FICLETS: Bandom
Written for 15dozentimes. A little bit of Ian/Dallon/OFC.
Flesh for Fantasy
Dallon is tied to the chair in the corner. He actually agreed to it, so he has no one to blame but himself, but he had thought it would just be Ian jerking himself off, making Dallon watch and want until Dallon couldn't take anymore. Ian has a sadistic streak that slams nicely into Dallon's masochistic one, and on tour it's like months of torture laced with sweet, painful relief.
Sometimes though, Ian is a complete and utter bastard. Times like now, when Dallon is immobile and Ian's got a girl that looks passably like Breezy on the bed, and he's kissing his way up her thighs, leaving red streaks from his stubble on her pale skin. She's gagged so she can't talk, so all Dallon can hear is her muffled noises, which he can pretend are pitched just right to be his wife's voice. It's fucking exquisite, and Dallon's dick is aching so painfully he never wants it to stop.
Ian moves, making sure to give Dallon a sweet view of wet, pink skin and damp thighs, of dark hair soaked from arousal and Ian's tongue. "Should I eat her out, Dallon?"
Dallon tries to push his legs together, desperate for friction, but Ian's too good for that. He'd carefully tied Dallon's ankles to the chair so there's nothing for him until Ian relents. He makes a noise deep in his throat, unsure he can actually manage words.
"You want me to eat her, Dallon? You want my tongue in her pussy?"
Dallon closes his eyes for an instant, opening them quickly. Ian won't wait for him to be ready. Dallon makes all his own choices.
"You think about me fucking both of you, Dallon?"
"Fuck," he rasps, hips fighting against his restraints to jerk upwards. "Fucking...Ian..."
Ian ducks his head, his hair falling all over the girl's thighs and Dallon can tell exactly what he's doing to her, can hear the way her breath catches, the way she cries out against the gag. Dallon knows when Ian's teeth are on her clit, when his tongue is fucking her. He recognizes the reactions too well by this point, and his cock is leaking from want and need.
Dallon wants to see, but Ian's ignoring him now, focused completely on the girl. Dallon sees his head move, his hands move, and he knows when Ian thrusts his fingers inside her, knows when he's got her right at the edge. Sometimes he'll leave the girl there for a long time, ready to fall, teasing her until Dallon begs Ian to fuck her, to give her her release so he can get his. Dallon doesn't know what he'll do if Ian ever actually does any of this with Breezy, but sometimes just the thought of it is enough to get Dallon off.
She comes for the third time. Dallon keeps count, wondering how many times until she's exhausted. She sounds weaker now, and that means it's almost Dallon's turn. He's ready, so ready, the head of his cock slick when Ian raises his face, damp and shiny, and looks at Dallon. Dallon doesn't have any words and Ian doesn't need any. He unties the ropes with a quick flick of his wrist and Dallon's using half-numb hands to get a condom on, to slide inside of the wet hot cunt Ian left him.
He's barely inside the girl before he feels Ian's hands on him, inside him, opening him, and it takes everything Dallon has to keep from coming. He fucks her, moving inside her as he waits for Ian. Waits for Ian to push his cock inside and fuck Dallon so deep that he forgets the girl, forgets everything except the hard thrust of Ian's hips and the hot press of his orgasm in the instant before Dallon's own orgasm rips through him, and he can't even remember that.
Written for Pennyplainknits. A little bit of Ian/Ray
in media res
Ian's sucking Ray's cock like he was made to do it, and the more this happens, the more he begins to suspect that maybe that sucking Ray's cock is his calling in life. He's decent with words, and he's good on a guitar, but when he's got Ray deep in his throat, he's a master, making Ray's hips thrust and his cock jerk and his hands clench in Ian's hair. He makes Ray open his mouth and moan hot, desperate sounds of encouragement. If it's not Ian's calling, it's certainly a career to fall back on.
"Fuck, Ian. Ian, fuck." Ray's never very good at words, but Ian can look up and see his lips, red and swollen from where Ray's been biting them to try to keep from making too much noise, wet from where he's sucked and licked at them , parted like Ian's made it impossible for him to breathe. It's a fucking rush, and Ian loves it, takes Ray deeper just to see what he'll do.
Ray slams his head back into the wall and fists his hand so tight in Ian's hair, Ian can't help but make a sound. It's the opening Ray needs, and he pulls his dick from Ian's mouth and grabs it, jerking it tight and fast for a couple of quick pulls before he's coming all over Ian's face, hot liquid coating his mouth and cheeks, his eyelashes and the sweaty ends of his hair.
