FIC: "Texts From Last Night Part Two," Various, Multiple, Etc
Title: Texts from Last Night Part Two
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: See cut-tag
Pairing: See cut-tag
Word Count: 1,915
Category: PWP, humor
Spoilers: Nothing too major, I assume.
Disclaimer: None of these lovely people belong to me in any way, shape or form.
Rating: See cut-tag
Warnings: Awful, horrible language in some of the texts used as prompts. Seriously, people, clean up your drunken language!
Author's Notes: Written for the Multifandom Texts From Last Night Ficathon!
Summary: You know those nights when you got drunk and sent a text you really shouldn't have? It happens to these people, too.
Sanctuary - Helen/Charlotte
(+44): I dunno. Last time I went there I got sexually propositioned by a Belgian prince.
Charlotte stared at her phone, laughed, and opened a new message to send a reply. "A Belgian prince? Really? What did that entail?" She was in bed in her hotel room, plotting what she and Helen would do when they got together over the weekend. The idea of seeing her again was thrilling, and the fact Helen could literally travel anywhere in the world opened up all kinds of possibilities. And not just possibilities of sexy flight attendant-in-the-cockpit fantasies coming true.
Although that had happened.
Thrice.
They were debating an overseas trip, just the two of them, but there was some debate about the actual country. She was in her pajamas, having already completed the impromptu sexting at the beginning of the call. She was typing with her left hand, since the fingers of her right were still a little sore. She had taken a bath before going to bed, and her sweat from their flirtation actually felt good on her scrubbed skin. She curled her toes under the blankets as she stared at the silent phone, waiting impatiently for a reply. Helen was great at many things, but the woman was an insufferably slow typist.
She was about to send Helen a second message when she received a reply.
"The proposition from a Belgian prince? It was mostly syrup-related. Waffles as foreplay."
Charlotte laughed out loud and covered her mouth. "Oh, Helen..." She bit her bottom lip and typed a reply. "Sounds sticky."
"He had his valet present to clean up spills."
Charlotte gulped. "Sounds kinky. Who else was there?"
"Just the three of us. But it was enough, trust me."
"I've never had a threesome. Thought about it, though."
"Random thought, or suggestion for an activity this weekend?"
Charlotte stared at the text for a long moment, unsure if she should take it seriously or treat it as a joke. She ran her thumb over the screen and opened a reply.
"I certainly wouldn't know of anyone I'd want to share you with."
She could almost hear Helen chuckling. "I have some options if you'd like a list. Man or woman?
Charlotte didn't have to think about that. "If we're going to do it, a woman. Def."
"That narrows things down. Let me think of who I know."
Charlotte gulped. "We don't have to do it this weekend. We should do it right."
"I want you to be comfortable. How about this: we enjoy this weekend by ourselves and, in our 'downtime,' we discuss taking the... shall we say, logistics?"
Charlotte put the phone down and rubbed her face with both hands. Oh, the things she'd done since she met Helen Magnus. Things she never would have considered before. And how many of them had she regretted afterward? She picked up the phone and typed a text. "It should be a stranger."
"Go on."
She shivered. How could Helen convey a seductive coo in a four-letter text message? She cleared her throat and forced herself to compose a coherent message. "It should be someone we choose together. Someone we can seduce together. We approach her as a couple."
"Sounds splendid. There's a bar in Cancun I've never left alone."
Charlotte wet her lips with a pass of her tongue. "So. Cancun this weekend?"
"I'll pack my swimsuit."
"don't bother." She could almost hear Helen's laughter, but she wasn't embarrassed.
"As you wish. I should let you get to sleep. You have a lot of traveling ahead of you, and the pilot will need her refreshments."
Charlotte chuckled. "Can't wait. See you in the morning."
"Why so long? I'll be seeing you in about ten minutes when I close my eyes."
Charlotte's heart skipped a beat. "I love you, Helen."
"And I love you. Goodnight, Charlotte."
Charlotte sent a goodnight message, set her phone to silent, and plugged it in so it could charge while she slept. She turned off the lamp and sank under the blankets, gathering them around her shoulders as she looked out the window of her hotel room. She was shaking, her mind racing with the possibilities of what awaited her in Cancun. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, focusing her thoughts on Helen so they could dream of each other.
