Fic: They all come to the Cookie Monster in the end
Title: They all come to the Cookie Monster in the end
Characters: Cook/Emily/Naomi
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1,428
Summary: Um. Sort of a threesome.
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: So this is a little different from anything I've done before, and uh, well yeah. Written for flister 's request on skinswishlist . Sorry again for the lateness!
He's not quite sure how he got here, but it's the best fucking place he's ever been. Fuck Disney land and all that shit - ok he’s never actually been, but why would he want to now - this is it, the jackpot. Apparently there's seven wonders of the world. Balls to that. He's looking at the eighth right now. The eighth wonder of the world is girls kissing. And right now, he's lying back on a bed, propped up on his elbows watching two girls, two extremely fit girls, standing at the end of the bed kissing. It's not just some peck for show though, these two are in to it, tongues an' all.
It was Emily who convinced Naomi, probably, not the other way round. That’s how this happened, and he’ll remember to thank her for it later. He’ll remember to thank her for it a lot.
He watches as Naomi's hand settles on Emily's waist, rubbing light circles on it, and the material has bunched up a little, exposing her skin. Cook feels the muscles in his stomach spasm again, tightening further, and he can't believe how hard he is already, and no one's even looked at him, let alone touched anything that would make him feel quite so -
Emily groans. It's not very loud, but it's just enough for him to hear and he tips his head back onto the pillow and shuts his eyes for just a second. It only takes him that second to decide. He wants to be a part of this. Pulling himself up to his knees, he edges closer to them.
Naomi notices and stops immediately. "No way Cook. We said you could watch. No touching."
"What? C'mon Naoms, cut a boy a break, yeah? I'm rock hard here, and fucking aching," he says.
Naomi looks at him, still clad in his boxers and nothing else, the material stretched as far as it will go and doesn't say anything. Mesmerised, Cook thinks, which isn't a surprise, she's not the first girl to go speechless at the sight of his dick. He takes the chance to reach out his hand towards Emily, who's slightly closer to him, and brushes his fingertips along her arm.
Surprisingly she doesn't flinch, rather she drops her eyes to watch him do it, and very slowly, a smirk appears. He glances back to Naomi, who's still just looking at his fingers, trailing over Emily's forearm, transfixed. Cook takes her inaction as a cue to push his luck a little more. Creeping forwards, he dips his head to Emily's shoulder, pressing his lips to the skin at the edge of her strappy top. There's nothing again. He moves closer to Emily's neck, decides to be a bit more daring and kisses the spot a little more forcefully. Nothing. He grins at Naomi then, and goes for it, really just fucking does it, finds her pulse point with his lips and sucks gently, lets his tongue flick out to taste her skin and stares right at Naomi the whole time. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't look away.
He thinks she might be on the verge of hitting him when Emily reaches out and takes her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Everything once," she says softly and with the hint of a smile, and it's enough for Naomi to break eye contact with Cook and look at her instead.
They might be psychic maybe, their minds working on some different level to his, cause they’re just looking and he doesn’t get it, whatever is going on. He keeps focused on his task instead then, still working on Emily’s neck, and letting a hand creep around her back and onto her stomach. Cook can’t help it really, that his hand doesn’t want to stay put, that it moves of its own accord higher up until he can feel the underside of her tit. He chances a glance at Emily’s face at that point, her eyes are half lidded, and he catches her tongue slipping out to wet her lips just before Naomi takes a step forward, leans down and kisses her, desperately, judging by the noise she makes.
He grins against Emily’s neck, grazes his teeth lightly across her skin. He’s cupping her tit now, and he’s realised that she’s not wearing a bra, because he can feel her nipple, hard, under her top and a gentle tweak of it results in the perfect moan, and he watches as Naomi’s eyes open in surprise as she feels it and catches on to what has just happened.
“Come on then, Naomikins,” he says after a second or two, and it seems to snap her out of her trance. Just like last year, after he was crowned president, she’s on him in a flash. Sloppy, needy kisses, their mouths only managing to remain connected through her hand on his cheek holding them steady. Her other hand is rested on Emily’s opposite shoulder, the one they’re not necking over, and she’s completely sandwiched between them now, surrounded. Cook lets his free hand slip from Naomi’s lower back down and onto her arse.
Normally when Cook’s kissing, he likes to get into it, focus on the now and all that, so he keeps his eyes closed. But not this time.
This time there is far too much going on for him not to keep looking. So he sees Emily taking advantage of her position and planting fleeting kisses down Naomi’s neck. He sees her start to unbutton Naomi’s top, dropping kisses further down with every button. He sees her flick Naomi’s trousers open with one hand, and watches as that hand makes its way inside them. He does not see, but rather feels something brushing along his cock very slowly. He jerks unwillingly, partly through surprise, but mainly because it felt really fucking good.
