Joining Michelle's ranks and writing one thing only ever.
Preface: Never let anyone tell you not to cave to peer pressure guys, because if you're an attention whore like me you are a SUCKER for it. If everyone on Twitter started smoking I would too. If they jumped off a bridge I would find that bridge and jump too.
So yes, even though I am never ever ever on LJ anymore unless someone on Twitter or Tumblr reminds me to check their specific posts, Isa linked me to the
(DW | LJ)and I was like "well gee I really miss writing" and boom, there was a prompt and I wrote something really awful but at least it's the first thing I've written (well, more than half a paragraph) in...well, the last time I wrote a piece of fanfic, Battlestar Galactica season 4.5 hadn't aired yet. We'd just found out earth was nuked like a month ago. So there ya go, that was the last time I wrote and completed a fic, which I think means mid-2008, so I'm more than a little bad and rusty. And I don't intend to write anything else because I don't think I *can* write anything else that would be suitable for the public to read because it is all so very very bad. And and and I suck at titles so don't judge me.
Title: to make-a the bristle clean like a whistle
Rating: M/E
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: None specifically, set post-everything on a weekend in Washington DC.
Beta: NONE. I JUST WROTE IT AND POSTED IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T JUDGE ME *sobs*.
Summary: Sometimes even generals need to be reminded how to take orders. Written for the 50 Reasons to Have Sex Fic Fest.
48. To reinforce good behavior (such as shaving or dental hygiene).
"Ow! Jack, no, stop it! Ow! Seriously! You need to shave!"
The fist Jack dodges still makes contact with his ear, clipping him good, and he stops rubbing his face on her chest in surprise. When your full bird colonel, level too-many in hand-to-hand girlfriend doesn't want to make contact on a punch, she doesn't. Sam was serious. Jack glares up at her scowling face, nested in her tousled mess of gold hair and pillows at the head of the bed, and gives his mouthful of nipple a good suck, just to prove his point. Sam inhales sharply, but doesn't cave, instead deepening her scowl and actually daring to point a hand at the bathroom door. He releases her nipple with an audible pop and pushes himself up from his prone position, stalking toward the bathroom with as much righteous annoyance as a 60-something, gray-haired, maybe-a-little-bit-paunchy fully naked man can. Which is to say, not much. He hears her sigh behind him, and the sheets rustle as she throws her legs over the side of the bed, but he refuses to feel bad about ruining the mood. He wasn't the one who kicked her out of bed. He scrubs a hand over his face and tries to figure out how hot he'll need to make the water and how much shaving cream to use for two-days' growth without an ounce of sympathy. He runs the water, lathers up and catches movement from her direction out of the corner of his eye but nope, he's not gonna give her the satisfaction of looking to see if she's still naked or if she put a bathrobe on. Even if his semi-hard on would sort of still like to know. She moves around a bit and disappears from his peripheral vision sometime between shaving his upper lip and his right cheek, then enters the bathroom, hair tied back into a very messy ponytail (he flicks his eyes over to her briefly when she enters), as he's finishing up the right side of his chin and jaw.
"What," he mumbles, attention actually on not nicking the hollow underside of his jaw as he probes the area around it for stray hairs.
Sam suddenly drops to her knees in front of him, gloriously naked, and oh he thinks he should probably set the razor down even though he's only three-quarters shaved because her breath is very warm and doing very interesting things to his dick at that particular second. He fumbles the razor down onto the counter and braces his arms on the edge of the sink, then changes his mind and sinks one hand into her messy hair as she takes him into her mouth because blowjobs are never not awesome. He feels his eyes close of their own volition as she starts to bob, working the underside of his shaft with her tongue as she goes, so he concentrates on the feeling of her head under his palm, how his fingers are caught in the cool tangles of her hair but her head radiates heat and what an interesting contrast that is and not how his balls feel heavy and are shooting pleasure through his cock to build at the base of his spine. He pries his eyes open, feeling guilty, but Sam has been watching him with those big baby blues, because just as he meets her eyes, she winks and deep-throats him effortlessly.
"Fuck," he hisses, and clenches his hand in her hair. He's sure he feels a few strands rip but he's a bit beyond caring and she'll probably forgive him in the morning. He couldn't look away if he tried, now. Sam drops his gaze and works him for an impressively long time, during which he has to fight to keep from thrusting into her face, but eventually moans (drawing an answering groan from Jack as the vibrations travel up his spine and back down) and releases him with a pop even better than the one he gave her nipple not fifteen minutes ago. She closes her eyes, idly working two fingers up and down his shaft and toying his head with her thumb as she catches her breath. Jack can't help but stare, fascinated, at the saliva gathered on her lower lip and the teeny trail leading from those lips to the head of his dick. His dick throbs its agreement, begging for more. Sam laughs as she feels it jump in her hand, opening her eyes and standing up. His eyebrows go up in surprise, even as she gives him a playful tug, asking without meaning to where exactly she thinks she's going.
"The linoleum hurts my knees," she answers, proving that even if they no longer serve together in the field, their ability to communicate without words is as solid as ever. "I'm too old to be kneeling on the floor of the bathroom like an over-eager cadet with a crush. Come back to bed when you're finished." And just like that, she walks out of the bathroom, leaving him achingly hard, confused, and speechless. His fingers start to scrabble for purchase on the tile sink without conscious thought.
