Jack Vincent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rockabillyboy) wrote2016-04-18 04:05 pm
rockabillyboy) wrote2016-04-18 04:05 pm
AU - Blue
He's not entirely sure what they're doing here - they've kind of been avoiding putting labels on it - but it's definitely fun. They're definitely having fun. Jack has been working really hard on being a gentleman, which has been...challenging. He's been doing a lot of meditating, among other things. It's been partially successful.
Early that morning, he'd texted Blue with picnic?
Twelve finds him leaning back against Ghost, looking up at her window, arms folded loosely across his chest.
Early that morning, he'd texted Blue with picnic?
Twelve finds him leaning back against Ghost, looking up at her window, arms folded loosely across his chest.
no subject
They don't kiss. They can't kiss. Jack knows that. It thrums through his temples like a heartbeat. He looks up at her and then, fingers trembling, he reaches out and traces the neckline of her dress, his fingertips whisper soft against her skin.
no subject
His fingers are hesitant and gentle on her skin, a question, a promise, and she lets her eyes flutter shut for a minute before meeting his. It feels like he must be able to feel her heart quick under his hand.
For so long, this terrifying warning against kissing has been a locked gate: this feels a little like sneaking over it, slipping through it. Or it could.
She wants it to.
Blue presses into his fingers a little and leans in to run a thumb over his lips, to brush lashes and nose in a slow stripe against his neck. She wants to kiss him, so badly it aches, but if she can't --
no subject
He leans in, shifting, so that when he bends his head his eyelashes and lips brush against the smooth skin of Blue's chest. He's touched her but only ever over clothes before.
"God, Blue."
no subject
He lowers his head, warm breath and lips soft on her skin, those gorgeous eyelashes tease-soft. Blue sighs and rolls back to allow him more access to her, a little bold, a little nervous; slides her hand into his hair.
Having chosen a dress that at core is a slip doesn't help, every movement a brush of satin, too thin to hide her body's reaction. His breath is warm through it and she would beg for his mouth just a hair lower. What's a kiss? What counts?
"What?" she whispers back, unsure of herself but smiling.
no subject
She lies back, offers herself up like that and Jack feels so intensely, stupidly lucky for a moment. Lifting his head slightly, he can see the press of her nipples against thin fabric. A shiver goes straight through him and, feeling bolder and bolder, he shifts his mouth into the fabric of her dress, brushing one soft peak through the fabric.
"You're beautiful."
no subject
She gasps, whimpers almost as he brushes his mouth over her breast, arching into the touch. "Oh. Please?"
Blue blinks up at him: right now she feels beautiful, feels that he thinks it. "You're amazing," she tells him, smiling, breathless.
no subject
Jack shakes his head and brushes his mouth over her nipple again, more definitely this time, firmer. His other hand skins against her side, rucking up the fabric of her dress instead.
no subject
She bites down on her lip over a soft needy whimper. She wants more contact, and she reaches her free hand under his shirt to sketch her fingers across his skin.
Even wanting, trembling like a string he's pulled taut, Blue tenses, a little, when he moves to the hem of her dress. She lets out a breath and presses into his fingers, meeting his eyes.
no subject
Jack presses his hand flat against her thigh, his mouth still against the fabric of her dress and then he lifts his head, looking up at her, eyebrows raised.
He asks permission, because it's important to him to do it.
no subject
That still, the eyebrow raise, makes Blue feel incredibly safe. That no, even with theory thrown to the wind, this isn't leading on, this dress and her body, the little sighs he draws from her, the very fact of her stupid curse. That if she said stop now, it'd be okay.
She abruptly doesn't want to stop at all. Instead she smiles, and bold, slides her hand down over his to guide him up further. Yes.
no subject
Trembling slightly, aware that his palm is probably damp where it presses against her skin, Jack slides his hand up Blue's thigh until the tips of his fingers brush against the lace edge of her panties. He groans softly and presses his mouth against her breast against. This time, the edges of his teeth graze her nipple through thin fabric.
no subject
She takes a sharp breath at the sharp edge of teeth on skin, almost-pain answered by a distinct coil of heat straight through her.
