#i couldn’t find one that had the same buttons AND had string drawstrings

[i-identify-pet-products]

Wagwear Wagwellies Mojave in Cobolt Blue

He looks like an old light house keeper

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 7 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Chapter 7 is here!!

Title: Succession Chapter 7

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language 

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter 7

You awoke from your nap feeling rested.  You didn’t open your eyes just yet and you let the hangover of sleep fade away.  Extra sleep was just what you needed to relax from the last 24 hours.  Or had it been a few days?  A week?  You had no idea what day it was, let alone the exact time.  You didn’t wear a wristwatch and the only thing you had to tell time was your iPhone...which was probably all broken to hell amongst the crash.   You sighed sleepily before being aware of a presence behind you.  The dip in the bed along with the knowledge that Heisenberg had locked the door behind him startled you.  

You turned over with a gasp to find Heisenberg on the other side of the bed.  He sat lounging back on his pillow that was propped up against the headboard.  His coat and buttoned up shirt had been discarded, his tight undershirt the only thing covering his torso.  His hat, gloves, and sunglasses were gone as well.  He puffed on his cigar, his left leg lying straight among the covers, and his right foot flat on the bed.  He rested his right hand on his knee in between puffs of his cigar.  He looked perfectly content and relaxed.

“Sleep well, pussycat?” he asked after expelling a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.  He looked down at you and smiled knowingly as he rested his arm atop his knee.  You relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You scared me.  I thought you had gone somewhere in the factory…” you responded, laying your head back on the pillow.

“I did...two hours ago.  You’ve been asleep for a while…”

“Really?” you murmured.  The only clock was on Heisenberg’s nightstand and you couldn’t see it past his hulking body.  You were so disoriented from not knowing the time that you had no idea which way was up.  

“I didn’t want to wake you.  You look so fucking beautiful as you sleep,” Heisenberg complimented with a coy smile on his face.  You rolled your eyes and brought the blanket further up your body, shivering slightly.

“I’m cold…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself.  There wasn’t a fire burning in the fireplace yet and the cold from the outside seemed to slide its way into the factory.  You were wearing a long sleeved shirt with a pair of drawstring pants, but the cold still managed to seep in.  Goosebumps rose all over your body and you trembled visibly.

“Come here…” Heisenberg said, putting his cigar in the ashtray on his nightstand.  You shimmied back against him, desperate for warmth.  He slid down under the blanket and pulled you to him, your back against his front.

“Mmmm...you’re trembling…” Heisenberg whispered against your ear.  His arms held you tighter and you slowly began to relax back into him.  You hadn’t been held in so long and, despite the circumstances, it felt good to be held.  His body temperature was warm.  His left arm was around your shoulders while the other wrapped around your waist and held you close.  It felt nice...really, really nice…

You were unable to stop yourself when you slowly rolled your ass back against him.  Heisenberg’s arms tightened around your body and he let out a breathy chuckle.  “Do you know what you’re doing there, pussycat?” he asked gruffly.

You kept your eyes closed, bit your lower lip, and rolled your ass back again.  The memory of earlier that day came back to you.  His hips trapping yours against the wall and feeling his cock through his pants...it made you wet again.  It was obvious the two of you had an undeniable attraction to each other.  Yes, you were locked away in his quarters in the factory and yes, he was not allowing you to call for help from the outside world...but god dammit, this man riled you up in ways you had never felt before.

Heisenberg removed his arm from around your waist and slowly slid his hand to your hip.  His fingers squeezed you and pulled you closer.  You heard him moan under his breath and it made you moan softly.  Heisenberg chuckled as his hand went to your thigh and pulled your leg aside.  Heat crept up your face as his index finger and thumb caught the string of your pants and slowly pulled the knot free.  You lifted your head from the pillow to look down just as his hand slid down the front of your pants.

“Karl…” you moaned, tilting your head back.  Heisenberg growled and started kissing along your neck. You shivered at the feel of his full lips against your flesh.  His hot breath hit your skin before you felt his teeth lightly nipping at you.  His index and middle finger spread your pussy lips and pushed lower.  You arched your back and rolled your ass against his groin.  At the feel of your wetness, he moved his fingers to your clit and started to rub.

“God damn, Y/N…” Heisenberg moaned, his lips at your ear, “...you’re so fucking wet…”

You lifted your hand and moved it behind his head, running your fingers through his hair.  His breath in your ear made your skin erupt in goosebumps.  You bucked your hips against his hand while his fingers continued to rub you.  Turning your head towards him, he let you roll onto your back, your head lying on his opposite arm while he continued to finger your wet cunt.

