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Entry tags:
fic: Torchwood, Gwen/Rhys, Cue Experiment, R
Disclaimer: not mine
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Gwen/Rhys
Rating: R, kink, anal-play, language, sex, het, kissing... do I really need to go into all of this? No alien invasions.
Length: 2000+
Set: early season two, before 'Meat'.
Notes: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
palmetto whom I told to give me any prompt from the sixth porn battle to write. She chose "Rhys/Gwen, pegging".
Cue Experiment
by ALC Punk!
This is the most ridiculous getup she's seen in a while--it doesn't top the stuff she saw on a raid back when she was still just a cop, though. The flat had been filled with mannequins in all manner of dress and positioning. Even Jack Harkness would have blushed at it before quipping that perhaps they had the right idea.
"So that's it, then?"
Gwen is fairly certain this was Rhys's idea, but in the cold light of day (late evening now, of course, and she's praying her phone doesn't go off), maybe not such a good one. She still can't resist the curiosity of it, however and hefts the harness free of its packaging. "Guess I should try this on." Maybe even a little of her interest bleeds through. Or maybe Rhys finds the idea of her wearing a strap-on that affecting.
"Yeah. Bit small, innit?" There's a strange look in his eyes that disappears when he grins at her.
"Not like I ordered a deluxe model," she replies with a grin before starting to strip. Being naked in front of Rhys doesn't normally make her self-conscious. But even with this being just a game, an experiment, there's something in the air that makes her a little more tense. She almost blushes when he leers at her once she's stripped down.
"I like you like that," he says, reaching out to brush his hand over her hip.
The tension eases, and Gwen grins a little, "You might not like me for much longer," she notes, turning the webwork of straps and trying to decide where to begin with it. A laugh escapes her when she almost falls over trying to step into it, which sets Rhys to chuckling.
"Need some help?"
"Looks like it."
It ends up taking both of them to get her into the harness and they're half-giggling like school-children pulling a prank on teacher while they buckle and tighten the straps to her skin. Rhys is careful to make sure it's not too tight, his finger gliding between leather and skin, and Gwen suddenly catches her breath a little, enjoying the careful touches.
"All done," Rhys reports from his position on the floor, kneeling at her feet. He shoots her a cheeky grin and leans in to kiss her hip before scooting back and standing.
"Right." She moves, testing the feel of the harness. It's like a new belt, stiff and unyielding, though she can tell once it's broken in she'll enjoy the feel as much as she can. Until then, there might be some chafing.
Rhys fishes the dildo out of the packaging, making the plastic crackle and Gwen grins as she takes it from him. He's handling it like he thinks it's maybe a rabid dog and not simply a piece of plastic shaped like a penis. It's not even very large, since this sort of thing really should be started small. "It's not gonna bite, Rhys."
"Says you. You're not--" he stops and looks away.
Maybe he's having second thoughts. "Anytime you want, we can stop, Rhys. We can just have sex the old-fashioned way," she suggests, head down as she works out how to slide the thing into place correctly. It snaps in, pressing back against her a little. Not really paying attention to Rhys, Gwen shifts, fingers spreading and shifting her folds until the plastic nub is pressed up against her clit.
The difference is noticeable when she takes a step to get the tube of lubricant. The nub shifts and bumps, startling her for a moment. "Oh."
"Nah, I don't need to stop," Rhys says, staring at her, eyes wide with fascination, "Is that really--does it hurt?"
"It can," admits Gwen, rocking a little, feeling out the right motion to cause the end to bump her correctly. "That's why we've got a lot of this." she adds, holding up the tube of lubricant with a practical air that she spoils by giggling at the look on his face. "Do you like me like this?"
"Ask me later," he suggests, standing and reaching for her.
Kissing Rhys whilst wearing the harness and dildo is different enough that Gwen's a little too distracted to point out that he should be stripping soon. His hands slide down her sides and back, cupping her ass and pulling her closer. A mistake that makes him wince and her laugh when she jabs him (the little plastic nub presses hard and the laugh is a little bit of a squeak).
"Ow," he complains.
"Did I poke you too hard with my cock?" she asks, giggling at the look on his face and turning her hips so the protrusion slides to one side of him.
