Multi-Fandom Month of Masturbation Fics

Request #1: SPN! SPN!! WINCHESTER LOVE.

The visions started a month ago and Sam woke up humping his mattress every morning.

Most days he managed to get in the bathroom before Dean was awake enough to notice, or Dean was first in the bathroom, jerking off himself, and Sam raced to finish before Dean came back out.

But yesterday… Sam jerked off fast and sloppy in the bathroom with Dean banging on the door and Sam came so hard his knees buckled and he toppled over. One knee smashed against the toilet and it still ached, almost as hard as his dick now, and he couldn’t stifle a moan as he rolled over and tried to get out of bed.

And Dean was watching him with an irritated frown. “Jesus, Sammy.” He rolled off his bed and crouched between Sam’s legs. One hot palm slid over Sam’s calf as Dean twisted his leg around, testing the knee. “You do this last night? You said it didn’t hurt you.”

Despite the tightness, it didn’t hurt as bad as it looked; a dark ugly bruise the size of a fist covered a swollen lump under the kneecap. But Dean didn’t know pain wasn’t the reason Sam gasped. Dean’s other hand pressed into his thigh, still intent on checking the injury and Sam barely stifled another moan.

He was hard and Dean was right there.

Sam clenched his fists on the butt-ugly paisley bedspread.

Oh, fuck.

“Dean--” he tried to push him away, he wasn’t ready for this—“Dean, it’s fine.”

But Dean ignored his swatting hands and now both of Dean’s hands were sliding up his thighs, firm determined pressure holding Sam still. And Dean was staring at his crotch, at the gap in his boxers that Sam could feel exposing him.

Dean licked his lips once before clearing his throat and jerking up off the floor. “I’ll get some ice.”

Sam blinked and Dean was gone. The door shut behind him and the thought, he forgot his key, flashed through Sam’s head as he fell back on the bed and stuck his hand in his shorts.

Images from his dreams—

Dean on his knees

An even uglier pink print bedspread under his ass

Dean sucking him --

Another couple strokes and he came, hot streaks splattering his fist and belly. He wiped himself off and took a couple of deep breaths before Dean started pounding on the door.

Sam limped over to let him, his knee loosening up more as he moved, but the knot in his gut was still coiled tight. Tighter than before.

It would happen. Soon.

Request #2: Due South, Fraser/RayK

Fraser poked his head in the flap of the tent and his question was lost when he saw Ray lying back on the furs and stroking himself.

“Come on in, Frase, it’s plenty warm here.”

Fraser tugged at his collar. “Indeed. Um, Ray?” He crawled inside and started peeling off the layers of clothes. “Am I correct in assuming that this tent in our living room is an attempt to re-enact a particular, ah, event during our adventure?”

Ray grinned. “Yeah, but better without the wind and hypothermia. And clothes. I hate when you’re wearing clothes, Fraser.” Ray’s tone was chastising and Fraser forced his fingers to move faster despite the lack of grace that plagued him whenever Ray was naked.

Ray continued to stroke himself and Fraser finally had his pants off before bending to kiss Ray’s knee. He licked a wide path up his thigh to the furred sack.

Ray’s fingers pushed into his hair and started an affectionate scalp massage that made Fraser hum with pleasure. Ray was very adept at multi-tasking when he wished. Fraser kissed Ray’s belly and propped himself on his elbow to watch.

“Happy Anniversary, Frase.” Ray’s eyes were bright.

“Thank you kindly, Ray.”

Request #3: SG-1, Daniel thinking about Jack

Jack didn’t visit often enough for any of their liking so Daniel didn’t begrudge Sam and Teal’c a little more time with him. Really.

Teal’c however left when Daniel begged off another beer and pleaded an early meeting to head to bed. Daniel was half-hard all night with his leg bumping against Jack’s on the sofa, and his hopeful erection grew a little more as he stripped and climbed into bed. Sam drove Teal’c so--

But he only heard Teal’c leave and his interest would’ve flagged considerably knowing Sam was alone with Jack, if he wasn’t already stroking himself stubbornly.

Daniel listened to Jack’s rumbling laugh in the other room and he willed himself to relax and just enjoy a little more anticipation. He used the lube under the pillow to slick his fingers and he played with his ass, doing as much prep as he could before Jack joined him. He was close to coming just thinking about Jack finally touching him again, and he focused on that. Light strokes up and down. Holding off until he could come in Jack’s mouth and then roll over and get fucked.