“I haven’t been touched like this in a long time…” you panted as you looked up into his eyes.  He smiled down at you, lips hovering over yours, his brown and gray hair framing his face.  You lifted your head in order to kiss him, but he pulled back, chuckling at your desperate need for his lips.  “Karl...please…” you whimpered.

“Not yet…” he murmured, his eyes gazing into yours, “...I’ll kiss you soon...in due time.”  You whimpered once again, bucking your hips against his hand.  “And no cumming…” he added, “...do not cum until I tell you to cum…”

You cursed under your breath and lifted your left hand to the headboard, gripping one of the railings.  Your right hand wrapped around his wrist as you tried to buck yourself harder, ravenous for more of his fingers.  “Sshhhhhh…” Heisenberg whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead, “...be a good little pussycat…”

You gripped the headboard railing harder as your thighs spread wider.  Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes.  His fingers tortured your clit, going from slow to fast circles, and going from soft to hard pressure and back again.  Karl Heisenberg was driving you fucking insane.

“When I make you cum, I want you to scream my name…” Heisenberg ordered, moving his fingers faster, circling your clit with your wetness, “...scream my name, Y/N...let me hear it....”

Your left hand flew down to his wrist, joining your right hand, desperate to assist his ministrations.  You bucked against his hand, the overwhelming pleasure building.  Your thighs were splayed wide and you moved your hips faster, hopelessly chasing your release.

“Karl...Karl...oh fuck...Karl…” you moaned.  Heisenberg chuckled softly, his tongue sliding over his lips.  His eyes bored holes into yours.  You took in every inch of his face...his piercing eyes, prominent nose, and full lips.  Every nerve ending in your body wanted this man.

“Good girl.  Now...cum for me.  Be a good girl and cum for me…”

You awoke from your nap with a start, sitting up straight in bed.  You looked around the room, your eyes finally coming to rest on Heisenberg.  The door to his room was opened wide and he stood leaning back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, and an amused smile on his face.

“My word, doll face,” he marveled, “that sounded like quite a nap you just had.  What, pray tell, were you dreaming about?”

Your hair was in disarray and the blanket had been kicked to the floor.  The flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks and you panicked at the thought of what you might have done or said as you slept.

“Umm...wha-what was I saying?” you asked sheepishly.  Heisenberg tossed his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You weren’t say anything...but those moans and groans...pussycat, I would sell my soul to have been able to peer into that dream…”

Your pulse calmed a bit, thankful that you weren’t calling out his name.  But that smug son of a bitch...standing there and listening to you moaning and watching you writhing on his bed...he would never let you live that down.  You let out a defeated sigh and fell back on the pillow, covering your face with your hands.

*

“You can sit down over there,” Heisenberg said, motioning to a rusted metal chair across the room.  You pulled it closer to a table and set your book down, making yourself comfortable.  You watched as he pulled a stool up to a table away from where you were sitting, taking a seat and beginning to rifle through stacks of papers.

Heisenberg could tell that you were getting stir crazy locked away in his private quarters, so he gave you the decision to accompany him to his office as he conducted his work.  When you asked what he was working on, he responded with a curt “none of your business.”  You glared at him, but decided that a change in scenery would be better than being cooped up in the same room again.

You opened your book and began to read.  Soon you were lost in your story, the only sounds being distant clanging of metal and chains and sporadic machines chugging along.  It provided nice ambient background noise and allowed you to concentrate on reading.

The sudden loud sound of a propeller blade made you jump with a start.  You looked over at Heisenberg and heard him sigh with impatience.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled loudly.

“That wasn’t me!” you spat back at him, giving the back of his head an incredulous look.

“I wasn’t talking to you…” he muttered, continuing to write on a piece of paper.  Well, who the fuck were you talking to, you thought, it’s only me and you in the room!

Another twenty minutes passed and the two of you were quiet and contentedly toiling away at your respective projects when the loud propeller sound rang out again.  Heisenberg stood up fast, his stool falling over onto the floor.  He marched to an opening in the floor next to your table.

“I SAID SHUT UP!!!” he yelled down into the hole.  As if his outburst never happened, Heisenberg walked back to his table, uprighted his stool, and sat back down.  You looked from the floor to Heisenberg and back again.

“What’s down there?” you asked softly, not wanting to piss him off any more than that noise already did.

“You don’t want to know,” he answered, continuing to work on the task before him, keeping his back to you.

“I kinda do…” you said, turning your body towards his direction.

