TRACK 6: YOU BEAT ME TO THE PUNCH - MARY WELLS
hi tumblrinas! abhi let me play with their (vintage!) barbies this time. enjoy track six. and thank you endlessly to abhi @scannainscanrula for letting me not only play with your barbies but for your continued support and encouragement, in this fic and all others. what a crazy world it is that dropped us into the same sandbox. my worms like your worms a whole lot, and i'd like to keep playing dolls with you for as long as you'll have me, mo phéist.
part of the BE MY BABY! au bodyguard!jack solomon x reader wc: 4.7k warnings: fingering, spanking, scratching, biting, slapping, marking, piv sex, degradation, name calling, creampie, bdsm role reversal, manhandling, crying/dacryphilia, safeword use (not related to a boundary being crossed but rather physical injury-related pain)
Jack's recent injury has made it difficult to fool around...luckily, he has some ideas to push you out of your comfort zone.
It’s been a week and half, and Jack’s shoulder still isn’t healed. He pulled something in it trying to help you put the Christmas tree away. You’ve been doting on him the entire time, pampering him and cooing over him, even bringing him chicken noodle soup in bed. He laughs at that.
“Honey, I’m not sick,” he chuckles.
“Still,” you pout, setting the hot bowl and saucer on the bedside table next to him. “It’ll help you feel better.”
“Mm, I know what would help me feel better…” he says smugly, reaching behind you to grab your ass.
“Jackkkk, stop,” you whine softly. “The doctor said no ‘excessive physical exertion.’”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say I couldn’t fuck you,” he breathes, his left arm–his good arm, now–wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Standing next to the bed, you’re at just the right height for him to bury his head in your chest. He does.
“Y-yeah,” you agree, your breath catching in your throat as he trails kisses up your neck. This is the longest you’ve gone without being intimate with Jack since you started messing around. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t eating away at you, too. You spent too many afternoons staring at the tendons in his hands, the soft crinkle in his brow as he read the paper, the sculpted planes of his chest as he sat on the couch or in bed wearing nothing but his pajama pants.
“C’mon, honey,” he husks in your ear. “Been so long.”
The feeling of only his left hand on your waist, pulling you in, brings your sense back.
“No, Jackie,” you tell him, a little firmer. “Besides, you can’t–you know…”
“Can’t what?”
Your cheeks heat.
“You can’t…play with me,” you finish sheepishly.
He groans.
“God, I know…I shoulda put you over my fuckin’ knee yesterday, bunny,” he growls. “Being such a tease…”
It was true. You had worn an absolutely tiny pair of tight cotton shorts, and found every excuse to bend over in front of Jack, showing off your ass. You made a big show of toting your notebook around, pretending to scribble lyrics, and kept dropping your pen.
You’d hoped Jack would just bend you over the kitchen counter and hold you down until you cried. Instead, he’d yanked on the waistband of your shorts, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped loudly.
“You think I’m stupid, honey? You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Behave,” he growled in your ear.
You could’ve fainted.
He landed his left hand swiftly on your rear, making you yelp, then shoved you up off of his lap, making you stumble forward. But you still caught the dark look in his eye and the clench in his jaw.
“Wearing those skimpy little outfits, dolly,” he continues. “Like you can’t wait for me to pin you down and rip ‘em off.”
You shiver against him.
“Jack, stop,” you whisper again.
“C’mon, honey…”
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you pout, bringing one hand softly to rest over his right shoulder.
He looks up at you, your soft, sad pout pulling on his heartstrings. He sighs, his eyes passing over your face as he studies you. His breath is quiet and hot in the space between you. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.
“Maybe I can’t play with you, baby,” he mutters, “but why don’t you play with me?”
“W-what?”
“Why don’t you try playing with me, angel? I can show you what to do…y’want to?”
You study his face, your heart thundering in your ears.
“I don’t–I don’t want to hurt you…” you counter timidly.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” he reassures you, taking your hand in his. “I’ll tell you exactly what to do, just like normal, okay? You like that?”
You nod quietly. The idea of Jack telling you what to do makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
“Get up here,” he commands you in a low voice.
