sweetheart, I’m right here.”
562 notes · View notes
mellowswriting · 3 years
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Mando N*S*F*W Alphabet
**I had to delete and reupload this because tumblr hates me lmao
A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Mando is exhausted. Sex is always drains every bit of energy from the both of you because Mando is intense. Whether he’s giving it to you slow and deep or he’s fucking you hard over any available surface, every bit of strength is sapped from his usually strong and capable body. 
That doesn’t mean he skimps on the aftercare, though. He likes to rub his palms over your heated skin - your arms, your thighs, your belly. Doesn’t matter to him, he just wants to touch. 
He whispers his thanks into the air like he’s in confession, his words hushed as he tells you how good you are for him, how lucky he feels. How much he loves you. 
Din loves to fall asleep with his cock still buried in you, overstimulated and twitching every now and then, even if he knows he’ll likely wake up with a sore back from the awkward position. 
B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Din didn’t really think about his own body that much, positively or negatively - until he met you of course. His body was just that. His body. But when you told him little things you loved about him, he couldn’t help but start to take notice. 
His hands are his favorite, he supposes. They’re strong, capable. Watching his fingers disappear into your mouth or twitch over your neck where he holds you in place as he fucks you fast and hard… it really gets him going. He can’t help but love his hands with the way you talk about them, too. The first time you told him it turned you on to watch how expertly he could disassemble his blaster to clean it made him look at them in a new light, and now he can never turn back. 
Din loves every single part of your body, but he’s partial to those hips. He can settle his hand on your hip while you’re standing next to him and easily stake his claim that way. Everyone around knows who you belong to like that. They’re his favorite place to grab while he fucks you, with your neck in a close second place. Whether you’re riding him, on your hands and knees, or laid out on your back, your hips sport bruises constantly from how hard his grip is when he uses them to hold you firm for him. 
Din also loves your mouth, but we’ll talk about that soon...
C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Holy shit does Din love seeing his cum on you, in you, anyway possible. It’s a primal thing that makes his spent cock twitch every time he sees it. It feels like he’s marking you, claiming you as his in the most base way possible. 
His absolute favorite place to finish is inside of you, obviously. The idea of it taking hold and watching your belly swell with his child? Fuck. His brain short circuits at the very thought. He shoves his cum back into you when it dares leak out, his fingers slick with both of your cum. He loves the feeling of your exhausted cunt spasming around his thick fingers. 
Din will cum all over your face if you assure him that you want it. It feels degrading in the most delicious way, and he would never want to make you feel like he genuinely sees you that way. Both those wide, pretty eyes staring up at him from where you’re kneeling on the floor, his cum all over your face is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He scoops it all up with his fingers and lets you suck them clean, and fuck, he’s hard again.
If you let him finish anywhere else, on your thighs or belly or ass, he’s rubbing it into your skin. Yet another way for him to lay his claim to you. 
D - Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Din wants to try consensual non-consent - specifically hunting you down like you’re some bounty. He wants to fuck you like he hates you, like you’re just a hole he paid to fuck in some sleezey brothel, not like you’re his precious, sweet little thing. Of course he would treat you like an angel afterwards, but in the moment? He wants to tie you up, haul you over his shoulder, and smack your ass when you beg him not to fuck you. 
E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Specifically with sex? Din is experienced. It’s canon that he fucks, okay. It was a utilitarian act, the periodical release of stress so he wouldn’t explode with pressure. Din makes sure his partner gets theirs and he gets his, and then he goes on his way.
Until you. Suddenly there’s this option to explore, broaden his horizons and try new things. Din discovers he loves missionary. He can grip your jaw and angle your face however he wants to get a good look at those kiss-swollen lips and glazed eyes. 
Intimacy during and after is the new part that he’s inexperienced with, and it takes him a minute to get used to it. The first time you tangle your fingers with his and just… hold his hand while he’s viciously railing you, Din’s pace stutters because… wow, this is somehow so soft and loving while he’s rearranging your guts and yeah, he loves it. And you. 
F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Din has a few, he can’t pick just one. 
Missionary is one of the top ones. He loves being able to look into your eyes and watch your face as you slowly lose your mind with pleasure. Watching your breasts bounce with each thrust is a plus, too. 
Face down, ass up, and you’ve got one very happy Mandalorian on your hands. It feels filthy, primal even, to fuck you like this. Like he’s got ownership of your body as he lords over you, gathers your hair in one hand, and pulls to get that beautiful arch to your spine. 
If you’re both exhausted but still needy, he’ll pull your back against his chest, tuck your leg over his hip, and slide into you nice and slow. It’s intimate and slow, the way he rocks into your body until you’re both sated. 
G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Din is a serious guy and that definitely includes during sex. 
I mean, he’ll chuckle if you knock heads, but that’s about it. 
He takes your pleasure seriously. He doesn’t just want you to feel good, he fucking needs it like he needs air. 
H - Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Din has a curly thatch of dark hair above his cock. He doesn’t let it grow out of control, but he doesn’t like shaving himself completely bare. The man already has to deal with layer upon layer of cloth and armor, he doesn't need the added discomfort of ingrown hairs and itchiness. So he keeps it neatly trimmed. 
Plus he has a small happy trail, just a thin wispy bit of hair reaching towards his belly button. 
I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Din murmurs how much he loves you, how lucky he is that he has you. In the moment when he’s so close to breaking, so close to filling you with his cum, his words are choked off and barely understandable. 
It becomes clearer once he’s come down from his high and his heart rate has gone back to normal. He murmurs between kisses to your face, shoulders, chest, anywhere he can reach. 
After so many years of impersonal sex, Din relishes in the intimacy he experiences with you. Just holding your body close to his gives him such a rush, he feels like a lovesick teenager. Somehow the way you gently run your fingers down his sternum makes him blush harder than the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. 
J - Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He used to masturbate regularly. It’s an easy way to ease some of his tension and help clear his mind. It doesn’t happen as often now - when he gets the urge, he goes to you for that release. 
If you aren’t around or busy or otherwise not in the mood, he has no problem taking care of himself if the ache is too much to ignore. 
K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise, giving and receiving. He loves the way you shiver underneath him when he calls you his good girl, tells you how pretty you look underneath him. He loves the desperate glint in your eyes because he just knows you want more of that addictive praise and that you’d do practically anything for it. But it’s the tremble in your voice when you tell him how fucking big he is, how amazing he feels splitting you open, how good he makes you feel that makes him lose his absolute mind. Din feels powerful and godly in the way that he can make you tremble beneath him, but beyond that - he feels loved. Appreciated. 
Degradation. A bit contrary to the praise kink, but hey. Din will growl out that you’re his cockdrunk little slut and shudder at your response of drawing his fingers into your mouth to suck on while he fucks you even harder. 
Breeding & Lactation kink. His entire culture is based upon raising and caring for children, so of course Din wants to see you swollen with his child. Even if it’s just a fantasy and you don’t want kids or can’t have them, he loves filling you with his seed and imagining. The very idea of wrapping his lips around your perky nipple and drinking the milk your body made to feed his child makes Din work a thousand times harder to breed you. 
Overstimulation. Those big, begging eyes you give him as he circles your clit, after already making you cum a few times lights something dark and primal inside Din. 
Primal play. Again, the idea of hunting you down and fucking you wherever he finds you has him harder than his beskar in a second flat.
Cockwarming. It’s intimate and teasing at the same damn time. What is there not to love about that?  
L - Location (favorite places to do the do)
His favorite place is his bunk. He doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him. He can strip completely bare, feel your skin against his own, listen to your cry out his name when he buries his teeth in your neck. 
That doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into a dark alleyway to fuck you against the bricks. He makes sure to cover your mouth with his gloved hand so no one hears you moaning on his cock like a desperate little slut. 
The cockpit. Holy shit, the cockpit. Din loves having you on his dick while he pilots. He doesn’t even have to be actively fucking you. If he’s got you in his lap with his dick buried in your cunt, then he’s rubbing your thighs and ass with those huge, warm hands while you curl up against his chest. If he’s got you on your knees for him with your mouth around his cock, you can expect him to settle his hand at the crown of your head to hold you close. Plus he even got you a little pillow after the first time you rose to your feet with sore and bruised knees
M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Watching you change clothes. There’s just something about the way you pause and smile so brightly when you see him looking at you, half dressed and offering him a kiss. It’s intimate, almost domestic. He’s got you tossed onto the bed so he can rip the rest of your clothes off before you can blink. 
Din loves when you beg. Your voice gets so desperate, so needy for him. 
Seeing you reject someone. Weird, I know, but hear me out. You’re fucking hot, so it’s bound to happen that someone will hit on you while you’re out and about, especially in cantinas and especially if Din has stepped away to take care of business. Without that imposing wall of beskar hovering behind you, some people are bold enough to approach and flirt with you. Most have no issue bowing out at your rejection, but there’s always the inevitable asshole who decides that you just need some more convincing. Din loves the way you eye them and then laugh in their face. It just cements the fact that you’re his. 
N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
No actual breathplay. Din will let his hands clamp over the sides of your neck to restrict your blood flow and give you that heady, hazy feeling, but refuses to actually press down on your windpipe. It’s too fucking dangerous. 
Nothing that would cause you actual harm or scar you. Knife play is a solid maybe, but he isn’t going to cut you or anything like that. The idea of causing you pain that isn’t also pleasurable makes his stomach turn. 
O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Din has a thing for your mouth, okay. He fucking loves everything about it, those soft lips, your talented tongue, the sharp bite of your teeth. You use it so well; your words are vivid and at times, poetic. Your kisses are all-encompassing. Din could lose himself in the flow of your lips against his. The marks you leave on his neck and chest make him shiver. 
So the image of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth??? HELLO, this man is hard and ready to go. He feels like you’re going to suck his entire soul out of him, and he’s totally okay with that too. 
Din never actually gave anyone else oral until you because of his Creed. He was too in his head about whoever he was with not respecting his religion and its importance, so he never gave in to the curiosity of pleasuring someone with his tongue. But don’t worry, Din is a fast learner. He listens to your instruction on what you like and pays rapt attention to the different ways your body responds to his touch, to what motions draws out those pretty little gasps and makes your hips jerk to grind against his face. 
Din learns that he doesn’t just love receiving oral, but giving as well. He would spend hours between your thighs if you’d let him
P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Both? Both. Both are good. 
It always ends with Din going fast and rough. More often than not, it starts with slow and soft grinding and gasping against each other. The more that tension builds, though? Din’s hands grow rougher as he wraps a hand in your hair to hold you steady in whatever position he wants to keep you in. His kisses become more teeth than tongue, his gasps and moans become harsh groans and growls that make tingles dance along your skin. 
After you both get yours though? He’s right back to being slow and soft and sensual. Such a precious man. 
Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Hey, sometimes you just gotta fuck and there’s not enough time to draw it out and completely exhaust your bodies. Din understands that better than anyone. So he has no problem bending you over the console in the cockpit when you grin at him with that sly fucking look on your face and say, “Ten minutes or less?” 
Honestly, I see Din as the type to have a quickie a day. No lie, he loves the fast and desperate rush of it all. Besides, it’s just the preface to the way he’ll break you down to an unintelligible, fucked out mess later before going to sleep. 
R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
God, yes. Please. Please experiment with this man. 
Din wants to learn. He’s certain there are things he likes that he just has never thought about before. So Din will 100% sit you down and have a long talk about your hard and soft limits, what you want to try and what he wants to try. Is his dick hard the entire time he listens to you stutter out your fantasies? Absolutely. 
Din jumps at the chance to try new things, but again - he won’t risk genuinely harming you. Ever. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 
S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Din can go for hours. What better is there to do in the endless, boring hours of flying through hyperspace? In the time it takes for him to get hard again, Din is between your thighs and pulling those heavenly sounds from you, stringing you along in the tortuous space between pleasure and overstimulation. 
Din can and will edge himself just to see how many times he can make you cum on his cock. So he can last hours, if he really applies his long-honed self control. 
T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
When you bring up toys for the first time, Din is immediately worried that he isn’t pleasing you enough, but once you reassure him that that isn’t the case at all, he’s game to try. And the first time he sees you trembling with a vibe against your clit, he’s hooked. 
Din doesn’t really care for toys he would use on himself. He’d much rather bury himself in you than some silicone. 
U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)
King of Mandalore? More like the King of Teasing. 
Din loves edging you, over and over again, until you’ve flown past begging and landed directly on frustrated and demanding. He loves seeing the hard edge of annoyance fall from your face into absolute bliss when he finally, finally lets you cum. 
V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Din mostly gives these low grunts and groans. They’re all rumbly and have molten pleasure pooling in your belly. 
The closer he gets to finishing, the more Din is gasping against your skin. Every sound he makes becomes breathier, lighter. Din cums with a strangled gasp, usually right in your ear because he knows how much you love it. 
W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Din is an absolutely cocky little shit. He loves showing you off. He leaves marks in highly visible places just so that everyone knows you’re his. Honestly, he can’t help it. You’re just so pretty, he doesn’t want anyone who looks at you to think they have a chance. 
He sits in booths in cantinas with his thighs spread like the drama king he is and pats his thigh for you to sit on. You always roll your eyes, but indulge him anyway. 
X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Din’s dick is a work of art and I refuse to believe otherwise. Uncut, eight inches long, and thick. Slightly curved upwards, perfect for grinding against your g-spot as he fucks the life out of you. 
His shoulders are broad, his chest strong and toned. There’s a slight pudge to his belly that he used to be kind of insecure about until he saw how much you love it. 
Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Din is a once a day at least kinda guy. Usually before bed because it helps both of you sleep and he loves the feeling of you cuddling up to him and slowly drifting off into a blissed out, peaceful sleep.
His max is three, though. He isn’t twenty anymore, his dick doesn’t get hard at the slightest change in the wind like it used to. But he will use his mouth and fingers on you literally whenever you want.  
Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Within fifteen minutes, Din is out. He gives you all of his attention for as long as he can, even when his eyes are drooping and he’s snuggling into you. 
Unless you need him of course. If you need to talk about something, anything, he’s sitting up so he can be entirely sure he’s awake and listening.
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aliendes · 4 years
Text
BTS Reaction to Cock Warming NSFW
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gif owner unknown (all gifs on this post are from Google)
BTS reaction to trying cockwarming (M) 18+ NSFW
Warnings: cockwarming (duh?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, a little oral?, over stim, dom!tae (oops), squirting, kind of subby JK if you squint. 
A/N: This was self-indulgent. I’m a slut for cockwarming and I can never find enough of it. If you have recommendations send them my way. 🥵🥵🥵 Some of these got long (all of them?) and some were really soft and others were…. Not at all hehe. I enjoyed writing Hoseok and Jimin for the first time, both in very different ways!
If you have a request, send me an ask!
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Seokjin would probably be unsure at first, but would be willing to try it if it made you happy. He would want to do it at night when you were both tired and cuddling to fall asleep. He would want you to slowly jack him off to get him hard and would probably whine when you stopped, missing the warmth of your hand, but that’s not the point tonight! You would wear only panties to bed, and he would be naked, as per usual. He would turn you both on your sides so he was spooning you from behind and slide your panties to the side so he could slowly finger you until he felt you were wet enough for him to slip in. You would both gasp at the feeling of his thick cock entering you with little preparation, and he would probably have a hard time staying still. A few minutes would go by of you both adjusting your bodies slightly to find a comfortable position to sleep in, letting out soft moans at the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.
Eventually you would fall asleep, loving the feeling of Seokjin’s warm length filling you up. Sometime throughout the night, Jin would wake up and wouldn’t be able to take the feeling of your walls around him anymore. “YN?” He would try to rouse you gently, “Love?” His whispers sounded strained as you opened one eye, worrying something was wrong, until you felt his member twitch in your dripping pussy. You let out a moan at the movement.
“Mmm,” Seokjin mumbled, slowly starting to move his hips back and forth, fucking into you slowly, “I can’t take it anymore YN, I have to fuck you.” 
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Yoongi was working on something in his studio, distracted by whatever was on his screen. You sat behind him on his small leather couch, enjoying his presence, as you worked on your own laptop. You had been horny all day and had been waiting for him to finish for the last few hours. You were starting to get frustrated, in more ways than one, and decided to do something about it.
“Yoongi,” you whined in a sweet voice, getting up from your spot on the couch and circling his chair. You trailed your fingertips over the back of his exposed neck, bringing goose bumps to the surface of his skin. “Baby,” you whined again, this time catching his attention.
“What’s the matter babe?” He gave you a bored look, lips pursed into that straight smile he liked to give you. You smiled sweetly at him. Making sure there were no wires or cords around you, you swung one leg over his lap and straddled him in his chair. Without missing a beat, he leaned back in the chair causing it to bounce backward with the weight and brought both hands up to rest on your hips. He raised an eyebrow at you as you leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. 
“I want you,” you whispered in his ear, “I can’t wait any longer, I’ve been wet all day.” The whine in your voice was apparent and it made Yoongi chuckle a bit. 
“Dirty girl,” he mumbled, running his hands along your thighs and ass, “just a little longer baby, I promise.”
“Yoongi,” you drew out his name, pulling back to pout at him, making him laugh again, “can I just sit on it? I won't even move, I promise I’ll let you finish.”
His laugh got caught in his throat as he let out a short cough, trying to process what you just said. “Like - like cockwarming?”
“Sure, if that’s what it takes to get you inside me.”
Yoongi looked unsure for a second, before desire flashed in his eyes. Removing one hand from your hips he slid his grey sweats and boxers down a bit, letting his semi-hard length spring out. Your pussy was drooling at the sight of it. “Pants off baby,” he said.
You didn’t need to be told twice. You stood up and unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them and your panties off at the same time. Excitement was bubbling in your stomach at the thought of finally getting to feel him. You tossed your clothes on the couch and by the time you were standing in front of him again he was languidly jerking his now fully hard member. You immediately sank to your knees and licked a stripe up his length from the base to the tip. “YN,” he groaned, head falling back against the chair, “you’re distracting me.”
You smirked and stood back up, straddling him again, one leg on either side of his body. Yoongi held his dick against your entrance as you slowly sank down onto him. Once he was fully sheathed in your warmth, you leaned on his chest, head resting on his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he mumbled into your hair as he sat forward in his chair to better reach his computer. You moaned at the feeling of his cock moving inside you, but stayed still like you promised. “If you’re a good girl and stay there til I’m finished, maybe I’ll let you cum on this cock.”
