FIC: At Her Back, NC-17, Supernatural
Title: At Her Back
Author: elementalv
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Missouri Moseley/John Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
kink_bingo Square: sleepy/unconscious
Notes: Smooches to Malnpudl for doing a late-night beta on this.
Summary: She’s halfway between awake and asleep, and she’s too comfortable to even consider acknowledging him when he crawls into bed behind her, smelling of the road and maybe too much whisky.
Also posted at AO3
~*~*~
She’s halfway between awake and asleep, and she’s too comfortable to even consider acknowledging him when he crawls into bed behind her, smelling of the road and maybe too much whisky. On the other hand, it’s him all the way through, and she’s grown used to it over the years, enough that even a faint whiff of motor oil is enough to get her hot and bothered, no matter where she is. Times like that, she’s happy no one can tell what’s going through her mind.
He whispers, “Mo?” and she thinks about saying something - like maybe her name is Missouri, not Mo, and does he really think she looks like one of the Three Stooges? - but again, she’s far too comfortable and relaxed to bother, especially with John’s scent working the same magic on her it always does. She catches a flash of what he’s thinking, and that’s more than all right with her. She’d had an inkling of what might be on his mind when he finally rolled in, and because of that, she’s lying on her right side with her left leg pushed forward.
It’s not a lot of room, and she would be the first to admit it if she were closer to awake than asleep, but John’s a smart man. Inventive, even. Missouri doesn’t doubt for one minute he’ll figure out how to settle himself into her warmth without too much fuss and bother. Another moment later, she can feel him nudging at her back. She thinks about telling him his aim is off, but that would mean effort, and after the day she’s had, effort is pretty much the last thing she wants to expend, even for him.
He mutters something, and it better not be a curse or taking the Lord’s name in vain, because then she’d have to get up, and that wouldn’t make either of them happy. But John doesn’t say anything else. He just pokes his dick down where it belongs and uses a cautious finger to guide himself in before tucking his own left leg behind hers and moving it forward just a bit more. Missouri might or might not make a noise of approval just then. She means to, because John’s dick is nice and wide, and it stretches her enough to make her think about waking up some to enjoy the ride even more. But it’s only thinking, because she really is tired, and if it were anyone but John Winchester, she would have locked the back door along with the front before she went to bed.
John doesn’t know any of what Missouri is thinking, and that’s fine with her, because he eases right in, and oh, does it feel good, having him in her. His rhythm is slow and maybe even lazy, but it’s all the better for the lack of hurry. He shifts himself around, careful not to move too fast as he settles his arm around her waist and shifts his hand just enough to find one of her nipples, which are already aching from standing up so quickly at his touch. He’s got a gentle hand on him, doesn’t maul at her the way some men have, and she wonders sometimes if she has poor Mary Winchester to thank for teaching her man to treat a woman’s breasts with some respect.
Missouri would be perfectly content to fall asleep like this, with John’s dick snug inside her, his fingers fondling her nipple, and his face buried in the back of her neck. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt quite as safe as she does right at that moment, like there’s nothing that can get through him - through them - like the two of them together are more powerful than they could ever be apart. But as nice as that dream is, she knows it’s a dream and nothing more. Come morning, he’ll be grumbling into his eggs about some new lead or another, and the thought of it is almost enough to irritate her into full wakefulness. But then John moves his hand down again, and she shudders a little at the pure pleasure he gently starts teasing out of her.
And maybe now’s the time she should wake up and help him out some, but John’s rhythm is still slow and steady, and as wet as she’s getting, she’s not in that much of a rush either. They’ll get there tonight, or they’ll get there in the morning. It doesn’t much matter to Missouri, as long as she’s tucked safe and secure in her bed with a warm man at her back and the promise of a beautiful morning when she wakes up.
This entry was originally posted at http://elementalv.dreamwidth.org/12216.html. Comments wherever. I’m easy.
Author: elementalv
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Missouri Moseley/John Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
kink_bingo Square: sleepy/unconscious
Notes: Smooches to Malnpudl for doing a late-night beta on this.
Summary: She’s halfway between awake and asleep, and she’s too comfortable to even consider acknowledging him when he crawls into bed behind her, smelling of the road and maybe too much whisky.
Also posted at AO3
~*~*~
She’s halfway between awake and asleep, and she’s too comfortable to even consider acknowledging him when he crawls into bed behind her, smelling of the road and maybe too much whisky. On the other hand, it’s him all the way through, and she’s grown used to it over the years, enough that even a faint whiff of motor oil is enough to get her hot and bothered, no matter where she is. Times like that, she’s happy no one can tell what’s going through her mind.
He whispers, “Mo?” and she thinks about saying something - like maybe her name is Missouri, not Mo, and does he really think she looks like one of the Three Stooges? - but again, she’s far too comfortable and relaxed to bother, especially with John’s scent working the same magic on her it always does. She catches a flash of what he’s thinking, and that’s more than all right with her. She’d had an inkling of what might be on his mind when he finally rolled in, and because of that, she’s lying on her right side with her left leg pushed forward.
It’s not a lot of room, and she would be the first to admit it if she were closer to awake than asleep, but John’s a smart man. Inventive, even. Missouri doesn’t doubt for one minute he’ll figure out how to settle himself into her warmth without too much fuss and bother. Another moment later, she can feel him nudging at her back. She thinks about telling him his aim is off, but that would mean effort, and after the day she’s had, effort is pretty much the last thing she wants to expend, even for him.
He mutters something, and it better not be a curse or taking the Lord’s name in vain, because then she’d have to get up, and that wouldn’t make either of them happy. But John doesn’t say anything else. He just pokes his dick down where it belongs and uses a cautious finger to guide himself in before tucking his own left leg behind hers and moving it forward just a bit more. Missouri might or might not make a noise of approval just then. She means to, because John’s dick is nice and wide, and it stretches her enough to make her think about waking up some to enjoy the ride even more. But it’s only thinking, because she really is tired, and if it were anyone but John Winchester, she would have locked the back door along with the front before she went to bed.
John doesn’t know any of what Missouri is thinking, and that’s fine with her, because he eases right in, and oh, does it feel good, having him in her. His rhythm is slow and maybe even lazy, but it’s all the better for the lack of hurry. He shifts himself around, careful not to move too fast as he settles his arm around her waist and shifts his hand just enough to find one of her nipples, which are already aching from standing up so quickly at his touch. He’s got a gentle hand on him, doesn’t maul at her the way some men have, and she wonders sometimes if she has poor Mary Winchester to thank for teaching her man to treat a woman’s breasts with some respect.
Missouri would be perfectly content to fall asleep like this, with John’s dick snug inside her, his fingers fondling her nipple, and his face buried in the back of her neck. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt quite as safe as she does right at that moment, like there’s nothing that can get through him - through them - like the two of them together are more powerful than they could ever be apart. But as nice as that dream is, she knows it’s a dream and nothing more. Come morning, he’ll be grumbling into his eggs about some new lead or another, and the thought of it is almost enough to irritate her into full wakefulness. But then John moves his hand down again, and she shudders a little at the pure pleasure he gently starts teasing out of her.
And maybe now’s the time she should wake up and help him out some, but John’s rhythm is still slow and steady, and as wet as she’s getting, she’s not in that much of a rush either. They’ll get there tonight, or they’ll get there in the morning. It doesn’t much matter to Missouri, as long as she’s tucked safe and secure in her bed with a warm man at her back and the promise of a beautiful morning when she wakes up.
This entry was originally posted at http://elementalv.dreamwidth.org/12216.html. Comments wherever. I’m easy.