"Yeah. Hope that's not--"
"Hey." Gwen shakes her head, "Let's not make trouble before it happens." Then she kisses him again, taking her time about it and encouraging his hands again.
Rhys is normally a meat and potatoes man when it comes to sex. He'll flirt and play, but when it comes down to it, he likes a good shag with her below him, legs spread and breasts within easy reach for playing. On top works out good, too. But this idea of his is a bit different, and Gwen finds herself curious whether he'll let her go all the way.
Palming him through his trousers, she chuckles, "At least you're interested."
"Oh, aye," he replies, tickling her sides and then backing away to start undressing, "Although I've never been attracted to a bloke before so much in my life."
"Bet you say that to all the boys," Gwen returns with a laugh, walking carefully to the bed and kneeling before reaching between her legs and adjusting things again. Her fingers come away damp and she grins a little to herself. Rhys might be getting off on this, but she's enjoying just the feel of it. A speculative thought about finding someone (Tosh is a bad idea, sex with co-workers never ends well) and testing out the harness if Rhys decides to toss it aside crosses her mind.
"Only the ones named Gwen Cooper."
That is sweet and silly, and Gwen looks over her shoulder at him, posing for a moment before giving up being serious. "C'mere, baby. I got somethin' for you."
Rhys chortles, hopping on one foot to pull off his sock, "You sound ridiculous."
"I feel ridiculous. Mostly," she admits with an honesty she can't use in other aspects of their life together.
"Makes two of us, then." He catches her in a hug and kisses her shoulder.
He's half-hard and Gwen reaches down to cup and stroke him, hoping that will get him more in the mood. "C'mon, on the bed, Rhys."
"Yes, mistress," he replies, tone cheeky as he obeys, flopping on his side and looking up at her.
Gwen laughs, "Not like that, on your hands and knees. Now," she orders, ruining the seriousness of her tone by giggling again.
He joins her, laughing and finally getting up onto his hands and knees, back to her. Gwen reaches out and strokes a hand over his bottom and around, cupping him again and moving up to kiss his back. He hardens in her hand and she grins and squeezes gently.
"Be gentle now," he instructs.
"As gentle as a lamb," Gwen soothes, giggling as she reaches for the tube of lube. It's cold and thicker than she expected, sticking and drippy all at once. She wraps her hand back around him, feeling him yelp a little before making a rumbling sound she knows well as she slowly strokes him, feeling the difference in texture with the goop on her hand.
The dildo bumps against Rhys, pushing the nub up against her again and Gwen pauses to slide a fingerfull of lube between her legs, stroking the plastic and her clit before reseating everything. It's better. She flicks a finger at the dildo and bites her lip at the difference. It slips and slides against her now, pressing and pushing in almost the right way. Returning to Rhys, she laughs at the way he's looking back at her, almost worried. "It's all right," she says, "I've read the manual."
And she had, read it over twice, even. The instructions for preperation loom large in her mind's eye as she works at him, fingers gripping and stroking, pushing and shifting. She spreads lube everywhere, making a mess and laughing softly at herself and Rhys for their own foibles. He relaxes with the laughter, tensing and groaning a little when she tightens her hand around him and works a finger, then two, in and out, testing the limits of what he wants.
When he pushes back against her hand, she bends to kiss the small of his back. "Are you ready?"
He laughs, sounding nervous again, "As I'll ever be."
"Take a good look, Rhys," she instructs, straightening and turning a little so the dildo sticks out in an obscene parody of Rhys with his own tackle out on display.
Rhys laughs, "I should take a picture of this moment, Gwen Cooper, valkyrie warrior and her wedding tackle."
Laughing, Gwen shoves at him, then gets into position before either of them can lose their nerve. She barely gets inside before he freezes. "C'mon, Rhys, it's not gonna hurt."
"Yeah?"
She reaches under him again, stroking her finger along his hardened cock, "No. Just a little twinge, Rhys." Perhaps it's not even a little white lie. She presses forward, biting her lip as the nub presses back into her clitoris.
