![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: The Invisible Man (O'Neill style)
Author:
logans_girl2001
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Daniel/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Category: Slash, first time
Status: Complete
Archive: My website
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters.
Author's Notes: I was a bad friend and forgot someone's birthday. To make up for it I offered to write a story based on a prompt. The one I got was: Jack takes advantage of being invisible and torments Daniel by whispering NC-17 things in his ear. Unfortunately, my Jack muse didn't like that idea. Hopefully this works just as well.
Sequel/Series: None
Summary: Plot, what plot?
Warnings: None
Spoilers: All aired episodes are fair game.
Beta:
billystarpip and
thought-i-was-witty. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
Daniel's POV:
The first time I hear it I think it's part of my dream. A very common dream, too. One in which Jack is riding my cock in Hammond's chair. Only Jack's not a talker in my dreams; mostly because I'm not any good at talking dirty and, since it is my subconscious, then neither is Jack.
But this time's different; this time Jack is describing in vivid detail just what he wants to do to me. Every word out of his mouth challenges my perception of him. Up until this moment in time I thought Jack was as straight as they come and with him being career military, and that stupid fucking law that prohibits him from engaging in a relationship with another man, he never even hinted that he feels this way about me.
The dream is so vivid I can even feel his breath on the side of my face. The feel of his teeth sinking into the flesh of my earlobe brings me instantly awake. And that's when I realize that I haven't been dreaming; that somehow Jack has gotten into my apartment, my bedroom, my bed without waking me and is now molesting my ear with his tongue.
"Whatcha say, Danny? Hm?" One hand slips under the covers and into my sleep pants where his fingers curl around my erection. "Can I do all that to ya? Or do ya wanna do that to me?" He gives a couple of tugs, pulling a deep guttural moan from deep within me. "You were saying some rather interesting things in your sleep." He nips at the corner of my jaw. "Hammond's chair, huh?" He chuckles. "I think I can get behind that idea."
Knowing that there is enough light coming in through the blinds from the security light outside my bedroom window, I turn my head toward him. I have to see for myself that he's truly here, in my bed, in my room, with his hand wrapped around my dick.
"Nuh-uh, Danny-boy." He puts something over my eyes and lifts my head to tie it. "No peeking."
Not being able to see causes me to start panicking, but before it gets too severe, he's kissing my face and murmuring soothing words of encouragement that leave me breathless and increases my arousal.
"Top or bottom?" The words are out before they even fully form in my brain, surprising even me. But I refuse to take them back, even though I always thought that if we were ever here, I'd let him top, despite the fact that I always top in my dreams.
"Oh, most definitely bottom, Danny-boy." His chuckle is pure sin and goes straight to my cock which twitches in his grip.
"Oooh, someone likes that idea." He squeezes me and strokes up so he can run his thumb over the tip. "I bet you never thought I'd go for that, didja? I mean, a career military man like myself must be a total top, right? That the very thought of taking some guy's dick up my ass must have it puckering so tight that I'm in danger of never taking a shit again. Am I right?"
I try to answer but the only sounds I'm currently capable of making can in no way be described as words.
His snicker does absolutely nothing to put me at ease. "Okay, I get it. I should stop torturing you." A long lick up the side of my neck with the flat of his tongue. "It's just that it's way too much fun. I almost never get to see you at a loss for words."
"J-Ja-Jack," I manage to stutter out his name.
"Yes, Daniel?" How is he so fucking calm? I can feel his own erection poking me in the hip so I know he's not as unaffected by this as he wants me to think.
"Please." If he doesn't do anything more than lazily stroking my dick, I just might die.
"Please, what?"
"St-stop t-teasing." My breath is coming in huge heaving gulps. I want nothing more than to rip the blindfold off, roll him over and fuck myself on his dick until I forget my own name.
"Not teasing when you plan on acting on it." He suddenly whips away my covers and pulls my sleep pants down and off. "I knew you'd be beautiful, Danny." His voice holds the same reverence that mine probably does when I discover a new artifact.
I can feel the heat of a blush spreading over my skin. I know I'm not beautiful; not like I imagine that Jack is. But he wouldn't lie, would he? And the awe in his voice. Would that be there if it wasn't true? Jack has a perfect poker face, just look at how often he's fooled the Goa'uld into thinking he's not a threat. But I still doubt that he's that good of a liar.
