Porn-o-matic
Well, it's not all porn. Mostly, though. This is what happens when I'm bored at work and remember that awhile ago justmightbe issued a challenge to write fics based on our top five favorite kinks list. I was waiting for her to set up the challenge community she was talking about, but...well, anyway, five ficlets. They started out as five drabbles, but that quickly spiraled out of control. 100 words just isn't enough.
One of these is a new-to-me (and new to the internet, as far as I know) Disneyslash fandom, because I thought it might help me to write the 'how they get together' Dean/Andrew Motocrossed fic if I wrote a little frantic teenage boy sex first. We'll see how that theory pans out. But hey, NC17 Disney slash. Take that, Eisner.
I. Sucking - Tommy/Merton (PG)
It aches a little when he touches it, poking a finger into the darkest spot at the center of the bruise. He does it again because he likes the pain, likes the memory of that hot mouth latched onto his neck and the burn when Tommy sucked on his skin.
He touches it again as he stands in front of his closet, chilly in a pair of boxers and he fingers a black turtleneck for a second before he changes his mind. Tommy marked him, and he has every intention of showing it off. Dark red button-down instead, the color of blood to match the mark and open at the neck so the whole school can see when he walks down the halls.
When he gets to school he has his first flash of panic, a little regret because he's a lot braver when the whole school's not looking at him. But the stares give him a little thrill, and when he reaches their lockers and finds Tommy waiting for him there's a flash of yellow in his eyes. Just for a second, and anybody else would miss it, but Merton sees, and he knows he made the right choice.
II. Finger fucking - Nick/Greg (NC17)
"Harder." He grunts the word, pressing down as he says it and a hand catches his knee, right up underneath where the skin's soft, pushing his legs wider and wider until he's sure he'll split right open.
Another finger pushes in and he sighs into the burn, forcing his eyes open long enough to catch the intense concentration on Nick's face. He's pretty sure he could come just from that, but he fights back the urge because he wants this to last. Forever, if possible, but he knows it's not and when Nick finds that spot inside him he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut again.
A soft laugh breaks the silence and he smiles, eyes still closed and lips parted in a silent 'o' of pleasure as Nick's fingers work in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. He's going to die if he doesn't come soon - he knows he can't take much more, but if this is his last moment on Earth he can't think of a better way to go.
Nick's fingers press a little deeper, dragging a broken moan out of him and he had no idea it was possible to stretch open that far. It feels like he's being pulled apart in the best way possible, Nick's free hand still pushing his knee up toward his chest and warm lips ghost across the side of his calf.
"Touch yourself," Nick murmurs, and Greg's cock twitches at the sound of that voice as he reaches down to obey, hand on his cock and he hears the shaky moan Nick lets out as he watches Greg's hand moving faster and faster. Nick's fingers are still working in and out of him, finding a rhythm and he matches it with his own strokes, pressing down with each thrust until white sparks flash behind his eyes and he comes, whole body shaking with the release.
He thinks he might black out for a second or two, because when he opens his eyes again his legs are stretched out on the mattress, whole body limp and he's positive he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Nick's mouth is on his stomach, licking him clean and murmuring words like 'beautiful' and 'incredible' and a whole litany of other things that Nick Doesn't Say, and God…his fingers are still buried inside Greg.
He gathers the last of his strength and squeezes hard around them, laughing against Nick's mouth when the other man moans and leans up to press their lips together. Then he's pushing Greg's knees apart with his free hand, and Greg knows this is only the beginning, but there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
III. Begging - Lori/Becky (NC17)
A soft 'oh' escapes her lips, mouth open and her hands gripping the sheets. Becky's fingers move in hard circles on her clit, and she pushes up into it, seeking just a little more, just that extra little bit of pressure.
A frustrated groan when Becky's hand shifts lower, teasing her now and Lori's jaw is clenched so tight she's sure it's going to break. "Bec, please…"
Becky laughs against her skin - fucking laughs, and she's so going to pay for that when Lori can think straight again. "Please what?"