Blue grins, biting her lip over it, at his groan -- shivering into her almost as much as his mouth and hands. "Mm, I like making you sound like that," she smiles, sliding her free hand into his hair. Jack's fingers tease, query, and aching, she arches up just a little toward them.
no subject
He keeps stopping, keeps asking for permission but, at the end of the day, Jack is seventeen years old and there are things that he wants more than breathing. Biting is, apparently, good. All of this is, so far, apparently good. Blue lifts her hips and Jack takes that as permission to push just a little bit further. His fingers hook over the waistband of her panties and, slowly, gently, giving her plenty of time to stop him, he starts to tug them down.
no subject
Blue's very aware they're --well, outside, not public, sort of beautifully private -- and a little shy about her body, nervous about how this all goes, but she's not shy right now about the fact that she wants this. Wants him.
She wriggles a little to help him, and leans in. "C'mere?" They can't kiss (they can't, they can't) but he settles her, close.
no subject
More than anything, Jack wants to be close to her. He wants to press his mouth against her, kiss parts of her that, maybe, have never been kissed before. However, what he's found is that he's hopeless to resist anything that Blue asks for. He slides up, pressing himself against her side. The height difference isn't as obvious lying down.
"Hi," he says, ducking his head to brush a trio of kisses against the sharp jut of her collarbone.
no subject
"Hi," she says back, a little breathless, and sighs, scraping her teeth over her lip and tipping her head back as he kisses below her throat. Every time he kisses her, somewhere, there's that quiver of danger to it -- what if, what if -- but between Gansey, before, and Jack, she's pretty certain that if she's in no way actually kissing him, it's fair play. (Or it's all bullshit, like Krem theorized.) Which is -- really nice. Seriously unfair, but nice.
"Don't want you to stop," she says, "at all, just --" She reaches up to use her hands for all the kisses she can't give back: trailing a line with her fingers around the shell of his ear, his jaw, softly along the line of his throat. It occurs to her, watching the bend of his neck, that licking and kissing are not the same thing. "Got shy for a minute."
no subject
The trace of her fingers isn't the same as her lips, but it's what he can get, so he doesn't complain, doesn't look for more. He sucks lightly as her skin and then lifts his head.
"I'm not going to stop unless you tell me to," he promises, looking her in the eye when he says it. "But you could...tell me? If you wanted." His cheeks flush and he raises an eyebrow. "I'd do whatever you wanted, Blue."
If she's shy, she might not go for that, but Jack thinks that it might be powerful to have everything handed to her like that.
no subject
Not trust she takes lightly.
She wants his fingers against her, his mouth. But also to roll him on his back, drive him as crazy as he's driving her, right now. She wants to kiss him, some simple lingering kiss that doesn't have to be something else, but that's not on the option list.
"Well, we could start with this coming off," she suggests, tugging at his shirt. "Feels fair."
no subject
Oh, he likes that grin. He likes the implication of it. That lick makes him shiver a little. When she suggests he takes his shirt off, he tugs it over his head immediately, baring skin spangled with brightly coloured ink.
"Whatever you want," he says again. "I mean it."
no subject
She pushes herself up to draw her nails along the lines of water on tattoos that do nothing to disguise strong arms, leave soft bites along his neck, a tease and also a reward. "On your back," she says, soft but firm, against his collarbone. "I want to spend some time on you."
no subject
no subject
Blue chews on her lip a little, thinking, and rolls on top of him to straddle his hips on her knees, silk and denim between them. She swallows, closes her eyes for a moment at the shift: it's obvious to her at least how wet she is, right now. That's its own kind of exciting, though, that he could maybe feel that heat and still have to wait.
She leans down, hands set on his waist, to leave another bite at his collarbone, mimicking the press of his lips to hers earlier. "You're beautiful," she says, a little exhilarated and a little moved, and grins. "Think you can be patient?
no subject
The bite makes his breath catch.
"I can try."
no subject
She draws her fingers up down along his sides, watching his reactions. "What are you thinking?"
no subject
"How beautiful you look."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)