Daniel heard footsteps in the hall and wiggled himself around so he was turned just right. One knee was tucked tight to his chest so when Jack opened the door he would see Daniel’s exposed ass and the hard dick in his hand.

More footsteps and Sam was giggling. She followed Jack to the guestroom. There was a thump against the wall and Daniel froze. His heart was still thumping in his chest, but his dick deflated.

More low voices and shuffling feet and then finally, the front door slammed.

Daniel tossed the lube on the nightstand and rolled to the middle of his bed. It was a habit he developed again after sleeping alone for so long. He’d just adjusted his pillow and closed his eyes when the door opened.

Jack quickly undressed and Daniel realized he was holding his breath as Jack pushed him over to his usual side when they were together. Jack smelled like the subtle perfume Sam wore on social occasions and his lips were slick with fruity chapstick when he brushed Daniel’s cheek. “Hey,” Jack whispered.

“Hey,” Daniel returned, his breath rushing out in relief when Jack spooned warm and naked behind him. His dick was as soft and uninterested as Daniel’s now. If Jack had gotten in bed with a hard-on from making out with Sam— “Everything okay?”

“She’s a little drunk,” Jack shrugged, rubbing Daniel’s shoulder and down his arm. “I called her a cab.”

“Jack--”

“I know.” Jack kissed the back of his neck, rubbing the waxy residue off his lips before he dared to kiss Daniel. It spoke volumes that he didn’t waste time to go brush his teeth either, testifying he had nothing to hide. Daniel caught Jack’s hand and kissed it before letting it continue. “I’ll talk to her.” Jack’s hand drifted lower. “Tomorrow.”

Request #4: Rodney/Teyla for a change

The grace of the fertility dance was the last thing on his mind, but Teyla’s fingers were warm and comforting and it was the littlest things that kept him sane since their capture by the Benee.

And then she was gone, twirling for them, and one goon’s hand was up her skirt for a brief moment before she twisted away and rubbed her cheek against his friend’s shoulder. She was gone again before he could get a tangled grip on her wet hair.

Luckily there were only six of them, so far, because they hadn’t made it back to the village yet. When they’d been ambushed, Ronan and John were taken out by surprise and Rodney wasn’t much of a threat when he’d simply thrown down his gun and watched them catch and paw Teyla.

He offered to let them take her if they let him go.

They laughed at the coward, trying to hide behind the dying as the grass turned darker around their swaying bodies. John fell first, eyes blinking back rain drops before they closed. Rodney used Ronan as a shield because he was bigger, stronger, but they didn’t shoot Rodney.

“I’m coming for her,” Ronan growled before he fell.

Rodney was the entertainment and Teyla was the Shasira, Fertility Goddess, and they started the long journey.

Jesus, how fertile did they need to be? Rodney’s knees sunk further into the sucking mud as the dance continued. He was pretty sure he had fungus growing everywhere from being wet for the last three days.

But if they believed Teyla brought the rain and if it was what kept them in line, then they could keep poking Rodney during the day and groping Teyla during the night.

As long as it kept raining, they didn’t dare rape her outright her for fear the drought would return.

When the Neanderthals finally passed out that night, Teyla curled up beside him and he wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm as the cold seeped back into her bones after the dance. The workout and then sudden inactivity seemed to make the nights worse for her.

“Soon, Rodney. He will come for us and you must be ready,” she whispered.

He nodded in agreement every time so she would keep believing it a little longer. Neither of them wanted to think about what would happen in the village.

She pressed closer. “Rodney,” she breathed against his ear. Mourning with him. It was impossible to not wince when the wet cloth grated over his skin, but she was gentle when she cupped his soft dick and coaxed some feeling back into him.

She was always slick between her legs after dancing, wishing for Ronan, and it made her convincing, kept her alive. Rodney returned the favor she was giving him and ran his thumb over her clit and she turned her mouth into his neck to keep from sobbing out loud.

Her hand moved with his and he pushed his fingers into her, imagining John tight around him and the grip on his dick changed, became almost similar enough that the phantom pleasure turned to pain. He knew John would never touch him like that again and he cried on her shoulder when he came.

