A/N: I should clarify that none of these take place in the same continuity. This whole series is devoted to miscellaneous, M-rated drabbles (and occasional one-shots), but they are not related unless stated otherwise.
Jonesy made her laugh, and not in the ordinary sense. This kind of laughter featured unrestrained snorting, tight ribs, and burning face muscles. Few people could coax a grin from her, let alone such a fit—yet he remained a special case. After she caught her breath and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, a smile remained as the evidence of her mirth.
Then, in a wistful tone, she said, "Damn, I really missed you."
He grinned, likely because she said it first. (Either way, his warm, dopey expression made her heart flutter.) "I missed you too, baby. You have no idea."
Though their first semester of university had passed them by, leaving them on winter break, a long time passed for this moment to arrive. She ached to see him while away at Banting, but their schedules remained relentless. Then, a golden opportunity presented itself: Her parents told her that—as long as she visited them once in that icy hellhole known as Iqaluit during her break—she could stay with the Masterson-Garcias back in beloved Toronto.
From the moment Nikki informed Jen, she had planned everything: what shows they would catch up on, what museums they would go to, and (most importantly) what DawgToy solo album they would listen to first. Though it could be excessive at times, Nikki admired Jen's intense dedication to detail, especially in regards to their friendship. Jen showed that Nikki remained special to her, even after all these years. However, she knew when to give Nikki space, something Nikki appreciated since a third of her free time acted as "Jonesmeister time." (He used such an atrocious phrase, not her.)
Now that she and Jonesy inhabited the same space, it reminded her why she stuck with him despite the distance: he was worth it. They clicked in indescribable ways.
"Trust me—I think I have an idea," she replied as she reached out and touched his hand.
"Am I that easy to read?"
"You've never been anything but an open book, Garcia. I'm just interpreting what's written all over your face."
"Smooth."
"Unlike your stubble." She chuckled and ran her hand over his prickly chin, intrigued by the friction against the pads of her fingertips.
He leaned over and stole a brief kiss from her lips, then asked, "How'd that feel?"
"Stubbly."
"Okay, okay, I'll shave later."
"Do what you want with it, but, personally, I don't mind. Even if it'll give me a little beard burn, it's kind of… endearing."
He wagged his brows at her. "Well, then the stubble's gonna hang around for a while."
She rolled her eyes, then grinned. "Okay. So, now that that's settled, what do you want to do right now? Should we keep talking… or should we be up to no good?"
He resembled an imp. "We're always at our best when we're up to something,"—his expression softened—"but I wanna try something different."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Like"—he looked around his room—"building a pillow fort."
She snorted. "So you want to go back to being five?"
"I'm nostalgic, babe. I mean, you heard the shit we were talking about earlier: papers and projects and deadlines and applications and shit. I wanna do something that reminds me of when shit was simpler—when the only thing I gave a fuck about was naptime and coloring outside the lines."
"Okay, you've got a point."
"So… you down?"
She looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes. Perhaps indulging her inner child wouldn't be so bad. Besides, she worked hard for her 3.6 GPA. She earned the right to be juvenile. "I'm down."
"Sweet." He pressed a brief kiss against her lips before standing up.
She followed suit, watching as he grabbed a couple pillows from his bed and tossed them into a pile on the floor.
"Alright, so we've got these, but we're gonna need some more."
"And we also need a base. Can't build a fort without a foundation," she reminded, painting the larger picture for him like she normally did.
"True," he said, looking across his room in curiosity. Next to his television and large window sat his desk, so he walked over, grabbing its chair and bringing it in front of his bed. "Okay, so we got a chair for the base, but we need another, and I know my bean bag's not gonna hold up. I say we steal the one from Jen's room. I was gonna steal her pillows anyways."
"Okay, then let's go."
She led the way out of his bedroom, walking across the hall and turning the knob to her best friend's bedroom. Jonesy's footsteps trailed behind her.