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Your boyfriend, Hoseok, was a freak, to put it lightly. He was always up for experimenting in the bedroom. You were usually the more timid one of the two of you. That’s why it took him by surprise when you shyly brought up cockwarming during dinner one night. That was a week ago. Now, you both had the day off tomorrow and Hoseok invited you over to stay the night at his place. You both knew tonight you were going to give cockwarming a try and to say you were both excited was a huge understatement. 
Hoseok had picked out a few movies to watch and brought blankets and pillows out to the living room to get cozy. After you had finished your takeout for dinner, you changed into panties and a large t-shirt, Hoseok changing into basketball shorts for easy access.
Once the movie was on, Hoseok situated you so you were both laying on your side, him behind you against the back of the couch. Both your heads were resting on a pile of pillows, a large fluffy blanket draped over the top of you both. You were incredibly comfy and could definitely fall asleep like this.
Throughout the first movie, Hoseok was warming you up by licking and nibbling at your neck and ear, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your clit through your panties. It was slow, almost like a massage, definitely not to get you off, but to make you soaking wet and ready for his cock.
“Ready, baby?” He asked, voice low and hoarse from not using his voice for a while. 
You nodded your head, turning back slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He smiled down at you and moved your panties to the side, slipping two fingers into your glistening cunt. “God baby, you’re dripping all over my hand,” his dirty words only made you grow wetter. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers scissoring you open, prepping you for his cock. Once he felt you were ready, he slipped his shorts down and brought the tip of his dick to your entrance, gathering up your slick for an easy slide. He slid inside you with a practiced ease, both of you groaning at the feeling. He wasn’t lying, you were really wet. You didn’t think this would turn you on this much.
“Good?” He whispered into your ear. The sweetness in his voice contrasting his lewd actions. 
You nodded again, biting your lip to keep the moans from escaping. He was filling you up so well, the feeling of his throbbing cock almost too much for you. You both went back to watching the movie, but neither of you could really focus on the screen, relishing in eachother’s warmth. 
Halfway through the second movie, Hoseok’s hands started to wander, one of them resting on your bare thigh. He was drawing small circles on the skin, heightening your pleasure even more. He adjusted his body slightly behind you and a whine involuntarily slipped out of your mouth. “Yeah?” You could hear the smirk in his tone as the hand on your thigh snaked around your front and dipped into your panties, pointer finger immediately finding your incredibly swollen clit, “Damn baby, did having my cock in you turn you on this much?” 
You nodded, face flushing at his dirty words. “It’s ok,” he kissed your cheek sweetly when his words were anything but, “I’ll fuck this pretty little pussy til you’re screaming.”
He kept his promise that night, that’s for sure.
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You and Namjoon had amazing sexual chemistry, it’s one of the reasons your relationship worked so well. You were both open to trying new things and you hardly ever found a kink of the others that you didn’t enjoy. You just meshed well together. So when you asked Namjoon if he would want to try cockwarming he was totally onboard. You had just finished a romp in the sheets and were cuddling in your shared bed, about to fall asleep when you brought it up.
“You want me to just, put it in? And leave it there?” He wasn’t judging, just honestly curious, ready to please you.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s cockwarming,” you giggled, straddling his lap, cock already standing at attention again, “we can just like, lay here I guess?” To be honest, you weren’t sure how you were going to feel about it, but you wanted to at least try it. 
“Ok, are you sore? Do you need me to prep you?” You rolled your eyes, though you very much appreciated the kind nature of your boyfriend.
“I’m fine Joonie,” you murmured as you leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, “love you.”
“I love you too baby,” he smiled that beautiful dimpled smile you love so much. You smiled at him sweetly as you reached your hand down between your bodies and grabbed his thick length. Namjoon had one of the biggest dicks you’ve ever seen and this man knew how to use it. Just thinking about it made you wet. You lined him up with your entrance and teased your clit a few times with the tip, pulling a low groan from his lips. You smirked as you sank down on his length slowly, relishing in the way he stretched your tight walls. 
“Mmm,” you moaned, sitting straight up, speared on Namjoon’s cock. 
“Now what?” Your sweet boyfriend asked as you leaned down to rest on his firm chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his nose.
“This is it,” you said, pecking his cheeks and forehead, “we can fall asleep like this.”
“Fall asleep?” You chuckled at the wide eyed expression he was giving you, “I don’t think I can last more than 10 minutes like this.” He brought one hand up to push his still sweaty hair off his forehead. 
“Just relax, baby,” you soothed, right in his ear. Your breath was was tickling his ear and it was taking all of his restraint to keep from fucking up into your heat. You placed light kisses right behind his ear and down his neck, loving the soft mewls coming from his mouth. You knew what you were doing was teasing him, but you wanted to drive him crazy. This was no longer about cockwarming for you. The moment he entered you, you knew neither of you would last. 
He growled lowly and cupped both of your ass cheeks in his large hands. “I can’t hold back anymore baby,” you pulled back from his neck to look at him as he pulled back from your clenching pussy and slammed his hips back up into you, “Want me to fill you up again?”
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Jimin, your sweet, sweet boyfriend, was actually the one to bring up cockwarming. He had a long day at work, exhausted from all the extra work his boss asked of him today. When he got home he asked if you would take a bath with him, something the two of you did occasionally to relax. You agreed without hesitation, wanting to help Jimin calm down and unwind.
You filled up the tub and added in his favorite bath bomb that smelled like roses and even had some pieces of dried rose petals in it. The water was a pretty pink color when you poured in some champagne scented bubbles, your favorite. Once you were satisfied, you grabbed two big, white fluffy towels and deposited them on the closed toilet seat, awaiting the two of you for after your bath.
“Jimin!” You called downstairs, “Bath is ready!”
“Coming!” You heard him yell. You heard some shuffling in the kitchen and the clink of a dish being set in the stainless steel sink. You quickly undressed yourself, tossing your clothes in the laundry hamper just as Jimin walked in, eyeing your body. He looked tired, but you could still see the lust in his eyes at the sight of your nakedness. “You look incredible, baby,” his voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around your middle and smiled down at you, “thank you.” His plush lips met yours briefly before he was pulling away to shed his own clothes. 
You smiled giddily at him and you climbed over the side of the tub, waiting patiently for him to get in. You leaned over the side of the tub, arms crossed, as you admired the toned body of your boyfriend. He really did have a beautiful body, rock solid abs and thick thighs that you often daydreamed about. “Like what you see?” Your eyes snapped up to his smirking face as he caught you ogling. You blushed slightly before nodding, causing him to playfully shake his head. “Scoot over.”
Jimin climbed over the tub, slotting himself behind you, wrapping both arms around your chest. He leaned back pulling you with him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Let me wash your hair,” you tried to turn around but Jimin’s grasp on you tightened.
“Noooo, please baby, just let me relax,” you giggled at the whine in his voice, turning around slightly to see his eyes closed, face already a good deal more relaxed than before. The crease in his forehead is slowly going away. Jimin let out a heavy sigh before opening his eyes and looking at you lovingly, causing you to smile at him. When you did, you felt something twitch behind your back.
“Jimin!” You gasped, mock offense written on your face, “You’re supposed to be relaxing!”
“I am! I swear! It’s a love boner,” he smirked at you.
You rolled your eyes. “A love boner?”
“Yeah, you know when you love someone so much you get turned on? I swear I don’t want to have sex right now, I’m too tired.” You believed him, you could see how tired he was. 
You rubbed a soothing hand along the top of his thigh and nodded at him, turning back around. After a couple of minutes of laying together, you could feel Jimin’s cock hardening against you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel aroused at the feeling of his dick on your lower back, so close to your core. “Would you think I was weird if I asked you to cockwarm me?”
You were a little taken aback by the question, but you immediately felt arousal shoot straight to your clit at the thought of having him inside you right now. “Seriously? You want to?” You asked, no judgement in your voice, honestly excited at the possibility. 
“I mean, yeah - i- if it’s not too weird. I think it sounds kind of nice. Might help me relax”
You turned around and were quick to shake your head, “It’s not weird,” you smiled at him, “let’s try it.”
He let out a breath at your optimism, worried you’d say no. You turned around fully in his arms, straddling his lap, his hard member brushing against your slit as you settled yourself on him. You grabbed his cock in your hand and lined him up with your hole, looking him in the eye briefly to get his permission. He nodded once, giving you the go ahead, and you sunk down onto him slowly. You both let out a contented sigh at the feeling. It was a tight fit, not having any prep beforehand, but it felt good, the water helping with the glide. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to have sex. He really just wanted to feel you, be close to you.
“This feels really nice, YN,” he whispered, head falling back onto the porcelain of the tub, “I love you, kitten.”
“I love you too, Jimin,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his shoulder, both arms wrapping around his middle in a bear hug. 
“Mmm,” he murmured into your hair, “thank you.”
“Anything for you, my love.”
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You felt another rough slap to your ass cheek, the skin jiggling at the impact. “You’ve been a bad girl, doll,” Taehyung’s deep voice sounded behind you, “do you think you deserve to cum tonight?”
“Yes, sir,” you whined, “please.” 
You and Taehyung had been watching TV on the couch when you decided you were going to tease him by sitting on his lap and grinding into his crotch. You had been horny all night and you knew it would rile him up, which is exactly what you wanted.
“Hmm, I don’t think you do,” he growled, landing another slap to your already read ass, “teasing me, knowing what would happen. You dirty girl.” Tae currently had you nude, both feet planted on the hardwood floor, front bent over the arm of the couch. It was a rather exposing position. You could feel the cool air hitting your dripping pussy, begging to be touched in any way. 
Another slap. You jolted as two of Taehyung’s fingers dragged through your slit, spreading your lips to lewdly display your cunt to him. “So wet,” he drawled, “my doll loves to be punished, doesn’t she?”
“Yes - yes I do, sir!” You yelped as he gently slapped your pussy with his two fingers.
“Then I’m more than happy to punish you,” you heard the sound of a zipper, jeans falling to the ground, “all you had to do was ask.” You gasped at the sudden intrusion of his thick cock into your folds. Without warning Taehyung sheathed his full length inside of you, his long dick hitting your cervix in the best way possible.
“Taehyung!” 
Another slap, “Uh-uh doll. You wanted this,” he said with a false sweetness, “now stay,” he growled darkly.
“Wh-what?” What did he mean, stay?
“You wanted cock so badly, now you’ve got it. What? Not what you wanted?” He slapped your ass again, soothingly rubbing the burning skin after, “Too bad, doll.”
Was he cockwarming? You let out a low moan at the thought. You’ve never tried this before, but you could feel the gush of wetness that surged through your pussy at the idea of sitting here with his long, hard cock stretching your walls for God knows how long. 
“Yeah? You like that? Dirty, dirty girl. Gonna use you as my cocksleeve as I see fit.”
You moaned again at his nasty words. “Please sir, please use me!” You sobbed into the couch. One of his hands snaked around your front, thumb lightly pushing into your swollen, neglected clit. You screamed into the leather at the feeling.
“Can you cum like this?” His words were dripping in lust, you could tell he was gone. He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. He’s stayed stark still this entire time. “Cream my cock like this and I’ll fuck you into tomorrow.”
You whined into the couch again at the mere thought of his cock slamming into you over and over again. You concentrated on the feeling of his thumb putting pressure on your bud. He slowly added more pressure, and then released. He continued this pattern, putting heavy pressure on your clit and then removing it completely. It was such a weird feeling of stimulation and it was clouding your mind completely. You could feel the rubber band feeling tightening in your core every time his fingertip would push into your bud. It was too much, the pleasure was searing hot in your pussy as you clenched around his cock, letting the band snap.
“Ah! T-Tae!” You screamed, louder than he expected, causing him to jump slightly. The extra pressure on your g-spot caused your pussy to release all over Taehyung’s cock. The sight below him had his eyes glazing over as he watched you squirt all over him. The way your pussy lips were clenching around his dick sporadically as the liquid squirted onto his abdomen sent him into a frenzy as he pulled his cock out of you until you could just feel the tip, and slammed his hips back into you as hard as he could, “Taehyung!” 
“You are so,” he slammed into you again, “fucking,” and again, “hot, doll.”
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Your boyfriend was currently sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, playing Overwatch with Seokjin, his best friend. He had his headset on and was so hyper focused on the TV that he didn’t see you come into the room. Which means he also didn’t see your attire. Or lack thereof. 
You slowly walked around the back of the couch, hand trailing over the soft suede fabric. You had just woken up, it was past midnight and you didn’t know Jungkook had gotten home. He didn’t like to wake you up since he usually got home from his job super late. You were a little upset that his loud yelling had woken you from your dream. Not because it woke you up, per se, but because the dream you were having was an incredible sex dream about the very boyfriend who woke you.
You woke up with a light sheen of sweat on your body, pussy dripping wet and needing to be filled. So, you threw on a silk robe, nothing else, and ventured to find something to fill you up.
As you rounded the couch you stood in front of Jungkook enough that he would notice you, but not enough to block the TV screen from his view. You didn’t want him to get upset with you when you were so horny. You’d save that for a time when you wanted to be punished.
“Hey babe,” he uttered, monotone, still focused on his game, “sorry, did I wake you?”
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, not offering a response. After a moment Jungkook looked up at you, expecting to find you upset, but instead he was met with a look of pure lust. His eyes widened for a second before Seokjin was yelling in his ear, causing his eyes to snap back to the game. 
Now that he knew you were there, you decided to have a little fun. You let the robe slip from your shoulders, knowing he could see you from the corner of his eye. You walked over to him and sunk to your knees in front of him. He looked at you in shock, confused at your behavior, but not pushing you away. You looked at him for permission and he nodded quickly, making you giggle silently. You pulled his sweatpants and boxers down until they were around his ankles and grabbed his semi-hard cock, smirking to yourself. He was still playing, but his conversation with Jin had abruptly come to a halt. You languidly jerked his cock for a moment before leaning over and letting a glob of saliva fall from your lips onto his red tip. You spread the lubricant around for a moment, looking up to see Jungkook biting into his lip to keep his noises from reaching his friends ears. He looked down at you for just a moment and you held your finger up to your lips, reminding him to be quiet. 
You stood up slowly, turned around so you were facing the TV and grabbed your boyfriend's weeping cock, lining it up with your core, before sitting down on it. You could hear the grunt come from Jungkook behind you, but chose to ignore it as you leaned back into his firm chest. You let out a sigh at the feeling of being filled. This is exactly what you needed. You were still tired enough from sleep that you didn’t need more stimulation than this. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you was enough to satisfy you until he was done playing. 
To say Jungkook was confused was an understatement. Were you really cockwarming him right now? He’s always wanted to try this with you, and actually had a fantasy where you did this while he was playing video games. He thought he was dreaming for a second until you leaned back into him and your signature cherry blossom scent surrounded him. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a second, collecting himself before continuing to play his game. In his fantasy, he would be able to keep himself quiet and play while you sat obediently in his lap. He was going to take advantage of the situation that had quite literally fallen into his lap. 
He continued to play his game, at the end quickly telling Jin that he would see him tomorrow and ripped his headset off, tossing it on the other end of the couch.
“Baby?” He placed both hands on your sides, rubbing soothingly up and down, “Is everything ok?” He was honestly a little worried about you, you weren’t usually this assertive.
“You woke me up from a sex dream,” you uttered, eyes closed, “fix it.”
He chuckled at your admission, kissing up your shoulders and neck. “It better have been about me.” He growled playfully.
“Of course it was. Now fuck me, please.”
“Gladly.”
2K notes · View notes
dandelion-vines · 3 years
Note
Hello! I love the public bus scene so much, so here's another prompt for it: either Geralt or Jaskier is filming a porn with his people inside the bus while the remaining one of the two just entered the bus and gets pulled in to join them (can have him be unwilling or not)
Something insanely hot about slutty Geralt. Virgin kink, age difference, transmasc jaskier, genitals referred to as clit and cunt, exhibition kink, cunnilingus, handjobs
--
Cold bites at Geralt’s skin as he holds onto the pole of the bus. It’s stupid cold, and his shorts barely cover his ass, much less the length of his legs. It’s a simple enough scene, though, he has to jack off on a bus; he’s done a lot worse, and besides, they’ve rented out the bus entirely.
Or at least, he thought they had till a kid walks up the two steps, confusion written on his face before his eyes train on Geralt with his legs spread widely and a hand shoved down the front of his pants. “Fuck,” he whispers, shock in his eyes as he looks away, “I’ve obviously got the wrong bus, sorry,” he laughs nervously and begins to walk away.
Geralt’s already on his feet. He can feel eyes bore into his back as he walks towards Jaskier, shorts unbuttoned, torso bare. He cups his cheeks as blue eyes stare up at him, and draws him into a kiss. He doesn’t know why, just that this boy is insanely adorable, with his wind-tousled brown hair and silken button down and bashfulness. “Do you wanna stay?” Geralt asks, wrapping an arm around the boy’s face— because he really is a boy, isn’t he? Barely seventeen, probably while Geralt’s nearing thirty eight. It only spurs to turn him on more.
The kid’s lips hinge open and close, and Geralt chuckles at how adorable he is before he draws him into another messy, filthy kiss and begins to unbutton his shirt.
He can hear shuffling behind them, likely lighting and cameras being re-positioned now that he’s towards the front of the bus. “Who are you?” Jaskier asks, letting Geralt rub warm palms up his side and down his front.
“You can call me Wolf, pup. I do porn.” Jaskier blinks up at him and fucking whimpers.
“Yes, Wolf,” the pup replies dutifully. Geralt’s hands go to Jaskier’s jeans, palming between his legs. “I—” he squeezes his thighs together around Geralt’s hand, knees turning inward as his hands slip down to hold Geralt’s wrist. “I’ve never been touched,” he whispers, blushing bright red as Geralt gently thumbs over his clit. “What the fuck am I doing here,” he mutters, nose scrunching up. Geralt can tell that he’s melting into doubt and quickly finishes unbuttoning his pants.
His cunt’s dripping, swollen and flushed and from where Geralt’s been rubbing him through his pants. Geralt falls to his knees in front of him, gently guiding away the boy’s hands when they come to cover himself up. “Wolf— are they recording us?”
