(no subject)
Untitled fic for
looking4tarzan
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: McShep, Laura Cadman (This part), implied McKay/Sheppard/Cadman
Warnings: Bondage, breath play
Spoilers: None that I could see.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be *sobs uncontrollably*
A/N:
looking4tarzan told me about a fic involving John tied to a chair, then my porn muse hit with a vengeance stupidly late last night, and I needed to write something, so in between texts I wrote this, there may be more parts involving Laura I don’t know.
Feedback: Tell me what I’m doing wrong, or right. Please! (Flames used to dispatch marauding hoards at night)
You pull against the ties holding you to the chair, knowing they’ll hold, but feeling stupid for not putting up a token resistance. Rodney is bent over his desk, digging around in one of the drawers for something, and if you weren’t tied down you’d have been over pressed against him a long time ago, if you weren’t tied down, but you are. Thick braided cords wrapped around each wrist, each ankle. Tied tightly enough to hold you, not tightly enough to cut off circulation, Rodney knows what he’s doing. The chair is wide, wide enough for what he’s planning at least.
You grit your teeth trying to avoid saying anything that would resemble begging or pleading, you get the feeling that would be exactly what he wants, and whilst you’d move heaven and earth for him, if he asked, you don’t really need him any more smug than he is normally. Even if some of it is just to cover his many, and there are many, insecurities. You know the others in the expedition wouldn’t believe some of the things you know about the great Dr. Rodney McKay. Not the team, they’ve seen him at his worst and his best, they’d believe you, but the rest of the scientist, the military contingent, even Elizabeth. You realise you are currently doing the mental equivalent of rambling, and try to quiet your thoughts, your eyes still glued to the gorgeous rear in front of you.
It’s perfect, and you love every single inch of it. Have loved and kissed, licked, adored the whole thing. Hell, you could probably write poems about it. Ode to Rodney’s bottom, it would captivate generations!
Unfortunately, Rodney seems to have sensed you staring and is turning around, a piece of fabric grasped in his large hands, it’s long and black. One of Laura’s scarves that she left before this rotation back to earth. You want her to be here, but you know you’d never have asked and Rodney never would have agreed had she been on Atlantis. She doesn’t know anything about this, despite sharing your bed, neither of you ever felt comfortable sharing this one little thing about you. Because it’s not about Rodney, is it, he has his own little foibles, his own ways to feel…just feel. But this one is yours, only yours, and you secretly think its wrong and nasty, but it’s what you want, what you need sometimes. To forget to be in control, to forget about anything but sensation.
Whilst you mind ramble again, Rodney has crossed the room to you, scarf clenched tightly, a look in his eyes, one he gets every time you do this. A small amount of fear, fear that he might go too far, mixed with adoration, anticipation and arousal. His eyes wide, breath coming quicker than usual, despite having been moving at a fairly languid pace for the last while since he bound you.
He loops the scarf over your neck, letting the ends fall to rest on your bare chest, just brushing your already erect nipples, the air is cool in the room, and you are naked after all. You can hear his breathing even more up close, and you stare at his lips, slightly pink and swollen from nervous nibbling, and you wish you weren’t bound, so you could bite that bottom lip even more, make Rodney moan into your mouth. Maybe break the skin, a small hurt that you could melt away, with kisses and soft brushes with your tongue, you moan at the thought. Your eyes slipping closed.
You know it won’t do, but you keep creating images in your head, irregardles of the disapproving looks Rodney is no doubt giving you. Your eyes snap open when you feel thighs brush yours, as Rodney settles his legs either side, kneeling on the chair. You remember your earlier thought about it being a wide chair, and a small smile creeps onto your lips, he really does plan ahead for almost every contingency. He presses his lips to yours, sweet and tender, in contrast to his hand however which is trailing down your chest, pinching almost cruelly at your nipples, making them red with his ministrations, pulling his lips from yours and lowering his head to slowly nibble and bite on them, alternating with no apparent pattern, everything designed to make you beg, make you react just how Rodney wants you to, and just how you both know you will.