Lori opens her eyes to find Becky smiling, all wide-eyed innocence as her thumb ghosts across Becky's clit, and she had to go and fall in love with a tease. She thinks about holding out, about pushing Becky off her and turning the tables, but she's so close, too close to do more than push up against the fingers still moving against her. "Tease."
Another laugh, but this time Becky leans close, lips pressed together for a kiss that's all tongue and desperation, her fingers finally sinking into Lori and she swallows a sob. They're moving together, Becky's tongue working in and out of her mouth in time with her fingers, thumb pressing hard against Lori's clit and she hears herself murmuring against Becky's mouth, still begging for it but she doesn't even care.
She knows she'll pay for it later, when Becky's teasing her about all the things she'd never say to anyone else, but it's worth it when Becky pushes just a little deeper, thumb rubbing harder now and Lori arches up against her as her orgasm overtakes her. She opens her eyes enough to see Becky's smug grin, watches her lift three fingers to her mouth and suck, and part of Lori hates that she wants Becky even more when she's being such a brat.
And she plans on making her pay for it, just as soon as she catches her breath.
IV. Premature ejaculation -- Dean/Andrew (NC17)
He barely remembers the final flag or the announcement, the blur of the crowd pressing in on him and a trophy being pressed into his hand. He's pretty sure cameras were going off around them and he remembers vividly the moment Dean gripped his hand and held their arms up in a gesture of victory, fingers pressing against his even through his gloves and he's so far gone if he gets off on such an innocuous touch.
But none of that matters, not the reporters firing questions he answered on automatic pilot or the pats on the back from the other riders or even the fact that he won the race. Nothing matters except Dean dragging him away from the crowd the moment it was safe, pushing him into their trailer and not even stopping long enough to let him pull his pads off before he was kissing Andrew.
His back's flat against the door, the handle digging into his hip but he barely feels it through his leathers. And even if he was naked he wouldn't feel it, because every nerve ending in his body is centered on the mouth moving against his, tongue pushing past his teeth and God…Dean's watching him. His eyes are wide open, darker blue than usual and his hands are on Andrew's wrists, pushing his arms back against the door and pressing closer, whole body holding Andrew in place.
Not that he's planning to go anywhere, because he's been thinking about this all day and if the way Dean's kissing him is anything to go by, he has too. It's dangerous even now, because his parents are probably looking for him and if they found him like this - found him and Dean like this - Andrew has no idea what they'd do. That's not enough to make him stop, though, not when Dean's hands are leaving his wrists to tug at his leathers, trying to find an opening without breaking the kiss.
It's never been this urgent before, not even the first time when the rest of the family went…somewhere and he and Dean were alone in his room. That time was terrifying, slower than this and a little awkward, and hot enough to make him hard just by thinking about it. But this…this is all want and need and Dean kissing him like he needs Andrew to breathe, and he can't stop himself from thrusting against the other boy, cock straining against his uniform and oh, God, he's going to come in his leathers.
He tries to slow down, tries to relax and let Dean pull him out of his pants, at least, but he has no idea how much time they've got before they're interrupted and when he hears a door slam somewhere in the distance he gasps against Dean's mouth and comes.
For a few horrible seconds all he can do is close his eyes and ride out the wave of pleasure, arched hard against Dean and that mouth is still moving on him, feathering frantic kisses along his jaw, his cheek, across his parted lips. When the last shudder finally subsides he flushes, hot shame creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. "Oh, God," he hears himself murmur, starts to say something lame like 'sorry' but before he gets the word out Dean's kissing him again.
"God, that was hot," Dean whispers when he pulls away, hands on Andrew's hips to turn him until Dean's the one with his back against the door. "You make me crazy. Even watching you ride…"
And he can't listen to this, not without blushing all over again, so he shuts Dean up with a kiss and tugs his jeans open with shaking fingers, shoves a hand inside and wraps it around Dean's cock. A few strokes is all it takes before Dean's coming too, thrusting hard into the circle of his fist and gripping Andrew's shoulders. And he looks beautiful when he comes, not that Andrew would ever say that out loud, but he can't help leaning in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along Dean's neck.