Until the evening, the house remained empty. Today was a weekday, meaning Robbie and Diego were at school. (Both of them had complained nonstop about their older siblings having a whole month for winter break while they only got two weeks. Jonesy had lovingly told them, "Oh, well. Suck it up.") Their parents worked. Little Emma stayed at daycare. Courtney spent the day with one of her sugar daddies. On the other hand, Nikki wouldn't start working her seasonal job at the Khaki Barn until next week. Jonesy remained woefully unemployed. Meanwhile, Jen had left for the Penalty Box hours ago, working as a seasonal employee for the entirety of winter break—giving the couple an excuse to sneak into her room undetected.
Jonesy squeezed her Nikki's behind as they walked in.
"Does that look like a pillow to you?" she asked, turning around to face him.
"Nah. It just looked like somewhere nice to put my hands."
She snorted as he maneuvered to Jen's desk.
"You grab the pillows; I'll grab the chair," he instructed.
"Got it."
While he retrieved the desk chair, Nikki grabbed as many pillows as she could carry.
"Go, go, go!" her boyfriend exclaimed. They both hurried into the hallway once more.
Upon making it back into his room, they both laughed like mad and set their items down. Jonesy placed the chair from Jen's desk across from his own chair, then draped his blanket over the seats like a makeshift roof.
She looked at his bed, catching sight of something amusing. "Not including your teddy bear?"
He leaned over and covered the stuffed toy's ears. "Sir Stuffington has a name, Nikki."
"Wow, how could I be so rude?"
The two of them arranged the pillows how they wanted them, adjusting them to their comfort.
Satisfied with their efforts, she sat on the floor and reclined inside their fort.
She looked up and smirked. "It's a little cramped for my liking,"—her eyes drifted to her boyfriend's rear as he walked to his laptop—"but at least it comes with a view."
He didn't reply. Instead, soft R&B played from his tinny speakers.
She raised her pierced eyebrow. She studied him as he walked to the other side of the room, watching the fluorescent lights go out as he switched them off. The afternoon sun illuminated the room instead.
"Jones, what are you up to?" she asked (although she could assess his angle).
He sank to the floor, crawling into her space. "Well, we spent all this time talking and making our little fort." His gaze flickered between her eyes and her mouth. "I just wanted to put it to good use."
She watched him lick his lips. Heat scorched her cheeks. "I guess now's the part where we're up to no good, huh?"
"Uh huh."
He climbed on top of her and bridged the gap between them.
Their lips met over and over again, each kiss more fervent than the last. Her tongue slipped betwixt his lips, ghosting his own. He felt familiar. He felt like home.
No matter where she went, her hometown boy awaited her return. She reciprocated the feeling. She longed to see him, too. She missed how their bodies met just as much as she missed how they clicked.
He moaned, low and husky.
Even if his stubble scratched her face, she didn't care when he reacted like that.
She wrapped her legs around him and slowly rolled her hips. He followed suit.
Their kisses grew messy. Their bodies grew impatient.
She parted from him to take off her t-shirt, exposing her bare chest while he stripped himself of his own shirt.
He pounced on her again. He didn't hesitate to place his tongue on the swell of her bosom. Her whimpers floated through the air as he swirled it around and around and around. Her eyelids fluttered as she gazed aimlessly at the grey blanket above them.
She cooed his name.
"Yeah?" he coyly replied, flashing her a smirk that made something else flutter.
She clutched his head and curved her back, allowing him to draw her further into his slick mouth. While his mouth moved, his thumb rubbed her other nipple.
He flooded her neurons with sensation. A lake emerged between her legs.
Every motion made her body simmer. His licks and sucks grew slower.
And slower.
And slower.
Torture through pleasure.
Finally, he let up, focused on removing her pants. She slowly raised her waist, letting him pull her pajama pants down and toss them aside.
She watched as he stood up and got rid of his own pajama pants, promptly getting back on the floor and crawling on top of her again.
She had longed to feel his balmy, brown skin press against her again. Now she got to revel in it.
As they made out, his hand toyed with her pantyline before ghosting somewhere special. She quivered.
"You like that?" he asked. His voice stayed low like his moans.
"Yeah," she rasped.
He rubbed against her more deliberately this time. "How 'bout that?"
"Uh huh."