Emily’s head is turned to the side and she’s watching his reaction carefully. “Weird,” she breathes, and then smiles at his indignant look, and does it again. And going off the sharp breath Naomi just drew, he’s not the only one that Emily’s started teasing. He squeezes his hand on Emily’s tit at the same pace she’s going at, and brings his lips to her ear. He can see Naomi’s hand has dropped from Emily’s shoulder, and is now tracing it’s way up her thigh.
Emily keeps the pace going though, and his hips are now rocking against her movement, which is making his cock rub against Naomi’s leg as well. He doesn’t go too quickly - he's not ready for this to be over yet - but just enough to let the friction take the edge off the tension that's been building in his gut.
“Cook,” Naomi says.
He hums in reply, not wanting to look away from where he can see the rough outline of Naomi’s hand as it’s working under Emily’s skirt.
“Cook,” she says again, more urgently.
“Yeah babe,” he replies, again refusing to look away.
“Cook!”
He groans in annoyance and closes his eyes so as to take a proper mental picture of that moment. Once he’s satisfied that he’s got it, he turns his head towards her voice.
What he sees is a surprise. Naomi’s standing over him with her arms folded, and they are definitely nowhere near Emily’s skirt. “You’re humping my couch. Stop it.”
“Eh?” He replies, proper confused, until he looks round to see the arm of the sofa that his face had been stuffed in, all covered in drool and the small gap between cushions that pretty much lines up directly with the massive boner he is currently sporting.
“Next time you come round pissed, I am not going to let you in, you know that right?”
Cook groans. “I was having the best fucking dream right then Naomi.”
Right about then is when she clocks his erection, and whacks him on the head. “You’re disgusting.”
“Ow! You were much nicer in my dream. Where’s the love?”
Naomi takes another look down and then back to him. “You were dreaming about… Jesus! Cook, that’s… fuck!”
“Don’t look at me Blondie, you enjoyed it. Not half as much as Ems though. Any time you want to re-enact it, I’m ready yeah?”
“Urg,” she says, before stomping out the room, muttering something about him being intolerable.
Cook laughs. “They all come to the Cookie Monster in the end Naomikins!” he calls after her, and then considers heading to the shower to take that fantasy to its natural conclusion. He grins. It’s a no brainer really.
Characters: Cook/Emily/Naomi
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1,428
Summary: Um. Sort of a threesome.
Disclaimer: Not my characters
A/N: So this is a little different from anything I've done before, and uh, well yeah. Written for flister 's request on skinswishlist . Sorry again for the lateness!
He's not quite sure how he got here, but it's the best fucking place he's ever been. Fuck Disney land and all that shit - ok he’s never actually been, but why would he want to now - this is it, the jackpot. Apparently there's seven wonders of the world. Balls to that. He's looking at the eighth right now. The eighth wonder of the world is girls kissing. And right now, he's lying back on a bed, propped up on his elbows watching two girls, two extremely fit girls, standing at the end of the bed kissing. It's not just some peck for show though, these two are in to it, tongues an' all.
It was Emily who convinced Naomi, probably, not the other way round. That’s how this happened, and he’ll remember to thank her for it later. He’ll remember to thank her for it a lot.
He watches as Naomi's hand settles on Emily's waist, rubbing light circles on it, and the material has bunched up a little, exposing her skin. Cook feels the muscles in his stomach spasm again, tightening further, and he can't believe how hard he is already, and no one's even looked at him, let alone touched anything that would make him feel quite so -
Emily groans. It's not very loud, but it's just enough for him to hear and he tips his head back onto the pillow and shuts his eyes for just a second. It only takes him that second to decide. He wants to be a part of this. Pulling himself up to his knees, he edges closer to them.
Naomi notices and stops immediately. "No way Cook. We said you could watch. No touching."
"What? C'mon Naoms, cut a boy a break, yeah? I'm rock hard here, and fucking aching," he says.
Naomi looks at him, still clad in his boxers and nothing else, the material stretched as far as it will go and doesn't say anything. Mesmerised, Cook thinks, which isn't a surprise, she's not the first girl to go speechless at the sight of his dick. He takes the chance to reach out his hand towards Emily, who's slightly closer to him, and brushes his fingertips along her arm.
Surprisingly she doesn't flinch, rather she drops her eyes to watch him do it, and very slowly, a smirk appears. He glances back to Naomi, who's still just looking at his fingers, trailing over Emily's forearm, transfixed. Cook takes her inaction as a cue to push his luck a little more. Creeping forwards, he dips his head to Emily's shoulder, pressing his lips to the skin at the edge of her strappy top. There's nothing again. He moves closer to Emily's neck, decides to be a bit more daring and kisses the spot a little more forcefully. Nothing. He grins at Naomi then, and goes for it, really just fucking does it, finds her pulse point with his lips and sucks gently, lets his tongue flick out to taste her skin and stares right at Naomi the whole time. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't look away.