With care, Gwen strokes in and out until she's got the dildo most of the way inside of Rhys. He wasn't as uncooperative as she'd thought he might be. Not that she would have insisted if he'd asked her to stop. But her hand on his dick tells her that he's enjoying this, that he might actually be harder than she's felt him in a while. Perhaps there are books on this sort of thing, she thinks as she sets up a rhythm that he encourages by moving back against her.
It's strange and weird, and she laughs more than once, giggles that make him laugh in return. Something about the oddity, about the fact that she can feel how much he likes this--and maybe she likes it, too. There's a sense of power, being on top like this, and Gwen catches her breath in shock a little when the rhythm proves to be almost good enough for her, too.
Rhys comes suddenly, spilling over her hand and grunting with his release. Slowing her thrusts, Gwen makes a noise of disappointment at the back of her throat, feeling her buzz fading a little.
"God, Gwen," he mumbles, slumping forward and sliding free of her hand and cock. He rolls onto his side and stares at her. "That was..."
"Nice?" Gwen guesses, sitting back on her heels and letting the hand she's been using on him cup the fake cock. She strokes it, finding the rhythm that presses just right against her, and closes her eyes, a low moan coming from her throat as she imagines it's Rhys doing this.
"Very nice," he agrees, wiggling closer to her and adding his fingers into the mix. One slides into her, wriggling and twisting until he hits a spot that makes her arch and press down against his hand.
It takes very little more to get her off and then she's slumping down against him, not aware for a moment how sticky they both are.
Rhys laughs a little, "Well."
"Adds spice, eh?" she mumbles, nudging him and making a face. "The bed's a mess."
"Yeah. How 'bout a shower, strip, then sleep?"
"Could do with a cuppa, too," Gwen decides, rolling and climbing up off the bed with a groan. She stretches, the straps of the harness sliding against her skin and reminding her of what they've been doing. Glancing down, she eyes it, then shrugs. "How 'bout you do the dicking about next time, Rhys?"
He laughs as he climbs to his feet, "It's a deal." He makes a face, "'Specially since now I'm walkin' funny."
"'s your own bloody fault," she reminds him, popping the dildo free and heading towards the toilet. The instructions had said to clean after every use. She was beginning to see why.
-f-
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Gwen/Rhys
Rating: R, kink, anal-play, language, sex, het, kissing... do I really need to go into all of this? No alien invasions.
Length: 2000+
Set: early season two, before 'Meat'.
Notes: This was written for
palmetto whom I told to give me any prompt from the sixth porn battle to write. She chose "Rhys/Gwen, pegging".Cue Experiment
by ALC Punk!
This is the most ridiculous getup she's seen in a while--it doesn't top the stuff she saw on a raid back when she was still just a cop, though. The flat had been filled with mannequins in all manner of dress and positioning. Even Jack Harkness would have blushed at it before quipping that perhaps they had the right idea.
"So that's it, then?"
Gwen is fairly certain this was Rhys's idea, but in the cold light of day (late evening now, of course, and she's praying her phone doesn't go off), maybe not such a good one. She still can't resist the curiosity of it, however and hefts the harness free of its packaging. "Guess I should try this on." Maybe even a little of her interest bleeds through. Or maybe Rhys finds the idea of her wearing a strap-on that affecting.
"Yeah. Bit small, innit?" There's a strange look in his eyes that disappears when he grins at her.
"Not like I ordered a deluxe model," she replies with a grin before starting to strip. Being naked in front of Rhys doesn't normally make her self-conscious. But even with this being just a game, an experiment, there's something in the air that makes her a little more tense. She almost blushes when he leers at her once she's stripped down.
"I like you like that," he says, reaching out to brush his hand over her hip.
The tension eases, and Gwen grins a little, "You might not like me for much longer," she notes, turning the webwork of straps and trying to decide where to begin with it. A laugh escapes her when she almost falls over trying to step into it, which sets Rhys to chuckling.
"Need some help?"
"Looks like it."
It ends up taking both of them to get her into the harness and they're half-giggling like school-children pulling a prank on teacher while they buckle and tighten the straps to her skin. Rhys is careful to make sure it's not too tight, his finger gliding between leather and skin, and Gwen suddenly catches her breath a little, enjoying the careful touches.