“Yeah,” Geralt mutters. He makes sure to arch his back before he leans forward, presses kisses up the kid’s thighs, closer and closer to his weeping cunt. Geralt doesn’t know the last time he’s had a virgin and the thought that the pup’s untouched, all for him, makes him feel heady. A hesitant hand gently settles sweetly in Geralt’s hair, and he smiles into the kid’s inner thigh. He generally hates having his hair pulled, and the gentle patting has him melting into the kid’s touch.
He uses the tip of his tongue trace the lips of the boy’s pussy, listening to his breath hitch. “Wolf,” he sighs, looking ahead of him and at the cameras. The kid looks fucking debauched, flushed and pink, his shirt’s half unbuttoned to show off the thick hair on his chest and the way his pants and boxers are shoved down to his knees. He makes such a pretty sight that Geralt knows he’ll be jacking off to this for fucking months.
Geralt licks up the pup’s pussy, tongue broad as Jaskier moans when his tongue catches on his clit. Fingers keep petting through Geralt’s hair as if comforting him; he smiles into the kid’s skin. Truly, he’s just too sweet, Geralt almost can’t take it.
He picks up his pace, flicking his tongue and lapping between folds as Jaskier’s legs shake and he simply holds on. The boy sobs as Geralt’s tongue circles his clit, on the brink of overstimulation as he works in a single finger into his cunt.
“Wolf, please,” he whines, inanely cute as he tries to squeeze his legs together. He’s close, Geralt can tell. He stops before the kid cums and gets back to his feet.
“What’s your name?” Geralt’s voice is rough, as if he’s been the one licked senseless— gods, what’s this kid doing to him?
“Jaskier. Will— will you—”
“Jaskier.” Geralt smiles, looking at the stuttering mess of a boy in front of him. “Do you want to cum, boy?” Geralt towers over him despite them being nearly the same height. Jaskier nods, licking his lip. And Geralt grins, wolfish. He takes the boy’s hand and places it on his own dick, sighing at the warmth of his skin. “Care to get me off, then?”
The boy’s hand is hesitant, exploring and curious as his fingers brush up the side of his cock and thumb over his pink, dripping cockhead that peeks up the waistband of his shorts. “That’s good,” Geralt praises, “my good boy, aren’t you?” Jaskier sinks to his knees, blue eyes peering up at Geralt.
“Your good boy,” he echoes, nervously biting his lip. He eases Geralt’s cock out of its confines, eyes widening marginally at the size of it before he grows adorably determined. His hand barely fits over the width of his dick as he smooths down the ridiculous amount of precum that’s dripped.
Geralt groans at the tight, wet heat of his hand as Jaskier explores, tracing veins with the pads of his fingers and trails a light brush all the way down to his balls. He starts stroking then, looking back up at Geralt to gauge his reaction, and grins so fucking brightly when he sees Geralt’s face twisted in pleasure. Geralt finds himself wanting to see that smile till the end of time.
His hand slips between his own legs, playing with his cunt as he builds up rhythm with Geralt’s cock. It’s the hottest fucking thing Geralt’s ever seen. He’s so fucking close, hasn’t been on edge since he was a decade younger and when Jaskier presses a shy kiss to his cockhead, Geralt cums with a shout.
Jaskier gasps as cum lands on his face, and Geralt uses the half a mind he’s got left to grunt at him to close his eyes before he’s fisting his cock desperately and squeezing out every bit of cum from himself and dripping it over the boy’s face.
“Fuck, he grunts. When’s the last time he’d cum so hard he couldn’t breathe. A quiet tug to his shorts pulls him out of his thoughts; Jaskier holds the fabric in a loose grip, one eye squinting up at him as cum drips down his face. Geralt swears again, and sees to getting he face cleaned up with a cloth. As hot as it is to see the boy wearing his cum, he knows that this is the kid’s first time and wants to make it as pleasant as he can for him. By personal experience, Geralt knows that getting semen into your eyes is absolutely no fun.
“You did so good, kid,” Geralt mutters, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head when he’s all clean. “Do you want your reward now? For being such a good boy for me?” Jaskier blushes red as he looks past Geralt’s shoulder and at the camera and directing crew, as if he’s really realizing for the first time that he’s having his virginity taken in front of other people by a fucking porn star. He turns back to Geralt, so adorably embarrassed but nods yes anyway.
His knees are pink when he stands, and Geralt’s palms return to his sides as backs him up against a wall of the bus. “I’m going to get you off with my fingers, is that alright?” Jaskier nods, too far gone for words.
It’s stupid easy to get him off; he cries out when Geralt touches him again, fingers digging into Geralt’s arm. One of his hands trails to grip Geralt’s wrist again, to keep it in place as Geralt fingers his weeping cunt and plays with is clit. He squeezes his knees together as he cums, eyes squeezing shut as he tenses and shakes through his orgasm— Geralt works him through it until his little clit is too sensitive to the touch.
“Wolf,” he stutters out, and falls into Geralt’s arms when he tries to take a step. The cameras cut from behind them, the crew beginning to pack up.
“Where were you going, Jaskier?” Geralt asks him, sitting them both down on a seat. The boy’s still shaking slightly, curling into Geralt’s chest from where he’s rested in his lap.
“Home,” he whispers. One of his hands slink back between his legs, and he buries his head into Geralt’s neck in embarrassment as he touches himself again. Insatiable, but then again, Geralt remembers being seventeen.
Geralt eases his hand away and starts stroking his clit between his thumb and forefinger, casual as Jaskier shudders and tucks himself closer.
“Do you want me to take you, pup?”
Blue eyes peer up at him, legs squeezing together.
“Y-yeah.”
54 notes · View notes
whump-town · 3 years
Text
It’s A Wonderful Life
Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five.
I’m actually pretty proud that I finished a multi-chapter for once...
There is something stirred deep within Derek Morgan by this shattered knife-like mosaic disaster. He thinks in spirals about his father. Mostly of little Jack and how Morgan wasn’t much older than him when his own father died. He thinks about the events that took place in his life without a father there to guide him, of the trespasses beseeched upon him for being a foolish lost little boy. Nightmares stir up and Carl Buford makes his hold on Morgan’s life known once again. And yet, stead-fast curiously planted, Jack remains and Morgan promises to never let anyone hurt this boy. Not like he was hurt and not like Hotch was hurt.
Never. So long as there is breathe in his lungs.
He sees the dust the other’s kick up, as well. The ease with which Emily takes on caring for Jack. Seemingly never blinking as the boy bounces from needs-- frantically pulling at his shirts, kicking his shoes off, hitting his head, or ears. She breathes and soothes him until he can find her calm in himself and together they cut tags out of pants or she carries him so he doesn’t have to wear his shoes or finds the soundproof earmuffs in the bag so he can’t hear all the sounds. Sometimes she just lets him scream until he feels better because she wants to fucking scream too. And on more than one occasion he’s caught them both doing just that.
They’ve all taken to their new little mindless tasks. Eat breakfast. Sit with Hotch. Having lunch together half after one. Mind Jack. Have Dinner. Routine, each with their own, drilled into their bones until they feel less like profilers and more like grievers. The unbalance of one of their tasks is detrimental.
Two days after the accident, Hotch has surgery. Metal rods set to stabilize his ribs, to fix his flail chest, and the promise of his return burns like smoke in their lungs. But there is no magic moment like they’d hope for. To hear his voice or see him through a moment of clarity. There is no gradual getting there.
The first memory: the hospital. He hates the smell and the lights and the tube down his throat. He’s been intubated so many times throughout his life that he considered there should be an eventual immunity to the swollen, tightness-- he thought they’d at least have figured out how to make it so this doesn’t hurt so much. Overwhelmingly, he feels the itch to find some sort of grounding from his surroundings. But hospitals have this silence that is so loud. A crawl on spider legs that creeps its way up way until it’s staring you right in the eyes. There is nothing here and as he feels his heartbeat start to chip at his chest, he lets go.
The second, third, maybe even fourth, fifth, and sixth memories are snapshots. The briefest moments between the intense agony on his chest and their muted comforts. Dave’s palm on his face, suddenly making him too aware of the machine pulling and pushing air into his lungs. It’s too fast, he can’t keep up. Emily’s thumb rubbing up and down his knuckles, he sees her face for only a moment. She smiles, stiff and unnatural. Morgan sleeping. He’d pulled a chair to at the end of Hotch’s bed, moved it so they’re facing one another.
The next solid memory is a water bottle. He feels the plastic label scratching against the sensitive skin on his forearm, a water bottle wedged between his arm and his hip. He turns his head, a tiny movement, and sees JJ in the visitor’s chair. Her feet are kicked up on the edge of the bed and mindlessly pressing a Twizzler to her mouth. Eyes wide as she reads the book in her lap. There are very few moments in his life so natural, so calm. For a moment, there is no ache, no pain. Just Jennifer Jareau and the transfixing beauty of shock smacked across her face.
She’s pretty, he doesn’t think anyone really tells her that.
Days, hours, minutes-- time passes and he has but loses strands to hold onto.
Cough. The head of the bed is raised, his ribs ache, and pulse within his chest. Shifting. He gags painfully around the tube, squeezing the bedsheet beneath him with all his might, as the tube scraps up the back of his throat. Cough. He can not remember being prepared for the extraction, just the end. The people around him pushing and pulling at him. The end of the tube comes free and he realizes they’ve been guiding him along. Easy, easy. Someone pulls a mask up over his face, the strap pulling at a scab near his ear. It doesn’t hurt-- his lungs feel like magma.
He doesn’t speak. He’s not sure if he can but even if he could he would not speak the words threatening to come spilling out. It’s all he’s ever wanted, never once does he have to ask for touch. It comes bountifully but still, he craves more, resisting the urge to ask for more. On dangerously baited breathes he waits for it, the immense relief that he gets is enough to allow him to sleep deeply for hours. Never a nightmare in a sight. They touch like they are afraid he will pour like water from their cupped hands and he is grateful for the reclaiming of his body. He’s uncertain he is really there until they touch him. Until a knuckle brushes his cheek or a hand squeezes his fingers.
He is here. Despite the way death clings to his tired bones, he can feel the will-full breathes he draws in. The heart in his chest. The hurt. Decisive pain. Living pain.
Reid is curled up in one of the waiting room chairs, a blanket pulled up and around him-- even over his head. Hotch watches him silently for several minutes. Soothed by Reid’s soft, thoughtless rocking as he reads. The only solid, real noise the brush of his fingers over the old softened pages of his book.
He can’t escape the pain and he shifts, jaw clenched to refrain from making a noise. It’s intense, the deep stabbing pain along his ribs and sternum. Enough to make his breathing stutter, holding it to prevent his chest from moving and incurring the pain.
“You have to breathe.”
Hotch turns his head, quick laborious breathes to try and stifle the pain.
Reid struggles for a moment to decide what to do but he knows what Emily or Dave would do and so he takes Hotch’s right hand. He holds it tight, applying deep pressure. “Hotch, you had a pneumothorax and a thoracic surgery--” that’s probably not helpful. He doesn’t know what to say. “I know it hurts,” Reid offers. “Can I-- Is there-- Let me get a nurse.”
Reid tries to turn away but Hotch chokes on a panicked exhale, squeezing Reid’s hand. Hotch shakes his head. “No, no,” he’s wheezing, struggling to breathe, and needs a nurse but Reid can’t bring himself to move away. “I’m okay.” Hotch pinches his eyes shut, focusing all his attention on slowing his breathing back down. “I’m okay.”
“Emily’s going to kill me.”
The pain has not ebbed away in the slightest but with some control, with Reid’s hand still tightly gripping his own, the cloud of haze melts away. Forcing his eyes back open, willing his body to ease and stop tensing in the hopes that the pain might go with it. “Emily?” he asks. His mouth fumbles with her name and he slurs but Reid nods.
Out of all of them, Reid has been at the hospital the least. He hates them. The noises, the cold chill, the desperation… So, yes. Reid knows that Emily is probably going to kill him because just as she’d walked out for the evening, and he’d come in she’d commented that Hotch seemed more reactive. And that if Hotch woke up while Reid was thereafter she’d spent hours and days with him, she was going to be livid.
In the same way, Dave is going to be frustrated. Not mad at Reid just… put off. Exasperated for the ability to make contact with him after all this time. They’re all itching to have him back.
“Yeah,” Reid finally answers. “She--” he looks down the tile, a flush of heated warmth spiking up his face. “We,” he corrects. “We missed you.”
Hotch, breathes shallow but calm, is trying to fight the gallons of warmth being dumped into his arm. It stings but he can not fight it. “I missed you too,” he whispers.
Reid stands right there, afraid to move, and shattered the calm falling over Hotch. Even long after he knows Hotch has fallen asleep. He does not tell anyone about this interaction. He keeps it for himself and hopes Hotch doesn’t remember. It’s likely he won’t.
He doesn’t wake the next day, at all. Not even a little bit of a stir. He was really, really out of it and that’s saying something because Derek came and about an hour into his stay he got up to go to the bathroom and kicked the bed. Hard. His explosive “fuck” echoed but Hotch didn’t budge an inch.
Visiting hours are coming to a close when he does wake up the next day. Numb-- to the point that his body feels removed and it’s not until Dave sets a hand on his leg that he feels rooted, here. His tongue is thick, hard to maneuver, but with Dave’s attention on the puzzle book in his hands, he has the time needed to speak.
“Where’s Jack?”
Dave doesn’t look up from his puzzle, just raises an eyebrow to communicate Hotch has been heard. After a moment, Dave hums and circles a word he’s found. “Hmm,” he shuts his book and turns to Hotch. Overjoyed, truly, to hear the other man’s voice after all this time but hesitant to communicate that. He doesn’t want to overwhelm him. “Jack is with Derek tonight but Jessica in the morning.”
Hotch nods, already feeling the weight settle back over his chest.
“You feeling okay?” Dave asks, reaching over and putting his hand on Hotch’s knee. He’s paled and Dave can see the pain lines breaking out over his forehead. His lips parting as he fogs the oxygen mask over his face. In the end, he hasn’t the control to verbally confirm that he’s okay. So he just nods. Dave isn’t stupid. “Tell me what’s wrong,” Dave stands.
His hand moves from Hotch’s knee to the side of his head, the palm of his hand meeting the edges of Hotch’s sweat-soaked hair. Even in his sleep, Hotch can’t escape the pain. It kills Dave to be brought so helplessly to his knees.
“I’m cold.”
Dave pulls the one small blanket they’ve allowed him up to his shoulders but does nothing for his pale arms bare and broken out in painful goosebumps. “I know,” Dave whispers. “I know.”
Dave stands there for a long while, holding Hotch as close as he can. Watching Hotch fall back asleep, whimpering just slightly as he falls back under and loses his control.
The next day, Dave comes in finds Emily. He should have known it was only a matter of time before she and Hotch get back into their normal transactions. He’s still not certain if he prefers when they get along (and wreak havoc) or when they sit at each other’s throats. For now, he can just watch them from afar.
Emily is sitting on the bed, the head of which is raised. She’s sitting facing Hotch, both her legs pulled up so they’re tucked against her chest as the two talk. “I’m not saying you’re wrong,” she defends. “You just… certainly aren’t right.”
His eyebrows furrow, the paleness of his face highlighting the cuts and scrapes still trying to heal along his skin. “That’s saying I’m wrong,” he rasps.
She shrugs, “I’m trying to be nice to you, okay? You have a brain injury. Just… don’t get used to it.”
Dave leans against the doorway. This is the most interactive Dave’s seen Hotch in days. Even if he’s sunk down into the bed, watching more than interacting with Emily from behind tired eyes. She doesn’t seem to mind and it’s hard to imagine being bothered with his lack of participation with the weeks they’ve faced.
“Oh,” Hotch hums. “Emily Prentiss being nice, that’s new.” Then he frowns, having properly comprehended what she said. “I don’t have a brain injury, Emily.”
She rolls her eyes. “I am nice to other people, you know? People who don’t annoy me.” That’s the humor, the part Dave loves most about watching the two of them interact (well, when they’re not annoying the shit out of him with the constant arguing-- he never had children but he imagines that the two of them at their worst are exactly what it’s like to have two children). Emily says that Hotch annoys her, she messes with him, she plucks his nerves, and here she sits with his hand in her own. Holding on because she’s afraid to let go.
“And maybe you don’t have a brain injury right now but I’m certain someone dropped you as a baby.” She shakes her head, “that’s saying you were held.”
Hotch doesn’t react and if he or she were different people that comment would sting but she knows his history and he just squints his eyes at her. “You talk a lot of smack for someone whose senior prom date stood her up for her ex.” His head is starting to pound, right on his left temple. He doesn’t want to stop talking though. Doesn’t want Emily to leave and have the room sink back into the cold loneliness of before. He’s afraid of it.
“Hotch!” Emily chides. “I told you that while I was drunk! I was being vulnerable.”
Dave enters the room on that note, frowning in faux betrayal. “You two drink without me?”
They both turn in surprise to see Dave, neither look guilty nor even like they feel bad. Emily nods, “you left for three weeks while you dated that attorney, Dave. You think we just… stopped doing things because you weren’t there?” She raises an eyebrow but Dave’s face says it all. Yeah, obviously. “Dave, Hotch wouldn’t leave his house if I didn’t drag him out.” And, frankly, they’re her closest friends. She loves girl’s nights with JJ and Garcia but there is just so much talking.
With Dave and Hotch there is no need. Dave will do 95% of the talking leaving her to lean against one of them and sit in the comfort. You have to have a balance. That being said, neither Dave nor Hotch has ever helped her pick out a face mask and taught her how to curl her bangs away from her face so…
“It wasn’t my idea,” Hotch offers.
Emily glares at him.
“Of course it wasn’t,” Dave mumbles.
The visit, as fun as it is, comes to an end far sooner than he wants it to. But they can see he’s in pain. Emily climbs off the bed but he doesn’t let go of her hand. She stops for a moment, looking desperately at Dave. She bends back over the bed, resting her forehead against his. “Get some rest,” she says, carding her fingers through his messy hair.
Hotch hates being like this. The constant in and out. The complete lack of autonomy and most of that being at his own fault-- his own inability to do anything. To tell them that he hates being alone. That he can suffer some more just please don’t leave but the nurses come again and Emily forces their hands apart.
And he’s left to sink back into the drugs, wondering when he’ll escape this hell.
Derek Morgan conspires a plan-- Connect Four. It was his favorite game to play with his sisters and now he’s going to teach Jack.