Her last thought before drifting off was that she hoped they could find a redhead in Cancun.
*
Castle - Kate & Alexis
(732) I find it simply astounding you spelled drunken wrong but pterodactyl right.
"Congratulations Det Beckett! You're the proud receiver of my 1st ever drunkin text. My friend Button is trying to ride a pterodactyl."
"I find it simply astounding you spelled drunken wrong but pterodactyl right. Does your dad know where you are?"
"It was his idea. 21 birthday and all."
"Happy birthday! That's a big one!"
"TY!"
"Where did you find a pterodactyl?"
"I'm not convinced it really isone but Button wants to try."
"O I C. You're not calling me to bail you out if it turns out to be someone's pet golden retriever, right?"
"Dad said he has the bail money all ready."
"Certainly sounds like Castle. I'm honored you texted me on such a momentous evening."
"You filled a hole."
"What?"
"I grew up without a mom. I had dad and gramma but until you came around I never really had a mom-like person and I'm really glad you were around."
"Alexis! I'm tearing up over here."
"Sorry."
"No. It was a very lovely thing to hear. I'm touched."
"Uh I think the pterodactyl IS real."
"What?"
"We might be in a museum."
"Uh oh."
"Call my dad."
"I will. Happy birthday, Alexis."
"Thanks, Det Beckett."
Kate closed her phone and pressed it against her chin, chewing her lip as she looked toward the window. Tears were shining in her eyes as she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek against them.
*
Sanctuary/Supernatural, Liquor is Quicker, Ashley Magnus/Jo Harvelle
(906) it's not like i was drunk to the point of NEEDING help...i just wanted someone to offer to hold my hair or something.
It wasn't all about monsters and running for their lives. There were quiet moments, too. In bars where women like Ashley Magnus and Jo Harvelle were mythical creatures in their own right, on long stretches of empty road. They watched each other's backs. Ashley broke a guy's finger one second after his hand landed on Jo's ass. Jo figured she caused lasting damage to one assholes foot when she stomped on it after he tried to pull Ashley off her barstool for "a quick dance." They weren't partners yet, they were just travelers on the same road with the same mission. Traveling together saved on gas and gave them someone to talk to, someone to alternate driving duties with. That's all it was.
Until the night Jo had a bit too much. She pushed herself away from the bar and stumbled a little as she headed into the bathroom. She bumped the stall door open with her shoulder and hit her knees in front of the commode. Fortunately it was miraculously clean that she wasn't horrified by the sight, and a few deep breaths of lemon-scented floor cleaner settled her stomach.
"Hey. You all right?"
Jo looked up to see Ashley standing behind her, squeezed into the stall behind her. "Yeah. I'm fine. You can go back out there if you... want." She exhaled sharply, determined not to throw up.
"Nah, that's all right. You were the only one out there worth talking to." Ashley slid down the side of the stall, bending her legs so they weren't crowding Jo. "Besides, you might need someone to hold your hair."
"You don't have to do that."
"Call it a down payment on a future hair-holding for me."
Jo chuckled. "Okay. That's a deal." She settled against the other wall, stretching her legs out alongside Ashley's. She felt well enough that she didn't have to be perched over the toilet, but she didn't want to risk putting much distance between her and it. She looked at Ashley, who smiled and crossed her arms over her knees.
At that point, Jo realized this was more than just two people going the same direction. It was a partnership. Whatever happened, wherever they ended up, they would get through it to... togeth...
Ashley grabbed a handful of Jo's hair as she dove for the toilet.
*
Sanctuary-- Helen Magnus/James Watson (or Declan Macrae)
(515): nothing like a walk of shame in front of a cnn news crew to start the morning off right
The mood struck, and Helen couldn't stop herself. Not that she wanted to. She tasted smoke and ash on his lips and hurt her hip on a jagged piece of rock when she pushed him into the crater left by the explosion. There was nothing tender or romantic about what they were doing. Her underwear was torn away and she lifted her skirt as he fumbled with his belt. She swatted his hand away, undid the buttons of his fly, and took out his cock. A second later, he was inside of her. He grunted with the rhythm of her thrusts, and she grunted encouragement to him. Her hand was curled on the back of his neck, forcing him to lock eyes with her.