You watched as Heisenberg slowly lifted his head and dropped his pencil to the table.  “I can drop you down there if you want to find out…” he growled, keeping his back to you.  

His gravelly voice shut you up.  You remembered the array of bodies that were in this place...god only knows what could be down there.  Turning your attention back to your book, you kept your mouth shut.

After an hour of reading and you taking in the views around the room, and that included Heisenberg, the man finally finished his tasks and turned to you.

“The sun will be setting soon,” Heisenberg said, “what do you say I make us dinner and we take it outside and enjoy the fresh air for a bit?”

You looked over and stared at him in slight disbelief.  Dinner and watching the sunset?  This man was a complete enigma.  Just yesterday, he locked you away in a cold, dank room and then brought you something warm to eat.  Earlier today, he was yelling at you for walking off to pet the Duke’s horse and the next he was giving you chocolate.  One minute, he had you against the wall with his hand on your throat, the next he was grinding against you and leaning in to kiss you…

Nope...you stopped yourself from thinking about anything remotely sexual about this man.  You chalked your feelings up to Stockholm Syndrome and the trashy romance novels you had read over the years.  No way were you going to fall down that rabbit hole.  But the thought of dinner did make your stomach growl...and taking in more of the beautiful mountains did sound like a better view than anything in the factory.

“I would like that very much…”

[roselirry]

i should’ve been there (a full english drabble 3k)

or the one that’s only kind of about amelie and niall and more about niall and harry...or the one for @liambaeyne because it’s her birthday 

amelie knew liam had money; he was 26 with a software program that left him one of the youngest start-up owners in the state of california. she wasn’t aware that he had enough money to buy a large boat that came with its own captain and a chef that brought them frozen watermelon margaritas and avocado egg rolls that she demolished in ten minutes.

“i might have to leave you for liam,” she said to her boyfriend, biting down on her straw and sipping on her second margarita.

niall was lounging on her stomach, his neck resting at the edge so his head was placed comfortably on her bare skin. he was ruining her tan, and he was adding to the heat that the sun already brought, but she didn’t care much. he reached up to tip his sunglasses down to the button of his nose. “not if i leave you for him first.” niall smirked, grabbing amelie’s wrist when she went to smack his shoulder, pulling her up marginally so he could press a kiss to the inside of her palm.

“how about you two stay together and i stay with my boyfriend? you might know him, his name is liam.”

the pair had thought harry was fast asleep, the sunglasses covering his eyes and the shallow breathing that had taken over. he was an easy sleeper, falling asleep on nearly every journey the four of them took together. he had draped himself over amelie when they drove to vegas for liam’s birthday, he slept on liam’s shoulder when they had to wait for an hour to get on a ride at disneyland. sleep was not a difficult trick to master for harry styles.

“did we wake you?” amelie asked, handing over the fresh drink that had been saved for when he woke up.

harry sat up, taking it and thanking amelie softly. “no, was never asleep. where is liam?”

niall didn’t answer, distracted by amelie dragging her fingers through his hair. harry huffed, sending a silent plea for amelie to answer. “he’s useless,” he had muttered, only to her.

she smiled. “liam’s below deck, think he had to go let the chef know what to make or something along those lines, not sure though.”

harry thanked her again and jetted off, slipping on a t-shirt that belonged to niall as he headed down the steps and under the deck to find his boyfriend.

“i could spend all day out here.” niall mumbled, his words sliding together, nearly incoherent.

amelie agreed with him. the weather was pleasant, warm with a breeze, and just enough sunlight to make her hairline perspire. the people were even better. they’d done get together’s where it was everyone in their friend group, and sometimes that was too much; from heated discussions about politics, to drunken shenanigans that always put amelie on edge. when it was the four of them, it was easier to relax and just enjoy going with the flow, eat until her fingers were sticky with fresh fruit juice, and drink until her body felt pleasantly unbalanced. it made her want to never leave.

“we’re spending the night on the boat,” she reminded him gently. setting her drink on the small tray next to her, she reached for him with her now free hand, scratching her fingers against his chest. “we’re here for the weekend.”

niall turned, his cheek now against her skin, and he smiled at her. “i know. i still don’t want to move from this spot, not today, not ever preferably. good food, good drinks, good friends, and the light of my life, don’t need anything else, do i?” he didn’t wait for her to say anything, rotating his head more so he could kiss her stomach, small pecks that sprouted butterflies with every touch.

“maybe the dog,” amelie teased.

niall beamed against her skin. “you’re right, and me guitar.”

they couldn’t forget the guitar.