***

It was nearing dusk when the rain started to sputter and scale back to a light drizzle. Teyla’s hand squeezed his elbow. If it quit raining, they wouldn’t just ogle her tonight.

Rodney was ridiculously grateful they hadn’t reached the village yet and he forced himself not to draw the knife he’d taken from Ronan.

They would kill him, so he had to take one of their captors with him to improve her odds. She could outrun and outsmart them if she had a worthwhile diversion.

“Did you see?” she hissed, her eyes flicking to the right.

He counted two beats and looked quickly. There was a flash of movement in the trees and he wondered what animal moved that fast. They hadn’t seen anything else living since they got there.

Then. "Ronan," they breathed together.

The gunfire came from their left and the two Benee on point went down. Teyla took out the man beside her, the fool trying to touch her breast at that inopportune moment, and Rodney ignored the bastard that had gotten the most glee out of pushing his face in the mud for sport. Ronan was already on top of him and smashing his head together with the fifth man on their six. That only left—

Rodney stabbed the fucker in the throat for killing John.

***

“I am fine,” Teyla insisted, and Rodney was pretty sure Ronan would’ve picked her up and carried her back to the gate if he didn’t still look like he should be on a stretcher.

Rodney had already dropped the knife, hoping Ronan would just make it quick when he found out Rodney was the only one who had really touched Teyla.

Teyla smiled at Rodney as they entered the cloaked jumper waiting to take them home and she whispered something in Ronan’s ear that made his fists finally unclench. They huddled together on the bench and Rodney sank to the floor across from them. Something inside Rodney relaxed a fraction too and he closed his eyes as they lifted off the ground, letting himself imagine for a second that John was flying.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and Rodney felt angry tears stinging behind his eyes. He grunted, “fuck off,” before dropping his head to his knees.

“Take it easy, Doc,” Lorne drawled, squeezing his shoulder and Rodney’s head flew up with a withering glare.

Lorne looked sympathetic for a moment and then thrust a power bar at him. “Sheppard said these are your favorite.” He grinned then and called to the pilot, “Lieutenant, radio Atlantis and tell the Colonel we’re coming home.”

Request #5: tony/gibbs

Tony still couldn’t get over how good he felt. The glare of a setting sun in his eyes, gritty sand between his toes, and the grind of Gibbs’ dick up his ass.

Jesus, he loved Mexico.

“You like that?” Gibbs asked, the smell of Cuervo and lime wafting from his mouth.

Tony’s fists were clenched on the porch railing and he could feel crackling paint peel off under his palms when Gibbs nailed that sweet spot again and again. “Yeah, Boss,” Tony groaned. Gibbs’ little shack was just that. A crappy shack. But he could see why Gibbs wouldn’t go back because--

“I’m not your boss anymore.”

God, he was an asshole because he didn’t want Gibbs back if they could do this.

Sorry, guys, he thought.

Abby was going to kill him.

“Come for me, Tony.” Gibbs licked his ear. “Come on so I can bend you over this railing.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement, but that did it. Tony couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t avoid his dick, and he started jerking off like his life depended on it. It only took a few moments and he was still shaking and coming when he fell onto his elbows and spread his feet a little wider for Gibbs to banish any other thoughts but good.

Request #6: Any SGA pairing

Atlantis had a way of changing your world view.

An understatement, he knew, but until you’d been there a while you didn’t quite get it. He still didn’t get it, but he accepted it because after everything else? This was easy. He’d always liked girls with wild hair and lots of smarts and foreign chicks really buttered his muffin. So if he was suddenly in a supply closet jerking off because of a funny looking Czech scientist—

“Major?” Radek called to him over the radio, with that tone, because Lorne was ten minutes late.

Lorne groaned, coming in his fist.

Request #7: CSI, Nick wanking coz Greg likes to watch

Greg pried his eyes open when he heard the shower start. They burned from lack of sleep and he rubbed them mercilessly before glaring at the open bathroom door.

Where Nick was jerking off in the shower.

Nick was watching Greg watch him and he smiled, soaping his balls with the other hand.

Greg groaned. “Fucker,” he muttered, and Nick couldn’t hear him, but he smiled wider before turning under the spray.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Nick said when Greg joined him.

“It’s getting there,” Greg replied, taking Nick in his mouth.