When he finally stops shaking Andrew lets go, fingers sticky with Dean's come and now they both need a shower. He needs to get out of his leathers, too, because it's hotter in the trailer than it is outside and he's already burning up. He can't resist one last kiss, though, softer this time and when he pulls away Dean's still watching him. "You wanna go for a swim? I know this place, nobody ever goes there."
He's nodding before Dean even finishes his sentence, not even sure what he just agreed to but it doesn't matter, because he'll do whatever Dean wants. Another quick kiss and he finally lets go, tugging at his uniform as he backs toward the bedroom they share when they're on the road. "Let me just change."
"Hurry," Dean says, eyes dark again and it's all Andrew can do not to march right back over to him and start all over again. But they both need to rinse off, and the lake's as good a place as the shower. Even better, really, because this way Andrew gets to touch all he wants without worrying about his parents walking in on them.
V. Kissing - Speed/Tyler (PG13)
"So we're really gonna do this."
"It was your idea," Tyler reminds him, as though he hasn't been fantasizing about this day since the first morning they woke up tangled together in his bed. And okay, maybe he wasn't thinking about mortgages and joint equity, but the word 'forever' definitely crossed his mind even way back then. He's always been one of those guys who believes the adage 'when it's right, you know', so he didn't really mind waiting around for Tim to catch up with him.
And he's all caught up now, standing in the empty bedroom of the tenth house they've looked at, frowning at white walls that could use a coat of paint and the window that gives them the perfect southern exposure. It's a big leap, though, and Tyler has a feeling he still needs a little convincing, so he glances over his shoulder to make sure the realtor hasn't resurfaced before he closes the distance between them.
"Maybe we should make sure," he says, one hand on Tim's waist and the other threading through his hair to pull him forward, lips soft against his and when Tim's mouth opens against him he sighs into the kiss. Strong hands land on his hips, fingers squeezing just enough to let him know Tim's been thinking about this for awhile. It's the third house they've seen this morning and they're both tired of looking, tired of being on their best behavior and keeping their hands to themselves because their realtor's explaining the history of each property.
He's spent the whole morning stealing little touches, a hand on Tim's back as they pass through a doorway or a quick squeeze of his hand when they're walking to the car, knowing looks exchanged over Andrea the too-perky realtor's head and trying not to laugh when Tim rolls his eyes at her exclamations of 'charming' and 'priced to sell'. House hunting as an aphrodisiac, and he never would have believed it if he hadn't spent the whole morning fighting the urge to grab Tim's hand and drag him into the nearest closet.
He has a feeling it's more than looking at empty rooms with beige carpet - the turn-on is the part where Tim wants to make this commitment, wants Tyler in his life long enough to sign a thirty-year mortgage. And it's just a piece of paper, just a legally binding agreement, but that's all a marriage certificate is and even though he'd never say it out loud, this feels a little like the same kind of commitment.
Tim's hands move across his back, pushing up under his shirt and Tyler smiles against his mouth, because he likes that Tim can never get enough of his skin. He likes that he's relaxed enough to do this here, where Andrea could walk in on them any second. And it's not like she doesn't know they're a couple - Tyler made that clear when he called to make their first appointment, but even after all this time Tim still has a hard time with public displays of affection.
Tim's tongue traces his bottom lip, teeth grazing his skin and Tyler sighs again, wraps his arms a little tighter around Tim's neck as he feathers soft kisses along Tyler's jaw. His cheek feels rough against Tyler's skin, and when Tyler remembers why he didn't have time to shave before they left their apartment he lets out a shudder. He imagines that rough skin against other parts of his body, Tim's mouth moving on his stomach, his thighs, his cock, and suddenly he wishes they were home where he wouldn't have to drag himself away from kisses he could get lost in.
"So," he whispers against Tim's mouth when their lips meet again, punctuating the word with a firm kiss, "can you picture us doing this in here every night?"