“can i ask you something,” amelie questioned, staring at her bare left ring finger. she had deemed it safer to leave it at home, her ability to lose things uncanny. she didn’t want to lose that.

niall returned to his original position, this time his sunglasses off his face so she could see the blue that the seawater brought out. “of course, amelie. is something wrong?”

she shook her head back and forth, “no, no, no, i just want your thought on something.” he said nothing so she took that as indication for her to ask her question. “do you think this is an engagement trip?”

niall sat up. “hmm?”

“i think liam and harry are engaged and they’re not telling us.”

amelie had been pondering the idea since she stepped onto the boat. they had been welcomed by both liam and harry, all loved up and wearing disheveled button down shirts and wild grins that painted the picture of newly engaged couple. it wasn’t just that, it was the way liam held onto harry, how his thumb ran over the skin of harry’s left ring finger, as if something was missing. it was the knowing smile that harry sent liam over his dinner plate that brought amelie’s suspicion to the forefront. as she explained to niall, his eyebrows arched and he played with the drawstring of her bikini bottom, as he normally did whenever she was in that specific bikini.

“they’d tell us, right?” niall tried justifying. “they were the first people to find out about us, isn’t it like required for them to tell us first?”

they were the first ones to find out, solely because amelie entrusted them with a key to her old apartment, and they had decided to return it at the same time niall and amelie were celebrating the new chapter of their lives. harry did cry, not out of joy, but out of the disrespect he felt because amelie didn’t ask him for permission.

amelie grabbed her drink, taking a sip long enough to gather her thoughts. “liam’s pretty reserved though, he might want to let them kind of keep it to themselves for a little bit. let it soak in.”

“i’m basically an extension of harry styles, i have a right to know,” niall whined, lulling to the side until he was essentially on top of her, face tucked into her neck. “it makes sense though,” he concluded, “harry said he would move in with liam when it was serious and to harry that means engaged. i found boxes in his car yesterday, labeled with stuff like kitchen and bathroom.”

“maybe that’s why we’re here for the weekend, so they can tell us about it over dinner.” amelie hypothesized, carding her fingers through niall’s hair.

he hummed. “you know what i realized.”

“what?”

“we’re all alone, and all we’re doing is talking about another couple.” he kissed the skin where her jaw flowed into her neck, nipping softly so that her hand would come to thread through his hair. “that seems unproductive.”

he dragged his lips to hers, slotting them together and lazily allowing the kiss to take its own direction. he tasted like beer, a taste that amelie had grown accustomed to. she tasted sour, the remnants of watermelon juice living on her tongue. it was slow, relaxed, languid, and he took the time to place kisses down the length of her jaw, down her neck, following an invisible connect the dots that made her tug at his hair.

niall moved the strap of her bikini, placing it off her shoulder so he could place his lips against growing tan lines. he trailed down her chest, hands sweeping up and down her sides, thumbs pressing against her skin. she giggled as the stubble on his jaw tickled against her skin and the sound produced a smile that he kissed against her belly button. god, did he love her.

he loved her when she accidentally flooded their new kitchen, having got caught up in a tug of war match with wallace featuring one of her favorite shoes. he loved her when she twisted her ankle after attempting a running cartwheel on the beach and he had to carry her back to their house, a twenty-minute walk. he loved her when she showed up to his classroom with cupcakes, two tins, one full of sugary goodness and the other allergy safe, some dairy free, some gluten free, always making sure everyone would be able to have one. he loved her when she came undone underneath him, her nails against his back as a bruno mars song played in the background because they had gotten distracted while they cooked dinner.

he loved her.

niall’s fingers slipped underneath the strings of her bottoms, preparing to pull them down when a screech sounded from close to them.

“we’re in public.” harry chastised.

niall pulled away from amelie, cheeks bright pink, and her unabashedly grinning at both harry and liam. she was unashamed.

“we’re on a boat.” amelie glanced around. “there’s no one here.”

harry rolled his eyes, sitting in his chair and pulling liam down with them, instantly cuddling into his boyfriend (or maybe fiancé.) “the captain isn’t blind.” harry grabbed his drink, taking a sip.

“don’t talk like you didn’t try the same thing,” liam teased harry. harry blushed, tucking his nose directly into liam’s neck, muttering something about being embarrassed in front of his friends. liam continued, “our captain, dean, i guess he saw us because we weren’t in the blind spot of the ship and he beeped the horn at us and politely asked for us to stop because we were in his eye sight. i was so embarrassed, i gave him a raise right then and there.”

niall shook his head, “and you yell at us for public indecency?” he poked harry’s leg with his hand.

harry turned his head. “don’t be mean to me, i’m a newlywed.”

liam froze. amelie nearly dropped her margarita on her stomach and niall gasped.