"All done," Rhys reports from his position on the floor, kneeling at her feet. He shoots her a cheeky grin and leans in to kiss her hip before scooting back and standing.
"Right." She moves, testing the feel of the harness. It's like a new belt, stiff and unyielding, though she can tell once it's broken in she'll enjoy the feel as much as she can. Until then, there might be some chafing.
Rhys fishes the dildo out of the packaging, making the plastic crackle and Gwen grins as she takes it from him. He's handling it like he thinks it's maybe a rabid dog and not simply a piece of plastic shaped like a penis. It's not even very large, since this sort of thing really should be started small. "It's not gonna bite, Rhys."
"Says you. You're not--" he stops and looks away.
Maybe he's having second thoughts. "Anytime you want, we can stop, Rhys. We can just have sex the old-fashioned way," she suggests, head down as she works out how to slide the thing into place correctly. It snaps in, pressing back against her a little. Not really paying attention to Rhys, Gwen shifts, fingers spreading and shifting her folds until the plastic nub is pressed up against her clit.
The difference is noticeable when she takes a step to get the tube of lubricant. The nub shifts and bumps, startling her for a moment. "Oh."
"Nah, I don't need to stop," Rhys says, staring at her, eyes wide with fascination, "Is that really--does it hurt?"
"It can," admits Gwen, rocking a little, feeling out the right motion to cause the end to bump her correctly. "That's why we've got a lot of this." she adds, holding up the tube of lubricant with a practical air that she spoils by giggling at the look on his face. "Do you like me like this?"
"Ask me later," he suggests, standing and reaching for her.
Kissing Rhys whilst wearing the harness and dildo is different enough that Gwen's a little too distracted to point out that he should be stripping soon. His hands slide down her sides and back, cupping her ass and pulling her closer. A mistake that makes him wince and her laugh when she jabs him (the little plastic nub presses hard and the laugh is a little bit of a squeak).
"Ow," he complains.
"Did I poke you too hard with my cock?" she asks, giggling at the look on his face and turning her hips so the protrusion slides to one side of him.
"Yeah. Hope that's not--"
"Hey." Gwen shakes her head, "Let's not make trouble before it happens." Then she kisses him again, taking her time about it and encouraging his hands again.
Rhys is normally a meat and potatoes man when it comes to sex. He'll flirt and play, but when it comes down to it, he likes a good shag with her below him, legs spread and breasts within easy reach for playing. On top works out good, too. But this idea of his is a bit different, and Gwen finds herself curious whether he'll let her go all the way.
Palming him through his trousers, she chuckles, "At least you're interested."
"Oh, aye," he replies, tickling her sides and then backing away to start undressing, "Although I've never been attracted to a bloke before so much in my life."
"Bet you say that to all the boys," Gwen returns with a laugh, walking carefully to the bed and kneeling before reaching between her legs and adjusting things again. Her fingers come away damp and she grins a little to herself. Rhys might be getting off on this, but she's enjoying just the feel of it. A speculative thought about finding someone (Tosh is a bad idea, sex with co-workers never ends well) and testing out the harness if Rhys decides to toss it aside crosses her mind.
"Only the ones named Gwen Cooper."
That is sweet and silly, and Gwen looks over her shoulder at him, posing for a moment before giving up being serious. "C'mere, baby. I got somethin' for you."
Rhys chortles, hopping on one foot to pull off his sock, "You sound ridiculous."
"I feel ridiculous. Mostly," she admits with an honesty she can't use in other aspects of their life together.
"Makes two of us, then." He catches her in a hug and kisses her shoulder.
He's half-hard and Gwen reaches down to cup and stroke him, hoping that will get him more in the mood. "C'mon, on the bed, Rhys."
"Yes, mistress," he replies, tone cheeky as he obeys, flopping on his side and looking up at her.
Gwen laughs, "Not like that, on your hands and knees. Now," she orders, ruining the seriousness of her tone by giggling again.
He joins her, laughing and finally getting up onto his hands and knees, back to her. Gwen reaches out and strokes a hand over his bottom and around, cupping him again and moving up to kiss his back. He hardens in her hand and she grins and squeezes gently.
"Be gentle now," he instructs.