Nick’s hand slapped the wet tile. “Jesus, Greggo,” he hissed. He pushed Greg’s wet hair from his eyes and adjusted the shower spray so it was running hot and enticing over Greg’s ass. Fuck.

Yeah, he’d like to, but they didn’t have time, so Greg held up his hand and snapped his fingers impatiently until Nick slapped the bar of soap in his palm. Greg lathered up his fist and started jerking off. Nick’s dick in his mouth always made him hard enough to pound nails.

“Oh, man, don’t come.” Nick’s fingers dug into Greg’s shoulders as he got closer. “I want to watch.” His breath was getting ragged as he tried not to blatantly fuck Greg’s throat. “I’m going to put my fingers in your ass and make you beg,” Nick groaned.

Greg pulled off Nick’s dick and smiled up at him. “Good idea.” He nudged Nick’s legs apart so one foot was up on the edge of the tub. He circled a soapy finger around Nick’s hole and prodded, “Come on, finish the show.”

Nick blinked water from his eyes and his mouth hung slack as he started jerking off and Greg couldn’t stop himself from starting up again either. He leaned back, far enough for Nick to see. One finger slid into Nick’s hole, then another, and Nick clenched tight and hot around him as he came.

Greg came when Nick’s semen splattered his neck and chest.

Request #8: McShep, Rodney's POV

Everyone knew that Ronan and Teyla were fucking, but obviously no one knew that Rodney and John were fucking… except Teyla.

Rodney jerked awake from the vivid dream, memories of the night on PX-981 when they’d ALL slept together during a drug-induced orgy for their host’s entertainment. It was still mostly a blur and Rodney worked hard to bury it when he was working with Teyla and Ronan…and John.

“Fuck, Teyla,” he muttered, achingly hard and stumbling to the bathroom to jerk off instead of waking John.

But the lack of blood to his brain made him forget that if he twitched in the night John was awake. John was right behind him, pushing Rodney against the wall, one arm pressed against Rodney’s throat in a friendly warning to not fight. “What is going on with you?” he growled.

“Oh, god,” Rodney closed his eyes, not knowing where to begin.

But John did, and he jerked Rodney’s shorts down before squeezing his dick. “You were dreaming again.” A vicious twist of his wrist made Rodney whimper. “About Teyla.”

“No!” Rodney was not going to do anything embarrassing like beg, but he had to make John understand. “Please, I—I just remembered—it didn’t mean anything, but, John.” Rodney grasped at John’s hips, wanting something to hold onto. Trying to keep John from leaving. “She knows. About us.”

John’s eyes widened, but he relaxed and Rodney didn’t understand-- “It’s okay, Rodney. Teyla’s… Teyla.” John hugged him and nuzzled his neck. “Okay? Now tell me. What did we do?” He nipped Rodney’s ear. “What do you remember?”

“Okay?” Rodney gasped. “How can it be okay?”

“Rodney,” John’s hand was on him again, hot and insistent. “Tell me.”

“Oh, my god, are you—is this turning you on now?” Rodney groaned, just because it had to be said. He wasn’t the pervert here.

”Rodney."

“I was fucking her, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” Rodney blurted. “And Ronan was—was behind her. You know,” he swallowed thickly, remembering Ronan’s hard thrusts and how tight everything was inside there. But even then, it wasn’t John and he was too high to get off. “And she was sucking you. You liked it,” Rodney accused, feeling a little betrayed that John didn’t have the same problem.

“Yeah, I could hear you and just closed my eyes. I remember that.” John’s hand started moving faster. “I was listening to you make those noises in your throat. That’s when I know you’re ready for me.”

Oh. Fuck. Rodney was so close to coming then, but John stopped. He grabbed Rodney’s ass and tugged one leg up off the floor so it was wrapped around John’s hip.

“Oh god,” Rodney moaned. His head hit the wall when John’s spit slick finger rubbed over his hole. “But—but I didn’t come. I didn’t want her,” Rodney whined. He started jerking off then, desperate to come and he didn’t care if all John could do was hump his leg. If he stopped fingering his ass Rodney would kill him. John owed him.

“I didn’t come until she kissed me,” Rodney whimpered. “And I could taste you. She knew I--fuck--I need you,” Rodney panted, coming hard enough to see spots.

They bloomed bright red when John bit his shoulder and came too.

Return to Shannon Marie's