“you’re a what?” amelie sat up, shoving niall off of her bottom half so she could properly face the apparent newlyweds.

harry sat up, eyes wide with concern. he was not supposed to say anything from the pale expression on liam and harry’s faces. “we, uh, we eloped.” harry croaked, voice squeaking with every other word. “on thursday.”

“were you sober?”

“niall,” amelie smacked his arm.

he rubbed the area. “it’s a completely reasonable question.”

“we were sober,” liam defended. he interlocked his hand with harry’s. “i just turned to harry the other day and said i wanted to marry him, and we decided that it would be easier to just start the married life now. we didn’t need frills or anything.”

at that, amelie leaped off of her seat and jumped on top of both of them, bringing them into a hug that made all three of them tumble backwards. “i’m so happy for you guys,” she kissed both of their cheeks, keeping them close as harry remained frozen but liam wrapped a secure arm around her to ensure little injury on her part.

“i can’t believe you didn’t invite me!” niall finally said.

amelie sat up, giving each of the boys two more kisses before sitting back down and waiting for niall to elaborate.

“i was supposed to be your best man!” he got more irish by the second. “the stag-do was going to be incredible, we were going to play golf and then get a boat. a proper lads’ day! we haven’t had one of those in years!”

harry frowned, reaching for niall. he looked like someone shot him when niall slipped out of his reach. “niall.”

“you’re me best mate, harry. i wanted to watch ya’ get married, and give you a speech that would make you fuckin’ cry like a little baby because i write songs and i’m a fuckin’ poet and you’re an easy crier!” niall was rubbing at his eyes, trying to prevent the emotion from taking over.

amelie found liam’s eyes, and he looked equally as at a loss for how to handle the situation in front of them.

“i’m sorry,” harry tried. he reached for niall again. “i didn’t...i wasn’t thinking. we were just so in the moment, and we didn’t even tell our parents, niall you have to believe me. i didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” he looked at liam like he would know how to solve the world’s problems.

niall stood up. “i know you didn’t mean to, bro, but you did. i’m happy for you mate, thrilled, but i wish i could have been there.” the three watched him walk away, heading around the deck to the back of the boat.

harry stood up instantly. “i should go talk to him.”

amelie grabbed his wrist softly, “i’ll go. let him cool down, okay?” she used harry as leverage to pull herself up, standing in front of him and giving him a gentle smile. “it’ll be okay,” she promised, wiping her finger under his eye.

niall had his hands against the railing, back to amelie and staring out onto the ocean water. amelie came up behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her chin onto his shoulder. he said nothing and neither did she. niall liked to be held when he needed consoling and then spoken to.

“you know, i was the first person he came out to. i remember it. we were roommates our first year of university, and one night he turned to me, poor lad was shaking and couldn’t even look me in the eye.” he sighed. “he turned to me and said ‘niall, i’m gay’ and i just looked at him and said ‘will you still play video games with me?’ and from there it was like nothing changed. i was with him when he told his parents, and we know they’re just as supportive, and i was with him when he went through his weird phase of men who only wore salmon colored shorts.

“he’s my best friend. i wanted to be there because i have been there, and he’s been there too. he was the person i called after our first date, he came to pick out the ring with me. we’ve always been there for each other.”

amelie held him a little tighter. “should we elope? that’ll show him, yeah?” she teased, knowing it would pull a smile out of him.

it did.

he took her hand that was splayed over his stomach and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckle. “as much as it would show him, i am looking forward to watching you walk down the aisle. and i know harry will give me a good speech, and he’ll go all out for my stag-do.”

amelie twisted him around so she could cuddle into his chest. “he’ll probably get you tickets to the british open. knowing him.” harry liked to spoil. it was his nature.

“maybe we should give him the opportunity to grovel sooner rather than later.” niall suggested, his nose nudging into her hair, her normal raspberry mint scent covered by salt-water. “i know we wanted to wait a bit, get a bit more settled but neither of us want a big wedding and i think we’re ready.”

amelie smiled into his chest. “you want to set a date?”

“how about october?”

“where?”

“the beach by your old place.”

amelie stood up straight so she could look at him properly. “really?”

he had wanted to get married in a church, because that’s what he always grew up thinking he would do. it was something he hadn’t backed down on, and she hadn’t backed down on not getting married in a church. she knew he had changed his mind when he was on the phone with his mom. but, what he didn’t know was that she had changed her mind too. both of them were ready to compromise for one another.