"As gentle as a lamb," Gwen soothes, giggling as she reaches for the tube of lube. It's cold and thicker than she expected, sticking and drippy all at once. She wraps her hand back around him, feeling him yelp a little before making a rumbling sound she knows well as she slowly strokes him, feeling the difference in texture with the goop on her hand.
The dildo bumps against Rhys, pushing the nub up against her again and Gwen pauses to slide a fingerfull of lube between her legs, stroking the plastic and her clit before reseating everything. It's better. She flicks a finger at the dildo and bites her lip at the difference. It slips and slides against her now, pressing and pushing in almost the right way. Returning to Rhys, she laughs at the way he's looking back at her, almost worried. "It's all right," she says, "I've read the manual."
And she had, read it over twice, even. The instructions for preperation loom large in her mind's eye as she works at him, fingers gripping and stroking, pushing and shifting. She spreads lube everywhere, making a mess and laughing softly at herself and Rhys for their own foibles. He relaxes with the laughter, tensing and groaning a little when she tightens her hand around him and works a finger, then two, in and out, testing the limits of what he wants.
When he pushes back against her hand, she bends to kiss the small of his back. "Are you ready?"
He laughs, sounding nervous again, "As I'll ever be."
"Take a good look, Rhys," she instructs, straightening and turning a little so the dildo sticks out in an obscene parody of Rhys with his own tackle out on display.
Rhys laughs, "I should take a picture of this moment, Gwen Cooper, valkyrie warrior and her wedding tackle."
Laughing, Gwen shoves at him, then gets into position before either of them can lose their nerve. She barely gets inside before he freezes. "C'mon, Rhys, it's not gonna hurt."
"Yeah?"
She reaches under him again, stroking her finger along his hardened cock, "No. Just a little twinge, Rhys." Perhaps it's not even a little white lie. She presses forward, biting her lip as the nub presses back into her clitoris.
With care, Gwen strokes in and out until she's got the dildo most of the way inside of Rhys. He wasn't as uncooperative as she'd thought he might be. Not that she would have insisted if he'd asked her to stop. But her hand on his dick tells her that he's enjoying this, that he might actually be harder than she's felt him in a while. Perhaps there are books on this sort of thing, she thinks as she sets up a rhythm that he encourages by moving back against her.
It's strange and weird, and she laughs more than once, giggles that make him laugh in return. Something about the oddity, about the fact that she can feel how much he likes this--and maybe she likes it, too. There's a sense of power, being on top like this, and Gwen catches her breath in shock a little when the rhythm proves to be almost good enough for her, too.
Rhys comes suddenly, spilling over her hand and grunting with his release. Slowing her thrusts, Gwen makes a noise of disappointment at the back of her throat, feeling her buzz fading a little.
"God, Gwen," he mumbles, slumping forward and sliding free of her hand and cock. He rolls onto his side and stares at her. "That was..."
"Nice?" Gwen guesses, sitting back on her heels and letting the hand she's been using on him cup the fake cock. She strokes it, finding the rhythm that presses just right against her, and closes her eyes, a low moan coming from her throat as she imagines it's Rhys doing this.
"Very nice," he agrees, wiggling closer to her and adding his fingers into the mix. One slides into her, wriggling and twisting until he hits a spot that makes her arch and press down against his hand.
It takes very little more to get her off and then she's slumping down against him, not aware for a moment how sticky they both are.
Rhys laughs a little, "Well."
"Adds spice, eh?" she mumbles, nudging him and making a face. "The bed's a mess."
"Yeah. How 'bout a shower, strip, then sleep?"
"Could do with a cuppa, too," Gwen decides, rolling and climbing up off the bed with a groan. She stretches, the straps of the harness sliding against her skin and reminding her of what they've been doing. Glancing down, she eyes it, then shrugs. "How 'bout you do the dicking about next time, Rhys?"
He laughs as he climbs to his feet, "It's a deal." He makes a face, "'Specially since now I'm walkin' funny."
"'s your own bloody fault," she reminds him, popping the dildo free and heading towards the toilet. The instructions had said to clean after every use. She was beginning to see why.
-f-
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Thank you =)
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Thank you! =D