“I’m going to beat your ass,” Emily informs him as soon as she sees the box. She had overnight duty with Jack and the trade-off still isn’t for another two hours but Morgan thought she could do with a distraction. Jack’s an angel, a little loud at times but mostly wiped out. All this movement is overwhelming. Still, it’s hard to do any of this alone and it gives them a new appreciation for what Hotch and Jessica must do every day.
Morgan doesn’t respond to her, just squats down beside the chair she’s sitting in to see Jack. The kid is sleeping against her chest, legs pulled into her lap. He has a hat pulled down over his ears and soft little green overalls. No shoes but he imagines those are just kicked off somewhere in the room. “How are they?” he asks.
Emily sighs, shaking her head and giving a minimal shrug to not wake Jack. “Poor baby didn’t sleep at all last night,” she informs him sadly. The thought distresses her and she stops a moment to rub Jack’s back, comforting herself with the weight of him settled against her. “He was crying for Hotch…”
Morgan nods his head, so that’s why she’s here. They had all more or less agree to keep Jack away from the hospital. It’s got potential sensory issues written all over it-- deprived walls, the beeping, the yelling… So, when he sent her a text to ask who’s house she had ended up staying at last night (her own, Dave’s, or maybe Hotch’s) so he could drop by he’d been taken by surprise at her answer to being here.
She’d been worried, at first, by this decision as well. Jack had sobbed all night, screamed his throat raw. She could do nothing but offer him things in place of the father he obviously wanted. So, as soon as she could she took him back. Jack had been a little taken aback by the sight of his father laid out like that but after a stiff moment, the small boy sniffled and hummed to himself. And that seemed to settle it.
He was gentle and listened when Emily told him “stay away from Daddy’s chest, Jack. He’s hurt, okay?”. With a yawn he tucked his face into Hotch’s stomach, half his body over Hotch’s right hip-- Emily only let him settle down once she was sure there were no open wounds or other injuries she could recall to that leg. And he was out like a light.
Hotch is still rather in and out, too unaware to really rely on him to wake up. They try not to hold it against him but it does sting a little when he’s alert to talk to some of them but not all of them. Neither Garcia nor Derek have spoken to him yet. That does bother them because it’s hard to believe he’s okay if they never see that themselves.
Connect Four is a hit.
“Allow me to consult my second chair.” Emily crouches down beside Jack, cracking a bit in her playful seriousness when Jack giggles as she takes his shoulders in her hands. “What do we do?” she asks him. She plays into looking hopeless, really searching for an answer from him. “Jack, please, I need you!”
Lifting him up into her arms she watches him look their board over with all the seriousness someone of his age can muster. He clicks his tongue happily as he does so, squinting his little eyes as he really thinks. He looks just like Hotch for a moment, that focused frown.
“Here,” Emily gives Jack the yellow game piece. The room falls silent as Jack tries to figure out where to put the piece. Then, with a smile, he plops the yellow piece down and blocks Derek’s red pieces move to connect. “Yay!” Emily high-fives Jack, both cheering as Derek pretends to be utterly defeated.
As he sinks down in his chair Derek leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling and for some reason, he sneaks a glance over at Hotch. He snaps up, “Hotch.”
Hotch smiles, still a little groggy having just woken up, “you suck at Connect Four.” Hearing the sound of his father’s voice, gravely and strained but still his, Jack looks up too. “Hey, buddy.”
As afraid as Morgan is to overwhelm Hotch, he can’t help but crowd in as Emily lowers Jack to the bed. All three gently reminding the overcited boy to be careful. Jack flusters for a moment, clicking his tongue, and drawing his hands up to his chest. But Hotch moves his hand to Jack’s lap, unable to really raise it but he gets it just close enough to get the message across. Jack takes his father’s hand, rocking himself on the bed with an even brighter smile.
“Did you beat Uncle Derek at Connect Four?” Hotch asks, glancing at Morgan as he asks.
Jack looks at Morgan too and nods, a mischievous little grin.
“Twice,” Morgan mumbles, reaching over and pushing Jack’s head. “Cheater.”
Hotch pats Jack’s stomach, smiling when Jack curls into his hand, leaning into him until his head rests on Hotch’s stomach. Hotch moves his hand to Jack’s head, gently brushing the hair back. He smiles content, despite the pain, for the first time since he woke up.
“He’s probably ready for a nap,” Emily informs him, rubbing at Jacks’ back when he heaves a big yawn. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”
Hotch nods, Jack’s never been a good sleeper. Jack just looks up at him, silent and still. “Are you sleepy?” Hotch asks, cupping Jack’s cheek. Jack turns, pressing his face into Hotch’s stomach rather than answering which is typically a yes. “Come here,” he whispers.
“Hotch--”
“He’ll be fine,” Hotch assures them. He motions Jack up and sitting up, Jack listens. Yawning as he crawls up the side of the bed and settles close. Worming under his father’s instruction against his side, head just below Hotch’s clavicle. It does hurt. His arms aren’t very mobile and Jack is putting just the right amount of pressure on his side but… he hasn’t held his son in weeks.
Jack falls right to sleep.
“Leave him,” Hotch whispers, after a while. “Go get some lunch, take a walk. We’ll be fine.” He turns his head to Jack, calmed by the familiar comfort of his son.
Morgan is adamant but Emily pulls a blanket up over them both, removing it from the conversation. “We’ll bring you both back something,” Emily tells him. She kisses Jack’s head and messes with Hotch’s hair before righting herself. She stops for just a moment, watching the two of them-- Jack clutching Hotch’s gown and Hotch obviously fighting sleep until the two of them leave.
“Morgan?”
Derek steps close to the bed, taking Hotch’s free hand.
“Thank you.”
His mouth dries and he nods, “of course, man. We all did our part.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Morgan shakes his head, “no. No, we did. That’s what you do for family.” Morgan clears his throat, and squeezes Hotch’s hand before letting it go and stepping back. “Get some sleep man. When that kid wakes up, it’s your ass he’s beating in Connect Four.”
Hotch can’t wait.
51 notes · View notes
sheerfreesia007 · 3 years
Text
Finding Love In Legacy Oaks pt. 11.5
Title: Finding Love In Legacy Oaks pt. 11.5
Fandom: Kingsman
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC
Author: @sheerfreesia007​
Words: 2,806
Warnings: Mention of injury
Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien
Author Notes: So this chapter was a little hard for me, I had difficulty with the whole Esme blaming herself scene. I know little kids can focus on being at fault for something that wasn’t their fault. I had difficulty trying to get Es to understand it. So any feedback would be nice.
Gif Credit: Google
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The hospital was buzzing with an energy that felt as if it was waiting for the next big catastrophe to roll through the emergency room doors before chaos imploded. Nurses walked through the emergency room area back and forth from the central desk to the patients’ beds. Bunny was laying in her hospital bed with her now deeply bruised right ankle propped up by some cushions as Esme sat next to her reclined back on the bed, they were waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of Bunny’s ankle x-ray. Her left hand and wrist were wrapped since the doctor advised that it was thankfully only sprained. The doctor did say she had a mild concussion and shouldn’t have any lingering effects but if she started to get dizzy or sleepy that she should come back to the hospital.
Bunny sighed softly as leaned back in the bed feeling Esme relax against her left side where she was curled up next to Bunny. She knew something was still bothering Esme, ever since they had arrived the little girl had been very quiet and keeping to herself. The nurses and doctors had come bustling in and out quickly when they had first gotten here, and while no one else seemed to notice Esme drawing inward on herself as she sat in the corner chair in the small space with the hospital curtains drawn around them to create some privacy. Bunny noticed though and was just waiting for the perfect time to talk to the little girl.
“So this was not how I planned our Friday evening.” Bunny said with a soft chuckle and felt Esme turn more into her side. “Talk to me kiddo, don’t keep it bottled up” Bunny insisted gently as she nudged Esme with her shoulder. Esme looked over at her before she began to pick at the light blanket that was resting over the two of them.
“I feel bad.” Esme said quietly and Bunny frowned gently at her words.
“What do you mean?” Bunny asked curiously as she leaned back in the bed.
“I feel like it’s my fault that you’re in the hospital.” Esme said softly and Bunny laid there just watching the little girl silently, she wanted Esme to talk through her emotions and feelings without her prompting her. “If I hadn’t chosen to roll down the hill Butter wouldn’t have gotten too excited and knocked you down the hill. And now the doctor said you have a concussion, your wrist is sprained and your ankle might be broken.” She said with full emotion and began breathing a little heavier as she got caught up in her emotions. “And if I hadn’t wanted to roll down the hill you wouldn’t be hurt or in the hospital!” Esme cried softly before taking in a deep breath.
“Okay, but this isn’t your fault Es.” Bunny reassured her and saw the look of disbelief on her face. Bunny thought for a moment before coming to a decision. “Can you predict the future?” Bunny asked suddenly and Esme looked at her with an incredulous look on her face.
“No.” Esme drew out the word in confusion as Bunny nodded her head.
“So you couldn’t have known that I was gonna get knocked down after we chose to roll down the hill right?” Bunny asked and looked quietly at Esme.
“No, but-“ Esme began to explain but Bunny held up her hand and interrupted her.
“Just answer the question Es. I promise I have a reason for asking these questions.” Bunny said softly.
“No I couldn’t have known that.” Esme said a little petulantly and Bunny nodded her head.
“Did you cause me to get knocked down? Did you push me down the hill?” Bunny asked softly and Esme jerked her head back and looked at Bunny in bewilderment.
“No I didn’t push you. But me choosing to roll down the hill caused you to get knocked down.” Esme insisted.
“How? Explain to me how you choosing to roll down the hill caused me to get knocked down it.” Bunny gently led Esme along in her though process.
“If I hadn’t wanted to go down the hill then we wouldn’t have been up there and you wouldn’t have gotten knocked down.” Esme said with sadness in her voice.
“You’re right we wouldn’t have been up there if we didn’t want to roll down the hill. But Es you wanting to roll down the hill did not cause this. If you want to place blame, blame me or Butter.” Bunny insisted. “Butter was the one who knocked me over so really it’s his fault since he knocked me down. But Es it was an accident he didn’t mean to knock me over he just got too excited and he’s a dog he doesn’t know any better.”
“But-“ Esme tried to explain again and Bunny shook her head.
“I’m going to have to find a different way to explain it to you because you’re not understanding. I know you feel bad and that’s okay. You can feel bad for me. But please don’t blame yourself. It sucks it happened and all we can do is just deal with the best we can.” Bunny said resolutely and Esme sighed softly.
“Bunny?” Esme asked softly and Bunny turned to her silently to gaze down at her. “I’m still going to feel bad but I understand that I didn’t cause you to get knocked down. I just feel like I could’ve stopped it from happening.” Esme said solemnly.
“It’s possible but then you wouldn’t have had fun. Look you’re going to make choices as you grow up and sometimes they work out great and everything goes the way you want it to. But sometimes things get messed up and they don’t go the way you want them to. Unfortunately there’s nothing we can do to predict how things will happen, we’re just along for the ride. You just gotta make the best of it kiddo.” Bunny said sagely and Esme gazed towards the end of the bed thinking quietly.
“Oooooh now I get it.” Esme said softly and Bunny burst out laughing at how shocked Esme sounded. “I still feel bad though.” Esme said resolutely and Bunny nodded her head as she wiped tears from her eyes from her laughter.
“That’s fine kiddo.” Bunny said easily and suddenly her phone her began to ring with video call ringtone. Bunny felt her stomach drop. “Oh shit.” She hissed as she reached for her phone hearing Esme gasp next to her. “Don’t repeat that! It’s a bad word. I forgot to call your Dad when we were in the ambulance.” Bunny said quickly as she pointed at Esme and cringed. Picking up her phone she held in front of her and Esme and grimaced when she saw that her screen was cracked in several places making it difficult to answer the call. “Heeeey Jack!” Bunny said guiltily as she held the phone out so that both she and Esme were on the screen.
“Hey ladies, I haven’t heard from you in a while and I’ve been texting. Started to get a little worried.” Jack said as he frowned at the phone. “Hang on is there something wrong with the connection you guys look all wonky. And where are you two?” he asked confused as he stared at the phone.
“So about why you haven’t heard from us in a while.” Bunny said guiltily and Jack frown deepened.
“Are you in the hospital?!” he asked loudly suddenly as his eyes darted around the screen and his face grew larger on the screen as he leaned into his phone.
“Yeah we are.” Bunny said with a soft sigh. “But Es is fine. I was the one who got hurt not her.” Bunny quickly reassured him and Esme smiled as she took the phone from Bunny.
“Daddy I’m going to turn the camera around maybe it’ll look better that way. Hold on.” Esme said as she pressed repeatedly on the screen holding the phone up. “Can you see Bunny better now?” Esme asked from behind the phone and Bunny grimaced slightly.
“Yeah thanks Es. So what happened?” Jack’s voice came over the phone and Bunny relaxed back in the bed while Esme sat with her legs crossed at her side.
“So Butter knocked me down a hill that we were going to roll down. Instead of rolling down the hill I kinda bounced down it. Sprained my left wrist.” Bunny explained holding up her wrist to show him. “Possibly broke my right ankle, we’re still waiting for the doc to come back with the x-ray results.”
“Dang Bunny.” Jack said in an awed voice and Bunny nodded along to his words.
“Yeah I know.” Bunny said knowingly and chuckled softly. “Go big or go home right?” she asked sarcastically and Jack laughed still shocked.
“Are you in a lot of pain right now?” he asked curiously and Bunny shook her head.
“Not as much anymore they gave me some pain meds when we arrived. Said they’d probably subscribe some too just to help with my ankle. It’s swollen up like a balloon and looks like real ugly.” Bunny explained and Esme pointed the phone down to her ankle to show her Dad. They both heard his loud hiss as he saw what her ankle looked like propped up on the cushions.
“Bunny.” Jack said in an almost chastising tone and she nodded her head just as spotted a pair of black business shoes underneath the curtain.
“Knock, knock!” called the doctor. Bunny smiled softly as she shook her head, Doctor Hart smiled brightly as she eased herself in between the curtains and stood at the end of Bunny’s bed. “Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain.” she said in greeting and Bunny chuckled softly at the reference as Esme tilted her head to the side in confusion.
“I don’t get it.” Esme said softly to Bunny making both Bunny and Jack burst out into laughter.
“Oh I’m sorry to interrupt your phone call.” said Doctor Hart, surprised as she looked at Esme who was holding up the phone to still see Jack.
“I’ll explain later what she said.” Bunny said the Esme before shaking her head at the Doctor. “No worries, it's just her Dad checking in on us. Forgot to call him while we were in the ambulance.” Bunny explained away and Doctor Hart nodded her head before tilting it sideways like Esme had done.
“Is he not your husband then?” she asked and Bunny felt her face flush brightly as she shook her head.
“No, not married. Just friends and I look after Es here when he’s on work trips.” Bunny replied easily and Esme smiled at her as she cuddled close still holding the phone up to see Jack. Bunny watched out of the corner of her eye as Jack’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“Oh okay, that’s very nice of you to do. Well, results for your x-ray are in and it’s broken unfortunately. In three different places so you really did a number on it. Thankfully you won’t need surgery but we’re going to put you in a cast for a month and then we’ll reevaluate. Hopefully you’ll just need a boot after that for 2 more months.” explained Doctor Hart and Bunny nodded her head along with her words.
“So we’re looking at three months?” Bunny asked softly and watched as Dr. Hart nodded her head. Bunny’s mind began to race with everything that she had going on for the next three months and how she would be able to do them with a cast and boot on.
“Yeah it’s going to take at least three months, hopefully no longer.” Dr. Hart explained. Bunny nodded at Dr. Hart’s word and settled back further in the bed. “I’m going to have one of the orthopedic technicians come in and they’ll be putting the cast on your ankle. You’ll get a prescription for pain meds to ease any discomfort you might be feeling in the next few days. And I’ll schedule you for another appointment in a month to remove the cast. We won’t need to see you unless something happens to the cast or if you injure yourself further.”
Bunny nodded her head in understanding as Dr. Hart advised her on what she was to expect for the next couple of months. When Dr. Hart was done going over the medications that she would be prescribed, she told Bunny that she would go let the orthopedic technician know that they were ready for the cast now before walking out of the room.
Shifting in the bed to get a little more comfortable, Bunny gritted her teeth as a painful twinge raced up her ankle. Esme moved closer and held the phone up towards her face and Bunny could see Jack was still on the phone.
“Three months is an awfully long time for a broken ankle.” Jack said solemnly and Bunny shook her head in disagreement.
“I broke my wrist once and it took I think two months to heal so three months isn’t that far off I don’t think.” Bunny said as she moved her head around thinking about her prior broken bones.
“You broke your wrist once?” Jack asked, surprised as his face showed how surprised he was about that fact.
“Yeah, it was a few years ago. Broke my right wrist.” Bunny said shortly not wanting to explain any further about her prior injury, at least not yet.
“Huh, okay. Well don’t worry about anything Bunny we’ll help you with anything that you need. I’ll make sure that work understands I can’t be going out in the field for a while.” Jack said easily and Bunny began to shake her head at his words.
“Oh no, Jack. You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. Just move a little slower, that's all.” Bunny said regrettably.
“Don’t worry about it Bunny. They’ll understand. And now it’s my turn to help you. And I won’t hear anything about it because it’s happening.” Jack stated firmly and Bunny nodded her head slightly dejectedly knowing that she wouldn’t be able to dissuade Jack from helping her.
“Alright, alright.” Bunny relented and Jack nodded his head while smiling.
“So I should be home late tomorrow night. We’ve got one more conference meeting to go to tomorrow for a few hours but once we’re done I’ll be on my way home.” Jack said easily. “Do you guys have a ride home from the hospital or do you need me to call you a ride home?” Jack asked.
“No, Jeremy is going to be picking us up. I called him to come pick up Butter from us when the ambulance was on the way to us.” Bunny replied and watched as Jack nodded his head. Esme sat there quietly and Bunny could see her eyebrows furrow slightly.
“Oh okay good.” Jack said as he continued to nod his head. Just then there was shuffling heard behind the curtain of the room. “Alright ladies I’m gonna head out for a little bit but I’ll give you a call later on tonight.”
“Okay sounds good.” Bunny said as the orthopedic technician stepped through the gap in the curtains with a smile on his face.