Flesh for Fantasy
Dallon is tied to the chair in the corner. He actually agreed to it, so he has no one to blame but himself, but he had thought it would just be Ian jerking himself off, making Dallon watch and want until Dallon couldn't take anymore. Ian has a sadistic streak that slams nicely into Dallon's masochistic one, and on tour it's like months of torture laced with sweet, painful relief.
Sometimes though, Ian is a complete and utter bastard. Times like now, when Dallon is immobile and Ian's got a girl that looks passably like Breezy on the bed, and he's kissing his way up her thighs, leaving red streaks from his stubble on her pale skin. She's gagged so she can't talk, so all Dallon can hear is her muffled noises, which he can pretend are pitched just right to be his wife's voice. It's fucking exquisite, and Dallon's dick is aching so painfully he never wants it to stop.
Ian moves, making sure to give Dallon a sweet view of wet, pink skin and damp thighs, of dark hair soaked from arousal and Ian's tongue. "Should I eat her out, Dallon?"
Dallon tries to push his legs together, desperate for friction, but Ian's too good for that. He'd carefully tied Dallon's ankles to the chair so there's nothing for him until Ian relents. He makes a noise deep in his throat, unsure he can actually manage words.
"You want me to eat her, Dallon? You want my tongue in her pussy?"
Dallon closes his eyes for an instant, opening them quickly. Ian won't wait for him to be ready. Dallon makes all his own choices.
"You think about me fucking both of you, Dallon?"
"Fuck," he rasps, hips fighting against his restraints to jerk upwards. "Fucking...Ian..."
Ian ducks his head, his hair falling all over the girl's thighs and Dallon can tell exactly what he's doing to her, can hear the way her breath catches, the way she cries out against the gag. Dallon knows when Ian's teeth are on her clit, when his tongue is fucking her. He recognizes the reactions too well by this point, and his cock is leaking from want and need.
Dallon wants to see, but Ian's ignoring him now, focused completely on the girl. Dallon sees his head move, his hands move, and he knows when Ian thrusts his fingers inside her, knows when he's got her right at the edge. Sometimes he'll leave the girl there for a long time, ready to fall, teasing her until Dallon begs Ian to fuck her, to give her her release so he can get his. Dallon doesn't know what he'll do if Ian ever actually does any of this with Breezy, but sometimes just the thought of it is enough to get Dallon off.
She comes for the third time. Dallon keeps count, wondering how many times until she's exhausted. She sounds weaker now, and that means it's almost Dallon's turn. He's ready, so ready, the head of his cock slick when Ian raises his face, damp and shiny, and looks at Dallon. Dallon doesn't have any words and Ian doesn't need any. He unties the ropes with a quick flick of his wrist and Dallon's using half-numb hands to get a condom on, to slide inside of the wet hot cunt Ian left him.
He's barely inside the girl before he feels Ian's hands on him, inside him, opening him, and it takes everything Dallon has to keep from coming. He fucks her, moving inside her as he waits for Ian. Waits for Ian to push his cock inside and fuck Dallon so deep that he forgets the girl, forgets everything except the hard thrust of Ian's hips and the hot press of his orgasm in the instant before Dallon's own orgasm rips through him, and he can't even remember that.
Written for Pennyplainknits. A little bit of Ian/Ray
in media res
Ian's sucking Ray's cock like he was made to do it, and the more this happens, the more he begins to suspect that maybe that sucking Ray's cock is his calling in life. He's decent with words, and he's good on a guitar, but when he's got Ray deep in his throat, he's a master, making Ray's hips thrust and his cock jerk and his hands clench in Ian's hair. He makes Ray open his mouth and moan hot, desperate sounds of encouragement. If it's not Ian's calling, it's certainly a career to fall back on.
"Fuck, Ian. Ian, fuck." Ray's never very good at words, but Ian can look up and see his lips, red and swollen from where Ray's been biting them to try to keep from making too much noise, wet from where he's sucked and licked at them , parted like Ian's made it impossible for him to breathe. It's a fucking rush, and Ian loves it, takes Ray deeper just to see what he'll do.
Ray slams his head back into the wall and fists his hand so tight in Ian's hair, Ian can't help but make a sound. It's the opening Ray needs, and he pulls his dick from Ian's mouth and grabs it, jerking it tight and fast for a couple of quick pulls before he's coming all over Ian's face, hot liquid coating his mouth and cheeks, his eyelashes and the sweaty ends of his hair.