You climb up on the bed next to him.
“C’mere,” he nods at you gently. “Up on top, baby.”
“Jaaack,” you whine quietly.
“Just for now, honey. Not gonna do anything yet, we just…” his voice trails off. “Just gotta talk it out first.”
You climb over him so your hips are straddling his. You can feel him getting excited underneath you and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips forward. You know you’ve been pushing it as it is.
“You remember your code word, honey?” he asks you. You nod.
“You know you gotta say it, baby,” he chides you under his breath.
“Romeo,” you sigh, blushing at the charming code word Jack had picked out for you.
“Good girl. Well, I got one too,” he replies, staring at you and swallowing hard. “Juliet.”
You blush harder at that.
“Part of the NATO alphabet,” he explains, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink, then clears his throat.
“Honey, I’m gonna show you what to do, okay?” he continues. There’s a gentleness to his voice, but it’s still a command. You nod again.
“Okay, put your hands on my chest.”
You obey, resting your palms flat on his chest.
“Now drag your nails down, scratch me,” he whispers.
“Jack–”
“It’s okay, honey, you can do it,” he reassures you.
You hesitate, but as always you comply, digging your nails into his skin gently and dragging your hands down his chest.
“Harder–you can do it harder, sweetie.”
You hesitate again before he gives you a little nod. You dig your nails deeper into his skin.
“I’ll tell you if it’s too much, honey, come on,” he coaxes you further.
You dig your nails in deeper, until you’re certain you’ll leave indents in his skin.
“Gah-yeah, yeah, like that, good girl,” he hisses. You watch as the streaks you leave quickly turn angry and pink on his skin.
“Fuck,” he heaves. “Do one more, baby.”
“Jack–”
“Another one, just like that, sweetheart,” he says, his breath coming and going a little faster now. “Y’gotta practice.”
You oblige, starting by digging your nails into his pecs. You drag them down slowly, scratching him again. His chest rises and falls under your fingers. The raised pink marks you leave on his flesh make you shiver. You don’t know how to feel; part of you is still hesitant, afraid to hurt Jack. Another part of you is excited at the idea of covering his entire body in marks that look just like that.
“Is that good?” you squeak.
“Yeah, yeah,” he pants. “So good, honey, good job,” he praises you.
The words light you up from the inside out. You smile down at Jack, buzzing from the feeling of being so close to him. The intimacy of this position, sitting on top of him, the eye contact…it has your head spinning. You want him.
“Good job, sweetie,” he praises you again. “That’s my limit with scratching, okay? That hard. You can do that anywhere that’s not my face. If it’s my face, we gotta talk about it first.”
You nod.
“Okay, honey,” he begins, then softens a bit. “C’mere. Gimme a kiss.”
You lean forward and give him a soft, sweet kiss. You sigh against his mouth contentedly. When you part, you’re almost dizzy with desire.
“Alright sweetie, you ready to try something else?” he asks you softly.
You nod again. You think you’d do anything he told you to do.
He turns his head to the side, pulling the skin on his neck taught. You stare at the vein running down the length of his throat.
“Bite me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Wha-what?” you squeak again.
“C’mon baby,” he encourages you. You can see the blood pounding behind his ear.
“You want me to…bite you?” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You can start gentle, honey, it’s okay.”
You can see the way he’s breathing heavier. He likes this. You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his neck. He shudders, sighing shakily under your touch.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, Jackie,” you whisper against his skin. Your hot breath and the tickling brush of your lips against his throat drives him insane.
“Y’not gonna hurt me, sweetie…that’s why we have the code word,” he puffs. “Just do it, honey, please…”
Something about hearing him use that word makes your whole body hum. You kiss his neck again and this time—gently—you catch his skin between your teeth. He moans, a sound caught low in his throat, at the feeling of you nipping at his skin.
You pull back and look at the wet red mark developing on his neck.
“Was that good?” you ask him quietly, gently brushing the tips of your fingers over the mark. He brings his hand up and your fingers fumble together for a second, dancing over the tiny bite.