He doesn't think even repeating boot camp could top the speed with which he finishes shaving and chases her warm body back into their bed.
~~~
*clicks post before I change my mind and runs off in shame*
So yes, even though I am never ever ever on LJ anymore unless someone on Twitter or Tumblr reminds me to check their specific posts, Isa linked me to the
(DW | LJ)and I was like "well gee I really miss writing" and boom, there was a prompt and I wrote something really awful but at least it's the first thing I've written (well, more than half a paragraph) in...well, the last time I wrote a piece of fanfic, Battlestar Galactica season 4.5 hadn't aired yet. We'd just found out earth was nuked like a month ago. So there ya go, that was the last time I wrote and completed a fic, which I think means mid-2008, so I'm more than a little bad and rusty. And I don't intend to write anything else because I don't think I *can* write anything else that would be suitable for the public to read because it is all so very very bad. And and and I suck at titles so don't judge me.
Title: to make-a the bristle clean like a whistle
Rating: M/E
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: None specifically, set post-everything on a weekend in Washington DC.
Beta: NONE. I JUST WROTE IT AND POSTED IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T JUDGE ME *sobs*.
Summary: Sometimes even generals need to be reminded how to take orders. Written for the 50 Reasons to Have Sex Fic Fest.
48. To reinforce good behavior (such as shaving or dental hygiene).
"Ow! Jack, no, stop it! Ow! Seriously! You need to shave!"
The fist Jack dodges still makes contact with his ear, clipping him good, and he stops rubbing his face on her chest in surprise. When your full bird colonel, level too-many in hand-to-hand girlfriend doesn't want to make contact on a punch, she doesn't. Sam was serious. Jack glares up at her scowling face, nested in her tousled mess of gold hair and pillows at the head of the bed, and gives his mouthful of nipple a good suck, just to prove his point. Sam inhales sharply, but doesn't cave, instead deepening her scowl and actually daring to point a hand at the bathroom door. He releases her nipple with an audible pop and pushes himself up from his prone position, stalking toward the bathroom with as much righteous annoyance as a 60-something, gray-haired, maybe-a-little-bit-paunchy fully naked man can. Which is to say, not much. He hears her sigh behind him, and the sheets rustle as she throws her legs over the side of the bed, but he refuses to feel bad about ruining the mood. He wasn't the one who kicked her out of bed. He scrubs a hand over his face and tries to figure out how hot he'll need to make the water and how much shaving cream to use for two-days' growth without an ounce of sympathy. He runs the water, lathers up and catches movement from her direction out of the corner of his eye but nope, he's not gonna give her the satisfaction of looking to see if she's still naked or if she put a bathrobe on. Even if his semi-hard on would sort of still like to know. She moves around a bit and disappears from his peripheral vision sometime between shaving his upper lip and his right cheek, then enters the bathroom, hair tied back into a very messy ponytail (he flicks his eyes over to her briefly when she enters), as he's finishing up the right side of his chin and jaw.
"What," he mumbles, attention actually on not nicking the hollow underside of his jaw as he probes the area around it for stray hairs.
Sam suddenly drops to her knees in front of him, gloriously naked, and oh he thinks he should probably set the razor down even though he's only three-quarters shaved because her breath is very warm and doing very interesting things to his dick at that particular second. He fumbles the razor down onto the counter and braces his arms on the edge of the sink, then changes his mind and sinks one hand into her messy hair as she takes him into her mouth because blowjobs are never not awesome. He feels his eyes close of their own volition as she starts to bob, working the underside of his shaft with her tongue as she goes, so he concentrates on the feeling of her head under his palm, how his fingers are caught in the cool tangles of her hair but her head radiates heat and what an interesting contrast that is and not how his balls feel heavy and are shooting pleasure through his cock to build at the base of his spine. He pries his eyes open, feeling guilty, but Sam has been watching him with those big baby blues, because just as he meets her eyes, she winks and deep-throats him effortlessly.
"Fuck," he hisses, and clenches his hand in her hair. He's sure he feels a few strands rip but he's a bit beyond caring and she'll probably forgive him in the morning. He couldn't look away if he tried, now. Sam drops his gaze and works him for an impressively long time, during which he has to fight to keep from thrusting into her face, but eventually moans (drawing an answering groan from Jack as the vibrations travel up his spine and back down) and releases him with a pop even better than the one he gave her nipple not fifteen minutes ago. She closes her eyes, idly working two fingers up and down his shaft and toying his head with her thumb as she catches her breath. Jack can't help but stare, fascinated, at the saliva gathered on her lower lip and the teeny trail leading from those lips to the head of his dick. His dick throbs its agreement, begging for more. Sam laughs as she feels it jump in her hand, opening her eyes and standing up. His eyebrows go up in surprise, even as she gives him a playful tug, asking without meaning to where exactly she thinks she's going.
"The linoleum hurts my knees," she answers, proving that even if they no longer serve together in the field, their ability to communicate without words is as solid as ever. "I'm too old to be kneeling on the floor of the bathroom like an over-eager cadet with a crush. Come back to bed when you're finished." And just like that, she walks out of the bathroom, leaving him achingly hard, confused, and speechless. His fingers start to scrabble for purchase on the tile sink without conscious thought.
He doesn't think even repeating boot camp could top the speed with which he finishes shaving and chases her warm body back into their bed.
~~~
*clicks post before I change my mind and runs off in shame*