“I love you Es, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.” Jack said softly as he focused back on Esme.
“Love you lots like jelly tots.” Esme said softly and Bunny smiled at the little girls’ words. Esme hung up the phone by pressing repeatedly on the broken screen and Bunny grimaced slightly.
“I’ll have to get a new phone this weekend.” Bunny said softly and Esme looked up at her as Bunny shrugged her shoulders.
“Hey there guys! So my name is Brian and I’ll be putting on your cast. Would you like to pick a color for your cast?” Asked the orthopedic technician as he wheeled in a bedside table with supplies to create a cast. Bunny looked over at Esme who looked back at her.
“You’ll have to ask my cast artist.” Bunny said fondly as she nudged Esme with her shoulder. Esme grinned softly at Bunny before turning to the technician.
“White, so I can draw and color on it.” Esme said confidently and Bunny smiled at how she was already making plans for what she would be drawing on her cast. Soon the technician was nodding along as Esme began explaining everything that she wanted to draw on Bunny’s cast all while watching how the technician began wrapping Bunny’s ankle. Leaning back in the bed Bunny gently shut her eyes and continued to listen to Esme talk with a soft smile on her face.
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blushnote · 4 years
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↳ requested | 1.1k words
↳ sub!junhui smut
a/n: i have thought about this exact concept multiple times and you just gave me a wonderful excuse to write it! happy birthday to the cutie pie gemini! 
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he’s breathtaking splayed out beneath you like this, so eager and needy. the anticipation of your control has him shivering and constantly licking his shiny, plump lips, his fingers kneading nervously into the sheets. with a soft touch, you brush some of the dark hair from his eye. your other hand strokes along his firm thigh to soothe him, especially as your heavy tip presses against his rim.
beforehand, you spent ample time with foreplay, ensuring that jun was stretched enough in order to handle the thick strap that would soon be snug inside him. seeing as it’s his birthday, and that this is something you’re both interested in trying, it only seems appropriate to gift him a pleasure he never knew fathomable. you cup his cheek and smile at him warmly,
“how do you feel, kitten? should i start pushing in?”
his complexion floods with a mild hue of pink. jun nods, his deep voice pervading the bedroom.
“please, mistress.”
once you start etching your hips forward, the strap slowly beginning to stretch past his lubricated entrance, jun’s arm flies over his face and his hard, swollen cock twitches against his abdomen. never before have you seen jun so shy. usually, he’s painted with a confident smirk, his eyes twinkling as he fucks you thorough into the bed or has your cum leaking down the edges of his satisfied face.
but now jun is whimpering, your thumb stroking back and forth over his rib until you’re completely flush against him and every inch of the strap is buried. assuming he might need a moment to adjust and bottom out, you remain still, your eyes trailing down to the small pool of cum that drips onto his skin, spilling little by little from his straining cock.
“put your arm down, kitten.” you tell him, helping him to gently uncover his face. “i want to see you, okay? mistress wants to see what a sweet boy you are, spread out just for me, so pretty and full.”
jun can’t stop nibbling upon his bottom lip. when he meets your gaze, there’s something inexplicably heart-throbbing about how glassy it is, how his dark brown eyes are gleaming with lust and a vital need to be satiated. jun’s fingers twist into the sheets when you make a low-tempo thrust, his head titling back and his adam’s apple rising sharply against his throat.
your thrusts gain more traction, and jun huffs loudly through his nose, as though he’s attempting to repress those seraphic, keening moans you know he can make. you lean over him and brace your arms next to his head, his dyed, wine red fronds bouncing while you continue to piston your hips.
“does this feel good, kitten?” you grunt, looking directly into his blissful eyes. “you like when mistress fucks you, hm?”
his hands touch your waist, though they fall away a second later, unsure of whether or not he’s allowed to hold you closer. you whisper to him that it’s okay, knowing jun still needs support, comfort, for his first time being pegged. undeniably, he’s handling it well, and as you add a little more arch to your thrusts, he can’t help but squirm. jun swallows thickly and whines out,
“y-yyes mistress, ff-feels s’good.”
“yeah?” comes your domineering, breathy laughter. “then let me hear you, kitten. don’t hide your noises. let mistress hear how pretty you sound when she’s fucking you like this.”
he seems to have some trouble articulating, and you wonder if the sensation of your strap striking his prostrate is just so unprecedented and mind-numbing that he can’t think straight. deciding to increase the pleasure, you shift a hand in between your bodies and curl it around jun’s aching cock, pumping him in timed strokes until it’s impossible for him to keep quiet.
“aa-ahh! m-mistress…” jun mumbles, his eyes bleary, “please… pl-pleease!” his spine is suddenly curving upward and he cries out in a beautiful, high-pitched tone. knowing that you’ve struck an incredibly sensitive spot, you lessen the pace ever so slightly to prolong the stimulation. you can’t help but smirk. he’s an utter gem in this position, mumbling and squirming beneath your power.
gauging his facial expressions, you play with the purplish head of his cock, squeezing it gently between your fingers and rubbing him while he weeps, tender in his every noise.
“does my pretty kitten want to cum all over mistress’ hand? does that sound nice, sweetheart?”
jun holds onto your shoulders, his nose scrunching and eyes fluttering shut the second you shift your pattern. rather than timely, smooth thrusts, you begin rutting hard at an upward angle, pushing your hips as far as possible, causing the boy’s body to slightly slide further up the bed. his jaw drops and his voice trembles in a loud drawn out moan. you jack him off with a slick, unforgiving pressure.
“mistress, please!” jun howls, his blunt nails scraping down your back, the cool air causing the marks to sting, “m’gonna— m’gonna cc-cum! r-right there, ff-fuck!  feels s-so good!” he begins rambling in pieces of different language, mostly in chinese, his eyes full of stars and drool on his chin.
stroke after stroke, you abuse the boy’s prostrate, euphoria and new, overwhelming whims of pleasure overtaking his body. a cherry red shade covers his cheeks as well as the teary trails, his bottom lip slightly tinged purple from the bruising. delivering a few more thrusts that contain all your energy and thrill, jun’s length begins to wildly throb in your palm and suddenly there’s ropes of his cum landing on your stomachs, and even his chest. he cries out your name in pure bliss.
“that’s my good little kitten,” you purr in between long-winded breaths, stroking his face, “look at you, baby. aren’t you so gorgeous with this cum all over your soft skin?”
“mmhm.” he slurs, gripping onto your hips, sparing a short glance down at your knuckles and how his arousal paints over them.
there’s a haziness to jun’s eyes as he twitches and pants in the afterglow, yet he manages to smile dreamily. dipping down, you press a kiss against every tiny mole on his face, your hand drawing attentive, ginger strokes up and down his cock to help him release all of his seed. jun whimpers quietly when you remove the strap. you note that he continues to quiver and fidget.
rubbing at his thigh, you promise that he’ll be well taken care of, especially on his birthday.
“don’t worry, kitten,” you lilt soothingly, “i’ll run you a bath and bring you another slice of cake.”
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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years
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Something Just Like This - CH12
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.
Warnings: Violence, a little NSFW
WC: 3847
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Dean calls Sammy on the way to the bunker as a way of distraction and also to update Sam on things. Sammy always wants Dean to update him on what’s happening, even though he’s out of the organization (because Dean wanted it that way) and Sam damn well knows that he shouldn’t know too much about all the things anyway, but he’s fucking stubborn. Dean sometimes wonders where his brother's stubbornness comes from.
To Dean’s surprise, Sam wasn’t really shocked about the Jo thing, he’s more interested in how Y/N ended up at Dean’s place and what’s happening between them. Dean couldn’t answer the questions even if he wanted to, mainly because he doesn’t know it himself. It’s all too new, and he still needs to adjust himself to feel all the things he feels. Doesn’t mean that it’s bad. It’s quite good actually, maybe too good, too.
As soon as he arrives, Dean storms through the bunker door and runs down the winding stairs. His steps echoed in the large space.
“Where is she?” He shouts out, his voice deep and loud as he hurries down where he knows she is. 
And that’s the thing, Dean knows exactly where Cas put her, it’s just courtesy of him to inform Cas so the other man can stop him from doing something stupid once he gets to Jo. And boy does he want to do something stupid, something his hands were itching to do since Y/N called him from Jo’s phone.
“Dean!” Cas calls out, breaking into a run to keep up with him. 
“Did she talk?” Dean growls, walking swiftly through winding corridors.
Cas has a hard time keeping up, almost trips but can save himself gracefully, “No, didn’t say a word,”
“That’s what I thought,” Dean arrives at the door to the dungeon and pushes it open, revealing Jo. The blonde woman is bound to a chair, her face bruised and swollen, and Dean guesses that Cas also has something to with it, and it wasn’t only Y/N who did this to her. He can’t help but feel a little proud of his girl. Well, not yet his, but it already feels awfully like she is.
His grip tightens around the gun he grabbed from his glove compartment before he entered the bunker, and he draws it from his holster as he hurriedly strides towards the chair Jo’s sitting on. He stops a mere inch from the blonde woman’s face, making her stare into the barrel of his Colt with wide eyes.
“What the fuck did you want from her, huh? Tell me, Jo!” Dean’s breathing hard, his heart is pounding out of his chest, adrenaline surges through his veins.
“Dean, don’t,” Cas says, “I mean, not now. Later, maybe.”
Jo chuckles, “Yeah, listen to Cas, Dean.”
Dean knows that Cas is right. He wishes Cas wasn’t though. 
Hesitantly, Dean lowers his gun, puts it back into its holster and walks around behind Jo, his fingers grab a handful of hair at the top of her head and pulls her head back forcefully, making Jo whimper in pain. He lowers his face to speak next to her ear, “What the fuck did you want her for?” 
“Ah,” Jo gasps, “You always liked it rough, didn’t you, Dean?”
“Fuck you,” He hisses, releases her head with a push, and walks around to the front again, “Just know something, alright? I really hate hitting women, and to be honest, I don’t think I ever did hit a woman in my life. But you? You really fucking deserve it.” He slaps her across her face with his left hand. It wasn’t that hard either. Not yet. He can’t go in too hard, he needs room to be able to step up his game.
Jo bites her lip in the process, blood drips down her chin, dropping onto her already stained shirt. She looks back to Dean, and he can see the corner of her lips curving up to a smirk, despite having just been slapped. She’s a feisty little bitch, he should have known. 
“Since when is it all about the girl? It’s not about me being a snitch anymore, is it?” Jo spits onto the floor, a mixture of blood and saliva. It almost hits Cas’ shoe who’s standing next to Dean, and as a protective measure, Cas takes a step back. “Oh Dean, what happened to you? You getting soft, ain’tcha? You hit me because of a damn girl you didn’t even fuck?”
Dean surges forward, places his hands around Jo’s throat and squeezes as he lowers his head and whispers into her ear, “You try that again, I won’t have a problem putting a bullet through your fucking head, Jo.”
“Uhh… Kinky,” Jo answers, her voice strained but still, she tries to talk, tries to rile Dean up, he knows, “Can you be as rough with her as you were with me, huh? I can imagine that she’s more a vanilla kinda girl. You’ll bore yourself to death with her, Dean.”
Dean chokes her more, making her look him in the eye and she’s already zoning out by the lack of air that reaches her brain. 
“The worst mistake I ever made, — and believe me, I regretted it every day — was letting you talk me into fucking you and not just once. It’s all on me, I get that,” Dean’s grip on her loses quickly to make her come back to her senses so she can still hear him, “And to tell you the truth? I didn’t even enjoy it, and your screams were a turn off. All I wanted was for you to shut your damn fucking mouth. Why do you think I fucked your face for so long and barely fucked you for real? Why do you think I’ve never once taken an item of clothing off? Because I wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could!”
Cas snorts out loud from the back.
“See? Cas knows what I’m talking about because I’m sure that you did the same to him too, tried to fuck your way up, didn’t you, Jo? And when it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to, you turned to Lucifer.” Dean lets go of her throat, letting her catch her breath. Jo coughs, her eyes are teary. 
She spits more blood onto the floor, “Fuck you!”
“What did he pay you to manipulate me, Jo, huh? Tell me how many cocks did you suck to land yourself a gig for him?” Dean snickers, “Did he promise you a place on his right side? You fucking know that if he wanted to, he could just sell you, right?”
Jo looks at him, and Dean could see the anger in her eyes, but there’s also something else — madness. Since when did she change? It’s like he doesn’t even see the real Jo any more, that’s not the girl Dean used to know.
“One thing is pretty clear. You won’t get out of this bunker.” Dean’s voice is low and steady.
Jo coughs some more before she returns to her poker face, “Ah, I like it here, you know. A fucking bunker! Why did no one tell me about it? You didn’t even trust me enough?”
“And we were right we didn’t,” Cas adds dryly. 
Jo starts to laugh, “You guys really think I’m the only snitch, don’t you? It’s so cute of you.” 
“What do you mean?” Dean raises his eyebrow. 
“What I said. There’s more than me. Lucifer just pays way more, you know? And I didn’t even have to suck cock for it!” She looks at Dean and damn winks. 
He slaps her again, harder this time. “You fucking greedy bitch,” 
“Jo, I would suggest that you talk or you’ll be dead. I highly doubt that you really want to die. And if it’s not us, then Lucifer for sure will kill you if he knows that we kept you and you talked to us, even if you won’t say jack squat.” Cas comes to stand next to Dean. 
“I need something before I talk, you fucking bastards!”
Dean looks at Cas and sighs, “Yeah, I agree. I need a fucking drink!” 
He has a feeling that it’s only the beginning of a long fucking evening.  
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  After Dean had left, Y/N dashes into her bedroom and grabs the case files she pushed under her bed to hide it from Dean.
Jesus, how stupid of her to leave them lying around while she was out. 
She hoped that Dean didn’t notice. She actually didn’t want him to come up here at all but he was so determined and she’s weak, she knows. Weak because she too, didn’t want to part from him. 
These fucking feelings, seriously. It’s going to jeopardize the whole operation, she just knows that they will. She’s never been so careless before, her line of work doesn’t allow that. She’s usually very professional. 
Usually. 
That’s before she met him. 
Maybe there’s a way out?  
Y/N sighs because she knows that there isn’t. At least not one that would leave both of them happy. Perhaps she could take that fall? Perhaps she could somehow get out of all this so that Dean can go on with whatever he’s doing? She’s sure now that he has a good heart and the vengeance she felt she needed… it’s not there anymore. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that her father is dead, she sees that now.
She cleans out her room as best as she can and hides the things she doesn’t want people — Dean in particular —  to see into her safe and locks it up before she looks around with her hands braced on her hips, admiring the work she did in cleaning up her apartment. 
Sending a text out to Linda after, she arranges for a meeting but before doing that, she’s going to take another shower. One that she needs because she’s all sticky down there and it would calm her heart, maybe it’ll also ease the aching between her thighs. 
In the shower, Y/N can’t help but think of Dean, smirks to herself, and blushes because how can she not. They kissed, and fuck, if it wasn’t nice she doesn’t know what is. Her heart flutters the more she thinks of him and instead of the water washing away the stickiness, her body just adds even more of that sticky sweet thing for her to wash away. 
While she washes herself down there, she braces her foot on the bathtub, is thankful for having a combined shower/bathtub thing because it makes being naughty in the shower so much easier. 
Y/N carefully slips a finger in, moans a little at how good it feels. With her other hand, she uses her showerhead, aiming it at her clit as she probes at her entrance with another finger. She massages her clit with the showerhead while she fucks herself on her two fingers, she never dared to use three, thinks it might be too much. Her two fingers stretch her just enough and she moans as the water stream hits the right place. She pants and closes her eyes, thinks of Dean, of his lips on her, of his big hand around her, of his fucking big cock inside of his sweats that she felt against her thighs. 
She can’t help but wonder if he would fit, kind of guesses that she needs to prep herself if she wants to accommodate the whole of him. Her legs start to tremble as she comes with a loud moan and she bites down on her bottom lip as she feels the flush of her cheek. Is a little ashamed of herself, ashamed that she came with Dean on her mind, can’t lie about that because it’s a first for her. The first time she ever thought about anyone and not just let the overwhelming lust take over when she does it. Not that she’s doing much of it in the first place.
She debates on taking a nap after her shower, but knows that if she would fall asleep now, that she’s mostly going to sleep through her alarm, which would also mean that she would sleep through the meeting she should be having with Linda and there’s no way that she can miss that one. 
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  Cas follows Dean out of the dungeon, leaving Jo behind who screams for both of them to come the fuck back but the voice is cut off — when she’s about to throw in some more profanities — when the door slams close.
They walked back into the library together, wordlessly.
Dean goes straight for the little bar he had once set up since they made the bunker their HQ, pouring two fingers full of whiskey into a tumbler and downs them straight before he pours another three fingers while Cas just watches. He looks back to see the blue-eyed man watching him and Dean raises his eyebrow in question. “You want a drink?” 
“No, no,” Cas says and pulls the closest chair to sit down, waits for Dean to join him. 
“Ugh,” Dean sighs as his heavy body thumps down into a chair across from Cas.
“What a day, huh?”
“Tell me about it,” Dean takes another sip, squints a little at the burn but welcomes it nonetheless.
“What do we do now?” Cas asks, pressing the fingers of his hands together and releasing them like it’s something that calms him down. “Do we keep her alive? Do we treat her like all the others?”
Dean let Cas’ questions sink in, taking another sip and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No,” Dean says then, “Yeah, no. We keep her alive. For the time being at least. I want someone with her during the day. We talk to her, we make her rethink her stance. When I look at her, I don’t see the Jo I know. I see some madwoman. Maybe we can get the old Jo to come back.”
Cas nods his agreement. “What if she doesn’t come around?”
“We take one day at a time, Cas. We have to try. I owe her family that much.”
“So, who do you wanna put on her?”
Dean huffs before taking another gulp of his drink. “You, me. Sam. Even though I don’t like Sam to be involved at all, so we only ask him if we really have to.”
“That’s not enough to cover the days.”
“Yeah, I know. I just don’t trust anyone with the information about this bunker.” Dean licks his lips. “Not until I know if there are other fucking traitors around. We’ll get Rufus, Bobby, Inias, Donatello too. Maybe Jess and Rowena can come around to keep her company as well.”
Dean basically just counted down people who already know about the existence of the bunker and he knows that he could trust them to keep what happens to Jo a secret to the rest of the organization and the outside world.
“Sounds like a plan,” Cas says, pushes his chair back with a creaking sound that makes the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. “Let’s start by fixing her up and then we can start on talking some sense into her.”
“Yeah, let’s.” Dean chuckles because Cas is all enthusiastic. It’s to cheer him up, Dean knows that too.
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  Y/N’s back in her apartment when she realizes that she doesn’t even have food and forgot to do some shopping on her way back. She opens one pantry after the other, finds coffee and cereals but there’s no milk to eat it with and she can’t drink another cup of coffee if she doesn’t want for her eyes to vibrate. Stuffing her mouth full of plain cereal, she chews and walks to her room to change into her pajamas. It’s only 7 PM but she feels like she’s been awake for days and her body is sore. 
She was so, so close to telling Linda to call it off but then Linda was rambling on about how they have intel about a big moving of narcotics in a couple of weeks time, and she was sure that it’s Dean. Linda needed her to find out when that’s going to happen, and seriously, how could she not do it? She owes Linda that much, she guesses. 
Linda had asked about her cheek and she lied that it was her walking around the bar in the dark and hit her face on the door. Linda bought her sorry excuse and Y/N was relieved.
However, Y/N steered the conversation away when Linda suddenly asked how it’s going with Dean and if she had made any progress. 
If Linda only knew… 
Y/N’s not going to say anything though, knows that if she tells Linda that she knows where Dean lives or any of the other things that happened, Linda will blow it off and orders for her to go right back, and she doesn’t really want for it to happen. If someone calls the operation off, she’s the one to do it and it should be on her to decide if she wants to go back at all.
Right now, Y/N’s not sure if she fits into her old life anymore, if she would be happy at all once she goes back. It all started as a way of vengeance but it became so much more. Something she wasn’t really prepared for. In hindsight, nothing could have prepared her for falling… No, she’s not going to go there.
Now she’s back in her apartment, kind of misses Dean a little but he’s obviously busy because he hasn’t replied to the text she sent an hour ago.
She settles into her bed, opens her laptop, and logs on to Netflix. Maybe watching something will distract her from her growling stomach and her heavy heart.
Browsing through the lists of series she once started but never finished, she gets distracted by the buzzing of her phone.
 D: Sorry it took me so long to answer. You okay?
Y/N: Don’t worry about it. Yeah, I’m still tired though. Going to bed now.
D: What are you wearing?
 Her eyes widened at the straightforwardness of his text.
 Y/N: What?
D: I’m really just kidding, sweetheart. Did you eat anything?
Y/N: A handful of cereal. But don’t worry. I’m more tired than hungry.
D: Just FYI. Someone will knock at your door in about 40 minutes. 
Y/N: What? Who?
D: You’ll see. Now you rest, okay? Miss you.
 There she goes again, her cheeks feel hotter with every thudding of her heart.
 Y/N: Miss you too. Good night Dean
D: Good night, sweetheart
 She smiles and places her phone back onto her nightstand as she settles in her bed. She couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to fall asleep next to Dean. He’s so big and broad and he makes her feel safe and she curses herself for being too drunk last night to really enjoy his presence. If he was in the same bed with her at all? She tries so hard to remember something but the memories stay away from her brain.
It’s exactly 40 minutes later that someone knocks at her door. She opens up to Bobby, holding a bag full of greasy but delicious smelling food with a bright smile on his face. 
“Dean worried about you and told me to bring you something to eat. I didn’t know you’d be alone so I guess you’ll have enough food to last you a week now.” Bobby’s laughing because the bag is stuffed full with a dozen containers at least.
“Well, do you want to come in and eat with me?” She asks, opens the door wider for Bobby but the old man waves her off.
“It’s madness in my shop, darling,” He lets her take the bag from his hand. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” Bobby says and leaves, but not without giving her a bone-crushing hug to remember him by.
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  It’s almost 2 AM when Dean’s back home in his apartment. Jo’s lips are still sealed shut and maybe they would have cracked her open if Dean would have been a little kinder to her, but he was just too butthurt that she hurt his girl and also too exhausted and it wouldn’t have needed much for Dean to put a bullet through her skull. 
Cas was aware of Dean’s distress and he was the one who suggested that Dean went home and maybe take care of Y/N. Cas would follow up with the people and see who can be available the first thing in the morning and Dean’s thankful for that. Thankful to have Cas, who kind of grounds him. 
Cas didn’t put into his equation that Y/N’s not here and is most likely already sound asleep —  in her own fucking bed.
Dean peels himself off his sweats and shirt, thinks about taking a shower when he feels something rub against his legs. 
“Hey, buddy. You hungry?” Dean says, smiles a little as Cuddles nudges against his skin. “You know you’re not allowed in here,” Dean picks the cat up and walks out of his bedroom, only to notice the stench smell now, “Shit, forgot to clean up your litter box this morning, didn’t I?” 
Cuddles meows and jumps from Dean’s arm to walk to his food tray and Dean pours food into it while the cat swallows with pleasure. He changes the water for the cat before he makes his way to the litter box, wrinkling his nose as he cleans it out.
  *
 Dean wakes with a gasp, cold sweat beads on his forehead. For a brief moment, he was back at being shot at, loud noises around him, he breathed in dust that burned in his lungs.
He risks a glance at the clock, sees that it’s 2.44 AM. He had barely slept ten minutes.
Getting up, he gets into a pair of new sweats and zips a fresh hoodie up around his body. The cat looks surprised when he sees Dean walking out of his bedroom. At first, Dean tries to ignore the questioning glare but then he could feel the gaze following as he walks to the front door.
“Stop looking at me like that,” He says, slips into his sports shoes at the entrance. “I’m not doing anything stupid.”
Dean gets up, and grabs a key to his SUV, and steals a glance at the cat before he opens the door. The cat was still looking at him grumpily.
“You know, sometimes I really think that you should go and live with Sam. You two would get along just perfectly.”
He steps out the door and locks it behind him. 
Before Dean knows it, he’s on the road.
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CH13
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257 notes · View notes
toxophilitis · 3 years
Text
THE NIGHT SHIFT NURSE cont.
CHAPTER TWO
The next evening, Nancy was alone in the hospital ward. The attending doctor this evening was one of those who never showed up unless there was a problem.
Nancy went on her rounds.
The only ones that noticed Nancy's new look were some ambulance drivers who were always teasing Nancy. They both seemed to like her.
As she came in, the big-titted nurse wiggled a little extra for them. During the day, she had gone out and bought two of the new, shorter nurse's uniforms. They weren't mini-skirts, but the short skirt did show a lot of leg. More importantly, she had on a push-up bra that drew men's eyes to her tits. With her hair combed out long, she looked very nice.
Hearing a whistle, Nancy stopped and did a little turn to show off her new uniform.
"Jesus, Vic!" Bill McMartin said as she wiggled past them. "Someone's kidnapped Nurse Nancy and left another girl in her place."
"Yeah," Vic Gorman exclaimed with a nice smile. "And look at the one that they left behind."
Picking up the clipboard, Nancy smiled, then stared down the hall to make her rounds. With only one patient, it was an easy chore that she did each hour. She looked at the chart as she walked down the hall.
Eddie Carter was coming along fine. His leg was broken, but it looked as if it was going to be okay. The young football player was going to spend a couple of more days here for tests, but things were looking up for him.
As she entered the room, Nancy saw that he was asleep. It was a shame, but she had to wake him every hour all night.
"Eddie?" she called. "I'm sorry, honey. I've got to check your cast again. Wake up."
The boy had a cast on from the hip down on his right leg. Her orders were to make sure that the cast didn't hinder the flow of blood into the leg. She had to feel his toes each hour to make sure that they were warm and pink.
As he woke from a dream-filled sleep, the young man saw the night nurse standing over him. It took him a few seconds to come up from the foggy land of his dreams.
"Oh, hello, Nancy. Need to check me again?"
"Sorry," she said. "Maybe your doctor will let you sleep after tonight. Your checks have all been okay."
"I sure hope so."
Nancy pulled up the bottom of the sheet. She touched his cast, feeling down to the wiggling toes sticking out the end. As usual, he was fine. She felt his response as she tickled him.
Looking up as she massaged his foot for a few seconds, Nancy saw that he was holding the sheet tightly around his neck. Dropping her gaze, she saw why he was gripping the sheet so tightly. That bulge in the sheet was his cock, and it was jerking as she smiled up to him.
"Your toes feel a little cool," she lied, suddenly feeling a warm flushing in her tits as she stared at the tented sheet.
"Really?" he said, a worried sound coming into his voice as he watched the night nurse pulling the curtain around his bed.
"Let me check your cast," Nancy whipped off the sheet in one motion before he could stop her.
The tie-on gowns that the hospital gave patients didn't do all that much to hide what she saw as she whipped off the sheet. The bottom of the gown was up around his belly, leaving the sight of his rock-hard cock very visible for the gawking nurse.
"I see that you're starting to heal," she teased.
"No," she smiled again, blushing. "That's a good sign, Eddie. It means that you're getting better."
Acting as if she was checking the top of his leg to see if the cast was too tight, Nancy felt that throbbingly hard tube of teenaged cock-meat. Her hand brushed against his balls when she checked his inner thigh. As her hand moved, it slipped down over his stiff prick-shaft. That lovely hard-on was drawing the young nurse's hand like a magnet.
"Oooooh," he groaned.
"It's lonely in a hospital," she said very softly, her hand gently caressing his throbbing cock. "The nights are so long and lonely."
The young nurse's hand was moving, running lightly over the fuck-muscle of his cock. The young man didn't move. He didn't know what to do. Eddie wasn't sure if he was still in his dream, or if this was really happening to him.
As her fingers closed around the young man's hard cock, Nancy squeezed it tightly. Pre-cum came trickling over her fingers. Eddie's nice young cock, all hard and thick, was ready to come just from her touch. The heat of the super stiff prick was searing her fist as she tightened her gripping hand over it.
"Oooooh, Eddie!" she whispered.
Eddie had tightened up all over as she touched his beautiful hard prick. He relaxed, slumping back down onto the bed as Nancy pulled his gown up higher and started pumping up and down over his swollen hard-on.
"God, that feels good!" the young man groaned as he tried to hump his hips up to drive his prick through her fist.
"Easy," Nancy warned. "Don't hurt your leg, Eddie."
"Are you going to jack me off?"
"Would you like that?"
"Shit, yes!"
"Can you come fast?" she asked.
"I'm almost there right now!" he groaned. In a hospital that usually had patients just like Eddie, young men who really weren't sick, it wasn't all that unusual to see a hard-on while bathing or giving a back-rub. This time, it was different for Nancy. Seeing that little candy-striper getting fucked had set off feelings in her that had been long buried.
Nancy was starved for the feel of hard cock. The young man's lovely stiff prick bucked in her fist, jerking and throbbing as clear juice ran down to make her hand-job slippery and exciting for both of them. She had really missed this. The sensation of being in charge of something as powerful as the young, muscular guy just by having her hand on his prick. She looked her lust-filled eyes on the head of his boner, watching another drop trickle out of his piss-slit. Her thumb rubbed it off.
"Jesus!" he hissed. "That's so good, Nancy. I've been so fucking horny in here."
"You've got to be really quiet," she warned as she smiled at the handsome young man.
"I will," he promised in a whispering voice. "I'll be careful not to say anything too loud."
"If anyone catches us..."
"I won't make a sound Nancy."
The teasing nurse was really enjoying this. The feel of the surging hardness in her hand was making Nancy's breathing start to become labored. She was getting so hot.
"Are you sure?" she teased, again using the pad of her thumb to rub his piss-slit.
"Ooooh, God!" he groaned, but this time the sound was muffled as he kept his lips tightly clenched.
"Didn't your girlfriend take care of you when she visited today?" Nancy teased, her hand never slowing from that steady rhythm that she was using as she jacked off the young man. "You two were in here alone for almost an hour."
"I tried to talk her into it," he groaned.
"Let Nurse Nancy take care of you, baby," she cooed. "I'll make you come nice, Eddie. Squirt for me! Come hard! Come hard, baby! Let me see your cum!"
The beautiful brunette hadn't done anything this naughty in years. The idea of her standing by the side of a patient's bed and using her soft hand on his ready-to-explode cock was so exciting to Nancy. She felt her pussy creaming and heating up as her fist moved up and down faster. She was horny, too, but she couldn't take the chance of doing anything about it.
Nancy watched the jerking length of his cock, aching to feel it up in her empty cunt. Or hot mouth. Or anywhere that Eddie wanted to put it.
"You've got a pretty prick, Eddie," she whispered as her other hand came up to cup his cum-filled balls. "So nice and hard. Big, too. I love the way it feels."
Nancy was dying to hop up on the bed and ram this raging hard-on into her steaming hot pussy. She felt fairly safe with the curtain pulled around them as she gave him a hand-job, but there was no way that she could concentrate on listening for approaching footsteps with a cock jerking up inside her pussy. For right now, she was going to have to be satisfied with just this much.
"Come, Eddie!" she cooed. "Come for me, baby. Let the nurse make you feel all better."
The young man's hand had drifted over to her hip as she jacked up and down on his lovely hard cock. Nancy felt his fingers kneading into her flesh as he groaned out his pleasure. Very slowly, his hand was moving under her uniform bottom. His hand drifted upward until he was at the top of her thighs.
Along with the new bra that she bought to day, Nancy hand picked up a pair of crotchless white panyhose. In high school, she had never worn any panties, but on this job, her legs had to be covered with white stockings. The idea of having nothing covering her soaking wet pussy was very naughty, and now she was glad that she had worn the crotchless nylons for her shift.
Eddie's fingers continued up, cupping her ass. Suddenly he was touching her furry pussy-hair.
Nancy saw his eyes getting all round and big. "Go ahead," she purred, spreading her legs to give him more room. "It's okay, baby."
The pretty young nurse was writhing in ecstasy as the young man's finger slipped up into her juice-slickened cunt. The feel of a man's hand cupping her fiery pussy was something that Nancy hadn't felt in so long. He slithered up inside her silky tightness. The naughty feel was making her pant wildly.
"Oooooh, Eddie!"
"Can I get you off?" he whispered.
"You sure can!" she gushed as his fingers made wet sounds as he finger-fucked her.
The young man rammed his fingers up into her wonderfully wet and slick and tight fuck-hole a few times, then felt for her clitty. He rubbed his slippery fingers all round the inflamed tip of her erect joy-button using the same rhythm as she was using on his cock.
Nancy whispered with a boiling hunger for this young man. Her fist was pumping up and down in a fury, her other hand squeezing his hairy balls as she worked for that shower of hot cum.
Eddie's fingers were quickly bringing her up to the panting stage of passion.
"You're gonna make me come with you, baby!" she moaned as be started stroking up and down on her hard clitty. "God, Eddie! You're gonna make me come!"
"Jesus, Nancy!" he hissed. "I'm almost there!"
Her knees were getting weak as she approached the wonderful peak of her own orgasm.
"It's gonna shoot up all over the place!" he groaned.
"Come, baby!" she begged, her voice sounding frantic. "Let me see you squirt your cum, Eddie! Do it for me!"
Realizing that this lovely nurse was just about to reach an orgasm, Eddie applied more pressure on her clit. He fucked over the tip of her hard clit, trapping the slippery bud between his thumb and forefinger for a few awesome seconds. Tweaking the slick clit-knob feverishly, he massaged her throbbing hard joy-button.
Nancy's eyes were locked on the head of his cock. The piss-slit was gaping open as her hand slipped up and down. She felt the throbbing hardness jerking with more power as he got so close to coming. She waited anxiously, dying to see that aching spurt of creamy white cum-juice as it shot from the head of Eddie's lovely thick prick.
"Let it go, Eddie!" she groaned. "Shoot it up in the air, baby! Ooooh, now! I'm coming! Do it! Do it now!"
As her pussy clamped down around the two fingers that Eddie had rammed up into her climaxing tightness, Nancy began pumping his jerking cock faster and faster. Her fingers were rippling, moving in a milking rhythm as she felt his climax erupting.
"Get ready!" he growled.
"Ooooh, I am!" she whispered, her cunt-hole squeezing around his fingers.
The smooth cock shoved up hard, the purple head of his angry-looking boner swelling so big that Nancy was afraid it was going to split in two. She squeezed his balls. That did it. He came. God, did he come. His cock erupted.
"Oooooh, baby!" she gushed as the first jet of creamy white juice spurted up in the air.
"Pretty, pretty cum! That's it! Let it go, Eddie! Mmmmm! Give it to me! Ooooh, God!"
The burning hot liquid arched up high as the load of cum emptied from Eddie's balls. The fiery juice came back down over her wrist and hand. She didn't stop moving her hand, knowing that he had more to come.
"Yes, Eddie!" she hissed. "Come hard for me!"
He came and came and came. He was horny. Nancy's pumping fist made his cock squirt time and time again. His lovely fuck-juices covered her hand. It was dripping down over his thighs and his belly.
In the dim light of his room, she could see the glistening cum strung out in ropes of pearly white. Her flaring nostrils were drawing in the scent coming up from all the spilt jism.
She squealed as a final orgasm shuddered through her luscious body.
All the tightness in the young man's body seemed to fall away as his climax ended. The prick in her hand started to soften as the blood drained from the tube of his cock-flesh.
"Jesus!" he hissed.
"I'll be right back," she purred as she let the slimy softness of Eddie's cock slip from her fingers.
Nancy went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. She cleaned up his hairy belly and thighs. When she was done, she looked at the soft thing that had been so hard just a few seconds ago. She could tell that Eddie was embarrassed. He didn't know what to say.
"Did you like that, Eddie?" she asked.
"So did I," she confessed.
"Thanks," he finally said, his grin showing that he really meant it. "I needed that."
"If you get so horny that you can't sleep," she said, impulsively leaning over the bed to get a better look at the prick that she had just cleaned up with the warm washcloth, "give me a ring and I'll come down and take care of you."
"Really?" he gasped.
"Sure, baby." Nancy leaned closer and kissed the baby-soft tip of his cock. "That's what a nurse is here for, you know. Our job is to make sure that you get everything that you need. To make a patient feel better."
Licking out teasingly, the woman felt his hands reaching for the mounds of delight on her chest. Under her lips she felt his prick starting to rise again. Nancy knew that she couldn't take the chance of staying any longer than she already had, but she couldn't tear herself away right then. She wanted to see and feel his cock getting hard again under her soft nuzzling kisses. It did. In seconds Eddie's prick was a raging tower once more.