A soft laugh and Tim's hands slide up his back to knead at his shoulders. He pulls away from Tyler to glance around the room again, taking in the same four white walls and the same beige carpet. "Yeah," he finally answers, "I think I can see that."
One of these is a new-to-me (and new to the internet, as far as I know) Disneyslash fandom, because I thought it might help me to write the 'how they get together' Dean/Andrew Motocrossed fic if I wrote a little frantic teenage boy sex first. We'll see how that theory pans out. But hey, NC17 Disney slash. Take that, Eisner.
I. Sucking - Tommy/Merton (PG)
It aches a little when he touches it, poking a finger into the darkest spot at the center of the bruise. He does it again because he likes the pain, likes the memory of that hot mouth latched onto his neck and the burn when Tommy sucked on his skin.
He touches it again as he stands in front of his closet, chilly in a pair of boxers and he fingers a black turtleneck for a second before he changes his mind. Tommy marked him, and he has every intention of showing it off. Dark red button-down instead, the color of blood to match the mark and open at the neck so the whole school can see when he walks down the halls.
When he gets to school he has his first flash of panic, a little regret because he's a lot braver when the whole school's not looking at him. But the stares give him a little thrill, and when he reaches their lockers and finds Tommy waiting for him there's a flash of yellow in his eyes. Just for a second, and anybody else would miss it, but Merton sees, and he knows he made the right choice.
II. Finger fucking - Nick/Greg (NC17)
"Harder." He grunts the word, pressing down as he says it and a hand catches his knee, right up underneath where the skin's soft, pushing his legs wider and wider until he's sure he'll split right open.
Another finger pushes in and he sighs into the burn, forcing his eyes open long enough to catch the intense concentration on Nick's face. He's pretty sure he could come just from that, but he fights back the urge because he wants this to last. Forever, if possible, but he knows it's not and when Nick finds that spot inside him he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut again.
A soft laugh breaks the silence and he smiles, eyes still closed and lips parted in a silent 'o' of pleasure as Nick's fingers work in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. He's going to die if he doesn't come soon - he knows he can't take much more, but if this is his last moment on Earth he can't think of a better way to go.
Nick's fingers press a little deeper, dragging a broken moan out of him and he had no idea it was possible to stretch open that far. It feels like he's being pulled apart in the best way possible, Nick's free hand still pushing his knee up toward his chest and warm lips ghost across the side of his calf.
"Touch yourself," Nick murmurs, and Greg's cock twitches at the sound of that voice as he reaches down to obey, hand on his cock and he hears the shaky moan Nick lets out as he watches Greg's hand moving faster and faster. Nick's fingers are still working in and out of him, finding a rhythm and he matches it with his own strokes, pressing down with each thrust until white sparks flash behind his eyes and he comes, whole body shaking with the release.
He thinks he might black out for a second or two, because when he opens his eyes again his legs are stretched out on the mattress, whole body limp and he's positive he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Nick's mouth is on his stomach, licking him clean and murmuring words like 'beautiful' and 'incredible' and a whole litany of other things that Nick Doesn't Say, and God…his fingers are still buried inside Greg.
He gathers the last of his strength and squeezes hard around them, laughing against Nick's mouth when the other man moans and leans up to press their lips together. Then he's pushing Greg's knees apart with his free hand, and Greg knows this is only the beginning, but there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
III. Begging - Lori/Becky (NC17)
A soft 'oh' escapes her lips, mouth open and her hands gripping the sheets. Becky's fingers move in hard circles on her clit, and she pushes up into it, seeking just a little more, just that extra little bit of pressure.
A frustrated groan when Becky's hand shifts lower, teasing her now and Lori's jaw is clenched so tight she's sure it's going to break. "Bec, please…"
Becky laughs against her skin - fucking laughs, and she's so going to pay for that when Lori can think straight again. "Please what?"
Lori opens her eyes to find Becky smiling, all wide-eyed innocence as her thumb ghosts across Becky's clit, and she had to go and fall in love with a tease. She thinks about holding out, about pushing Becky off her and turning the tables, but she's so close, too close to do more than push up against the fingers still moving against her. "Tease."
