Deckard Shaw (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
about2knowme) wrote2016-10-12 10:02 pm
about2knowme) wrote2016-10-12 10:02 pm
Hurt/Comfort [for ammapreaker]
Well, that was not the best day I've ever had, Deckard Shaw thought as he half-stumbled through the door of his London apartment-- at least, the one he was renting for the time being.
Fucking Hobbs and his team had nearly got him four hours ago. He'd led the man and his team on the usual merry chase through the city, and had nearly gotten away without a scratch until Hobbs had rammed his car into a goddamn wall. They'd traded punches for a while until a lucky break in the shape of his gas tank exploding gave him a chance to get away and find one of the under-the-table doctors he knew of to patch him up.
Deckard winced as he slowly shrugged his way out of his leather jacket, his body screaming in protest at the movement. With the garment off, it was much easier to see the way his shirt had been cut away in order to bandage some kind of wound on his upper right arm. The rest of the shirt was dirty and streaked with sweat and blood, some of it his. Even his face was smudged, and he smelled faintly of smoke and gasoline. Gingerly, he pushed off his boots, and slowly made his way toward the couch.
"Amma? Sweetheart?" he called out into the apartment, trying to keep his voice from betraying the pain he was feeling, but it was a pretty stupid move, since the girl would see what kind of shape he was in once she came out of her room.
Fucking Hobbs and his team had nearly got him four hours ago. He'd led the man and his team on the usual merry chase through the city, and had nearly gotten away without a scratch until Hobbs had rammed his car into a goddamn wall. They'd traded punches for a while until a lucky break in the shape of his gas tank exploding gave him a chance to get away and find one of the under-the-table doctors he knew of to patch him up.
Deckard winced as he slowly shrugged his way out of his leather jacket, his body screaming in protest at the movement. With the garment off, it was much easier to see the way his shirt had been cut away in order to bandage some kind of wound on his upper right arm. The rest of the shirt was dirty and streaked with sweat and blood, some of it his. Even his face was smudged, and he smelled faintly of smoke and gasoline. Gingerly, he pushed off his boots, and slowly made his way toward the couch.
"Amma? Sweetheart?" he called out into the apartment, trying to keep his voice from betraying the pain he was feeling, but it was a pretty stupid move, since the girl would see what kind of shape he was in once she came out of her room.
no subject
His little girl really was a marvel. Needy and naive on one hand, feral and possessive on the other. And always, always a smouldering ember of sexual heat just waiting to be fanned into a flame. Deckard counted himself a very lucky man indeed to have Amma.
And he was about to have her some more. He leaned back while he watched the now naked teenager clamber into position until she could leave her pussy hovering just above his mouth.
"I believe I will," Deckard drawled, then tilted his head to bring his tongue into contact with her slit. He lapped at her tiny sex with the flat of his tongue, warming her up after all the cooling water.
no subject
Amma smiled as he dove right on into eating her out. Her hands went to his sleek shaven head, allowing her better ability to pretty herself against him as she felt that tongue start to hit the right spots.
"Mmmm- daddy-" she purred, a thin and slender leg bending and curling around his neck to keep her steady. Her hips would move with his mouth, soon to grind against his tongue if he didn't take the lead away from her.
no subject
The older man chuckled as he felt Amma's small, surprisingly strong hands clutch at his head while he dove into her tender pussy. For the moment, he didn't restrict her movements, instead enjoying the way she rolled her hips, trying to grind her little cunt against his mouth. All the easier to run his tongue over her close folds and to push it up into her entrance.
He gave a muffled groan of pleasure as he ate the girl out, an act he thoroughly enjoyed ever time he did it. One of Deckard's hands moved up onto Amma's small, tight ass cheeks to make sure she had enough support in case his efforts made it hard for her to stay balanced. The other snaked under until he could slip a finger into her tight entrance.