Smut where the missus and Harry have slow morning, quiet, intense in the
bed sex when Anne and Robin, and Gemma are staying in the 2 spare rooms
downstairs in Harry’s new LA pad, as the master is on the top floor and
the missus has to bite and moan into his new and shoulder to keep
quiet. Sex in missionary and girl lying down on her front with Harry
covering from behind?
So…I’ve been reading over this request for weeks trying to picture the position and also how it would be possible for her to bite his shoulder and…I don’t think this is actually possible so I’m going to tweak things a bit, but I’ll try and keep things similar for you. :)
Harry has been very, very patient.
His parents and sister have been visiting the two of you in LA for the past week now and the number of times the two of you have had sex during that week was extraordinarily minimal. Every time Harry tries to initiate it, you shut him down because you can’t stand the thought of doing anything, knowing that his mother is only one floor below you.
“She knows we have sex,” he moans, “She’s probably expectin’ us to!”
That knowledge doesn’t make it any better and, in fact, makes you even less inclined to give in. Still, you’re starting to get a bit antsy as well. You and Harry typically don’t go very long without having some form of sex, and each morning that you wake up with Harry spooning you, it gets harder and harder to roll away without trying to get him excited.
This particular morning, you wake up feeling something poking into your bum. Only one second of clearing the fog from your brain, and you know it’s not his knee. It’s not uncommon for Harry to wake up with morning wood but, typically, the two of you would take care of it without giving it a second thought. Morning sex was one of your favorites and you encouraged that as often as Harry would allow, which was pretty much anytime you asked.
You groan and roll over on to your back. Harry is still asleep beside you, but begins to stir when he feels you move.
Something in your mind finally snaps. You’re looking at the tent that has formed in Harry’s boxers and you simply can’t take it anymore. You roll onto your other side so you’re facing him and reach down to cup his bulge. It takes a few seconds, but Harry’s face scrunches up and he slowly opens his eyes just at the moment when your hand slips inside his boxers and grabs on to his cock.
“What’re you doin’?” he asked, groggily.
“I need you,” you whine, “I know your mum is downstairs, but I can’t take it anymore.”
Harry smirks and lets out a painful sounding chuckle when you swipe your thumb over his tip.
“Eager for me, are yeh? Can’t keep your hands off my cock?”
You scoot in closer to him and start stroking him with expert, practiced flicks of your wrist.
“I’m wet,” you whimper, taking his hand in your free one and bringing it down to your center. It’s easy for him to feel the dampness that has started to leak through your thin panties and you watch as his eyes go dark.
“Shit, you are wet, aren’t you?” he replies, starting a slow rub up and down the crease of your underwear, “Needin’ me that bad?”
“Mmm,” you whine, biting your lip as his thumb hits right where you need him, “Harry, please.”
He’s up and hovering over top of you as soon as the breathy plea leaves your lips. Your hand slips from his boxers and goes up around his back, pulling him down closer to you. Your nails dig into his skin when he sponges kisses on your neck and Harry lets out a hiss at the pleasured pain that comes with your scratching.
“Gonna give you what you need, doll,” he promises, “But you gotta be quiet for me. Can you do that? Don’t wanna have mum or Gem hearin’ how good I’m fuckin’ you, do you?”
You bite your lip and shake your head, furiously. Harry is pushing his boxers down his legs and flinging them across the room before pulling your panties off of you, leaving you clad only in the large shirt that you had stolen from Harry’s closet the night before. Your nipples are poking through the silky fabric and Harry leans down to cover your breast with his mouth, not even caring about the shirt in between you.
The first time you let out a moan, Harry stops what he’s doing and smirks at you.
“S’not very quiet, love. M’not even inside of you yet.”
“Sorry,” you whimper, “I’m sorry. Please keep going, Harry. Please!”
He chuckles at your desperation and lines himself up with your center, pushing in painfully slow so you can feel everything. You know you’re about to cry out so you pull him down even closer to you so you can muffle your cries into his shoulder.
“Bite me,” Harry requests, gritting his teeth as he bottoms out inside of you, “Wanna feel you bite me.”
You do as he asks, mainly out of necessity, as he starts to thrust and hits an incredibly pleasurable spot. Your nails continue to dig into his back and your teeth are sinking into the meaty skin of his shoulder.
“Deeper,” you moan, bringing your legs up around his waist.
You cry out again when Harry thrusts sharply at the new angle and he quickly covers your mouth with his, feeling your body start to clench around him.
“Fuck, that’s it. Feel so bloody good around me. Can’t wait to see all those scratches on my back later.”
He thrusts hard again and you quiver, feeling your legs start to shake around his waist and the knot in your stomach start to unravel.