His lips twisted into a smile, and Helen pinched her tongue between her teeth as she ground her hips against his. They gasped, grunted, and Helen rolled her head back on her shoulders as she felt him throb inside of her. She slowed and said, "Don't you dare." He grunted and she could see the strain on his face. She guided his hand under her skirt and gasped as his fingers stroked her clit. She closed her eyes, lifted her chin, and pushed down against him as she came. Quietly she said, "Now...," and he came with her.
She sagged against him, exhausted from the battle they had just survived and two weak-kneed to lift herself off of him. Sometime afterward, while they were still partially dozing, she began moving against him again. His second orgasm was weaker, but hers was enough to drop her. She rested her head against his chest, his breath ruffling her hair, and they held each other in the crater as she waited for her strength to return.
When she finally climbed off of him, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the buildings. She considered her underwear a lost cause and tugged her skirt down so that she could be protected, looked for her shoes for a few seconds before giving up, and crawled out of the giant sinkhole...
...and into the glare of giant lights shining down on a news crew in the middle of making a live report. She blinked as the reporter turned to look at her. Of course. A twelve-foot lizard couldn't just explode in the middle of London without drawing a few reporters. Damn it. Fortunately no one had ventured too close to the crater yet. Sawhorses had been set up to keep them back in case of residual radiation or aftershocks.
She put a hand to her hair, thoroughly raked during one (or both) of her orgasms. She cleared her throat, smoothed a hand over her clothes, and looked down to see that getting caught had given her lover ample opportunity to put himself back together. He smirked up at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, he would pay for this.
She tried to fix her hair and considered it a lost cause, and straightened her shoulders. She looked directly into the camera and winked. "Good morning, London."
She walked confidently through the crowd of reporters and spectators knowing she wasn't the only person taking a walk of shame in London tonight. But she was certainly going to be the least ashamed of her walk.
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: See cut-tag
Pairing: See cut-tag
Word Count: 1,915
Category: PWP, humor
Spoilers: Nothing too major, I assume.
Disclaimer: None of these lovely people belong to me in any way, shape or form.
Rating: See cut-tag
Warnings: Awful, horrible language in some of the texts used as prompts. Seriously, people, clean up your drunken language!
Author's Notes: Written for the Multifandom Texts From Last Night Ficathon!
Summary: You know those nights when you got drunk and sent a text you really shouldn't have? It happens to these people, too.
Sanctuary - Helen/Charlotte
(+44): I dunno. Last time I went there I got sexually propositioned by a Belgian prince.
Charlotte stared at her phone, laughed, and opened a new message to send a reply. "A Belgian prince? Really? What did that entail?" She was in bed in her hotel room, plotting what she and Helen would do when they got together over the weekend. The idea of seeing her again was thrilling, and the fact Helen could literally travel anywhere in the world opened up all kinds of possibilities. And not just possibilities of sexy flight attendant-in-the-cockpit fantasies coming true.
Although that had happened.
Thrice.
They were debating an overseas trip, just the two of them, but there was some debate about the actual country. She was in her pajamas, having already completed the impromptu sexting at the beginning of the call. She was typing with her left hand, since the fingers of her right were still a little sore. She had taken a bath before going to bed, and her sweat from their flirtation actually felt good on her scrubbed skin. She curled her toes under the blankets as she stared at the silent phone, waiting impatiently for a reply. Helen was great at many things, but the woman was an insufferably slow typist.
She was about to send Helen a second message when she received a reply.
"The proposition from a Belgian prince? It was mostly syrup-related. Waffles as foreplay."
Charlotte laughed out loud and covered her mouth. "Oh, Helen..." She bit her bottom lip and typed a reply. "Sounds sticky."
"He had his valet present to clean up spills."
Charlotte gulped. "Sounds kinky. Who else was there?"
"Just the three of us. But it was enough, trust me."