"I could sit here all day and just look at you." His voice is soft, almost as if he's afraid if he speaks too loud I'll come to my senses and demand he leave.
"Jackā¦" I reach for him only to have him take my hands and press them to the bed over my head. Obeying the unspoken command, I wrap my hands around the slats in the headboard.
"I really want to know how you taste but somehow I don't think you'd appreciate that at this time." Despite his words, he leans down and licks a stripe up my dick. "Mm. So fucking tasty." His breath is hot on the skin of my lower abdomen.
His name, which appears to be the only word left in my vocabulary, comes out all breathy accompanied by a full body flinch at the feel of his teeth on my left hip.
He sighs. "I know, Daniel. I'm getting there. I swear." The bed shifts underneath me when he rises up on his knees to straddle my hips.
When he leans over me to rummage in one of the drawers, his erection leaves a wet smear on my stomach. My cock twitches at this evidence that I make him as hot and hard as he makes me.
"Oh, poor Daniel." His voice holds a hint of a pout and I really wish I could see Jack O'Neill pouting. But he asked me to not remove the blindfold and I have to admit not being able to see makes it some much more thrilling. "No condoms, not even any lube. When's the last time you got laid?" He tsks. "Please tell me that you don't jerk it dry? And that there has been someone since you came back from Abydos." I can feel him shrug and then lean to the other side. "No matter. I brought my own."
The heat of his hand when he rolls the condom on has a whimper escaping. "Shush, now. I got you." He leans down and puts his mouth next to my ear. "We're almost there. Promise."
The sound of the cap on the lube is followed by the sounds of him warming some on his fingers for a few seconds before I hear a hitched breath and I just know he's fingering himself in preparation of fucking himself on my dick. "Oh, God, Daniel. If only you could see this." If only. But I can use my imagination. Shared showers are a gay man's gift from god as well as his worst nightmare.
I lick my lips and open my mouth to beg him to stop the torture, but he has decided to end it on his own. "Alright. Enough of that. Time for the main event."
Holding my cock steady, he slowly impales himself on it. It's obvious he either hasn't ever done this or it's been a while because his pants hold an edge of pain and he is going much slower than I would expect him to.
When he's only half way, he pauses for a second before he rises back up until he's almost all the way off. He then begins to lower himself again and once again stops half way and pulls almost all the way off. He repeats this for several long agonizing minutes before lowering himself and extra inch on the way down until he's sitting flush in the cradle of my hips and his balls are resting on my stomach. I fist my hands in the sheets under my head in an effort to keep my rapidly approaching climax at bay.
"Ah, Daniel. I should have done this sooner." His words are the catalyst that signals the end of my tenuous hold on my control.
And of course, he knows, the bastard. His chuckle at my distress is nothing but pure evil.
"Can you hold out a bit longer, Danny-boy?" He leans forward to whisper against my lips before sealing his mouth to mine, so he can steal the very breath from my lungs. He breaks the kiss but doesn't move very far away. "Gonna fuck you so fucking good!" And with those words as my only warning, he begins to move.
Up, down, in a circle clockwise, in a circle counterclockwise, rocking back and forth, there is no pattern to his movements and before I'm left wondering which way is up and has my world narrowed down to where our skin is touching.
All too soon it becomes obvious that I am not going to win the battle for control over my orgasm. Knowing it'll happen whether or not I want it to, I sit up and wrap my arms around his shoulders so that I can roll us over. "Now I'm gonna fuck you until you can't sit!"
Unfortunately, I am unable to keep that promise as my orgasm hits me with the force of a two-ton truck after just five thrusts. My world stops for a really long moment before bursting into a million billion pieces and a rush of sound that leaves me light headed.
My arms give out, but I have just enough brain cells left to not completely collapse on top of him and to reach between us and stroke him to his own climax. I don't, however, have enough to count how many strokes it takes before his spurting all over my hand.
Rolling off him, I reach over and, after fumbling for a few seconds, manage to find the tissue box. "Here." Grabbing a couple, I toss one in his general direction, since I still haven't taken off the blindfold, before swiping at my sticky hand and chest.
The condom gets a knot tied in it before it gets wadded up in the tissue and thrown in the direction of the trash can.
Sleep is pulling strongly at me so, keeping my eyes closed, I remove the blindfold and roll over to my left and let it claim me. A prayer to whichever god is listening, asking that this not be a (very vivid) dream, is my last thought before I slip into unconsciousness.