Nancy laughed as he tickled his cock with her tongue. His hands left her chest, but she could see that he wasn't happy about letting her go.
"You wouldn't believe how good that feels," he groaned, her lips still brushing over his hard-on. "I've never had a girl do this before."
"Maybe next time," she cooed, "I'll suck you off."
"Just a little?" he begged. "Now?"
"Okay," she agreed, dropping her mouth down once more, but this time opening her lips wide.
The young man finally got what he had been wanting. His big thick cock was glistening from her wet tongue-lashing only a few seconds ago.
Tightening her lips around the thick meatiness of his hard prick, the horny nurse took his cock deeper and deeper into her hungry mouth. Her tongue swirled, tasting his delicious male flavor. Moaning, she sucked her hot mouth up and down.
"Ooooh, that's nice," Eddie said.
"If I don't get my ass out of here," she hissed, "I'm going to crawl in bed with you, Eddie."
"I don't mind."
"Go to sleep, Eddie," she giggled as she covered the young man with the sheet.
"You sure you wouldn't rather stay here and take care of me again?"
"If I stay," she said, her eyes flashing in the dim light, "I'd do more than a hand-job, Eddie."
"I'm ready."
"So am I," she said. "But we're not going to do it. I'd get caught for sure. Now, go to sleep."
"Yes, Nurse. Nancy."
As she walked down the hall, Nancy licked her lips. A single drop of his sweet pre-cum was on her lower lip. The taste made her shudder all over as it melted on her tongue.
10 notes · View notes
queenvidal · 4 years
Text
Reuinons
- 6 months are a long time, they have a lot of catching up to do -
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- Work on AO3 -
Chapter 2 (NSFW)
The moment the elevator starts moving, Wrex has to shift from one foot to the other. Shepards smile is morphing into a mischievous smirk. "What's the matter, big guy? Nervous?" 
"Teasing, Lexis? You should know better than teasing a krogan you left waiting for months."
The smirk vanished as quickly as it had come. Instead her brows move into a frown. "Yeah, sure. Like the Alliance left me a choice."
"No, but I did. Told ya not to hand yourself in. I'd have loved to see 'em try to get you off my planet." Both knew the Alliances would have not tried anything. The peace between Earth and Tuchanka has been too fragile. 
Shepard folds her arms in front of her chest. "Mood killer, Wrex."
"Nah." He chuckles. "I know how to get you back in the mood." If only the damn elevator would hurry. His groin plates started shifting the moment he got word of the other races agreeing to board the Normandy for negotiations. Wrex armor is getting tighter and tighter. This topic might be a mood killer for her but surely not for him. If anything it reminds him of how long he has been abstinent.
 Neither of them said something about monogamy but still Wrex waited for her. The women of his clan are hard to seduce and furthermore his mind was very occupied with gaining and keeping his power among his clan and the others.
   Except for the one time he was on the Citadel, when he paid Cora's Den one final visit before it closed. They never lacked of beautiful dancers and hookers. He considered taking a human to the private areas of the club but in the end he just payed for his drinks and left.
   Somehow it didn't feel right. And for some reason he didn't find the human females nor the asari very alluring. Something he noticed with his own females, too. The work of making them agree to sleep with him started to seem not worth the outcome anymore. Not to mention that fun and enjoyment never were the main focus when sleeping with krogans anyway. Is only about procreation, nothing more.
   Oftentimes Wrex found his thoughts around his former Commander. Her lips and what they were capable of. Something no krogan could give him. Sure, Coras humans could have done it and probably even their asari but if he's honest with himself, it's not about the strange mouth pillows in particular, it's about them being Alexis.
   He still remembers the last time they were together, how she smelled, how she tasted, how she wiggled underneath him in ecstasy. Wrex can feel his quad tighten in anticipation, his armor is getting painfully tight. But he is holding himself back, he'd rather have her in the privacy of her cabin, than in this poor excuse of an elevator.
   Shepard seems to notice the reason behind his discomfort. They had a similar situation happen when she was on Tuchanka before she left for the Collector-Base. "So…" Her voice sounds suspiciously playful. Slowly she turns, facing him completely. With a coy grin on her face, her hands are wandering up his chest until they stop just beneath the exposed hide of his neck. "You really waited for me? A wonder you didn't exploded during my time under arrest. Six months are a long time after all."
   The elevator it is, then. Without a word he grabs her, lifting her up. Shepard quickly wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him to her even closer. Having her trapped between him and the wall, Wrex buries his face in the crook of her neck to savor her sweet smell. Damn, she smells even better than he remembered, having him even more turned on. Krogans may lack of lips for kissing but he quickly learned he still can nip at her skin. Having her sighing nevertheless.
   The stupid jacked of hers is getting in his way eventually, blocking him from the soft skin of her throat. Alexis can hear the buttons flying against the metal ground, Wrex ripped through the cloth but she couldn't care less with his hot breath against her neck.
   Finally the elevator doors open. Just in time. Wrex carries her out to the small anteroom. Her legs let go and he carefully lets her down, only to spin her around.
   Wrex is wasting no time, he opens up the seals of the goin plate of his armor. Finally releasing his rock hard member. Shepard hurries as well, she pulls both her trousers and her panties down, letting them pool around her ankles.
   She almost has no time to brace herself against the wall, when Wrex kicks her feet further apart to get better access to her hot core.
   The sweet scent of her arousal is floating Wrex nostrils, almost driving him insane. He positions himself behind her, coating the tip of his member with her excitement. With one quick thrust he enters her. He moans against her shoulder and she against the wall. Fuck, for how long was he craving for this?
   But Wrex won't let her adjust to his size, he starts moving forcefully, pushing in further, just to withdraw again. His talons are buried deep into the sensitive skin of her hips while he takes her in a fast rhythm.  His grasp might be too hard but he couldn't care less. That what she gets for teasing him and her moaning and sighing speaks for itself, no complaining from her side.
   Shepards legs start to tremble, the sensation of Wrex blunt spikes along his length is almost too much to bare. His thick and pointy tip is hitting are her g-spot with unbelievable precision. The tight coil in her belly is about to burst at any second.
   Wrex can feel her already tight walls closing in on him. Fuck, this woman is like a vice. Her moaning and slick hot wetness is drawing Wrex closer to the edge with every movement of his hips. When he feels her pulsing around him, after a few more hard thrust, he starts losing his rhythm. With a low grunt he spills himself inside her but instead of catching his breath he withdraws completely.
   Shepard wants to complain but whatever she was about to say, dies in her throat when Wrex spins her around to face him again. She looks up at him with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes while his are burning with desire. Wrex grabs her thighs and picks her up to presses her against the wall again. He spreads her legs as far as possible.
   Shepard lets her head fall back when he pushes into her again. With the new angle, his groin plates are pressing against her clit. It feels way too good and she's biting her lips, trying to keep her sounds down.
   Something Wrex notices and doesn't approve of. He darts his tongue out and licks over her pulse point. His human buries her nails into his chest plate in response. But the muffled moans are still too quiet for his liking.
   Wrex increases the speed and strength of his thrusts, almost slamming into her. Shepard clings to him for dear life, she is close again. Wrex nips at her neck one final time before he bites her where her neck and shoulder meet.
   Unable to hold back anymore, Alexis cries out, not in pain but in pure pleasure. It's throwing her over the edge, hard. Her orgasm is leaving her squirming in her krogans hands. Wrex is responding with an orgasm of his own, her tightening and spasming walls making him follow her suit only seconds later.
   Both are panting heavily, not letting go of each other. Wrex leans his head against the cool metal of the wall while Shepard lets her head drop onto his shoulder as they recover. Not trusting her legs yet, Wrex tugs her closer and starts carrying  her to the door, down the steps and to her bed, where he carefully lays her down.
   Shepard swipes loose strands of hair from her forehead as she looks up at her krogan with a small smile on her lips. "Done already?"
   A low laugh rumbles through Wrex chest. “Heh, this was just foreplay. I’m everything but done with you just yet.” Only now he stars to remove the rest of his armor, Shepard crowls to the end of the bed to help him. It's falls unceremoniously to the ground, piece by piece until he's completely naked.
   He looks down at her to find her beaming at him. Damn, she is a sight. Slowly Wrex leans down to nip on her lips and Shepard kisses him back. It's ridiculous but Wrex can't deny he likes it. "My turn." She whispers against his skin.
   The bed shifts and protests loudly under Wrex weight but it doesn’t break. This time. Carefully he leans back against the headboard of her bed, watching her getting rid of the ridiculous jacket and her bra underneath it.
   Leisurely she's coming closer to straddle his legs. Wrex eyes wander over her naked form as she's slowly lowering her head towards his member. His pulse quickens when he feels the tip of her tongue taking its time to wander from the base up his length and to the head. She encircles it with her full lips and starts bobbing her head down ever so slowly.
   Dammit, it feels even better than he called to mind. It takes all his strength not to move his hips to thrust into her warm mouth. Her slow pace is maddening and perfect at the same time. Too much and not enough.
   The Clan-Chief can’t keep from growling, when Shepard starts to suck on his tip. She circles it with her tongue every now and then and continues to suck again. Taking more of his length in with everytime she does it.
   Stars are dancing behind Wrex eyelids. When he closed his eyes, he can't remember and he doesn't care. This is way too good to allow even the shortest of coherent thoughts. Alexis tongue starts playing with the blunt spikes of his shaft while swallowing around him.
   Wrex buries his talons in the sheets, almost tearing them. "Fuck…" He pulls even harder at the sheets, when he can feel Shepards delicate fingers massaging his quad while the speed of her working him with her mouth increases.
   Eventually she releases him again with a loud      plop    . Wrex opens his eyes again, just in time to see her carefully lowering herself onto him. A sigh leaves her swollen lips when he enters her again. Both stay still for a moment, only looking at each other before Alexis starts moving.
   Every so slowly she is rocking her hips. Leaning on his chest for leverage, before she starts to push her legs to go up and down.
   While enjoying the sight of her taking pleasure in riding him, Wrex lets his hands wander from her thighs up to the hips, where bruises are already developing. He can't tear his eyes from the traces of his talons on her dark skin. A visible mark, that she belongs to him. The idea alone is making his head dizzy. He encourages her to go harder by meeting her hip movements by his own.
   Shepard moans in response. "Ah, Wrex." And is going faster with her rhythm. Her walls are already starting to close around him again. He increases in speed as well. With his hands buried in the flesh of her tights again, he thrusts up quickly and hard. Her skin is clapping against his hide and plates. It's music in his ears.
   Her moaning is getting louder and louder, encouraging Wrex to let go of his self control. Her whole body starts to shake from the intensity of her orgamsn, when he takes her with force. Alexis is so hot and almost painfully tight, Wrex can’t hold himself back any longer. He slams into her until his quad tightens, preparing for the elease.
   He comes undone in her with a loud and deep rumble in his chest. It is vibrating through his whole body and his vision goes white. Wrex is completely losing all his senses for a long moment.
   It takes him a while to come back. When he is able to collect himself again, he finds that the tip of his cock started to swell, same for his once blunt spikes.
   Wrex tears his eyes open, when he realises what just happened. He looks up at the Commander, who looks back at him with wide open eyes, stunned. "What the fuck, Wrex?” She asks, still panting.
   “Sorry.” He simply whispers, completely out of breath and still a bit dazed. Without a thought he adjusts his hips, causing Shepard to hiss in pain. His spikes are keeping her in place and punish even the slightest movement. “Shit, Wrex. What is that?”
   “I… got carried away.” He starts as he lets his hands fall back onto her thighs. “I… we are locked. Won’t last long, though. A few minutes.”
   It is silent for a few moments until Shepard realizes what's going on. “Did… did you just knot with me?”
   Wrex doesn’t answer, he is still catching his breath. He catches the faint sound of a chuckle and light touches on his mouth. Shepard lowered herself down as far as his spikes allowed her to to kiss him. “Should I feel honored?”
   “Not when you are so damn smut about it.” He raises his arms to hug her to him. “Just be grateful it didn’t happen in your mouth.”
   Another chuckle and then silence again. Damn, as mind blowing as this was, the krogan Clan-Chief is feeling exhausted. All his limbs feel like heavy jelly and his eyes refuse to open.
   Shepard nuzzles her head at his neck, slowly laying down on his chest.  For once she doesn’t say anything, just letting him hug her.
   Wrex is savoring the moment of having his human knot with him. He totally forgot this feeling. Until now he did it only once, when he still was a young and stupid krogan, just after his rite with a female he can’t even remember the name of. Ever since no other woman ever got him even close to knotting.
   Hell, if someone had told him, someday he would have Commander Shepard kept in place by his member, he’d simply shot the person for talking shit.
   The swell of the spikes and the tip is wearing off, releasing Shepard from their hold, but neither her nor Wrex make any attempt to move. Shepards thumb is drawing lazy circles on his chest and he does the same on her back.
   “I’ve missed you.” He feels her whisper against his neck.
   “Of course you did.” He earns a light punch on his chest from her in return but he just huffs a laugh. While still hugging her, he rolls them to the side, finally able to face her without looking down at her all the time.
   It should be weird. Finding peace and comfort in the arms of a female human. To knot with one even. But it isn't, it feels right. He still can't quite believe he is with her, that she is as attracted to him as he is to her. As strange as it is, Wrex wouldn’t trade it for anything, except for-
   “Commander, the Dallatras gave us the exact position of the krogan females and left the ship. Do you want us to set course?”
   Shepard answers Traynor with a simply “Yes.” Not making any effort to move out of her lovers arms. It will take hours to get to Sur'kesh anyway, a short nap won’t hurt. Slowly but surely the Commander drifts off to sleep, when suddenly she feels Wrex low voice rumble through his chest.
   “Hey, Lexis?”
   “Hm?”
   “I’ve missed you, too.”
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livesincerely · 4 years
Text
it’s written in bold letters, ch. 3 (END)
The Letterman Jacket fic. Chapter one here, chapter two here. 
Also on Ao3
00000
By the time Coach finally lets him leave, the rest of the team has long since cleared out, leaving Jack’s beat-up old Chrysler as one of the last vehicles in the lot. Except, Jack realizes, slowing to a halt, he’s not as alone as he’d thought⁠—there’s someone waiting for him.
Davey is leaning against the hood of Jack’s car, flipping lazily through a paperback. Jack’s eyes track up the length of Davey’s body, taking in the long line of his legs, the way he chews absently at his lip as he reads, how the evening breeze ruffles his hair, causing him to reach up every so often to brush his fringe out of his eyes⁠.
Jack lingers there for a moment, just appreciating the view. Then his brain skips and re-centers as he actually processes what he’s seeing. Because it’s not just that Davey’s waiting on him. It’s that he’s waiting on him and he’s wearing Jack’s letterman jacket.
Jack’s spine straightens, his shoulders rolling back in anticipation. Game on.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Jack drawls out as he approaches, giving Davey an obvious once-over. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes. I don’t suppose you’re waiting on me?”
Davey glances up⁠—Jack catches the barest hint of a smirk—then goes back to reading. “No, I’m waiting on my boyfriend.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jack says. “That’s nice of ya.”
“Mmmm hmmm...” Davey hums, non-committal. Jack tilts his head, considering him. 
“This boyfriend of yours,” he starts slowly, coming around to stand next to the front bumper. “He can’t be that great if he’s got ya out in the cold like this.”
“Well, to be fair, he doesn’t know I’m here,” Davey says, picking at a torn corner of his book. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“A smart, gorgeous guy like you, sittin’ pretty on the hood of his car?” Jack offers, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like a damn good surprise to me.”
Davey squirms at the clear admiration in Jack’s voice and the change in position causes his knees to fall open a little bit; Jack takes his cue and steps closer⁠, so that he’s standing right between Davey’s legs. Davey’s eyes dart up to meet his own, mouth parting slightly at the sudden proximity, and there’s the barest sound of an inhaled breath as Jack reaches out and plucks Davey’s book from his now-slackened grip and places it deliberately to the side.
“How much longer ‘til the boyfriend shows up?” Jack asks, fingers trailing lightly along the outsides of Davey’s thighs.
“He should be getting out of practice any minute now,” Davey replies, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s doing a good job at playing demure but there’s no denying the heat that’s sparking in those blue eyes. “He’s not one to keep me waiting.” 
“So he’s on the football team then,” Jack muses, or pretends to. He tugs at the bottom edge of the letterman that Davey’s wearing. “‘S that why you’ve got this on?”
“It’s part of the surprise,” Davey answers, a little breathlessly. “He likes when I wear it.”
“Oh, I bet he does,” Jack mutters, shifting so that he’s braced over Davey with his hands pressed flat against the hood of the car. Davey doesn’t move, letting Jack lean right into his space. “And you don’t mind? ‘Cause it sounds like he’s a bit territorial.”
“Oh, he’s definitely the jealous type,” Davey murmurs, “but it’s not a big deal. Actually, it works out perfectly.”
“And why’s that?”
Davey ducks his head a little, looking up at Jack from under his eyelashes in that way that drives him absolutely crazy. Then he says, in a perfectly mild tone that shows he knows exactly what he’s doing, “Because I like the thought of him staking his claim.”
The words linger in the air for barely a second before Jack’s mouth closes on Davey’s in a heated, demanding kiss. Davey’s lips part eagerly to his own, like he’s just been waiting for Jack to give in to him, and he’s warm and pliant against him as their tongues slide and curl together.
“That wasn’t very nice of ya,” Jack says when they separate, doing away with the pretense. 
“Really?” Davey asks, panting a little. “Because I thought it was very nice of me.”
“You shouldn’t tease me like this, sweetheart,” Jack growls out, unable to resist pressing another kiss to that gorgeous mouth, “‘cause every time I see you in my letterman I just wanna ravish ya on the spot, and we can’t have that.”
“I don’t see why we can’t,” Davey replies, hooking a foot around Jack’s calf to draw him even closer. 
“Davey,” Jack groans even as he lets himself be moved, pushing Davey harder into the hood of the car with the weight of his body, arousal thrumming low in his belly. 
“I’m just saying, we’ve got a perfectly good backseat right here,” Davey continues, fingertips dancing whisper-soft across the nape of Jack’s neck. Then lifts up and murmurs directly in Jack’s ear: “Don’t you want to take advantage of your surprise?”