"I've never had a threesome. Thought about it, though."
"Random thought, or suggestion for an activity this weekend?"
Charlotte stared at the text for a long moment, unsure if she should take it seriously or treat it as a joke. She ran her thumb over the screen and opened a reply.
"I certainly wouldn't know of anyone I'd want to share you with."
She could almost hear Helen chuckling. "I have some options if you'd like a list. Man or woman?
Charlotte didn't have to think about that. "If we're going to do it, a woman. Def."
"That narrows things down. Let me think of who I know."
Charlotte gulped. "We don't have to do it this weekend. We should do it right."
"I want you to be comfortable. How about this: we enjoy this weekend by ourselves and, in our 'downtime,' we discuss taking the... shall we say, logistics?"
Charlotte put the phone down and rubbed her face with both hands. Oh, the things she'd done since she met Helen Magnus. Things she never would have considered before. And how many of them had she regretted afterward? She picked up the phone and typed a text. "It should be a stranger."
"Go on."
She shivered. How could Helen convey a seductive coo in a four-letter text message? She cleared her throat and forced herself to compose a coherent message. "It should be someone we choose together. Someone we can seduce together. We approach her as a couple."
"Sounds splendid. There's a bar in Cancun I've never left alone."
Charlotte wet her lips with a pass of her tongue. "So. Cancun this weekend?"
"I'll pack my swimsuit."
"don't bother." She could almost hear Helen's laughter, but she wasn't embarrassed.
"As you wish. I should let you get to sleep. You have a lot of traveling ahead of you, and the pilot will need her refreshments."
Charlotte chuckled. "Can't wait. See you in the morning."
"Why so long? I'll be seeing you in about ten minutes when I close my eyes."
Charlotte's heart skipped a beat. "I love you, Helen."
"And I love you. Goodnight, Charlotte."
Charlotte sent a goodnight message, set her phone to silent, and plugged it in so it could charge while she slept. She turned off the lamp and sank under the blankets, gathering them around her shoulders as she looked out the window of her hotel room. She was shaking, her mind racing with the possibilities of what awaited her in Cancun. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, focusing her thoughts on Helen so they could dream of each other.
Her last thought before drifting off was that she hoped they could find a redhead in Cancun.
*
Castle - Kate & Alexis
(732) I find it simply astounding you spelled drunken wrong but pterodactyl right.
"Congratulations Det Beckett! You're the proud receiver of my 1st ever drunkin text. My friend Button is trying to ride a pterodactyl."
"I find it simply astounding you spelled drunken wrong but pterodactyl right. Does your dad know where you are?"
"It was his idea. 21 birthday and all."
"Happy birthday! That's a big one!"
"TY!"
"Where did you find a pterodactyl?"
"I'm not convinced it really isone but Button wants to try."
"O I C. You're not calling me to bail you out if it turns out to be someone's pet golden retriever, right?"
"Dad said he has the bail money all ready."
"Certainly sounds like Castle. I'm honored you texted me on such a momentous evening."
"You filled a hole."
"What?"
"I grew up without a mom. I had dad and gramma but until you came around I never really had a mom-like person and I'm really glad you were around."
"Alexis! I'm tearing up over here."
"Sorry."
"No. It was a very lovely thing to hear. I'm touched."
"Uh I think the pterodactyl IS real."
"What?"
"We might be in a museum."
"Uh oh."
"Call my dad."
"I will. Happy birthday, Alexis."
"Thanks, Det Beckett."
Kate closed her phone and pressed it against her chin, chewing her lip as she looked toward the window. Tears were shining in her eyes as she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek against them.
*
Sanctuary/Supernatural, Liquor is Quicker, Ashley Magnus/Jo Harvelle
(906) it's not like i was drunk to the point of NEEDING help...i just wanted someone to offer to hold my hair or something.
It wasn't all about monsters and running for their lives. There were quiet moments, too. In bars where women like Ashley Magnus and Jo Harvelle were mythical creatures in their own right, on long stretches of empty road. They watched each other's backs. Ashley broke a guy's finger one second after his hand landed on Jo's ass. Jo figured she caused lasting damage to one assholes foot when she stomped on it after he tried to pull Ashley off her barstool for "a quick dance." They weren't partners yet, they were just travelers on the same road with the same mission. Traveling together saved on gas and gave them someone to talk to, someone to alternate driving duties with. That's all it was.