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Daniel/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Category: Slash, first time
Status: Complete
Archive: My website
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters.
Author's Notes: I was a bad friend and forgot someone's birthday. To make up for it I offered to write a story based on a prompt. The one I got was: Jack takes advantage of being invisible and torments Daniel by whispering NC-17 things in his ear. Unfortunately, my Jack muse didn't like that idea. Hopefully this works just as well.
Sequel/Series: None
Summary: Plot, what plot?
Warnings: None
Spoilers: All aired episodes are fair game.
Beta:
Daniel's POV:
The first time I hear it I think it's part of my dream. A very common dream, too. One in which Jack is riding my cock in Hammond's chair. Only Jack's not a talker in my dreams; mostly because I'm not any good at talking dirty and, since it is my subconscious, then neither is Jack.
But this time's different; this time Jack is describing in vivid detail just what he wants to do to me. Every word out of his mouth challenges my perception of him. Up until this moment in time I thought Jack was as straight as they come and with him being career military, and that stupid fucking law that prohibits him from engaging in a relationship with another man, he never even hinted that he feels this way about me.
The dream is so vivid I can even feel his breath on the side of my face. The feel of his teeth sinking into the flesh of my earlobe brings me instantly awake. And that's when I realize that I haven't been dreaming; that somehow Jack has gotten into my apartment, my bedroom, my bed without waking me and is now molesting my ear with his tongue.
"Whatcha say, Danny? Hm?" One hand slips under the covers and into my sleep pants where his fingers curl around my erection. "Can I do all that to ya? Or do ya wanna do that to me?" He gives a couple of tugs, pulling a deep guttural moan from deep within me. "You were saying some rather interesting things in your sleep." He nips at the corner of my jaw. "Hammond's chair, huh?" He chuckles. "I think I can get behind that idea."
Knowing that there is enough light coming in through the blinds from the security light outside my bedroom window, I turn my head toward him. I have to see for myself that he's truly here, in my bed, in my room, with his hand wrapped around my dick.
"Nuh-uh, Danny-boy." He puts something over my eyes and lifts my head to tie it. "No peeking."
Not being able to see causes me to start panicking, but before it gets too severe, he's kissing my face and murmuring soothing words of encouragement that leave me breathless and increases my arousal.
"Top or bottom?" The words are out before they even fully form in my brain, surprising even me. But I refuse to take them back, even though I always thought that if we were ever here, I'd let him top, despite the fact that I always top in my dreams.
"Oh, most definitely bottom, Danny-boy." His chuckle is pure sin and goes straight to my cock which twitches in his grip.
"Oooh, someone likes that idea." He squeezes me and strokes up so he can run his thumb over the tip. "I bet you never thought I'd go for that, didja? I mean, a career military man like myself must be a total top, right? That the very thought of taking some guy's dick up my ass must have it puckering so tight that I'm in danger of never taking a shit again. Am I right?"
I try to answer but the only sounds I'm currently capable of making can in no way be described as words.
His snicker does absolutely nothing to put me at ease. "Okay, I get it. I should stop torturing you." A long lick up the side of my neck with the flat of his tongue. "It's just that it's way too much fun. I almost never get to see you at a loss for words."
"J-Ja-Jack," I manage to stutter out his name.
"Yes, Daniel?" How is he so fucking calm? I can feel his own erection poking me in the hip so I know he's not as unaffected by this as he wants me to think.
"Please." If he doesn't do anything more than lazily stroking my dick, I just might die.
"Please, what?"
"St-stop t-teasing." My breath is coming in huge heaving gulps. I want nothing more than to rip the blindfold off, roll him over and fuck myself on his dick until I forget my own name.
"Not teasing when you plan on acting on it." He suddenly whips away my covers and pulls my sleep pants down and off. "I knew you'd be beautiful, Danny." His voice holds the same reverence that mine probably does when I discover a new artifact.
I can feel the heat of a blush spreading over my skin. I know I'm not beautiful; not like I imagine that Jack is. But he wouldn't lie, would he? And the awe in his voice. Would that be there if it wasn't true? Jack has a perfect poker face, just look at how often he's fooled the Goa'uld into thinking he's not a threat. But I still doubt that he's that good of a liar.
"I could sit here all day and just look at you." His voice is soft, almost as if he's afraid if he speaks too loud I'll come to my senses and demand he leave.