He dipped his hand behind her sapphire panties, swirling his fingertips in circular motions, beckoning her focus and her hips to follow.
"Fuck," she said, looking him through half-lidded eyes.
He gave her a cheeky grin.
"You— You like fucking with me, don't you?"
"Love it. I'd make it my job, if I could."
"Oh— Of course you would."
He chuckled, then left the fort for his nightstand. She used this moment to take off her underwear.
When he came back with a condom, he looked her up and down before saying, "Shit, you're beautiful."
"Stop." He never failed to make her flush. Being honest with herself, she never learned how to take a compliment, even after all this time. "I've been naked around you a million times."
"So? You still turn me all the way on, baby."
Her eyes flickered over his waist. "Evidently," she replied, hoping to deflect the attention towards him.
His boxers littered the floor with the rest of their clothes. He settled his weight atop her. They both moaned upon his entry. Finally, after a long, dry semester, her needs would be met.
They fell right back into their usual motions. Their hips gyrated slowly. He buried his face in the side of her neck, exhaling warm air against it before kissing it. She let out a breathy laugh and wove her fingers through his hair.
Though they'd had sex on his bedroom floor before, she didn't derive pleasure from it. The abrasive carpet left her skin red and tender after their tryst. Thus, she welcomed this pillow haven they created. The pillow beneath her back caused it to arch, pressing her chest against his.
It took them a long time to get this good. She first slept with him days before leaving for Nunavut. She couldn't compare the feeling of sex to anything else. If she had to describe their first time in a few words, she would choose awkward, bumbling, and endearing. She had never bared it all before, but she had decided that she would rather do it with him than just anyone.
Nothing changed except for getting a bit older.
He gripped one of her calves and gently pushed her leg back, coaxing himself deeper.
"Like that?" he asked.
She whimpered in approval, revelling in how he felt on and in her skin. She loved connecting with him like this.
They kept it soft and slow, the way she wanted it for the time being. They had a habit of going too fast too often and burning up. Thus, she shut her eyes, savoring every second of him. She reveled in a slow burn.
Pleasured nonsense poured from her mouth as he moved. He grunted and groaned atop her.
"Hey," he said with shallow breath, causing her to open her eyes and find him gazing at her. "Love you."
"Love you too." She smiled. "Now make out with me, stupid."
"Oh, hell yeah."
He let go of her calf in favor of kissing her like she wanted. He slid his tongue into her mouth, making her moan into him. She practically melted into the pillows beneath them…
Her pale face burned. Her heart thumped against her chest. Her lips curled into a grin. Her fingers aimlessly ran through his hair.
His breath rushed in and out of her ear. A satisfied groan spilled from his mouth. He brushed his lips against the crook of her neck.
Their bodies lay still. Tranquility washed over them.
He softly stirred before getting up and walking to his trash can. She could tell he didn't want to leave the comfort of her thighs, but—then again—wearing a used condom made the experience less enjoyable. Besides, he returned before she knew it.
"Oh, that was so good," she said to him as she stroked his back. "Mmm, afternoon dick just makes a girl feel special."
He propped himself up to pout at her. "Oh, I see how it is. I'm just dick to you, huh?"
"Duh. I thought you knew already."
"I didn't. But, now that I do, I guess I should leave."
As he sat upright, faking like he would go, she interjected, "Wait."
He sat still and awaited her next words.
"Before you head out, mind making me come again? 'Cause that felt really nice."
"Pillow princess," he deadpanned with an amused look.
"That's pillow queen to you, fort jester." She grinned, but it faded quickly. She replaced it with a sultry look. "Besides, don't you wanna satisfy me?"
His smile made her melt as he replied, "All the time."
"In that case…" She crawled towards him in a feline manner and rested her upper body across his lap. "I've got an ass and a clit with your name on it. Think you can handle that?"
"Trust me—by the time I'm done, you won't want anyone to handle you but me," he flirted as he rubbed her rear.
"Show me."
He palmed her skin and sent her flying.
Oh, she got what she desired a few times over. He ended the drought she'd endured all semester long, though they ruined some pillows in the process. Fuck it—he was worth it.