He thinks she might be on the verge of hitting him when Emily reaches out and takes her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Everything once," she says softly and with the hint of a smile, and it's enough for Naomi to break eye contact with Cook and look at her instead.
They might be psychic maybe, their minds working on some different level to his, cause they’re just looking and he doesn’t get it, whatever is going on. He keeps focused on his task instead then, still working on Emily’s neck, and letting a hand creep around her back and onto her stomach. Cook can’t help it really, that his hand doesn’t want to stay put, that it moves of its own accord higher up until he can feel the underside of her tit. He chances a glance at Emily’s face at that point, her eyes are half lidded, and he catches her tongue slipping out to wet her lips just before Naomi takes a step forward, leans down and kisses her, desperately, judging by the noise she makes.
He grins against Emily’s neck, grazes his teeth lightly across her skin. He’s cupping her tit now, and he’s realised that she’s not wearing a bra, because he can feel her nipple, hard, under her top and a gentle tweak of it results in the perfect moan, and he watches as Naomi’s eyes open in surprise as she feels it and catches on to what has just happened.
“Come on then, Naomikins,” he says after a second or two, and it seems to snap her out of her trance. Just like last year, after he was crowned president, she’s on him in a flash. Sloppy, needy kisses, their mouths only managing to remain connected through her hand on his cheek holding them steady. Her other hand is rested on Emily’s opposite shoulder, the one they’re not necking over, and she’s completely sandwiched between them now, surrounded. Cook lets his free hand slip from Naomi’s lower back down and onto her arse.
Normally when Cook’s kissing, he likes to get into it, focus on the now and all that, so he keeps his eyes closed. But not this time.
This time there is far too much going on for him not to keep looking. So he sees Emily taking advantage of her position and planting fleeting kisses down Naomi’s neck. He sees her start to unbutton Naomi’s top, dropping kisses further down with every button. He sees her flick Naomi’s trousers open with one hand, and watches as that hand makes its way inside them. He does not see, but rather feels something brushing along his cock very slowly. He jerks unwillingly, partly through surprise, but mainly because it felt really fucking good.
Emily’s head is turned to the side and she’s watching his reaction carefully. “Weird,” she breathes, and then smiles at his indignant look, and does it again. And going off the sharp breath Naomi just drew, he’s not the only one that Emily’s started teasing. He squeezes his hand on Emily’s tit at the same pace she’s going at, and brings his lips to her ear. He can see Naomi’s hand has dropped from Emily’s shoulder, and is now tracing it’s way up her thigh.
Emily keeps the pace going though, and his hips are now rocking against her movement, which is making his cock rub against Naomi’s leg as well. He doesn’t go too quickly - he's not ready for this to be over yet - but just enough to let the friction take the edge off the tension that's been building in his gut.
“Cook,” Naomi says.
He hums in reply, not wanting to look away from where he can see the rough outline of Naomi’s hand as it’s working under Emily’s skirt.
“Cook,” she says again, more urgently.
“Yeah babe,” he replies, again refusing to look away.
“Cook!”
He groans in annoyance and closes his eyes so as to take a proper mental picture of that moment. Once he’s satisfied that he’s got it, he turns his head towards her voice.
What he sees is a surprise. Naomi’s standing over him with her arms folded, and they are definitely nowhere near Emily’s skirt. “You’re humping my couch. Stop it.”
“Eh?” He replies, proper confused, until he looks round to see the arm of the sofa that his face had been stuffed in, all covered in drool and the small gap between cushions that pretty much lines up directly with the massive boner he is currently sporting.
“Next time you come round pissed, I am not going to let you in, you know that right?”
Cook groans. “I was having the best fucking dream right then Naomi.”
Right about then is when she clocks his erection, and whacks him on the head. “You’re disgusting.”
“Ow! You were much nicer in my dream. Where’s the love?”
Naomi takes another look down and then back to him. “You were dreaming about… Jesus! Cook, that’s… fuck!”
“Don’t look at me Blondie, you enjoyed it. Not half as much as Ems though. Any time you want to re-enact it, I’m ready yeah?”
“Urg,” she says, before stomping out the room, muttering something about him being intolerable.
Cook laughs. “They all come to the Cookie Monster in the end Naomikins!” he calls after her, and then considers heading to the shower to take that fantasy to its natural conclusion. He grins. It’s a no brainer really.