“i fell in love with you when your feet was covered in sand and our dog was trying to eat shells. i proposed to you on that beach, sweaty as anything. it makes sense to me, that that’s where i’d marry you too. at sunset.” he chuckled softly, hands coming to her cheeks to rub away the tears that had started to fall. “and i called harry an easy crier.”

amelie rolled her eyes, grabbing his wrists and leaning into his touch. “you’re a damn poet, horan. save it for the vows.”

“you want me to call harry an easy crier in our wedding vows?”

“no, but i do want you to go put him out of his misery.” she had left a harry that looked like a puppy who had been kicked. “the poor guy is such a romantic, baby. but he’s over there probably planning an entire ceremony just so you can be there and give a speech.”

“he is a romantic, isn’t he?” niall conceded, letting out a sigh and knocking his forehead against hers. “they brought us on their honeymoon, we should be celebrating not making harry cry.”

“you’re right.” although, amelie secretly hoped they would get a proper honeymoon that wasn’t just a weekend with friends. “now go on.”

“i think i need a kiss first, fuel you know?”

“fuel?”

niall’s eyebrow lifted, “yeah, fuel, my love. just a little kiss,” he puckered his lips, shutting his eyes and waiting patiently.

amelie couldn’t resist him, or his sweeping new hairstyle, or his stubble, or how he reminded her of the north star, bright enough to always bring her home. she kissed him, letting herself get lost in him for enough moments that her toes were lifted off the ground. “niall!” she laughed, stumbling when he put her down. “please go give your friend a hug.”

niall ran off, amelie followed, and was happy to witness her fiancé yell out to the newlyweds and attack harry with a hug that knocked both of them onto the ground. all she could do was laugh when she watched him kiss harry’s cheek and congratulate him profusely, the tear stains on harry’s face quickly being replaced by the magnetic grin he always had.

“your fiancé is an idiot.” liam stood next to her, draping an arm around her shoulder.

“your husband is strange.”

“i’ll drink to that.”

“hey!” two voices sounded from the opposite side of the deck sounded.

“we love you!”

[spartanguard]

Just read Unnecessary Wetness, it was so delightfully detailed. Any chance you would write some Florida vacation, later that evening CS smut as a follow up? Will David be forced to listen to the headboard next door banging up against the wall?

completely (un)necessary

well, this took a lot longer than expected…but it totally ran away from me. (I hope that’s not a bad thing!!) but here it finally is: the smutty sequel to necessary protection and unnecessary wetness. (and a continuation of my self-indulgent on/around-birthday fic-posting tradition) big huge thank-you to @xpumpkindumplingx, the best red velvet cupcake around, for beta’ing and finding that amazing graphic! 2.3k words.

In hindsight, booking a vacation with her parents maybe wasn’t the wisest choice. Even if they were sort of the same age, Emma didn’t need to know what they did behind closed doors, the same as she was sure David would stab Killian again if he knew the things the pirate did to his princess.

So when Snow called for her husband, citing her need for him inside their rented vacation house right after the boys’ entertaining game of catch, Emma made a point to stay in the backyard by the pool. Killian was lounging in the far end, arms spread across the edge and head tilted back, enjoying the last of the setting sun’s rays on his face.

God, he was beautiful. She couldn’t help but admire him and the way the fading sunlight painted all his perfect edges; he was a goddamn work of art.

“I can feel you staring,” he called out. She rolled her eyes, but he continued to taunt. “Come look a bit closer.”

Chuckling, she stood up from her lounge chair and slowly stalked across the yard, rounding the curve of the oval pool to where he reclined. Carefully, she sat next to the pool, tucking her legs under her, and took advantage of the angle to appreciate his amazing profile.

“Now, isn’t that better?” He hadn’t even opened his eyes, but that cocky brow was teasingly arched and he wore a self-satisfied smirk. She couldn’t help the hum of agreement that followed, though, and brushed a still-damp tendril of hair off that flawless face.

He sighed and leaned into her hand as she combed her fingers through his coif, so she kept at it, his contentedness eliciting the same feeling in her until she couldn’t take it anymore, gripped his tresses just a bit tighter to rotate his face to her, and leaned down to kiss him.

His mouth was always warm and inviting, but moreso in the Florida heat, and she soon got lost in the feel of his lips and tongue tangling with hers. She became vaguely aware of his hand in her hair and his wrist at her waist, and suddenly the entire world was moving around her—or was she moving?