Another laugh, but this time Becky leans close, lips pressed together for a kiss that's all tongue and desperation, her fingers finally sinking into Lori and she swallows a sob. They're moving together, Becky's tongue working in and out of her mouth in time with her fingers, thumb pressing hard against Lori's clit and she hears herself murmuring against Becky's mouth, still begging for it but she doesn't even care.
She knows she'll pay for it later, when Becky's teasing her about all the things she'd never say to anyone else, but it's worth it when Becky pushes just a little deeper, thumb rubbing harder now and Lori arches up against her as her orgasm overtakes her. She opens her eyes enough to see Becky's smug grin, watches her lift three fingers to her mouth and suck, and part of Lori hates that she wants Becky even more when she's being such a brat.
And she plans on making her pay for it, just as soon as she catches her breath.
IV. Premature ejaculation -- Dean/Andrew (NC17)
He barely remembers the final flag or the announcement, the blur of the crowd pressing in on him and a trophy being pressed into his hand. He's pretty sure cameras were going off around them and he remembers vividly the moment Dean gripped his hand and held their arms up in a gesture of victory, fingers pressing against his even through his gloves and he's so far gone if he gets off on such an innocuous touch.
But none of that matters, not the reporters firing questions he answered on automatic pilot or the pats on the back from the other riders or even the fact that he won the race. Nothing matters except Dean dragging him away from the crowd the moment it was safe, pushing him into their trailer and not even stopping long enough to let him pull his pads off before he was kissing Andrew.
His back's flat against the door, the handle digging into his hip but he barely feels it through his leathers. And even if he was naked he wouldn't feel it, because every nerve ending in his body is centered on the mouth moving against his, tongue pushing past his teeth and God…Dean's watching him. His eyes are wide open, darker blue than usual and his hands are on Andrew's wrists, pushing his arms back against the door and pressing closer, whole body holding Andrew in place.
Not that he's planning to go anywhere, because he's been thinking about this all day and if the way Dean's kissing him is anything to go by, he has too. It's dangerous even now, because his parents are probably looking for him and if they found him like this - found him and Dean like this - Andrew has no idea what they'd do. That's not enough to make him stop, though, not when Dean's hands are leaving his wrists to tug at his leathers, trying to find an opening without breaking the kiss.
It's never been this urgent before, not even the first time when the rest of the family went…somewhere and he and Dean were alone in his room. That time was terrifying, slower than this and a little awkward, and hot enough to make him hard just by thinking about it. But this…this is all want and need and Dean kissing him like he needs Andrew to breathe, and he can't stop himself from thrusting against the other boy, cock straining against his uniform and oh, God, he's going to come in his leathers.
He tries to slow down, tries to relax and let Dean pull him out of his pants, at least, but he has no idea how much time they've got before they're interrupted and when he hears a door slam somewhere in the distance he gasps against Dean's mouth and comes.
For a few horrible seconds all he can do is close his eyes and ride out the wave of pleasure, arched hard against Dean and that mouth is still moving on him, feathering frantic kisses along his jaw, his cheek, across his parted lips. When the last shudder finally subsides he flushes, hot shame creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. "Oh, God," he hears himself murmur, starts to say something lame like 'sorry' but before he gets the word out Dean's kissing him again.
"God, that was hot," Dean whispers when he pulls away, hands on Andrew's hips to turn him until Dean's the one with his back against the door. "You make me crazy. Even watching you ride…"
And he can't listen to this, not without blushing all over again, so he shuts Dean up with a kiss and tugs his jeans open with shaking fingers, shoves a hand inside and wraps it around Dean's cock. A few strokes is all it takes before Dean's coming too, thrusting hard into the circle of his fist and gripping Andrew's shoulders. And he looks beautiful when he comes, not that Andrew would ever say that out loud, but he can't help leaning in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along Dean's neck.