“So good, honey, so proud of you,” he pants, his blue eyes meeting yours again. You smile softly down at him, happy to be pleasing him. “You wanna try a little harder?”
The smile slips from your face.
“H-how hard?” you ask apprehensively.
He runs his fingers over his neck, as if he’s looking for something.
“You can…you can leave teeth marks here.”
Your eyes go wide.
“Teeth marks–Jack…”
“I’ll tell you if it’s too much, baby, promise,” he pleads. “Come on, honey…think of it just like a kiss.”
You look at him warily. Watching him, listening to him pant underneath you…it makes you want him so badly. It’s not fair that his stupid injury has been keeping him from manhandling you. You want him, you want him, want him to throw you around, to call you names, want him to boss you around and to praise you…
“Just…just tell me what to do,” you say finally. “And can you…can you be…meaner?” you add in a quiet voice.
Something in his eyes shifts as he looks you up and down.
“Bite me,” he says firmly, the commanding tone in his voice making you smile faintly.
You lean forward and press your lips to his neck, just below the first mark. You kiss him again and suck his skin in between your teeth, biting down harder than last time. He groans. You sit back up, running your fingers over your handiwork. The mark quickly turns a slightly deeper shade of red, and you can see the tiny indents of your teeth along the top and the bottom of the small oval-shaped bite.
“Harder,” he commands. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice level for you, but the half-lidded look in his eyes tells you that he’s working hard to keep his composure.
You lean down towards his collarbone and suck another mark, biting even harder.
“Good, good girl,” he sighs. “On my chest.”
You follow his orders, eager for him to praise you again. You bite down on his right pec, finally finding the force he wants you to use. He hisses sharply when you sink your teeth into his flesh, then throws his head back, a choking sound stumbling out of his throat. You pull back and admire the bite. The deep indent of your teeth lines the red mark. You brush your fingers over the spot, your own saliva slick across your fingertips. You can feel the ridges of your teeth marks, like two little canyons dug into his flesh.
“Good job, honey,” he croons, bringing his own fingers to the bite and turning his head down to get a look. “Oh that’s gonna be fuckin’ purple, tomorrow, goddamn. Gooooood girl.”
You perk up at his words, grinning widely.
“That’s–” Jack gulps in a deep breath of air. “That’s my limit for biting. Anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
“Well,” he chuckles. “Anywhere that’s not, you know, right there…but anywhere else, arms, torso, legs, neck…”
“Jackkkk…” you whine, feeling him getting harder pressed against your thigh.
“Not yet, honey,” he pants.
“We haven’t gotten to play all week…”
“Fuck– longer than that,” he growls, grabbing your jaw in his left hand. He roughly pulls you forward and kisses you. You decide to push your luck. You take his lower lip between your teeth and bite down. He moans obscenely, and you smile as you tug on his skin. He leans back and you release him, softly grinding your hips down over his growing bulge.
“Oh, fuckin’...perfect, bunny,” he hisses. “Doing so good, sweetheart, such a fast learner…you ready for the next one, baby?”
You nod eagerly, finally starting to relax and have fun with the game.
“Alright, this one you’ve done before…”
You already know what he’s going to ask. You shiver slightly, unsure if it’s the chill in the air or the weight of the task before you.
“I’m just gonna show you how far you can go, okay?”
You nod. He gently takes your hand and uses it to cup the side of his face.
“Right here, sweetheart.”
You nod again, and he drops your hand, staring into your eyes. Then, the shift.
“Hit me,” he commands.
You wind your arm up and bring your palm down against the side of his face. You connect with a loud sound that echoes through the silence of the bedroom. His head moves slightly to the side, but not much.
“Harder,” he grits.
You raise your hand again and strike him once more. His left cheek is getting pink from the contact.
“Hit me harder,” he barks.
You sit up slightly on your knees and pull back. Your hand lands on the side of his face with a loud CRACK. His face turns quickly to the side and his jaw drops open.
“A-again,” he heaves, turning back to you.
You hit him like that again. He moans. You can feel him twitch underneath you.
“Again, honey,” he rasps.
You raise your hand and slap Jack again. You can hear his teeth clacking together in his mouth and pull back with a gasp.