Jack’s blood rushes south so fast he nearly goes dizzy with it. “Get in the damn car.”
They pile into the backseat, Jack settling in first, then pulling Davey in on top of him, straddling his lap. Jack’s hands are everywhere: cupping around the back of Davey’s head to drag him into a frantic kiss, snaking up the back of his shirt to paw at the soft skin there, sliding down over the delicious curve of his ass, taking two palmfuls and squeezing.
“Fuck,” he bites out as Davey wrestles Jack’s t-shirt over his head, then starts working a line of searing kisses down the curve of his jaw. He’s nearly mindless with how badly he wants him: Davey is fucking stunning above him with his darkened eyes and kiss-swollen lips and Jesus fucking Christ that damn letterman jacket⁠— 
Jack groans into another kiss, sucking at Davey’s tongue and nibbling at his bottom lip. Davey’s dick is hard and heavy against his stomach, the layers of clothing between them doing little to dull the feeling, and Jack is just as hard—painfully so—his own erection straining against the front of his jeans. Jack’s hands move to curl around Davey’s waist, urging Davey to roll his hips down in a sensual move that has them both gasping for breath.
Jack scrapes his teeth over Davey’s pulse point, thrilling at the shiver and stuttering breath it draws from him, then tugs the collar of his shirt out of the way and starts working a hickey into the side of his neck.
“Possessive... bastard,” Davey moans, fingers going tight in Jack’s hair.
“Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea,” Jack growls back, nipping and biting at that sensitive spot over and over again until he’s satisfied that a vicious bruise will form there. He moves further down, swirling his tongue in the hollow of Davey’s throat to lap up the salt that’s gathered there.
“Jack,” Davey whines, back arching as he chases after the sensation. “I need⁠— I want⁠— Fuck, Jack, hurry up.”
“Bossy,” Jack murmurs into his skin.
“Horny,” Davey counters, and he wears frustrated even better when he’s all flushed and rumpled like this. “Waiting for you to get on with it. Jesus, what do you want me to do, beg?”
The words hit Jack like a blow to the chest. His grip on Davey’s hips goes so tight so suddenly that Davey lets out a breathy, startled noise. “Jack,” he gasps. “Jack, are you⁠—”
Jack pulls him down, hard, right as he thrusts his own hips up⁠, a rough motion that’s all harsh desire and sharp pleasure⁠, and whatever other smartass comment Davey might’ve had cued up dies on his lips. Davey squirms restlessly in his lap, desperate for more of that exquisite friction, but it’s a futile effort: Jack is too strong⁠—his hands are like vices on Davey’s hips, tight enough to mark him, tight enough to bruise—so it’s all but impossible for him to move unless Jack lets him. 
“Jack,” Davey whimpers as he realizes that Jack is in complete control of his movements, and Jack stares up at him, teeth bared in a predatory grin. “Jack, let me⁠—” He starts tearing at his clothes, trying to work his arms out of his⁠—Jack’s⁠⁠—jacket’s sleeves.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Jack halts his attempts with another slow, dirty roll of their hips, grinding their erections together, and Davey chokes on a moan. “You wanna come out here, all pretty and perfect with my name plastered across your back? You wanna push me? The jacket stays on.”
Wide blue eyes. “Jack⁠—”
He rears up and all but devours Davey’s mouth. “You’re mine,” he snarls.
“Oh my god.”
Jack wrenches Davey’s fly open, working his jeans and underwear down just far enough to get to his goal. Davey’s dick is nice and hard, leaking slightly at the tip, and his thighs are trembling, his nails biting into Jack’s skin from where he’s braced himself against Jack’s shoulders and Jack wantswantswants⁠— 
He can’t bear to let go of Davey long enough to get his own pants open the easy way, so he gropes at the button of his jeans one-handed, barely getting the zipper down far enough before he’s pulling his dick out. Jack allows his grip to loosen a fraction, giving Davey the barest bit of space to move and he takes every advantage of it, rutting against Jack’s stomach in short, helpless little jerks. Every now and then his thrusts cause his dick to rub right against Jack’s and the rough, wet slide of it is so impossibly good.
Jack tips Davey’s pelvis up, searching for just the right angle, and when their dicks line up he wraps a fist around them both, pumping them together in long, fast strokes. 
“You gonna come for me, Davey?” Jack asks, working his hand up and down, up and down, and Davey’s head falls forward, his breath coming in choppy pants. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
“Jack...” Davey whines, a desperate, wrecked little noise. All Jack can think is fuck, and god, yes, and mine, mine, mine, he’s mine.
Jack jerks them once, twice, three times more, Davey’s hips stutter and twitch in his hold, and then he’s coming hard all over Jack’s hand and stomach. And watching him come—just the sight of him, really, all fucked out and sweaty and covered in marks from Jack’s hands and Jack’s mouth and wearing Jack’s letterman—is enough to send Jack tumbling over the edge as well.
They collapse into each other, boneless with their post-orgasm high. Jack has enough awareness to shift so that Davey is cradled against his chest, wrapping his arms around him to keep him close. 
He presses a kiss to Davey’s temple, running a soothing hand over his back. “Are you okay?”
“I am amazing,” Davey sighs, sinking further into the embrace. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I was… rough,” Jack mutters, shaking his head. “Too rough. I shouldn't've held ya like that— I shouldn’t’ve grabbed ya so hard.”
“Let’s not pretend like I didn’t provoke you,” Davey says, shifting back so he can level Jack with a flat look. “If I didn’t like it, I would’ve stopped you.”
“Still, you're gonna have some wicked bruises,” Jack says, feeling guilty. Or maybe, feeling guilty that he doesn’t feel guilty.
“Nothing I wasn’t asking for,” Davey says firmly. He fits his fingers around the divots of his hips, right over where Jack had been holding him—like if he presses hard enough he might feel an imprint left behind by Jack’s hands. “Nothing I didn’t want.”
Jack swallows around the fresh desire that’s building in his throat. Davey sees the expression on his face and smirks. 
“What?” he asks coyly, smoothing a hand down the jacket’s front. “You thought you were the only one with fantasies about this thing?”
Jack kisses him again, slow and deep. Half joking and half deadly serious, he asks: “Think we can make it to an actual bed for round two?”
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ohblackdiamond · 4 years
Text
little t&a (gene/paul, nc-17) (part 28 of 29)
part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29
Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene and Paul finally go all the way.
Within ten minutes, Gene was splayed on his stomach on the bed, eating Paul out almost ravenously. One of Paul’s bare feet kept rubbing up and digging into his back with every lick and suck, encouragement Gene didn’t even need.
The musky scent and taste of him was intoxicating. Gene felt like he could bury his face in Paul’s pussy forever. Paul didn’t seem to be averse to that, legs shifting, thighs tightening mercilessly around his head. Strangled little cries were giving way to sharp screams. Paul had started off clenching the covers again, but his hands had found their way to Gene’s scalp before too long. He wasn’t digging in as hard as last time. Closer to petting, really, telescoping Gene’s whole world, each touch, each sensation, down to just Paul. It was a real effort to lift his head—Paul grunted in protest immediately—and really take a good look at how unraveled Paul was getting. 
His skin was flushed, eyes half-lidded and so heavily dilated they were practically black. Hair already a mess. Chest heaving. He should’ve looked more vulgar, obscene, even, but somehow he didn’t. Paul almost looked sweet. He still had a bra on. It wasn’t the one from the day before; it was the cream one he’d gotten from that first boutique, the day they’d both bought punk outfits for CBGB. Gene reached beneath it, pushing past the tiny bit of lace edging to cup and squeeze one breast. Paul jerked, hips twitching forward in a quick spasm.
“Take it off,” Gene murmured. Paul sat up only enough to unhook the bra. He cast it aside, then reached down, hands returning to Gene’s hair. “You already look ravished, did you know that?”
“Just get back down there.”
“I mean it, though. I like seeing you this way.”
Paul’s face scrunched up, and instead of answering, he grabbed Gene by the head and shoved him back between his legs. Gene took the hint.
--
Gene got him through two orgasms with just his mouth and fingers. Paul’s legs felt like jelly by the end of it, and yet the oversensitivity he was accustomed to after a round wasn’t there at all. Just like before, he could definitely go again.
Gene had been warming him up to it; he knew it. Getting him ready. He was soaking wet still no matter how much Gene had lapped away at his pussy. Way wetter than he’d ever gotten alone. His clit was swollen and tender, nipples hard. At some point Gene had stripped down to his boxers, and now Paul was tugging them down, too, working at his dick as soon as they were off. Gene was on top of him, heavy against him, swearing softly under his breath with every stroke of Paul’s hand.
He was thinking about his first time. The real one. He’d thought that after, everything would be different.  He  would be different. More confident, more self-assured. But then he’d gone home, and realized he was still sleeping in the same bed, and still waking up to the sound of Ericka squalling in the crib. Still haunted by the same fears. He hadn’t changed. Nothing had shattered or expanded his worldview. He was still Stanley Eisen. He’d just gotten laid, that was all.
Now it was going to be different. Things were going to change. Even best case scenario, things were going to change. The drawing and the photo and all those clothes were going to be about the only physical reminders of the last several days. They’d go back on tour, and...
“You okay?” Gene’s expression was mildly strained. Probably because he’d stopped jacking him off. Paul figured he’d get him off early and delay everything another fifteen minutes at least if he wasn’t careful. Part of him didn’t want to be that careful. 
“Just thinking.” He exhaled softly. “I guess I kinda wanna apologize. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re doing great.” Gene’s eyes darted to the nightstand. “Paul, did you want to use a condom—”
Paul flinched and shook his head.
“Really?”
“I don’t like the feel.”
“I don’t either, but—”
“Besides, I’m pretty sure we’ve ended up with all the same V.D.s as it is.”
“I was more worried I might get you pregnant.”
“How would you—oh.” It took a minute for the realization to connect. Paul gnawed on his lip. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”
“Did she say?”
“No, but—” Paul cut himself off abruptly. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have with Gene right before sleeping with him. “If having sex once gets rid of the curse, that doesn’t leave any room to get pregnant.”
Gene nodded, though he still looked a bit wary.
“Besides, you’d take responsibility, right?” Paul said wryly. “Your mom’d be thrilled at you finally knocking up a nice Jewish girl instead of a Gentile—”
“Paul, I fucking swear you’re making me want to get that condom.”
Paul snorted.
“They’re at the very back of that drawer.”
He was surprised that Gene didn’t immediately go digging through the nightstand. More surprised when Gene shook his head instead.
“If you’re down to go without it, I am.” 
“All right.”
Give yourself up, Carol had said. He’d thought he knew what she’d meant. Letting him. But that wasn’t the whole of it. Letting his guard down. Letting himself get close enough and vulnerable enough to be hurt.
(give yourself up)
(give yourself up)
“I love you, Gene.”
Something seemed to shift. Paul wasn’t waiting on an answer in kind. It wouldn’t have been fair to expect. But Gene’s gaze on him seemed to get warmer. Gene’s lips pressed against his, hot and fervent, and almost more than he could bear. Gene’s hands coursed over his body like he was trying to memorize each inch of skin, leaving Paul almost too overwhelmed to respond at first. But he got there. He got there. His fingers traced over the muscles of Gene’s back, stroked down his chest as Gene’s mouth found his collarbone, kissing and nipping up the left side of his neck. Paul wanted a hold on him. He’d thought he was over being so hopeless, thought he was willing to let the cards fall as they might, but every touch rekindled his own desperation. He wanted some meaning, some sign that this wouldn’t be the last time. That there really would be something between them after. That Gene could still see him as someone worth wanting once this body was gone.
Gene rubbed the head of his cock against Paul’s slick folds, sending a shiver of anticipation straight through him. Paul started to tilt his hips into it, encouraged but nervous all at once. He’d had such a poor time trying to penetrate himself alone. But he felt like he was more open now, clit swollen and throbbing slightly, all the blood feeling like it’d long since gone straight between his legs and stayed there. Gene was looking at him for a go-ahead, and when Paul nodded, he finally began to push inside him, dissolving all the space between them. Paul’s breaths hitched, expecting more pain than he felt. It stung at first, enough that his eyes watered briefly, despite how wet he was, how much Gene had worked him up. The weirdness of the sensation, being stretched and filled in a way he never had before, still made him tense up, and he cursed softly. Gene’s eyebrows were knitted.
“You all right?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“You’re really tight, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not. Keep… ngh, keep going.”
Gene nodded, but he still looked a little wary. Paul took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves, get accustomed to the feeling, and after a few seconds, some of the pressure seemed to subside. His body was starting to not just accommodate Gene’s dick, but welcome it in. Faint sparks of pleasure coursed up his spine, and he started to wriggle his hips, trying to chase that sensation. He’d had his legs splayed flat against the bed to start, unsure of what to do with them—which was pretty stupid, honestly, given how many girls he’d had—but now he was shifting, wrapping his legs around the back of Gene’s thighs. Trying to tug him tighter in, get all the contact he could. Gene’s first thrusts were a little slow and shallow, uncertain. Paul could feel Gene’s gaze on him, the mix of concern and need all over his face. He reached up, tugging Gene down by the shoulder for another kiss and a little more reassurance.
“Gene, I’m okay. Keep going,” he repeated, breathing unsteady. “’M not made of glass here.” His other hand found Gene’s, braced against the mattress. Paul grabbed his wrist, and when Gene raised his hand, Paul took it, locking their fingers together, squeezing his palm.
“You got quiet on me. I want to make sure you’re feeling good.”
“I am. Promise.”
“You’ll tell me?”
Someone as sex-obsessed as Gene worried about his performance. At any other time, it might’ve been hilarious. It still was funny enough that Paul crooked a smile, although it made him feel a little heady, too.
“I’ll tell you. Now c’mon.” Paul untangled his legs from around Gene’s, raising them up and then locking them around Gene’s waist instead. It felt more secure there, the angle at least seemed better, maybe tighter, almost. Another thrust confirmed it. Paul moaned, grip on Gene’s hand tightening, cursing, encouraging. It wasn’t anything like being fucked as a guy, though he hadn’t expected it to be. It honestly felt a lot better. More nerve endings, much less resistance, something. He didn’t know. He was clamping down on Gene’s dick unconsciously, with Gene panting above him, his thrusts deeper and faster as the pressure mounted.
Gene squeezed his breast with his free hand, making Paul let out another sharp cry. Gene’s forehead was drenched in sweat before very long, his hair sticking to his skin, face contorted. Gene was watching him so intently it should have been intimidating. It was awhile before some of that intensity faded, before Gene really seemed to let go of any more misplaced caution. Touching and caressing and fucking him in a way he’d never be able to again. Paul couldn’t let himself think about that. His nails dug briefly into Gene’s palm, hips jerking of their own accord as Gene plunged into him again.
A day’s worth of fooling around with him hardly made Paul an expert, but Gene looked like he was closer than him. He wasn’t nearly as vocal as Paul, only groaning a bit, but his pace had started to get erratic, the hand in his getting almost as sweat-slicked as his face. Paul shivered. His own pleasure hadn’t been building the same way as when Gene had gone down on him; it was slower, steadier. Gene was following along with every moan, eagerly redoubling on whatever made Paul cry out, but there was some visible strain now. It wouldn’t be long until—
“I’m—please don’t stop, I’m getting there, I swear…” Paul trailed haphazardly. 
“What do you need?”
Gene’s words were so warm that Paul felt like he might burst. Gene had sat up a bit. There was finally a little bit of space between them. Paul wouldn’t have wanted that earlier, but now, taking Gene’s other hand, he realized it might be what he needed.
“Touch me while we fuck. Please, right—”
He couldn’t come out with it. It felt too bizarre to actually talk about any part of his current body, any part besides his breasts. He just grabbed Gene’s free hand, guiding it between his legs, to his clit.
Just the first few strokes of Gene’s fingertips against his clit made him shudder. Gene started thrusting again soon after, somehow invigorated-- he had to let go of Paul’s hand, brace his hand against his shoulder instead to keep his balance, but Paul didn’t mind, his vision starting to swim as he felt himself get to the edge again and again. It wasn’t just the need welling up within him, amped up by Gene’s hand; it went deeper. He felt like he was encompassed by Gene. No. Tangled, entwined with him. For a few brief seconds he was all sensation, no fear, no insecurities, melded with Gene as one. No matter what happened after, that feeling of belonging he’d craved so desperately all his life was right there, right now, with him.
“Oh, oh, fuck, Paul…”
It wasn’t simultaneous, but it was close. He couldn’t feel it when Gene came inside him, but he could see it, hear it in the sudden, softly mumbled curses. Between that and Gene’s fingers still working him, it was enough to push Paul to climax before long, screaming Gene’s name in a ragged syllable. The orgasm seemed to stretch a little longer than the others, leaving him panting against Gene as both their bodies stilled.
“You did so good,” Gene said finally. He was smiling, tugging Paul in close, rolling him to the side. Paul wrapped his arms around him tight, crooked a smile back.
“You were pretty good yourself.”
Gene hadn’t pulled out yet. That was an odd sensation, too, Gene going soft inside him. He liked it. It was like Gene had forgotten who he was with, forgotten they were supposed to have just broken a curse. Like he wanted to keep him there. Keep them together. Paul could hold onto that thought for a long time—but then, he still had his legs wrapped around Gene’s waist, too. It was a few more moments before Paul convinced himself to let go, legs dropping to the mattress.
He was kind of sore, not surprisingly, even in the afterglow, and once Gene withdrew, he could already start to feel some wetness seeping out from his pussy. Come or blood or both. His cheek rested against Gene’s chest, and he waited. Gene’s gaze on him was mild, arms around him steadying, but Paul knew he was waiting, too. 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’s gonna be.”
“Paul, don’t be sorry.”
“I didn’t feel anything last time.” He’d meant it to ease any fears Gene might have over him transforming back, but instead he kept going, weirdly compelled. “Well, I thought my nipples were kind of sore the night before, but…”
“But it didn’t hurt?”
“No. I-I…”
“Paul?” Suddenly, strangely, Gene’s expression seemed to flicker. The whole room did. He felt tired, far more tired than he should have. There was an inordinate heaviness to his limbs, his body, one he couldn’t shake off, couldn’t struggle against for more than the moment it took to mouth Gene’s name, just before his world went white.
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