“Harry…Harry, I’m gonna..oh! Oh shit, I’m -”
One more thrust and he has you at your peak. You bite down hard on to his shoulder once more as you cum, gripping on to him for dear life and trying very hard not to make a sound, even though all you want to do is scream his name.
“Good girl,” he praises, “Gonna make me cum, too, baby.”
Your mind is a bit hazy, but you’re vaguely aware of Harry thrusting, sloppily, a few more times before you feel him pause and release into you. He collapses gently on top of you when he finishes and the two of you lay there for a few moments, breathing heavily in the silence of the room.
When he finally leans up, he’s smiling at you, and places a sweet kiss on your lips.
“S’it time for breakfast now?”
You laugh. “I guess we could head down and make something.”
“Not quite what I had in mind, love.” He grins, inching himself down your body. “S’been a while…I kinda wanna eat somethin’ else right now.”
Your breathing picks up again and you quickly grab for the pillow beside you, knowing that you’re going to need something to bite again.
He wasn’t sure when, but at some point going to the Inquisitor’s room, to Elden’s room, at the end of the day had just become habit. Dorian didn’t even think about it, didn’t even realize, until he reached the top of the stairs and found himself standing in the dark room and staring at the empty bed. There wasn’t even a fire going but Dorian wasn’t certain the involuntary shiver that ran through him was from the chill alone. It was ridiculous. He knew the Inquisitor was only away on a mission, he would return by the end of the week, but having him gone like this for so long–
It was aggravating. Every time his thoughts strayed they always went back to Elden. He wasn’t alone, he would be safe, and yet Dorian couldn’t help but worry. If he let his thoughts wander long enough he always managed to come up with ever worse fates Elden could meet and there was nothing Dorian could do to help him.
He stared at the empty bed for a long time, unable to pull his gaze away. It just seemed so wrong. Usually Elden would still be up waiting for him, book in hand and candle lit on the bedside table. Now it was all dark and It was unsettling not even seeing a lump under the blankets where he usually slept. Truth be told Dorian had been avoiding this room since Elden had left. Sure, it was depressing returning to his tiny barely-used quarters near the library, but it was better than seeing this room so empty and without life.
He thought about leaving and returning to his own room as usual, but Dorian was gripped with such an overwhelming sense of longing that he couldn’t bring himself to go. He missed Elden so much it hurt more than Dorian thought possible. He sat on Elden’s side of the bed, lighting the fireplace with flick of his wrist. He touched the pillow, not really sure what he was doing. He shivered again and climbed under the blankets, pulling them tightly around himself.
It smelled like home and comfort and safety. It smelled like Elden. Dorian hurried and buried his face in the pillow, feeling so foolish and wondering how he had fallen so badly when he’d told himself time and time again how unwise this all was. And yet here he was, sleeping in another man’s empty bed and longing for him to return, counting down the days until he could finally touch Elden again, hold him tightly and feel his warmth, kiss him until they both ran out of air. He couldn’t help but wonder if Elden felt the same.
Doubtful. Dorian was never that lucky.
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. He’d intended to return to his own quarters but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave, not when he was engulfed here by the memories of Elden.
Dorian woke to the feel of someone running their fingers through his hair. His first thought was of Elden, but of course he was gone. Annoyed, he readied a spell just in case as he cracked open an eye to see who had disturbed him in such an intimate way, but froze. It really was Elden. He was sitting on the edge of the bed leaning over him, covered in dust, sweaty and with his hair sticking out at odd angles. Helmet hair, Dorian thought. He wondered if Elden had come looking for him straight away but of course he remembered he was in Elden’s room, not his own.
Well. This was awkward. Sure, he had spent more nights here than not as of late, but this still felt intrusive. A half-formed protest or an explanation, he wasn’t really sure which, was about to come tumbling out but Elden spoke before he could get his mouth working.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said and Dorian felt light-headed and stunned in disbelief. “You weren’t in your room or the library; I was beginning to get worried.”
“You’ve– been looking?” Dorian repeated, his mind having trouble keeping up, sluggish from sleep as well as surprise. “What are you even doing here? I thought you weren’t due back ‘til the end of the week.”
“We may have rushed a bit,” Elden said sheepishly, an adorable blush creeping into his cheeks and Dorian berated himself for being distracted by it. “I missed you.”
And then Dorian was kissing him. He didn’t even think about it. He just pulled Elden close, overwhelmed with affection and relief and so much more that he’d rather not think about right at this moment. All that mattered was that Elden was here and that Dorian had been missed. Perhaps as much as Dorian had missed him. He feared it all might be a dream, too good to be true.
