(no subject)
Title: Somewhere Along the Line
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters or Pairing: John Hart/Gwen Cooper
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2046
Summary: Left to guard John, Gwen doesn't really stand a chance.
Warnings: PWP. Graphic, rough het!sex, foul language.
Spoilers: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Other notes: For karaokegal's Come as You're Not party. Set in the no-man's land that is post Season 2 in general
Adoration: to aeron_lanart for biting the bullet earlier in the week (before this thing found an intro and and ending) and making sure I didn't give anyone three hands/write something anatomically impossible.
Why it's a costume: Not written John before. There's also multi-person sex of the non-heterosexual variety, and a couple of other things...
ETA: Cross posted to torchwood_fic *facepalms* I had *so* totally forgotten I had been that brave!
Somewhere Along the Line
It wasn't as if Jack hadn't warned her John would try anything to get away. It wasn't even as if she didn't have first hand experience of the way the man operated. But oh no, she'd been so very sure she could handle it - him - just for one evening. Keep an eye on him. Prevent him from leaving the Hub. It wasn't even as if John was their prisoner, not really, not this time, it was just that they really couldn't afford for him to be loose in the city right now.
Ten long minutes that's all it had been. Ten minutes, before he'd stopped simply prowling round the Hub, touching things - things that weren't his, that only Tosh or Owen had ever known what to do with - and started talking to her. Speculating. Speculation as lewd and filthy as phone sex - the really good kind that went straight to your knickers - the kind that didn't really exist. Speculation that, somewhere along the line, made her see not just red but a deep, bloody crimson.
John hit the ground with a jarring thud. “You’re gorgeous when you’re angry, anyone ever told you that?”
“Not and get off on it as much as you seem to,” Gwen panted, resisting the overwhelming urge to slap him senseless as she crawled her way up, over his body to sit on his ribcage.
“What? Not even Jack?”
“Especially not Jack.”
John raised an eyebrow and leered up at her. “And you expect me to believe that?”
She wanted to hit him. Wanted to grab hold of his hair and bang his head onto the floor until she could hear his teeth rattle.
“Never heard of variety being the spice of life John?” she smiled, as saccharin sweet as she could manage. “Never been different with one lover than another?” She trailed a finger down his cheek. “No… I don’t suppose you have, have you cariad?” she breathed into his ear. “But there again, you don’t really do ‘lovers’ do you? You just take what you want and then go.”
Between her thighs his chest lifted and fell. Lifted and fell. Lifted and-
He was on top of her, more than that, over her - pinning her arms above her head with one hand - and the concrete was rough beneath her back and her shoulders and her arms. Rough, and hard, and dirty. And her head ‘hurt’, where her hair was tangled between his fingers. And he was smiling.
It was the smile that did it more than the shock or the sharp stab of pain. She jerked her knee up, gasping when he caught hold of it then, oh so very casually, pressed it to the floor with one of his own. It made her want to spit how easy it was for him - how easily she had fallen into playing his game when she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t.
“Such bitterness in one so young. So much jealousy. Where do you find to put it all?”
He was crooning. Swallowing her whole with his eyes and ‘crooning’ as his hand followed the line of his gaze - cupping her breast through the thin cotton of her blouse and idly thumbing the already half hard nipple that he found there.
“What's worst, I wonder? That I had Jack before you-” She shut her eyes. She didn't have to look at him. Didn't have to give him that. “-or that Eye Candy had Jack before you?” His squeezed with his fingers and she gasped, arching her back - her twisted knee and hip howling in protest. “Or maybe…” His hand slid from her breast, grazing her hip as he shifted his weight from her knee back to the floor. “That I had Ianto before you?” he said, against her cheek.
“Like I fancy him,” she bit back breathlessly, and felt him smile into her neck, before his teeth bit down and she jerked - helpless as a fish on the hook - her head rolling back on the floor, offering him more of her throat.
“Not what I meant and you know it. Admit it, you like me, don’t you Cupcake?”
“Not since-” Jesus, she's been crawling out of her skin for this: his hands hot and heavy on her, him holding her down - taking her. Making her. “Not since you kissed me and left me for dead.”
“Liar... Just look at you.” His fingers abandoned her wrists and twisted themselves into her hair. “You want me,” he growled.
“It’s just sex!” she blurted out, eyes flying open.
“So Jack's taught you that much has he? I'm impressed.”
“No!”
“Oh that’s right, it’s never just sex with him. Not any more… Not know he’s ‘grown’ as a man.” He let go her hair suddenly and his hand briefly cupping her cheek, like the intensity of his gaze, was at once too much, and not enough.
“I can’t-”
“Can’t what, sweetheart? Imagine he's ever done it for anything but love? Don’t make me laugh! He was just as bad and as good as the rest of us, once. He'd whored his way across half a galaxy before he was thirty, your Jack had, my love. Because sex is like currency out there you know. They want it, we’ve got it. And boy did the Agency make certain of that…” Goosebumps broke out on her skin as John thumbed open her top, one careful button after another. “Pumped us chock full of pheromones and happy juice then patted us all on our pretty little heads and sent us on our merry way to screw with anything we fancied.” He paused, fingering the outline of her bra almost reverently. “Or that fancied us. You know, it was almost a relief when we reached a planet where there were humans, again. Boring as hell, but christ, some of the things we’d done by then. Anything that could be done with cocks and teeth and mouths - and fists, mustn’t forget fists - we'd done it. Or had it done...” Eyes dark, he traced the line of her cheek with his closed hand. “It was all so much nothing. We spent so much time looking for the next rush. The next high. Guns, knives, scalpels - hell - what we wouldn’t do for that next fix. Lock us away in a cell in the dark and we’d strip, and see where it would get us when they opened up again.”
‘Where it would get them.’ She was so wet right now. She couldn’t help herself. She squirmed - rubbing herself against his thigh.
“Like the thought of that, don’t you Cupcake? Him and me? You could get off on that. Couldn’t you?”
“No…”
“Liar, again! How about I add in that husband of yours, hmm? He’s a strapping lad, he’d make a smashing ‘jailer’.”
“Don’t!”
“Too late, you’ve got it inside your head now. Haven’t you? Jack, me, Rhys...”
“No.” She squeezed her eyes closed again, bringing her hands up to shove against him.
“Oh yes you have.” He shunted with his knee and she grunted - the sound escaping from her lips before she could stop it.
“Jack, me, Rhys… Eye Candy.”
“Please.”
“And Owen. We mustn’t forget about him and that sharp little tongue of his now, must we? He was such a pretty little thing and game for anything. But there again you know that, don’t you? He was the only one of them you managed to have before me after all.”
“Bastard.” Her heels sought for purchase on the floor.
“And now you’re having trouble imagining aren’t you?” A vicious flick of his fingers and his jeans were undone.
“Yes. No. I don’t want to…”
“I mean two.” Her zipper slid down - like he hadn’t heard. “Two’s easy, one of us on our back and the other ploughing into him - missionary style. It’s not much of a leap. And three? Christ, you’ve probably fantasised three - Jack slipping into your room at night and giving it to Rhys while he’s giving it to you…”
“So that’s no leap either, but past that. That’s where it gets complicated.” His fingers slid inside her panties. “Such an antiquated notion, underwear, when you’re as soaking wet as you are.” He buried his face in her belly as he peeled her trousers down, hobbling her ankles. “But pretty, oh yes,” He dived back between her legs, breath hot and damp against her mound, as he spread her knees wide, bracing her thighs apart with his elbows as his thumbs slid under each side of the scanty fabric. “Very pretty. Like watching your boyfriend taking two cocks inside him. Because you can kind of see that one too, can’t you? Wondered what it would feel like to have two men fuck you at once. Because Jack's had you up your dainty little arse and you've loved it...”
She fisted her hands in his hair, crushing his face against her as his tongue licked and swirled inside her, her knees still spread helplessly wide - the heels of her shoes bumping against the back of his neck as he folded her in two.
“Naughty, naughty,” he grinned, surfacing - his lips and chin damp and glistening in the low light. “No cheating, now…” Then he was over her again and her legs were free and her feet were bare, and he was kissing her mouth as he ripped her panties from her - down her legs till they caught on her knees and she toed them off, pushing her hands inside his jeans as soon as he’d let her and finding his hard, leaking, cock with both hands.
“Course it's different for guys.” He groaned, his head rolling forward as he closed a fist around her fingers, stilling them. “Fuller, for a start-”
“Tell me.” It wasn't her voice - she wasn't thinking that.
“Tell you?” He snorted softly, snagging her wrists and dragging her upright - crushing her against his chest - his shirt front. “Oh, I'm going to do better than that Cupcake.” There were going to be marks on her neck tomorrow - bruises she'd have to hide - to match the grazes on her back. “I'm going to make you feel like I'm coming out of your ears.”
Sobbing, she buried her forehead into the cushions on the couch and two fingers in her mouth, sucking at them, helplessly.
“...Jack's cock in his mouth - filling it up...” Behind her John paused and her body clamped itself around his prick and his hands inside her. “Easy there, Cupcake. Gotta go slow now, can't have him biting Jack's dick off, can we?”
She groaned, drool pooling beneath her tongue as she forced herself to stop swallowing, her eyes shut tight. He needed to start talking again - give her a rhythm she could work with.
There was a shift and slide inside her and- oh god... nothing inside her for a moment, except the fingers and cock in her cunt. And it wasn't enough - she needed-
A finger. Dripping with lube. Two. Three. John, pressing them far too slowly inside her - trapping his cock between his fingertips as if she were one great dripping whole. She sniffed and swallowed, opening her mouth on a gasp to shove another finger inside, as he started talking again.
“Rhys and me, crammed into him from behind, and he's sweating. Beads of it running down his face, stinging his eyes but he's not going to shut them - he wants to see what this looks like. Wants to watch Jack's face as he comes... Wants to know he's made Jack come first before he gives it up to your husband. Before he gives it up to Owen's hand round his cock and Owen's teeth in his shoulder. And me...”
There wasn't one bit of her that wasn't soaking wet and stretched too wide and filled to bursting. Not one part of her that wasn't shaking, trembling - clenching - around him as the blinding darkness spilled through her, splitting her apart.
Wrung out and drained and sore - even her hair hurt - and shivering from more than just cold, there was nothing she could do except glare, balefully, after him, as he fled the building. Next time - and she just knew there was going to be one - she'd know better. Next time, she was going to muzzle him.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters or Pairing: John Hart/Gwen Cooper
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2046
Summary: Left to guard John, Gwen doesn't really stand a chance.
Warnings: PWP. Graphic, rough het!sex, foul language.
Spoilers: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Other notes: For karaokegal's Come as You're Not party. Set in the no-man's land that is post Season 2 in general
Adoration: to aeron_lanart for biting the bullet earlier in the week (before this thing found an intro and and ending) and making sure I didn't give anyone three hands/write something anatomically impossible.
Why it's a costume: Not written John before. There's also multi-person sex of the non-heterosexual variety, and a couple of other things...
ETA: Cross posted to torchwood_fic *facepalms* I had *so* totally forgotten I had been that brave!
Somewhere Along the Line
It wasn't as if Jack hadn't warned her John would try anything to get away. It wasn't even as if she didn't have first hand experience of the way the man operated. But oh no, she'd been so very sure she could handle it - him - just for one evening. Keep an eye on him. Prevent him from leaving the Hub. It wasn't even as if John was their prisoner, not really, not this time, it was just that they really couldn't afford for him to be loose in the city right now.
Ten long minutes that's all it had been. Ten minutes, before he'd stopped simply prowling round the Hub, touching things - things that weren't his, that only Tosh or Owen had ever known what to do with - and started talking to her. Speculating. Speculation as lewd and filthy as phone sex - the really good kind that went straight to your knickers - the kind that didn't really exist. Speculation that, somewhere along the line, made her see not just red but a deep, bloody crimson.
John hit the ground with a jarring thud. “You’re gorgeous when you’re angry, anyone ever told you that?”
“Not and get off on it as much as you seem to,” Gwen panted, resisting the overwhelming urge to slap him senseless as she crawled her way up, over his body to sit on his ribcage.
“What? Not even Jack?”
“Especially not Jack.”
John raised an eyebrow and leered up at her. “And you expect me to believe that?”
She wanted to hit him. Wanted to grab hold of his hair and bang his head onto the floor until she could hear his teeth rattle.
“Never heard of variety being the spice of life John?” she smiled, as saccharin sweet as she could manage. “Never been different with one lover than another?” She trailed a finger down his cheek. “No… I don’t suppose you have, have you cariad?” she breathed into his ear. “But there again, you don’t really do ‘lovers’ do you? You just take what you want and then go.”
Between her thighs his chest lifted and fell. Lifted and fell. Lifted and-
He was on top of her, more than that, over her - pinning her arms above her head with one hand - and the concrete was rough beneath her back and her shoulders and her arms. Rough, and hard, and dirty. And her head ‘hurt’, where her hair was tangled between his fingers. And he was smiling.
It was the smile that did it more than the shock or the sharp stab of pain. She jerked her knee up, gasping when he caught hold of it then, oh so very casually, pressed it to the floor with one of his own. It made her want to spit how easy it was for him - how easily she had fallen into playing his game when she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t.
“Such bitterness in one so young. So much jealousy. Where do you find to put it all?”
He was crooning. Swallowing her whole with his eyes and ‘crooning’ as his hand followed the line of his gaze - cupping her breast through the thin cotton of her blouse and idly thumbing the already half hard nipple that he found there.
“What's worst, I wonder? That I had Jack before you-” She shut her eyes. She didn't have to look at him. Didn't have to give him that. “-or that Eye Candy had Jack before you?” His squeezed with his fingers and she gasped, arching her back - her twisted knee and hip howling in protest. “Or maybe…” His hand slid from her breast, grazing her hip as he shifted his weight from her knee back to the floor. “That I had Ianto before you?” he said, against her cheek.
“Like I fancy him,” she bit back breathlessly, and felt him smile into her neck, before his teeth bit down and she jerked - helpless as a fish on the hook - her head rolling back on the floor, offering him more of her throat.
“Not what I meant and you know it. Admit it, you like me, don’t you Cupcake?”
“Not since-” Jesus, she's been crawling out of her skin for this: his hands hot and heavy on her, him holding her down - taking her. Making her. “Not since you kissed me and left me for dead.”
“Liar... Just look at you.” His fingers abandoned her wrists and twisted themselves into her hair. “You want me,” he growled.
“It’s just sex!” she blurted out, eyes flying open.
“So Jack's taught you that much has he? I'm impressed.”
“No!”
“Oh that’s right, it’s never just sex with him. Not any more… Not know he’s ‘grown’ as a man.” He let go her hair suddenly and his hand briefly cupping her cheek, like the intensity of his gaze, was at once too much, and not enough.
“I can’t-”
“Can’t what, sweetheart? Imagine he's ever done it for anything but love? Don’t make me laugh! He was just as bad and as good as the rest of us, once. He'd whored his way across half a galaxy before he was thirty, your Jack had, my love. Because sex is like currency out there you know. They want it, we’ve got it. And boy did the Agency make certain of that…” Goosebumps broke out on her skin as John thumbed open her top, one careful button after another. “Pumped us chock full of pheromones and happy juice then patted us all on our pretty little heads and sent us on our merry way to screw with anything we fancied.” He paused, fingering the outline of her bra almost reverently. “Or that fancied us. You know, it was almost a relief when we reached a planet where there were humans, again. Boring as hell, but christ, some of the things we’d done by then. Anything that could be done with cocks and teeth and mouths - and fists, mustn’t forget fists - we'd done it. Or had it done...” Eyes dark, he traced the line of her cheek with his closed hand. “It was all so much nothing. We spent so much time looking for the next rush. The next high. Guns, knives, scalpels - hell - what we wouldn’t do for that next fix. Lock us away in a cell in the dark and we’d strip, and see where it would get us when they opened up again.”
‘Where it would get them.’ She was so wet right now. She couldn’t help herself. She squirmed - rubbing herself against his thigh.
“Like the thought of that, don’t you Cupcake? Him and me? You could get off on that. Couldn’t you?”
“No…”
“Liar, again! How about I add in that husband of yours, hmm? He’s a strapping lad, he’d make a smashing ‘jailer’.”
“Don’t!”
“Too late, you’ve got it inside your head now. Haven’t you? Jack, me, Rhys...”
“No.” She squeezed her eyes closed again, bringing her hands up to shove against him.