“Ahh!” she yelped just before splashing into the pool. Of course, he was laughing when she surfaced, and the happy, relaxed look on his face that she saw once clearing her hair from her own made it impossible for her to be mad at him. She waded through the warm water to him, pressing herself close and enjoying how he felt even more heated than the pool.

He didn’t waste a moment, wrapping his arms around her and reaffixing his lips to hers. Emma’s hands found his chest, fingers dragging through the coarse hair plastered to his skin as their mouths began to dance again. Being stomach-to-stomach and skin-to-skin was a sensation she’d hardly ever felt outside the bedroom, and just that simple contact was enough to send her thoughts—and nerves, and heart—racing with possibilities, filled with a scandalous kind of thrill.

His train of thought was similar, she gathered, if the growing arousal she felt pressing against her core was anything to go by. His tongue delved deeper into her mouth, tangoing with her own and sending a flushed, warm feeling down her spine that had nothing to do with the water temperature.

His hand danced up her side and toyed with the corner of her string bikini top, edging a fingertip under the bra and along the bottom edge of her breast, which was mostly submerged. She sighed into his kiss, but then remembered where they were and who was nearby.

Abruptly, she broke away; he chased her, but she had to ask, “What if my parents come back?” She felt like a teenager trying not to get caught with her boyfriend.

“Trust me, love—they are just as occupied as we should be,” he panted out, leaning his forehead against hers.

“So not a mental image I needed,” she complained half-heartedly before attacking his mouth like there was no tomorrow (or, as if she needed something else to focus on, because she did).

His hand hadn’t moved while she had her momentary freak-out, but now, it did: his thumb drew up and across her nipple while his palm slid up to cup her breast under her top, repeating the motion several times as their kiss increased intensity.

Almost stealthily, his hand wandered around her back. For a moment, she was confused as to why—that felt good, dammit! But his fingers traced a heated stripe up her back to where her top was tied and deftly pulled out first the top knot, then the one at the bottom. He tugged the whole thing away, tossed it aside, and resumed his ministrations unencumbered. The feel of the water against her naked breasts reminded Emma why she’d loved skinny dipping so much as a teen, but the way he caressed them made it even better.

He switched attentions to the other breast and as he circled his thumb around a pebbled nipple, Emma felt the urge to give as good as she was getting. She dragged her fingertips down his chest, over the muscles of his abdomen, and followed the trail of hair that disappeared into his low-slung swim trunks. For a moment, she gripped his hips, her thumbs tracing the top edge of the V-shaped indents that pointed where she was headed. Then she let her fingers dance across the edge of his shorts, chuckling as he flinched when she got to the middle; she loved how he was ticklish there, just below the belly button.

Slowly, matching the pace with which he was still massaging her breast and now trailing kisses down her neck, she pulled at the tied drawstrings holding his trunks on, loosening them with care until they were undone. She then pushed them down just enough to get at what she was really after: his generous length, bobbing freely in the water. He hummed in appreciation at the sensation, making her smile; but his gasp when she took him in hand made her grin.

He stilled his hand on her first stroke; his lips stopped moving against the base of her neck on the second; and as she continued, his forehead found her shoulder and he groaned appreciatively. She’d never tire of the way she could make him fall apart, which—judging by his increasingly ragged breaths—he was about to do.

Surprisingly, his hand found hers shortly. “Not…here, love,” he stuttered, stopping her motion.

“Why not?” she wondered, in a voice more breathy than she’d anticipated.

“Just not in the pool.”

“Oh, good point.” There were still several days in their trip; if she wanted to even look at the pool without blushing, they’d need to take this somewhere else.

He took a deep breath and then stood upright, staring at her with a mix of love, lust, and playfulness in his deep blue eyes that only came out in situations like these. It always meant she was in for some fun; especially today, if the tiny twitch of the corner of his mouth was anything to go by.

“Come here, you,” he growled, then bent to clasp his arms around her, grabbing her rear end and lifting until her legs were wrapped around his waist and her head was tucked in the crook of his neck. He held her tight and began to wade through the water to the opposite end of the pool, his cock lightly tapping against her behind with each step.

Between that, his warm scent under her nose, and the feel of his chest hair brushing against her pert nipples, she was quickly lost in sensations and only vaguely aware that the water was becoming shallower. When only her toes remained submerged, Killian started to take the steps out of the pool. She finally looked up, just in time to notice him stepping out of the swim suit that had slowly fallen off as he carried her across the pool.