Suddenly Elden was pulling back and Dorian tried to mask his disappointment.
“Sorry,” Elden said, chuckling a bit. “I am covered in dirt. Probably some blood too. Not my own, don’t worry. Just give me a second to get cleaned up.”
“Ugh, yes, you really are a mess,” Dorian said although truth be told he didn’t particularly care at the moment.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Elden said as he quickly removed his armor and headed for the wash room. “I’ll be right back.”
Dorian watched him go, feeling a swell of affection as Elden tripped over himself slightly in his haste. This was really happening. This man was his and Dorian could hardly believe how happy he was. He reminded himself that there was still a war going on and no doubt this would all end in tragedy, but perhaps for the moment he could put that aside.
He just wanted to focus on this moment, on Elden and everything he had with this man. Dorian had been told his entire life that he would never have this, this closeness and affection, someone like Elden, and yet here he was. And Dorian still found himself constantly fearing for the worst. But then Elden would smile at him, like he was now as he returned from the other room, and his expression said more than words ever could and Dorian knew the depths of everything he felt for him. It was overwhelming and terrifying and perfect and all Dorian could do was pull him close and kiss him, hoping Elden knew that he felt the same.
Holy shit after 2 hours of trying to save these on gmail I got it to work fuck.
@smokeplanet Look what I’ve done to your bois. 100% nerdier lol
Mitch and Jonas in a fantasy AU where Jonas is an ethereal beauty of an elf and Mitch is a fucking orc.
So I always pretty much wing it when it comes to tagging people for my fics, going by comments and who previously liked my stuff or asked to be tagged. But I’ve noticed a lot of blogs I tag are either inactive or no longer interested in my writing (which I completely understand since I’ve been switching fandoms the past year)
I think it’s time for me to make a new, official tag list, and I’m gonna start from scratch. Meaning as of now my tag list is completely empty and I need to hear from every single one of you who wants to be on it.
I will only have one tag list for all my writing: Sebastian, Bucky, Chris, Steve and Tayte. I write too many characters and actors to keep separate lists for all of them, sorry.
You can reblog, reply or just send me a quick message if you want to be on my tag list. I’ll be reblogging this post several times over the coming weeks and tagging different people every time to make sure you all get this.
One more thing, my fics are for 18+ readers, I trust you all not to ask me to tag you if you are under 18.
Are we completely sure that’s how it’s supposed to look?”
Gif prompt: in the story
*The one room we didn’t do it in!
“Are we completely sure that’s how it’s supposed to look?”
You bite your lower lip; it stills a bit puffed and warmer than usual from the intense kissing, and your eyes scan the apparently neat surface. “Grab that corner,” you indicate and take the opposite yourself. “Pull.”
Dean and you haul the sheets, each one towards themselves, “Yeah, now I think…” you trail off when his arms are around your waist from behind, the weight of his body against yours almost makes you fall onto the bed. “Careful! I don’t wanna have to tide it up again.”
“Let’s get outta here then. Sam’s gonna kill us when he finds out-”
“If, he finds out.” you turn around in Dean’s arms and nibble at the side of his jaw.
“He will, Y/N. We broke it.” he growls a little bit, his hands pressing your body impossibly closer to his.
“You broke it,” you slip off his embrace and start walking out the room, Dean stops you by the hand and you pull him behind you.
“I broke it? I remember someone else jump at me, making us both fall down.”
“Yeah… and you weren’t strong enough to catch me!” Your eyes meet and you both smile at the memory
“Now, we gonna have to scratch Sam’s room out with a little item on the side saying: the one room we didn’t do it in!” you whine and Dean laughs.
You turn around and glare at him. “Now where? That whole breaking the bed thing kinda interrupted us.”
Dean stops with you, a big smile playing at his lips as he thinks. “I recall having quite a nice time at the garage.”
You nod slowly. “Big old cars, fucking comfortable back seats! I race you?” Before Dean understand what’s going on you already start to run. “You comin’?” you mock seeing over your shoulder he hasn’t moved yet.
The heavy door of the bunker opens and closes, you’re about to stop when Dean’s arms come suddenly and the only thing you can do is squirm when he hauls you up and carries you over his shoulder shushing you and telling you to be quiet.
I….oh my god that name is so outdated and I need to change it. At this point I’ve had it that way for so long that it’s basically invisible to me?? I forgot about it until you mentioned it, lmao.
One of my old friends lovingly nicknamed me Titanic because I am pretty tall, like, I can lead people through crowds and stuff because my head is a good reference point. :’D This blog used to be called @theunsinkable before i renamed to reallycorking like….3 years ago, so it made a lot more sense in that context. Now it’s just weird!!!!! SORRY