“Oh yes you have.” He shunted with his knee and she grunted - the sound escaping from her lips before she could stop it.
“Jack, me, Rhys… Eye Candy.”
“Please.”
“And Owen. We mustn’t forget about him and that sharp little tongue of his now, must we? He was such a pretty little thing and game for anything. But there again you know that, don’t you? He was the only one of them you managed to have before me after all.”
“Bastard.” Her heels sought for purchase on the floor.
“And now you’re having trouble imagining aren’t you?” A vicious flick of his fingers and his jeans were undone.
“Yes. No. I don’t want to…”
“I mean two.” Her zipper slid down - like he hadn’t heard. “Two’s easy, one of us on our back and the other ploughing into him - missionary style. It’s not much of a leap. And three? Christ, you’ve probably fantasised three - Jack slipping into your room at night and giving it to Rhys while he’s giving it to you…”
“So that’s no leap either, but past that. That’s where it gets complicated.” His fingers slid inside her panties. “Such an antiquated notion, underwear, when you’re as soaking wet as you are.” He buried his face in her belly as he peeled her trousers down, hobbling her ankles. “But pretty, oh yes,” He dived back between her legs, breath hot and damp against her mound, as he spread her knees wide, bracing her thighs apart with his elbows as his thumbs slid under each side of the scanty fabric. “Very pretty. Like watching your boyfriend taking two cocks inside him. Because you can kind of see that one too, can’t you? Wondered what it would feel like to have two men fuck you at once. Because Jack's had you up your dainty little arse and you've loved it...”
She fisted her hands in his hair, crushing his face against her as his tongue licked and swirled inside her, her knees still spread helplessly wide - the heels of her shoes bumping against the back of his neck as he folded her in two.
“Naughty, naughty,” he grinned, surfacing - his lips and chin damp and glistening in the low light. “No cheating, now…” Then he was over her again and her legs were free and her feet were bare, and he was kissing her mouth as he ripped her panties from her - down her legs till they caught on her knees and she toed them off, pushing her hands inside his jeans as soon as he’d let her and finding his hard, leaking, cock with both hands.
“Course it's different for guys.” He groaned, his head rolling forward as he closed a fist around her fingers, stilling them. “Fuller, for a start-”
“Tell me.” It wasn't her voice - she wasn't thinking that.
“Tell you?” He snorted softly, snagging her wrists and dragging her upright - crushing her against his chest - his shirt front. “Oh, I'm going to do better than that Cupcake.” There were going to be marks on her neck tomorrow - bruises she'd have to hide - to match the grazes on her back. “I'm going to make you feel like I'm coming out of your ears.”
Sobbing, she buried her forehead into the cushions on the couch and two fingers in her mouth, sucking at them, helplessly.
“...Jack's cock in his mouth - filling it up...” Behind her John paused and her body clamped itself around his prick and his hands inside her. “Easy there, Cupcake. Gotta go slow now, can't have him biting Jack's dick off, can we?”
She groaned, drool pooling beneath her tongue as she forced herself to stop swallowing, her eyes shut tight. He needed to start talking again - give her a rhythm she could work with.
There was a shift and slide inside her and- oh god... nothing inside her for a moment, except the fingers and cock in her cunt. And it wasn't enough - she needed-
A finger. Dripping with lube. Two. Three. John, pressing them far too slowly inside her - trapping his cock between his fingertips as if she were one great dripping whole. She sniffed and swallowed, opening her mouth on a gasp to shove another finger inside, as he started talking again.
“Rhys and me, crammed into him from behind, and he's sweating. Beads of it running down his face, stinging his eyes but he's not going to shut them - he wants to see what this looks like. Wants to watch Jack's face as he comes... Wants to know he's made Jack come first before he gives it up to your husband. Before he gives it up to Owen's hand round his cock and Owen's teeth in his shoulder. And me...”
There wasn't one bit of her that wasn't soaking wet and stretched too wide and filled to bursting. Not one part of her that wasn't shaking, trembling - clenching - around him as the blinding darkness spilled through her, splitting her apart.
Wrung out and drained and sore - even her hair hurt - and shivering from more than just cold, there was nothing she could do except glare, balefully, after him, as he fled the building. Next time - and she just knew there was going to be one - she'd know better. Next time, she was going to muzzle him.