“Fu-uuck,” he finally groans through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. “There, right there. That’s my limit for slapping.”
“How much can I…slap you?” you ask softly.
“Until I use the code word,” he tells you, still catching his breath. His cheek is burning red.
“And…where?”
“Everywhere. Everywhere, fuck,” he chuckles. “As long as it’s open palm. If it’s closed fist–”
“Closed fist?!”
He laughs at you again, a gentle, breathless sound coming from the back of his throat.
“You don’t have to do that, honey bunny,” he coos. “You did such a good job already.”
You smile at him, running one hand down his chest, your fingers gently grazing the scratches and bites left in your wake.
“How did that feel, sweetheart?” he asks you lovingly.
“It was…okay,” you answer truthfully. “A little scary at first.”
“That’s why I’m here, I’ll tell you everything to do baby,” he reassures you. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “How mean do you want me to be?”
“As mean as you want,” you sigh dreamily. You sit up in his lap, pushing your tits in his face. He brings his hand to the back of your thigh and pinches you, hard. You yelp in surprise and sit back.
“Behave, bunny, or I’ll show you how mean I can be,” he snaps.
You can feel the excitement buzzing through your body.
“What do you want me to do?” you whisper.
“Take me out,” he commands gruffly.
You eagerly pull down his pajama pants and take out his already stiff cock. You give him a few lazy strokes, making him wince.
You go to unbutton your shorts before he snatches your wrist.
“Oh, you thought you weren’t gonna fuckin’ pay for wearing these little outfits?” he smirks. “You wanna be such a little tease, traipsing around the house in this, I’ll fuck you like you wanted me to, like you were fuckin’ begging me to. Pull ‘em to the side.”
Embarrassed, you reach down and pull the crotch of your soft lounge shorts to the side. He catches a glimpse of your panties—a cute lacy green pair he’d bought for you.
“Aw, look at those,” he snickers.
“Stop–” you say weakly.
“Unless you want them shoved down your throat, shut up,” he snips. You swallow. “Pull ‘em to the side.”
You do, exposing your already wet center to the cold air of the room. Jack brings his left hand down and rubs mean circles over your clit. You squirm above him, blushing hard and trying to look away from him.
“Aww…did you get this wet just from hitting me, princess?” he whispers in a mocking tone.
“Nuh-uh,” you protest. The pressure he has on your sensitive button makes your breath stick in your throat.
“No? That’s not why you’re fucking dripping down my hand right now?”
You squeak and twist your hips in an effort to withdraw, but only succeed in helping Jack rub against you.
“See, I think she got all wet and drooly,” he breathes, “from trying to fight off the creep who’s got his hand down her pants.”
You whine.
“Y-you’re not a cr-creep, Jackie,” you manage to choke out.
He leans up into your ear.
“Play with me, honey,” he rumbles low in his throat, his lips tickling the soft skin on your neck.
You shudder and look down at him. You almost never see him at this angle, so close and right underneath you. Your eyes follow the slope of his neck, and you lean over him until your mouth is right over the soft flesh where his neck meets his shoulder. His left, of course–his non-injured shoulder.
You bite down hard on his skin, hearing him wince in surprise. You can feel his muscles spasming underneath his skin.
“You-you’re such a creep,” you whimper when you let him go, testing out the mean name.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…”
You sit back, Jack’s hand still making you dizzy, and look at him. You trace the line of his jaw with your finger.
“You’re such a…a freak…you like i-it when I h-hit you…” you continue.
“I do, baby,” he hums. His eyes don’t leave you for a second. His pupils are enormous, blown wide with desire. You want more than his fingers. And now you know how to get it.
“God, you are such a pervert!” you scream, bringing your hand down hard on the side of his face. You lean over him, panting, as Jack similarly struggles to catch his breath. You can feel his erection still pressing against your thigh.
“Oh, I’m a pervert now?” he taunts, his chest rising and falling quickly.
You press your palms to his stomach to brace yourself, digging your nails in slightly.
“M-making me h-hit you, just because it makes y-you h-hard,” you continue, doing everything you can to rile him up.