When he finally stops shaking Andrew lets go, fingers sticky with Dean's come and now they both need a shower. He needs to get out of his leathers, too, because it's hotter in the trailer than it is outside and he's already burning up. He can't resist one last kiss, though, softer this time and when he pulls away Dean's still watching him. "You wanna go for a swim? I know this place, nobody ever goes there."
He's nodding before Dean even finishes his sentence, not even sure what he just agreed to but it doesn't matter, because he'll do whatever Dean wants. Another quick kiss and he finally lets go, tugging at his uniform as he backs toward the bedroom they share when they're on the road. "Let me just change."
"Hurry," Dean says, eyes dark again and it's all Andrew can do not to march right back over to him and start all over again. But they both need to rinse off, and the lake's as good a place as the shower. Even better, really, because this way Andrew gets to touch all he wants without worrying about his parents walking in on them.
V. Kissing - Speed/Tyler (PG13)
"So we're really gonna do this."
"It was your idea," Tyler reminds him, as though he hasn't been fantasizing about this day since the first morning they woke up tangled together in his bed. And okay, maybe he wasn't thinking about mortgages and joint equity, but the word 'forever' definitely crossed his mind even way back then. He's always been one of those guys who believes the adage 'when it's right, you know', so he didn't really mind waiting around for Tim to catch up with him.
And he's all caught up now, standing in the empty bedroom of the tenth house they've looked at, frowning at white walls that could use a coat of paint and the window that gives them the perfect southern exposure. It's a big leap, though, and Tyler has a feeling he still needs a little convincing, so he glances over his shoulder to make sure the realtor hasn't resurfaced before he closes the distance between them.
"Maybe we should make sure," he says, one hand on Tim's waist and the other threading through his hair to pull him forward, lips soft against his and when Tim's mouth opens against him he sighs into the kiss. Strong hands land on his hips, fingers squeezing just enough to let him know Tim's been thinking about this for awhile. It's the third house they've seen this morning and they're both tired of looking, tired of being on their best behavior and keeping their hands to themselves because their realtor's explaining the history of each property.
He's spent the whole morning stealing little touches, a hand on Tim's back as they pass through a doorway or a quick squeeze of his hand when they're walking to the car, knowing looks exchanged over Andrea the too-perky realtor's head and trying not to laugh when Tim rolls his eyes at her exclamations of 'charming' and 'priced to sell'. House hunting as an aphrodisiac, and he never would have believed it if he hadn't spent the whole morning fighting the urge to grab Tim's hand and drag him into the nearest closet.
He has a feeling it's more than looking at empty rooms with beige carpet - the turn-on is the part where Tim wants to make this commitment, wants Tyler in his life long enough to sign a thirty-year mortgage. And it's just a piece of paper, just a legally binding agreement, but that's all a marriage certificate is and even though he'd never say it out loud, this feels a little like the same kind of commitment.
Tim's hands move across his back, pushing up under his shirt and Tyler smiles against his mouth, because he likes that Tim can never get enough of his skin. He likes that he's relaxed enough to do this here, where Andrea could walk in on them any second. And it's not like she doesn't know they're a couple - Tyler made that clear when he called to make their first appointment, but even after all this time Tim still has a hard time with public displays of affection.
Tim's tongue traces his bottom lip, teeth grazing his skin and Tyler sighs again, wraps his arms a little tighter around Tim's neck as he feathers soft kisses along Tyler's jaw. His cheek feels rough against Tyler's skin, and when Tyler remembers why he didn't have time to shave before they left their apartment he lets out a shudder. He imagines that rough skin against other parts of his body, Tim's mouth moving on his stomach, his thighs, his cock, and suddenly he wishes they were home where he wouldn't have to drag himself away from kisses he could get lost in.
"So," he whispers against Tim's mouth when their lips meet again, punctuating the word with a firm kiss, "can you picture us doing this in here every night?"
A soft laugh and Tim's hands slide up his back to knead at his shoulders. He pulls away from Tyler to glance around the room again, taking in the same four white walls and the same beige carpet. "Yeah," he finally answers, "I think I can see that."