"Jackā¦" I reach for him only to have him take my hands and press them to the bed over my head. Obeying the unspoken command, I wrap my hands around the slats in the headboard.
"I really want to know how you taste but somehow I don't think you'd appreciate that at this time." Despite his words, he leans down and licks a stripe up my dick. "Mm. So fucking tasty." His breath is hot on the skin of my lower abdomen.
His name, which appears to be the only word left in my vocabulary, comes out all breathy accompanied by a full body flinch at the feel of his teeth on my left hip.
He sighs. "I know, Daniel. I'm getting there. I swear." The bed shifts underneath me when he rises up on his knees to straddle my hips.
When he leans over me to rummage in one of the drawers, his erection leaves a wet smear on my stomach. My cock twitches at this evidence that I make him as hot and hard as he makes me.
"Oh, poor Daniel." His voice holds a hint of a pout and I really wish I could see Jack O'Neill pouting. But he asked me to not remove the blindfold and I have to admit not being able to see makes it some much more thrilling. "No condoms, not even any lube. When's the last time you got laid?" He tsks. "Please tell me that you don't jerk it dry? And that there has been someone since you came back from Abydos." I can feel him shrug and then lean to the other side. "No matter. I brought my own."
The heat of his hand when he rolls the condom on has a whimper escaping. "Shush, now. I got you." He leans down and puts his mouth next to my ear. "We're almost there. Promise."
The sound of the cap on the lube is followed by the sounds of him warming some on his fingers for a few seconds before I hear a hitched breath and I just know he's fingering himself in preparation of fucking himself on my dick. "Oh, God, Daniel. If only you could see this." If only. But I can use my imagination. Shared showers are a gay man's gift from god as well as his worst nightmare.
I lick my lips and open my mouth to beg him to stop the torture, but he has decided to end it on his own. "Alright. Enough of that. Time for the main event."
Holding my cock steady, he slowly impales himself on it. It's obvious he either hasn't ever done this or it's been a while because his pants hold an edge of pain and he is going much slower than I would expect him to.
When he's only half way, he pauses for a second before he rises back up until he's almost all the way off. He then begins to lower himself again and once again stops half way and pulls almost all the way off. He repeats this for several long agonizing minutes before lowering himself and extra inch on the way down until he's sitting flush in the cradle of my hips and his balls are resting on my stomach. I fist my hands in the sheets under my head in an effort to keep my rapidly approaching climax at bay.
"Ah, Daniel. I should have done this sooner." His words are the catalyst that signals the end of my tenuous hold on my control.
And of course, he knows, the bastard. His chuckle at my distress is nothing but pure evil.
"Can you hold out a bit longer, Danny-boy?" He leans forward to whisper against my lips before sealing his mouth to mine, so he can steal the very breath from my lungs. He breaks the kiss but doesn't move very far away. "Gonna fuck you so fucking good!" And with those words as my only warning, he begins to move.
Up, down, in a circle clockwise, in a circle counterclockwise, rocking back and forth, there is no pattern to his movements and before I'm left wondering which way is up and has my world narrowed down to where our skin is touching.
All too soon it becomes obvious that I am not going to win the battle for control over my orgasm. Knowing it'll happen whether or not I want it to, I sit up and wrap my arms around his shoulders so that I can roll us over. "Now I'm gonna fuck you until you can't sit!"
Unfortunately, I am unable to keep that promise as my orgasm hits me with the force of a two-ton truck after just five thrusts. My world stops for a really long moment before bursting into a million billion pieces and a rush of sound that leaves me light headed.
My arms give out, but I have just enough brain cells left to not completely collapse on top of him and to reach between us and stroke him to his own climax. I don't, however, have enough to count how many strokes it takes before his spurting all over my hand.
Rolling off him, I reach over and, after fumbling for a few seconds, manage to find the tissue box. "Here." Grabbing a couple, I toss one in his general direction, since I still haven't taken off the blindfold, before swiping at my sticky hand and chest.
The condom gets a knot tied in it before it gets wadded up in the tissue and thrown in the direction of the trash can.
Sleep is pulling strongly at me so, keeping my eyes closed, I remove the blindfold and roll over to my left and let it claim me. A prayer to whichever god is listening, asking that this not be a (very vivid) dream, is my last thought before I slip into unconsciousness.