It works.
He pulls his hand away from you, roughly grabbing your face. You can feel your own wetness, still on his fingers, coating your cheeks.
“You’re right, honey…” he moans. “Why don’t you do something about that?”
You reach down and grab him, trying not to betray how eager you really are. He uses his left hand to pull your shorts and panties to the side once more while you line him up.
“Slow, baby,” he warns you. “Go slow.”
You sink down on him slowly, fighting for breath against the feeling of him stretching you. You hold his shoulder, bracing yourself, and don’t even realize that you’re digging your nails in again.
When you’re all the way down, your breath leaves your lungs as you shake. You’ve never taken Jack at this angle before, and you feel like he’s up in your stomach.
“Jack,” you whine.
“Feels good, baby?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble.
You roll your hips forward, feeling his length.
“Ah, fuck, look at her, taking me so well,” he moans.
“You’re such a freak,” you breathe again, eager to keep him frustrated. “You like wh-when I…hurt you…”
“Why don’t you try again and find out, baby,” he challenges.
You slap him again, hard. You know enough now not to pull back until you hear his code word. You bring your hand down on his face again and he moans. You feel his cock twitch inside of you.
“Like that,” you pant, your own desperation teasing you almost as much as Jack is.
“Yeeeahh,” he leers. “If I’m such a creep, honey, why don’t you stop me?”
You hit him again, so abruptly it even startles him.
“Ah-!” he cries, half-moan and half-surprise.
“Y-you’re s-so mean,” you tremble, still shaking. He ruts his hips up as if to prove your point, shoving himself further into your cunt. “You w-won’t even fuck me unless y-you’re making me be bad…”
“S’that make me evil, sweetheart?” he pants. You raise and lower your hips, finally, finally relieved at the feeling of him inside of you.
You rest both hands on his shoulders, holding him tightly as you bounce. He hisses sharply.
“Ow, honey—Juliet—”
You startle and freeze at his use of the code word.
“Oh God, oh my God,” you panic. “Jackie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay, I’m okay…keep going, baby, just—” he winces. “Not that shoulder, okay?” He nods his head toward his injured right shoulder. You’d almost forgotten. You brush your fingers over his shoulder and lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the skin.
“Keep goin’ sweetheart,” he repeats. “Doin’ such a good job, honey, feels so good…”
You shoot another worried glance at his shoulder.
“Come on, honey, where’s my good girl?”
You sigh at his words and start to bounce on him again. You can feel the heat pooling in your tummy as you move your hips. It’s been torture without Jack to grope you, to shove you into the mattress, to call you mean names and make you cry. He made you touch yourself while he watched and told you what to do, but it wasn’t the same.
You dig your nails into his shoulder again—just his left one this time. He hisses and grinds up into you.
“That’s it, honey, there you go,” he grumbles.
“Tell me what to do,” you say weakly. “Wanna make it good, Jack, just wanna be good for you…”
“Give me a good one, right here,” he croaks, turning his head to the side. “Wanna feel you for fuckin’ days, honey.”
You rock forward again and start to suck on his skin. You roughly grind on him, and he balls a fist into your blouse, using it to tug you closer. You bite down on the taught skin of his neck, and Jack snarls.
“Fuck-!”
He snaps his hips up into you, making you cry. You can feel the hot tears spilling from your eyes as Jack matches your rhythm. The delicious full feeling of riding him combined with the overwhelming feeling of being in control, even if it’s only because he let you, has your head in a tailspin. He can feel the hot salty teardrops falling from your eyes onto his skin, where you stilll have your teeth dug into his neck.
“Aww, you cryin’ baby?” he taunts you. “You cryin’ cause I’m just so fucking mean to you?”
You sit back and stare at the bite through your tears. It’s blurry, but you can see the angry dark red color already blooming over his veins. You sniffle and he chuckles darkly.
“Yeah? Dolly’s cryin’ for me?” he sneers.
You bounce on him faster and wind up your arm again. You slap him once more, bringing your hand down over the mark you’ve already made on his cheek.