The other hand is stroking down you stomach towards your dripping cock, he skims a fingernail into the tip, smiling around your flesh as you buck as much as possible, and hiss between your teeth. The nail trails down the vein on the underside and the fingers of his hand begin to stroke oh so softly over the skin of your balls, occasionally returning to flick the tip with a nail, or run the pad of his thumb around the head, smearing your precome. Then as quickly as it started, he stops, pulls away completely, picks up a tube from next to you and squeezes the clear gel onto his fingers, you can see what he’s doing, but you can’t quite reach a conclusion, despite knowing what he’s going to do, you still gasp when he smothers cold lubricant over your still rock hard cock, before reaching back to rub a small amount around his entrance, and using a slippery hand he grips your cock, moving himself so he’s positioned right above you and pushes himself down. You both gasp as you enter him, your mind going white, with a constant litany of so tight, so hot, so sweet... running through your head, and a slight pained edge to his gasp.
When he’s seated firmly in your lap, he opens his eyes, locks them with yours, waits for you to come back to yourself, come back to him. That looks back, the fear and anticipation one, and you can’t take it, you lunge forward grasping his bottom lip between your teeth, forcing your tongue into his mouth, comtrolling the kiss despite being the one tied up, and he lets you, just moans into your mouth as the movement pushes your cockhead against his prostate and tangles his tongue with yours. Lets you bite his lips and soothe the pain with small licks, lets you drink in every moan he makes as you shift. The litany still there but slightly dulled, and you can see that his eyes have slipped closed again. His body seemingly almost on autopilot, just focused on you, and his hands start to lift towards the ends of the scarf.
He breaks the kiss as soon as he has the silk in his hands, raising himself up and you can feel the tremble in his thighs, as he holds himself above you, it’s a good thing you are bound, otherwise you would have just pushed him to the floor and fucked him into oblivion.
He crosses the scarf ends and you know what’s going to happen, you want it to happen, hell you asked for it, but that familiar fear traipses through your gut, every time, you don’t let it show though, training showing you how to force it down, letting your eyes slip closed as well.
You feel the sudden pressure around your throat at the same time as Rodney lets himself thrust down, holding the scarf tight, cutting off air and blood, and you can feel the panic start to move in. Feel muscles struggle on autopilot to throw him off, but you can’t move, can’t stop it, you just have to roll with it, trust him.
A few seconds pass, and he pulls up again, thrusting faster, as the scarf gets tighter. You’re both so far gone that though both hear the sound, that your conscious minds would recognise as the door opening and closing, it doesn’t register with either of you.
His thrusts are growing shorter, harder, as you both near completion, white streaks of light passing you eyes followed by black spots creeping in, and your lungs are screaming for oxygen, mouth open trying to pull in needed air, but not able to, you are harder than you were when this started, if that’s even possible, and you can feel yourself getting closer, the sensation muted beneath the constant thrum of need running through your internal monologue, air, pain, pleasure unable to distinguish what you need more or less than the others.
You are close, so close that you can feel the white tendrils of your orgasm begin to make their way along your nerves, and all you need is that blissful white light.
The voice that rings through the room, makes Rodney start, release the scarf, and your body reacts instantly, pulling in great lungfuls of air, leaving you needing release. So close, screams your brain, and you let your head fall to your chest, hips moving minutely beneath Rodney, your cock trying to get the friction it wants back.
Rodney, on the other hand, is still astride you, his eyes glued to the door, fear, shock and, for some reason you have yet to figure out, wonderment, warring for supremacy in his eyes.
You finally regain enough strength to turn your head and see Laura slumped against the closed door, hand in her trousers, bags haphazardly lying on the floor, a look of sheer pleasure and shock on her face, shaking slightly.
That sight does it, and you manage to get enough leverage for one good thrust, letting the long held orgasm finally overwhelm you, pouring you come into Rodney, gasping when Rodney comes, without seeming to realise it, the spasms around your sensitive cock almost painful in their intensity.
You finally regain the ability to actually talk, move or do anything aside from breath, and try to move towards Laura, forgetting you are still tied down, and still underneath Rodney.
Rodney seems to have been transformed to stone, he barely even seems to be breathing, so you give up, and hope he’ll come back to himself soon, your legs are going to go numb if he doesn’t. You turn your head back to the figure still slumped agaisnt the door.
“Hi.” You manage to croak out. Wondering how the hell you are going to explain this.
Laura cracks one eyes open, and smiles. “Hi guys, did you miss me?” She pants out. Sliding down the door to the floor. “I gated back from earth early.” Before adding, purposefully limply, you guess. “Suprise.”