Until the night Jo had a bit too much. She pushed herself away from the bar and stumbled a little as she headed into the bathroom. She bumped the stall door open with her shoulder and hit her knees in front of the commode. Fortunately it was miraculously clean that she wasn't horrified by the sight, and a few deep breaths of lemon-scented floor cleaner settled her stomach.
"Hey. You all right?"
Jo looked up to see Ashley standing behind her, squeezed into the stall behind her. "Yeah. I'm fine. You can go back out there if you... want." She exhaled sharply, determined not to throw up.
"Nah, that's all right. You were the only one out there worth talking to." Ashley slid down the side of the stall, bending her legs so they weren't crowding Jo. "Besides, you might need someone to hold your hair."
"You don't have to do that."
"Call it a down payment on a future hair-holding for me."
Jo chuckled. "Okay. That's a deal." She settled against the other wall, stretching her legs out alongside Ashley's. She felt well enough that she didn't have to be perched over the toilet, but she didn't want to risk putting much distance between her and it. She looked at Ashley, who smiled and crossed her arms over her knees.
At that point, Jo realized this was more than just two people going the same direction. It was a partnership. Whatever happened, wherever they ended up, they would get through it to... togeth...
Ashley grabbed a handful of Jo's hair as she dove for the toilet.
*
Sanctuary-- Helen Magnus/James Watson (or Declan Macrae)
(515): nothing like a walk of shame in front of a cnn news crew to start the morning off right
The mood struck, and Helen couldn't stop herself. Not that she wanted to. She tasted smoke and ash on his lips and hurt her hip on a jagged piece of rock when she pushed him into the crater left by the explosion. There was nothing tender or romantic about what they were doing. Her underwear was torn away and she lifted her skirt as he fumbled with his belt. She swatted his hand away, undid the buttons of his fly, and took out his cock. A second later, he was inside of her. He grunted with the rhythm of her thrusts, and she grunted encouragement to him. Her hand was curled on the back of his neck, forcing him to lock eyes with her.
His lips twisted into a smile, and Helen pinched her tongue between her teeth as she ground her hips against his. They gasped, grunted, and Helen rolled her head back on her shoulders as she felt him throb inside of her. She slowed and said, "Don't you dare." He grunted and she could see the strain on his face. She guided his hand under her skirt and gasped as his fingers stroked her clit. She closed her eyes, lifted her chin, and pushed down against him as she came. Quietly she said, "Now...," and he came with her.
She sagged against him, exhausted from the battle they had just survived and two weak-kneed to lift herself off of him. Sometime afterward, while they were still partially dozing, she began moving against him again. His second orgasm was weaker, but hers was enough to drop her. She rested her head against his chest, his breath ruffling her hair, and they held each other in the crater as she waited for her strength to return.
When she finally climbed off of him, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the buildings. She considered her underwear a lost cause and tugged her skirt down so that she could be protected, looked for her shoes for a few seconds before giving up, and crawled out of the giant sinkhole...
...and into the glare of giant lights shining down on a news crew in the middle of making a live report. She blinked as the reporter turned to look at her. Of course. A twelve-foot lizard couldn't just explode in the middle of London without drawing a few reporters. Damn it. Fortunately no one had ventured too close to the crater yet. Sawhorses had been set up to keep them back in case of residual radiation or aftershocks.
She put a hand to her hair, thoroughly raked during one (or both) of her orgasms. She cleared her throat, smoothed a hand over her clothes, and looked down to see that getting caught had given her lover ample opportunity to put himself back together. He smirked up at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, he would pay for this.
She tried to fix her hair and considered it a lost cause, and straightened her shoulders. She looked directly into the camera and winked. "Good morning, London."
She walked confidently through the crowd of reporters and spectators knowing she wasn't the only person taking a walk of shame in London tonight. But she was certainly going to be the least ashamed of her walk.