“Fuck,” he huffs, struggling to catch his breath. “Honey, I’m so close-”
“Be-cause I-I’m hitting you,” you pant, chasing your release. “You perv.”
He moans again. You can feel the warmth in your tummy slowly expanding as you get closer to your own release.
“Y-yeah, sweetie, because you’re h-hitting me,” he stammers. You roughly dig your nails into his chest, leaving tiny half-moons in the already scratched and bitten skin.
You roughly drive your hips down over him a few more times until you’re whining and he’s taking shallow breaths.
“Ho-honey,” he pants. “G-get off, get off, I’m-grrh-God, I’m close—”
“But Jackieee,” you whine. “I want it inside.”
He loses it.
“F-uuckk, it’s all yours babydoll, take it, fuckin’ take it,” he babbles.
You lean down over him and nip at his ear, his collarbone, his chest, running your tongue along the indents you’ve already left in his skin. He feels so good after all this time… you relentlessly ride him, feeling him stretch you deeper as he drives up into you.
“Honey, honey,” he gasps.
You feel him spill inside of you, the hot, warm, full feeling of his cum emptying into your womb almost enough to send you over the edge.
“Good girl, baby, that’s my perfect little doll, takin’ everything so well, so perfect,” he whines, out of breath.
He brings a hand to your hair and roughly tugs. You throw your head back and he brings his lips to your neck. You can feel his teeth scraping your skin and you get goosebumps. You roughly shove him back—making sure to only connect with his left shoulder—and his head hits the headboard with a loud THUMP. You raise your hand one more time, your palm stinging with how many times you’ve already slapped him. You come down again, smacking him hard across the face. His cock jumps inside of you, and you can’t take it anymore.
You’re a crying, panting mess as your orgasm hits you. Tears trickle down your cheeks as you feel the sudden relief of the bowstring inside of you finally snapping. It feels like torture in the most delicious way, cumming on Jack’s cock while he watches you cry.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it, so good,” he coos as you finally start to slow and your thighs tremble over his. “Just come down, honey, relax.”
You let him gently stroke your hair as you nuzzle against his neck, on the side of his good shoulder. Tears are still dripping from your eyes.
“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praises you softly. “Did so well, did everything I told you to do.”
You sniffle against him.
“So proud’a you, honey,” he coos, his voice soothing in your ear.
“I can’t believe I hit you,” you whisper.
“Look at me,” he says firmly, leaning away from you, trying to get you to sit up. “Honey, look at me.”
The change in his voice makes you immediately obedient. You sit up, squirming at the feeling of him still inside of you, and lock eyes with him.
“I’m okay,” he tells you evenly. You try to glance away, almost unable to stomach seeing how red his cheek has become.
“Honey. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he repeats. It’s not quite anger in his voice, but you can tell you’re pushing it. You look back at him.
Jack bites his lip as another tear runs down your cheek. He gently swipes it away with his thumb, his touch soft and warm against your skin.
“Look at me. Look at everything you did to me,” he commands you gently. You scan him up and down, from his scratched and bruised chest to the teeth marks in his neck to the red imprint of your hand on the side of his face.
“Look at all of this,” he says in a low voice. “And I’m okay.”
You meet his eyes again and blink away more tears.
“Can— can I have a kiss?” you whisper weakly.
He grins.
“Thought you were supposed to be playing with me, babydoll,” he replies smugly. That makes you giggle.
You lean forward and kiss him, soft and slow and deep. It’s him. It’s Jack. You sigh against him and he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you tighter.
“You want me to run us a shower, sweetheart?” he whispers when you part, your forehead still pressed against his.
“In a minute,” you counter.
You trace your fingertips up and down his arms, across his chest, around his neck, feeling every mark, every brand that you’ve left on him. All the ways you’ve carved mine into his skin.
“Just wanna stay like this for a minute, Jackie,” you sigh in a dreamy haze.
“Whatever you want, honey,” he hums, stroking your back and your hair gently. “Whatever you want.”
thank you for reading! read the full be my baby series here. please reblog if you like what you read; it keeps writers engaged in fandom spaces and creating cool shit for you!