In contrast to how he’d picked her up, he gently sat her down on the beach towel-covered lounge chair she’d been relaxing on earlier. He hovered over her a moment, supporting himself on the arms of the chair, eyes perusing her seated form with affection and appreciation, before diving down and once more claiming her mouth with his. He wasn’t there long, though, before he traveled back down her neck with his lips, then over her collarbones, her sternum, her stomach, until she could feel his hot breath over her sex even through the bottom of her swim suit.

He paused there for a moment, almost glaring at the offending garment, before glancing back up at her through his lashes with a wicked gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

Placing his stump on the edge of her bikini, he took in his teeth the string at the side that held it tied and tugged, undoing the knot. He did the same on the other side, staring at her the whole time. She could tell she was soaking wet, and it wasn’t just the pool. It felt like she was watching in slow motion as he dragged a finger over her core through the fabric, but then in one swift move, he pulled the last barrier between them away.

She’d hardly had a chance to react to being completely bare before his mouth and tongue were on her and in her, lapping at her folds like a man dying of thirst and she an oasis of fresh water amidst the saltwater that surrounded them—which was actually a pretty good analogy, though how she came up with it, she’d never know, because that tongue was hitting all the right spots and making her squirm. He tried to hold her in place with his hand, pushing her legs farther apart with his wrist, but it was hardly any use—she was that close, and probably had been before they’d even left the pool.

For a moment, he turned his attention to her clit, gently sucking on the point of pleasure and so lost in his own that he didn’t seem to notice her fingers burying themselves in his wet hair. Her toes curled as he worked her up, and it would have been so easy to give in and free-fall then and there. But fair is fair—he didn’t let her get him off, so she wouldn’t let him either. Like everything, they’d come together.

Her fingers again tightened their grip on his locks and tugged his head up. His eyes opened slowly, as if it took a minute for him to realize she was stopping him. He quirked an eyebrow in inquiry, silently asking why she was pausing. “Get up here, pirate,” she challenged.

He was back above her in an instant, and her hand quickly found the lever to make the chair recline. He collided with her at the exact moment she pulled on it, sending them both flying back and lying flat. “Ah!” they both exclaimed, before falling into giggles at what was probably a hilarious scene—which thankfully no one saw through the mixture of bushes and palm trees that lined and shaded the yard.

It took a minute for them to calm down, but once they did, Killian was staring at her with that look of pure love she’d never, ever tire of, a soft smile on his lips. He pushed up again from off her chest and poised himself over her, aligning himself with her entrance. And in one well-rehearsed move, he surged forward and in, filling her perfectly like always and once again finding her mouth with his. Normally, she’d be fine to just enjoy the feel of him inside her for a moment, but she could taste herself on his lips and it just added to the tension that had built within. She arched her pelvis up just a tad, hoping he’d get the hint to move.

But he was already on the same page, of course, sliding out slowly. She relaxed before he moved back in, and they quickly found a lazy rhythm that matched how their day had gone so far: languid, hot, and loving. She could feel his length as it hit all the right places within, and gasped when he altered his angle just enough to find that extra-sensitive spot. It wasn’t long before her walls started fluttering and her breath came in pants; he picked up his pace to match, and reverently whispered “Come for me, Emma.”

Not a second later, she did, unable to contain her shout of “Killian!” He was right behind her, pulsing within after a few more thrusts and his own call of her name. Sparks were flying from her core in waves all through her body, down to the tips of the fingers that were gripping his firm biceps, and she could have swore she saw some overhead.

They stayed there, riding out their pleasure for what felt like ages, until he reluctantly slipped out of her and collapsed at her side, pulling her tight to him. She wasn’t sure how long they lay there, breathing in the comforting scent of each other as they came down from their high, but when she finally opened her eyes, the sky was giving way from pinks and oranges to the blue of night. She was staring at the dappled color of the clouds through the fronds of the overhead palm tree when Killian placed a gentle kiss at her temple, and reached down to grab the now-rumpled beach towel and started to clean them up with the soft terrycloth.

“So, Swan, are you enjoying this vacation?” he asked; he was trying to be flirtatious, she could tell, but it came out almost dotingly.

She turned to look at him, and his face matched his tone. Smiling back and thinking of all that had happened that afternoon—and all that was likely still to happen—she pulled his arms around her just a bit closer. “Best vacation ever.”

tagging some awesome people:  @kat2609 @thesschesthair @fergus80 @optomisticgirl @captainswanismyendgame  @shipsxahoy @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @phiralovesloki @swankkat @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones