Requests are closed! Just to let you guys know, I only update the Accepted Request list when I’ve started the writing process. In the past I’ve accepted things that I wasn’t able to get around to, so it’s my way of making sure I’m actually going to write the requests. I’ll be updating the list throughout the month, so make sure you check in!

Thursday, October 6, 2016

A Steve Rogers Lemon -- I'll Be Seeing You

Character: Steve Rogers

Fandom: The Avengers

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Sexting at work pft.  Enjoy~

The first one comes at two o’clock.  Steve is walking down the hallway with Bucky in tow, both sweaty from their workout in the training facility.  Lunch is at the forefront of their minds and they are throwing suggestions back and forth as they amble up to their rooms.  Showers are a definite necessity.
When the soft ping of an incoming text rings through the hall, Steve pulls his phone out and glances down at the screen.  The 21st century still confuses the hell out of him, sometimes, but he has at least some technological proficiency, and when he sees who has texted him he stops walking.  [Name] never texts him in the middle of the afternoon.
Bucky glances over at him with a raised eyebrow.  “What is it?” he asks, hands in his pockets as he watches his friend.
Steve purses his mouth, “It’s from [Name].  I’ll look at it later.”
Conversations with his fairly long term girlfriend (a year is apparently considered long term in this century) usually last a while.  She likes to tell him what she’s up to at the hospital where she works, and he likes to hear her stories.  It’s surprising, how much drama a hospital setting can incur.
Bucky gives him an almost cringing look, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?  Dames don’t like being ignored.”
Steve laughs.  So much has changed, in the world and between them, and yet here they are.  Bucky’s still giving him relationship advice and Steve is still treading with so much uncertainty around dating.
“Women aren’t the same as they used to be, Buck,” he says.
Bucky just smirks and rolls his eyes, “The women didn’t change, Steve; they just got empowered.”
They don’t say anything more on the subject though, and when Steve returns to his suite he tosses his phone on the bed and goes for a shower, almost forgetting about the unopened text entirely.  But by the time he comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and steam billowing behind him, Bucky’s words come back to bite him in the ass.
He sits on the edge of the bed and glances at his phone, only to see that there are two more texts.  A jolt of worry suddenly hits him at that – perhaps he should have opened the original one the moment he got it instead of taking his shower first.  What if something’s happened at the hospital and [Name] needs him? 
He grabs his phone and opens the texts without a second thought…only to start coughing the moment they load.
He hadn’t been expecting this.
Stockinged legs stretch out on the screen.  Her ankles are crossed and vibrant red heels are on display.  There’s so much leg that Steve feels his face redden as he stares.  If she’d taken the picture any higher…
“Oh God,” he mumbles, and looks at the message beneath the picture.
‘I forgot to tell you I have the day off.  Fancy stopping by for some lunch?’
He knows enough about [Name] by now to know that her current definition of ‘lunch’ doesn’t involve eating food.
He scrolls down to her next text message, which reads, ‘Playing hard to get?  ;)’
And, apparently not appreciating his accidental silence, the next text is a bit more impatient: ‘I can play hard to get too…’ 
There’s another picture attached to the message that makes Steve stare, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.  This time it’s not her legs, but her upper torso.  She’s wearing a robe – the thin black one that he remembers her wearing several times before.  A lacy black bra is peeking out from the fabric, which she’s holding against her chest with a surprised expression, as if he’s trying to wrestle it off of her and she’s defending her dignity.
…Is this really a thing now?  Sending racy pictures like this?  He vaguely remembers Tony telling him about all the inappropriate things one can find on the internet these days, but he hadn’t expected it to extend to something like this.  What if someone else were to see these?  It’s extremely improper.
Yet the rest of his body doesn’t seem to care.  He really should have held off on taking that shower.
Slightly afraid of having her send him another picture (only slightly), Steve hurries to type in a response to her.
‘I’m a little busy right now, [Name].’
He sends it without thinking it through, and immediately regrets it.  It’s too harsh.  He hurries to add, ‘But I can stop by in a few hours if you’d like.’
He sends that one too and then wonders if it sounds too eager.  He has no idea what he wants from her at this point.  Does he want more pictures, or does he want her to stop?  Steve scrubs a hand over his face with sighs.  He doesn’t even have that much experience with dating 20th century style, let alone dealing with all this.  He’s so far out of his comfort zone that he forgets what his comfort zone even looks like.
He stands up to get dressed but doesn’t get very far when [Name] texts him back.  Turning back to his phone, Steve clears his throat and opens the message.  This time, he’s a little more prepared for what’s to come.  (But only a little, and he still starts coughing and blushing because this is so new to him and it’s doing things to his body that he doesn’t want to admit - )
‘Oh, am I making you uncomfortable?  Is this a good enough apology?’  And beneath the text is another picture, this one worse than the last.
She’s lying in bed, hair strewn out as if she’s just fallen down.  Her robe has shifted and is now splayed open to show off the majority of her bra, which looks like it’s been pulled down a fraction because her breasts are very nearly on display.  He can just make out the shape of her nipples through the lace and swallows tightly when he sees how hard they are, as if she’s been playing with them…
That’s not the only thing that’s hard.  A rush of heat catches him off guard as he stares at the picture, spiraling through his body with the dull burn of arousal.  The audacity of that woman!  He has work to do and now all he can think about is joining her on that bed and giving those breasts the attention they deserve.
With a blush, Steve flings the phone down without answering.  He needs to distract himself before he gets a hard-on and people start wondering where he is.  He gets dressed in record time, not wanting to fall to the temptation of returning to the bathroom for another quick, cold shower.  He doesn’t have time for that and besides, Bucky’s probably waiting for him.
He puts his phone in his pocket and steps out into the hall, trying not to linger on the sight of [Name] on that bed, looking up at the camera with that sultry, come-hither expression.
Bucky is waiting for him, and as Steve approaches he gives him a look.  “What took you so long?  Got chewed out by [Name]?”
Steve pauses, then chuckles.  In a manner of speaking, he did.  “Yeah, actually.”
Bucky sends him an I-told-you-so look and they amble down to the kitchen for that lunch.  They’re in the middle of making sandwiches when Steve’s phone goes off again.
He ignores it.  He’s not going to open that text up in front of Bucky.  But ignoring it has consequences because after a few minutes, he gets another one.  And another one.
Bucky looks a little suspicious, and he’s not the only one.  Tony, who’s waltzed into the kitchen a few moments after them, is staring at Steve with a curious look on his face.  That expression never bodes well.
It’s the usual lunch hour and the kitchen starts filling up as Natasha makes an appearance, followed by Bruce.  Clint is nowhere to be seen – small favors, really.
“So, Cap,” Tony drawls as another soft ping goes off.  “Your girl seems to be blowing up your phone.  Aren’t you gonna answer her?”
Steve sends him a glowering look and bites into his sandwich with vigor.
Tony smirks.  “There are only two reasons why a woman sends texts like that.  Either she’s furious, or she’s sending you dirty pictures.”
Steve immediately starts choking and Tony looks extremely triumphant.  Everyone else just looks vaguely intrigued – but not overly so.  Whether it’s because they’ve also gotten to know [Name] and aren’t surprised by her antics, or because it’s just a normal happening in this strange new century, Steve isn’t sure.  Bucky is the only one who looks taken aback.
“[Name] is sending you dirty pictures?” he asks, sounding slightly incredulous.  There’s an amused gleam in his eye though.  Probably due in part to the way his friend is going beet red.
“I’m not answering that,” Steve says staunchly.  He isn’t going to say a word about it.  It’s his business, not theirs.  He doesn’t kiss and tell. 
Bucky laughs.  Tony just sends Steve a shit-eating grin as another soft pinging sound alerts the room to an incoming text.
“Damn it,” he mutters in a rare display of language, and whips out his phone.  Everyone gravitates towards it so he stands up and sends them a glower.
“Don’t be like that, Gramps.  We all wanna see,” Tony says with a smirk. 
Steve sighs and mutters “I’m leaving.”
Tony laughs as he walks to the door.  “Enjoy your cold shower!”
The door slams shut behind him and Natasha rolls her eyes.
Meanwhile Steve is scrolling through the new texts with a growing wariness that comes entirely from the fact that every picture he sees shows less and less clothing.  As well as an increased amount of teasing and impatience for his silence.
‘I know you’re not that busy today.  You should be happy I’m such a good girlfriend.’
‘Oh and btw, these stockings are surprisingly comfortable by themselves.’
‘I’m also extremely horny now.  Should I wait for you or not?’
Steve stops walking when he reads that last one.  His pants suddenly feel incredibly tight.
“Shit,” he mutters, and scrolls down further to look at the latest picture.
This time there’s no robe.  One bra strap is falling down.  She’s still lying on the bed but the way she’s angled her phone showcases her arm, which is suspiciously trailing down her stomach.  He can only imagine where those fingers are right now and it’s making him feel slightly insane.
He still has several things to do today but that last picture makes his mind up for him.  He turns on his heel and all but jogs to the elevators, intent on reaching the garage as soon as possible.  The doors have just closed when yet another text comes through, and Steve grits his teeth as he opens it.  This time the message isn’t quite as amicable.
‘If you don’t respond, I’m going to send Tony something.’
He stares at it for one long second before frantically pulling up the keyboard and typing, ‘I’m leaving now and don’t you dare.’
She doesn’t respond and he decides to take it as a good thing.  As he gets into his car and pulls out of the garage, all he can think about is her touching herself as she waits for him.  He can’t get that last picture out of his head – the sight of her face, the melted expression and the parted lips…
He very nearly swears again when he misses the green light.
[Name] doesn’t live that far away from the Tower, but New York City traffic is abominable no matter what hour it is.  What normally takes fifteen minutes drags into twenty when a taxi cab cuts him off and he ends up having to stop for a group of pedestrians.  He’s practically steaming by the time he pulls into [Name]’s apartment complex and is thinking more about aggravating drivers than he is about her…until he enters the building and realizes that he’d gotten another text while he was driving.
He hadn’t noticed – he doesn’t look at his phone in the car.  He read a study a few months ago about how many deaths per year happen just because of innocent little text messages but – God, what is he even thinking right now?  He all but barges into the lobby and pulls open the text.
Then nearly trips over his own feet when he sees the message.
‘I’m almost there, hurry up and finish me off’, accompanied with the raciest picture yet.
This time the camera is angled downward, showing everything from the waist down.  The stockings are gone and her knees are up and parted.  He can see her hand at the apex of her thighs, and even though it’s covering everything it doesn’t matter.  His cock twitches to life and he barely manages to pull himself up the stairs.
He’s half hard by the time he reaches her door, and panting just a little because he decided against taking the elevator and he took the stairs two at a time.  It’s a good thing he’s in great shape because she lives on the seventh floor.  It’s also a good thing he knows her pass code by heart.
The door is slamming open within seconds and he’s barging into her room.
She lets out a surprised yelp when he makes his sudden and very forceful appearance at her bedroom door, but Steve can’t be bothered to apologize for catching her off guard.  If anyone’s been shell shocked, it’s him, and he’s more than ready to return the favor. 
[Name] looks up at him with wide eyes.  She’s right where she’d been in that last picture, one hand between her legs, panties nowhere in sight, and bra hanging off her frame.  She makes a pretty picture and he’d like to stop and admire her a moment, but to be honest, the thought of gawking at her doesn’t align with the desires that are currently tenting his pants up.
The determined look on his face reminds her of his expressions when he’s out on the field saving the country.  His jaw is clenched as if he’s holding back a wave of pain and his entire body looked tense and unyielding.  Perhaps that’s why, when he suddenly rocks forward to reach the bed, [Name] squeals and pushes away.
He doesn’t let her get very far.  Hooking his hands around her thighs, Steve drags her hips to the very edge of the mattress and kneels in front of her, wasting absolutely no time at all as he throws her legs over his shoulders and gets to work on her cunt.
And then he’s abruptly licking at her, fingers spreading her folds, daring his tongue over every inch of her very wet clit as [Name] drowns on the bed and moans his name.
“Steve – you’re acting a little – mmmph!” her back arches when she feels his finger thrust inside her with no warning.
What had she been trying to say?  She can’t remember.
He drags one of her folds into his mouth and scrapes his teeth over it, twists his finger inside her to rub against her sensitive inner walls, and growls, “There’s absolutely no way I’ll be able to take this slow, [Name], so you’d better be ready for me.”
She gapes at him and opens her mouth to complain (just for the fun of it, really; she utterly melts at those words - ), but when he suddenly adds another finger and starts lapping at the top of her clit with abandon, the only sound she can give is a long, drawn out moan that goes right to his cock.
“Fuck!” she hisses, throwing her head back and her breasts up.  She tries to rock her hips downward but Steve catches them at the last moment and all but slams her back to the bed.
If she’d known that this would be his reaction to sexting, she’d have damn well done it a long time ago.
“I’m gonna come – Steve!  STEVE!” she yells, nearly sobbing.  He doesn’t let up even for a moment.  If anything, he seems to go faster, thrusting his fingers harder and lapping more furiously as she bucks into his mouth.  Her orgasm shoots through her so recklessly that she forgets her own name.  She only knows one name and it becomes a repeated mantra as he devours her.
“Steve, Stevestevesteve – “
And then he’s standing up, pushing her hips down, reaching for his shirt.  She watches him with her mouth hanging open, completely unable to so much as move as he tears the shirt away and jerks his pants down.  His cock springs up into the air, hard and gleaming with precum and Jesus Christ she thinks she might come again just from the sight he makes as he props one knee onto the mattress.
His hands slide up her body.  Fingers make quick and almost ferocious work of her bra, all but tearing it from her chest.  He flings it over his shoulder with a glint in his eye that makes her shiver likecrazy and grapples with her legs.  A moment later, he’s hooking them around his waist and she feels his hard length sliding over her cunt and it feels so good that she moans again and arches into him.
“Fuck,” she whispers, staring up at him through blurry bedroom eyes.  Her voice is just as blurry, as if she’s at the bottom of the ocean and the world around her is a watery, quilted mess. 
“You must’ve really liked those pictures – fuck!” she moans, her words abruptly cut off when he lines himself up and pushes into her without a moment’s hesitation.  Fuckfuckfuck-
“Oh God yes!” she cries as he starts a fast pace, bucking into her so deeply that she can feel him hitting her womb.  He’s stretching her inner walls and feels so big inside her after her self-inflicted sexual frustrations that she really can’t help the way she reaches for him and starts rutting against him like a fucking wild animal.
Or should she say a wild fucking animal?  Or a – “Shit,” she sobs, because Steve is suddenly thrusting so quickly and deeply that she can’t even remember what she’d been thinking about before.
She can only think of him and the way he’s filling her up so perfectly and making her already sensitive flesh throb with the beginnings of another orgasm.
“I loved those pictures,” Steve suddenly growls into her ear, leaning forward and laying himself over her body.  He hooks his hands around her shoulders to hold her in place and pistons into her, using his momentum to fuck her – and what a good job he’s doing.  She’s never been fucked so thoroughly before, especially not by a super-human soldier who’s got more muscles than is evolutionarily fair.
Her fingers sink into his back, scratching at him like a wild cat, tossing her head back as he buries his face into her hair and nips at the top of her ear.
“Did you like…mm, sending them to me?” he asks.  He sounds only a little breathless.  Mostly his voice is just determined and tight, strained in a way that tells her how close he is to filling her up in more ways than he is currently doing.
[Name] moans loudly and cries, “Yes!  Yes, fuck yes, Steve!”
It had aroused her more than she’d like to admit, sending him all those pictures and dirty messages.  Just imaging his shocked and reluctantly pleased reaction to them had made her ridiculously horny.  But his actual reaction is so much better than any she had come up with in her mind.  This – the crazy, raw way he’s taking her right now easily surpasses any of her smutty little fantasies of him.  (And she’s got quite a lot of them.)
He groans, “Tell me how much you like me inside you.  Fucking you like this.  Tell me, [Name].”
Her eyes widen, fingers sinking further into his skin as she listens to his out-of-character dirty talk.  In all their previous encounters, he’s never said such dirty things to her.  She can only imagine that she’s unlocked some crazed, unheroic part of him today.  She decides that she quite likes it.
She likes it so much that she whimpers into his ear and obeys his every command as she moans, “I love it, love – mmm!  Love you inside me, love you fucking me – don’t stopdon’tstopdon’tstop-“
“Fuck, [Name],” he groans, thrusting hard inside her as her words force his orgasm to the surface.  He’s been holding back as long as he could but the sound of those pretty pleas leave his control in shambles.  He’s going to come.  He knows it can can’t possibly stop himself from tumbling forward on the mattress and practically tearing his hips into hers as he tilts over the edge.
“Steve!” she cries, eyes watering.  His pace is even more erratic, as is the look in his eyes as he bolts forward and comes.
She watches him through half lidded eyes and jerks in surprised arousal when she feels his fingers brushing firmly over her clit, wanting her to fall with him.  That little move of his does quick work on her and she’s soon bucking her hips just as furiously as her orgasm rushes through her.  His name fills her small bedroom, increasing in volume at every thrust, until she feels the heat of his finish fill her up.
He keeps thrusting, dragging her orgasm out just as perfectly as he did his own.  He watches her come with a hard gasp, choking on his name in the prettiest way as her eyes turn foggy and clouded.  And then he leans down to deposit and thorough kiss on her mouth, cock still inside her as he enjoys the way her inner walls spasm around his length.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” [Name] whispers against his lips.  Her eyes are starry and full of wonder when he opens his own and looks down at her.  A boyish smile flits over his face.
“Language,” he murmurs jokingly, and kisses her cheek before laying down beside her.  A moment later, Steve is dragging her body firmly against his, their legs halfway off the bed as they stare up at the ceiling in languid post-‘best-sex-ever’ bliss.
She grins and glances at him.  “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever had,” she says with a smirk.  He raises his eyebrows and gives a surprised laugh.
“Thanks?” he questions, not entirely sure what to say to such a compliment.  She wiggles her eyebrows at him and he laughs again, leaning over to kiss her.  His mouth is softer this time, gentler in a way it hadn’t been before, and she moans again. 
“Tell me you don’t have to go back to the Tower,” she pleads, nipping his bottom lip as her hands tumble up his gloriously bare torso.  She’d love to spend some time licking every muscle, biting and nipping at every inch of his skin.  If he leaves her now after that amazing sex, she thinks she might actually cry in frustration.
Steve is usually very strict with himself, but today is apparently an exception.  Before she’s even finished with her question, he’s flipping her back over and kissing down her neck, hands sliding over her body.  Against her skin, he growls, “I’m sure I can take one afternoon off in favor of giving my best girl some attention.”
[Name] moans and slips her fingers into his hair.
“Thank God,” she whispers, and grins giddily.  “I should send you dirty pictures every day.”
He chuckles, “If you do that, I’ll never get any work done.”
He licks at her breast and she breathes, “Mmm…exactly…”
Steve sends her a serious expression, but she can see the amusement that colors his eyes.  With a raised eyebrow, she pushes his head back to her breast in a silent demand.  He doesn’t complain as he starts kissing over her skin.
As he does, [Name] murmurs, “You know, proper etiquette dictates that you should’ve sent one of those dirty pictures back.”  She almost laughs out loud when his expression morphs into affronted incredulity.
“Send one back?” he repeats, lifting his head up to stare at her.
“Mmm…there’s still so much I have left to teach you,” she whispers and leans up to kiss his jaw.  The scrape of his stubble feels wonderful against her lips.
He gives her another look and grumbles at her before rolling forward to tickle her.  She squeals loudly and tries to bat his hands away, but he’s got that determined look on his face and she knows it’s a lost cause. 
…Which is probably just as well, because when his tickling turns into languid kisses and then into heady touches, she decides that lost causes are always the best anyhow.


Wednesday, September 28, 2016

A Frodo Baggins Lemon -- An Intermission

Character: Frodo Baggins

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings

OC: Melody, short black curly hair, tawny eyes

Inspiration: This was weirdly hard to write.  I hope Frodo is in character!  

He’s having another nightmare.  She almost doesn’t want to know what he is dreaming about, but it must be bad.  The way his expression melts into horror and grief says all that needs to be said.
He doesn’t have them as much these days, but every now and then Melody will wake up to Frodo writhing in the bed beside her.  Oftentimes he is clutching the blackened scar on his shoulder from where the Morgul blade pierced him.  His dreams of Weathertop are common, but not usually this intense.
“Frodo,” Melody whispers, placing a hand on his arm.  He flinches at the contact and she feels tears build in her eyes.  She feels so useless when he’s like this, lost in that sleepy nightmarish world.  She’s almost too afraid to touch, lest she incite some new, painful memory to add to the horrors.
“Frodo, wake up,” she says, a little louder.  She leans forward to brush his hair out of his eyes and kisses his forehead.  “Wake up,” she says again, as if she’s hoping that by ordering him, he will immediately obey.
He doesn’t, but after another moment, Frodo gasps and sits up, his eyes wide and frantic as he searches the room for traces of black robed Nazgul.  But all he sees is gentle sunlight streaming in from the open windows, and it seems to quell his racing thoughts.
Melody sighs and reaches for his hand.  He turns to her wordlessly, sees the disheveled look on her face, and sighs too.  A moment later he’s lying back down and bringing her against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, and she shakes her head.
“Don’t apologize,” she tells him, kissing his chin.  “I just wish I could stop those dreams from ever reaching you at all.  It’s been years…yet they still hurt you.”
The dreams aren’t the only hurtful things.  Sometimes he gets this faraway look on his face and stares off into the distance, as if he is reliving some memory that makes him sad.  Sometimes he smiles when he does this, but there is still a trace of grief touching his eyes – a melancholy nostalgia that she cannot heal.  And some days he is in physical pain, and the scar aches so badly that she fears he might never be rid of its evil.  Those days are the worst of them all.
He rubs at the scar and she knows that today will be one of those days.  Which is why she hooks her legs over his and shuffles on top of him.
He looks up at her with surprised eyes, hesitance curling his gaze.  When she leans down to kiss him, the hesitance clears away, partially – he could never deny her his affections.  It is an impossibility that he can’t even consider.  So he kisses her back, and when her fingers start unbuttoning his nightshirt, Frodo pulls away to murmur, “Mel – “
“Shh,” she interrupts, pressing a kiss to the revealed skin of his chest.  She shifts against him and goes to lavish attention on his neck, kissing and nipping at the exposed flesh.  He doesn’t argue again; just lays there and wraps her up in his arms.
He’s never been good at denying her this, either.
“You’re very lucky that I know a way to get rid of nightmares,” Melody tells him with a cheeky grin.  Despite the serious atmosphere that had plagued them moments before, Frodo finds himself chuckling and letting her drag the sheets away from them.  She pulls his shirt away with a quick efficiency that he finds amusing, simply because of how determined her expression is.  He knows that she’s doing this for him and he feels his heart warm at the thought.  The rest of his body follows suit beneath the heated look she sends him.
He sits up, shuffling back into the pillows.  Melody draws away briefly to tug her nightdress off of her.  The clothing gets tossed over the mattress and disappears from his line of sight – not that he looks for it.  He’s a little preoccupied by the picture she makes as she sits above him, completely bare.
For a moment he just takes her in.  Her breasts are the perfect size (though perhaps he’s being biased), nipples taut from the chill of the morning, skin glowing in the beams of sunlight that shoot generously from the three round windows on the other side of the room.  She’s gorgeous in the sunlight and Frodo can’t help but wonder what on earth she’s doing with him.
It’s no secret that the other Hobbits in Hobbiton think he’s very odd and unnatural – and that’s only a small portion of the Shire.  Yet for some reason he’s lucky enough to be able to wake up next to her every morning, to share meals with her, to love her.  Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.
Melody tsks and leans in, laying her hands on either side of his face.  “There’ll be no dark thoughts this morning, Frodo Baggins.  Not on my watch.”  The stern look she sends him makes him chuckle again.
How she can read him so easily, he’ll never know, but he doesn’t have time answer anyhow – when she leans forward even more to kiss him, Frodo loses all coherent thought.
He can feel her breasts pillow against him and it sends a sharp curl of desire through him.  He feels himself harden from that simple touch alone and kisses her back with an eagerness that makes her moan.  The little sound of pleasure makes his desire all the worse, especially when Melody suddenly grinds down against his half hard length.  He feels her slide over him, wet with her own arousal, and every trace of dark brooding thoughts leave him.
“Mmm…that’s better,” she whispers, nipping at his lip.  She pulls it into her mouth and sucks gently at him before sliding her tongue over his.  Frodo wraps his hands around her, stroking them up and down her bare form as she rocks softly against him, keening every now and then.  And with every soft shift, his patience wears thin.
“Mel…” he groans, head falling back.  His eyes dart down to their lower bodies, the way she glides over his length, coating him with her arousal.  He’s already aching for her and he’s a little surprised about that.  But she had the startling ability to make him want her in the most inconvenient moments, and his surprise doesn’t extend very far.  His control is already churning with reckless passion and it’s all he can think about, all he can feel as she kisses over his shoulder and leans down to take his length into her hand.
“Mel,” he groans again, this time full of a different kind of surprise, because he hadn’t expected her to be so forward and yet – yet – “Mmm…” he murmurs, head falling back and eyes closing as she pumps him through her fingers.
It feels so good that he can’t remember what had gotten them into this situation in the first place.  His eyes flutter open after a few moments because he needs to watch her, he can’t explain it but he needs to see her hand against him.  And the pleasure that shoots through him at the sight is well worth it, because he’s never known anything quite as arousing.
Her fingers drift over him, curling up the underside and tracing the visible veins that edge just beneath the surface.  Her touch is gentle but firm, sometimes feathery light and other times not so gentle at all.  But it’s all perfect and Frodo looks up to catch her eye, which is directed at his face.  She gives him a small smile and he groans again before saying, “I need you.”
Such a simple set of words, but so profound that it takes her breath away.  And funny, too, because Frodo really does need her – not only right now, but in every other way imaginable.  He couldn’t picture his life without her in it.  Without her soft smiles and her cheeky words and the way she eats just as much as him and might actually rival his ‘odd unnatural curiosity’.  She is always there to give him everything he needs and right now is no different. 
She doesn’t hesitate as she guides him inside her and wriggles her hips down to his.  Frodo watches every move she makes with sharp eyes, and when he’s hilted inside her, he tugs her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she starts to rock into him.
She buries her head into his shoulder and moans, tangling her fingers into his curly hair as she feels him breach her inner walls.  There’s an easy naturalness to their lovemaking that seems to transcend every other emotion, and she thinks that she’s never complete unless he’s inside her. 
He tugs her head back to kiss her, mouth melding with hers as his hips rock upward to meet hers.  Their hands are everywhere – skimming down flesh and clutching shoulders as if to ground each other somehow.  Frodo doesn’t think it works; each thrust has him spiraling further from reality and deeper into the calm satiation of his own internal dialogue.
“Frodo,” she moans, muffled against his lips.  At this point they aren’t even really kissing, just exchanging air as their mouths brush together.  It’s beautifully intimate in a way she can’t describe and isn’t sure she wants to.  So instead she turns all her attention on him and the way he’s making her feel and the way she wants him to feel, too – high like there’s no nightmarish memories holding him down.
She thinks she’s succeeding when he suddenly groans loudly and clutches her waist with tight fingers, pulling her down into a thrust that makes the edges of her vision fade.  She keeps that pace, bucking hard with every downward spin of her hips, taking him deeper and deeper and watching him closely for any sign of his unfolding finish.
It comes not long after, when she grinds down against him and circles her hips in an almost teasing fashion.  Frodo’s expression tightens at the feeling and he groans again, this time sounding breathless with need.  She knows he’s close, knows it like she intrinsically knows her own name or the color of the sky at dawn or when it’s time to sit down for tea – all inconsequential things really, in the face of all this beautiful desire.
“Frodo, touch me,” she moans, nibbling at his ear.  She wants to come with him, wants their orgasms to meld together. 
The low tumble of her words have him groaning again, and at first he doesn’t know what she’s asking because he’s so caught up in what he’s feeling.  But when she takes his hand from its place around her waist and moves it between her legs, his confusion flies away.
He touches her, firmly circling her nub with his thumb and watching with an awed expression as she reacts to him.
“Mmm, that’s right, keep going – Frodo!” she gasps.  Her hips shake forward more forcefully, bucking into him with a raw passion that has him gasping her name.  His orgasm unfurls inside him that the sight and feel of her, and when he feels her inner walls contracting around him it’s the final straw.
He spills himself into her with a moan, grappling with her hips and pulling her down hard against him, bucking his own up and meeting her halfway in a firm, almost bruising thrust.  And all the while he keeps coaxing her forward, fingers splaying out against the top of her clit as her own orgasm rather catches her off guard.
It comes so suddenly that she cries out, eyes watering at the wild, uncontrollable sensation.  Her movements turn unabashedly fierce, as if she can’t possibly help herself.  It’s wonderful, beautiful – watching her come is the best part of making love to her and he doesn’t look away from her face as she murmurs his name again and again.
A few more thrusts and she quiets down, still gasping but not as ferociously.  Her chest heaves and she curls forward to rest her face against his shoulder.  And he brings her close, still buried inside her even as their bodies slowly still.
She gently drifts back into reality as he combs his fingers through her hair.  With a tired, bleary chuckle, Melody breathes, “That was wonderful.”
Frodo laughs too, because while he agrees with her, he’s not sure he’d use that particular word to describe what they’ve just done.  She gives him a giddy smile and kisses his shoulder.
“I like your methods,” he murmurs to her, lips brushing over her temple.  She giggles.
“Does it still ache?” she wonders quietly, at once looking a touch more serious.  She touches the wound on his shoulder and leans down to kiss that, too, just for good measure.
If their lovemaking hadn’t made him feel well-loved, that little action certainly does, and Frodo sighs out in gentle happiness when he realizes that his old wound doesn’t ache anymore.  She’s healed him, at least for today, and he’s more grateful for it than he can say.
“Can’t even feel it,” he mumbles sleepily, and shuffles them down, rolling onto her side and reaching for their blankets.
As he pulls them over them, Melody jokes, “Back to bed?  What will our judgmental neighbors say?” 
He gives a little smirk and pulls her against him, tangling their legs together before he whispers, “I don’t think I really care what they say, do you?”
The look he’s giving her makes her toes curl.  She bites her lip and smiles.
“…I don’t think I do, either,” she murmurs to him, and leans in to kiss him.
Frodo groans against her lips and breathes, “Good.” 
And it’s all very good – so good in fact that they completely miss elevenses and are thirty minutes late for lunch.


Sunday, September 25, 2016

A Jasper Hale Lemon -- Blue Sunset

Character: Jasper Hale

Fandom: Twilight

OC: Melody Lexington, biracial, brown eyes, curly hair, bubbly and sarcastic

Inspiration: Because Jasper is probably better than both Edward and Jacob put together.  Actually this isn't even debatable.  Anyway I finally have some smut for Twilight yay.  I'm thinking I need something for Emmett and Carlisle now... ;3

It’s been a long time since she’s spent the entire day in bed.  She’s forgotten how extraordinarily wonderful it is to lie out on the crisp sheets and have her lover idle his way over her body.  She hasn’t forgotten how much she loves it though.  He hasn’t, either.
“Your emotions are going crazy,” he murmurs against the crease of Melody’s neck, inhaling her scent as if he’s absorbing every shard of emotive energy running through her veins.  She hums and lets her hands drift over his bare form, skimming down his chest and thumbing over the sharp hipbones that jut up against his skin.  Jasper exhales slowly as she does and leans back to look at her.  His golden eyes look particularly beautiful in the light of the setting sun.
She quirks her mouth up and murmurs, “I wonder why.”  She supposes it’s really not that difficult to feel crazy (and giddy and happy and relaxed) when he’s hovering over her recently sated body, eyes flashing like he wants to keep satisfying her over and over and over…
He smiles back and chuckles.  “This was a good idea.  We should leave town more often.”  Then he rolls onto his back and drags her on top of him, hooking her knee over his legs as he does.
She hums in agreement, presses open mouthed kisses over the pale, crescent shaped scars on his shoulder, and whispers, “I’m sure the others are just as happy to be rid of us.  We do tend to make a lot of noise.”  She giggles and he squeezes her hip playfully.
Their brief getaway from Forks has done wonders for them already, despite it being a very short one month vacation.  (Very short for them, naturally.)  The constant drama with Bella and Edward and their new daughter has certainly taken its toll on the family, in good and bad ways.  Good, because Renesmee is a lovely child and Edward has stopped sulking and bemoaning his eternal bachelor status.  Bad, because with all the drama (and having a vampire hybrid child in the house), Jasper and Melody’s sex life has taken a sharp downward spiral.
(Something that the others have been no doubt enjoyed, but it’s only made her more moody.  Her libido is very high.)
After a while, Edward apparently got so sick of having to listen to the couple’s sex-deprived thoughts that he practically forced them to take a vacation and get out of the house for a while.  So really, it’s a win-win for all of them.  Edward doesn’t have to listen to Jasper’s thoughts of where he wants to take Melody next, and Melody gets to lay in bed all day long and have her body properly worshipped like she deserves.  It can’t get any better than this.
She hums when she feels Jasper’s hand slide down her hip and trace patterns against her inner thigh.  The move definitely catches her attention and she sends him a leering smirk that he laughs at.  The one good thing about being a vampire is the fact that Jasper has an inhuman recovery rate.  Which she happens to be very thankful of, because she could go all night and never get tired of him.  (Or in this case, all day.)
“It’s our last day here,” she murmurs quietly, her mouth still quirked up in that smirk.  The mischief in her eyes makes them shine like molten gold.  Jasper watches them carefully as he props himself up on his elbow and looks down at her. 
He raises an eyebrow and smirks back.  “So…we should probably take full advantage of it, right?” he asks, shucking her leg up higher before twisting his hand down to grasp her ass.
Melody hums in agreement.  “Quite right.  And this time I want to take you like this.”  She lifts herself up and settles down in his lap, feeling his already hardening erection press against her rear.  He chuckles darkly.
“In my time, people would call you a floozie,” he jokes, tucking his hands beneath her thighs and heaving her closer to him.  She wrinkles her nose at the word and huffs.
“Yeah?  Well these days it’s called being an empowered woman who knows what she wants,” Melody purrs, leaning forward and shuffling her hips against his.  She watches his reaction with a smirk, noting the shiver that spins down his spine and the way his fingers tense against her skin. 
Jasper tilts his head back and closes his eyes, swallowing tightly when she starts grinding down against him. 
“Never said there was anything wrong with that,” he mutters.  His hands slide up her body and he shivers again when Melody presses her bare chest against his.  She tangles her fingers into his wavy hair and crashes her mouth against his.  As always, he meets her half way, kissing her back with a vengeance as if he’s merely been waiting for her to act. 
It’s all fangs and tongue, brutal in a way that’s made purely of a particular brand of breathless desire.  It hangs above them as if it’s part of the spiraling weave of dimming sunlight that filters into the room and gets under their skin in the most wistfully intense manner.  She can hardly describe it, hardly understand – words were never her strong point, but she sinks into him anyway because sometimes, words aren’t necessary anyhow.
Jasper reads her like a book without a summary, skimming his hands up and down her body as he constantly takes in her silent waves of passion.  When he nips at her lower lip, Melody moans and clutches his hair tighter, grinding her hips down against his in payback.
He growls and the sound sends a flurry of instinctual need down her body.  He kisses her like he’s never wanted to kiss anyone quite so badly in his very long life, and she loves every second of his desperate fiery desire as he presses it into hers.  Moments like these, she barely remembers that he can do that – mold his emotions with hers, send her toppling over with the full brunt of his passion.  It feels so much like her own that the naturalness of it takes her breath away.  They’re two sides of the same coin; a mirror image of intense frenzy.
“Mm – that’s not fair, Jazz,” she groans as she feels her desire abruptly skyrocket in an almost fabricated way.  It’s not fabricated; it’s just not entirely hers.  Or at least it hadn’t been before she’d felt it.  Her body is suddenly on fire, aching all the way down to her toes.  The arousal that he’s sharing with her is a fluttery mess of desire and hungry need, and she suddenly can’t think of anything except pulling him inside her to sate the fast burning pulse of desire.
He has the gall to look innocently confused, but she can see the mischief behind his golden eyes even when he quite skillfully wonders, “What’s not fair?”
He smirks and spreads her ass, drifting his hand down the crevice to trace over her folds.  She’s dripping wet – undoubtedly a result of both her own natural desire for him (which is always there, lurking in the back of her mind), and his own particular talents making her body go haywire. 
He’s pulled this trick before and she doesn’t really mind.  She loves to feel what he feels; to know the full extent of his passion and what she does to him.  She just likes to have a little warning before he unleashes his emotive power on her.  Not that she’s going to complain, of course.  To be honest, all she wants to do right now is fuck him so hard he’ll see stars.  (And her, too, if she’s lucky.)
Melody moans and hovers close to his face, lips brushing over his as her expression tumbles into melted need.  He watches her closely as his fingers stroke her cunt.  When he flicks over the nub at the top of her clit, she feels a burst of powerful, curdling hunger and he smiles because he feels it too, drifting from her skin into his.
Sex with Jasper Hale is never boring, at least.
“Your emotions are all on fire,” he whispers, almost in wonderment despite the fact that they’ve danced with dance before and it shouldn’t surprise him so much.  But it always does, these feelings, her love for him coming forth in physical form.  It never fails to amaze him in the best possible way.
As he slides two fingers inside her, he breathes, “It’s like you’re burning.  Are those your emotions or mine?” 
The question hangs in the air for a moment as Melody groggily shifts through his words.  It’s a bit hard to pay attention when he’s thrusting his fingers inside her like that, rubbing against her inner walls and twisting a messy orgasm into existence at the back of her mind.  Somehow she manages to hear him though, and against his neck she moans, “Ours – mmm…they’re ours.”
And they’re spinning together in a cocktail of undecipherable lust. 
Jasper chuckles throatily and leans down to kiss her neck.  His sharp teeth drift over her skin and, when he sinks them gently into the crease of her shoulder, she keens and rocks her hips down, taking his fingers deeper inside her.  The move very nearly makes him lose his self control, which is already indulgently frayed from spending the afternoon between these sheets.
He’s never had very good control anyhow and Melody likes to see it break.  She wriggles her hips against his fingers again and moans louder – a drawn out sound that edges into his name, with a generous ‘fuck yes’ attached to the end.  It’s enough to leave Jasper feeling more than a little out of control, and this time he acts on it.
She’s flat on her back within seconds, and he’s filling her up before she can even orient herself to the sudden change in position.  She catches on quick though – it’s impossible not to when he’s thrusting into her with that reckless wanton need – and Melody arches into him with a hissing keen that sounds half delirious, half pleased.
“Fuck Jasper!” she groans, nails scratching their way down his back as he hovers over her.  His hands are hot against her hips and he drags them forcibly against him, bucking into her like it’s the only thing he knows how to do.  The way his hips piston into hers leaves her ragged and she drowns into the mattress with a sharp cry as he breaches her in all the right places.
He groans, coming down onto his elbows.  One hand remains poised at her hip as he shucks her forward, encouraging her to meet his thrusts.  She does, hips bucking frantically as she tries to take him as deeply as possible.  His teeth bear down to her neck again, scraping at the skin but not breaking it.  It sends thrills down her spine when she feels his fangs against her, and she looks down at the mass of dark blonde curls that her fingers are currently gripping. 
She throws her head back and exposes the graceful arch of her neck to him, thoroughly enjoying the way his lips immediately caress every inch of it.  When he licks her pulse point and murmurs, “That it, darlin’,” against her, Melody clenches down on him harder and he groans.
One other good thing about vampires: they’re really fast.  His hips move so quickly that Melody barely gets a break before he’s slamming into her once more.  His cock drags back, the tip remaining buried just inches inside her folds, and then he pounds forward with a force that, had she been a breakable human, would have left Melody with a broken pelvis.
But she’s not a fragile human; she’s a vampire capable of meeting Jasper halfway in the bedroom and today, she’s not about to ignore her own strength. 
She hooks her leg around him and flips him over on his backward thrust, pushing him so hard into the mattress that he lets out a surprise ‘omph!’ and rips the sheet he’d been gripping near her head.  His cock slides out of her but remains rigid as she slowly meanders over his form – too slowly, she knows as his eyes flashes dangerous up at her from the halo of his curls.  He growls.  She just raises an eyebrow and crawls into his lap.
“Couldn’t keep up?” he snarks in a rare display of sarcasm.  Melody purrs at the sight of him and doesn’t complain when he grabs her hips and shucks her against his length.  She wants him inside of her again, and she’d be blind and stupid not to see how badly he wants to sink into her too – but she wants to do it her way this time.  A little bedroom dominance never hurt anyone.
“Let’s see if you can keep up,” she murmurs, eyes narrowing into a maelstrom of desire and danger.  He smirks and watches her line his cock up and sink down on him.  The feel of her tight heat surrounding him is exquisite and he immediately tries to buck up and push his length further inside her.  But Melody only hums and lifts her hips to stop his rebellious move.  He scowls at her.
“I’m not in the mood for teasing, Mel,” he growls, gripping her hips with a force that should have left dark bruises on her skin.  It’s a good thing she’s resilient.  He looks perfectly dangerous and seconds away from rolling her over and fucking her like he’d done before, so she gives in.
She rocks down on his cock and takes all of him in one sudden thrust, leaving him groaning deeply and squeezing her hips harder.  Barely a moment passes before she’s thrusting back, dragging him out of her and then – forward again, until he’s hilted balls deep and Melody is setting a pace just as furious as his.
She wonders if they look like rutting wild animals.  That’s what she feels like as she throws herself against him, hands on his chest for leverage, and bucks her hips relentless against his.  Beneath her, Jasper’s expression is tight and loose at the same time – a perfect clash of warring emotions that always means he’s trying to hold back his orgasm.  She loves that expression.  Loves the fact that he’s trying to hold out for her.  But what she really loves?  When he comes without meaning to and she gets to watch every single desire pass over his face as she drags his finish out for him.
She leans down and bites at his chest, trailing her mouth over the scars that litter his skin.  It’s an intimate area for him – both emotionally and physically – and he groans and cups her head when she nips gently at the pale marks.  Then, tearing her mouth to his neck and biting at his jaw, she growls, “Come on, Jazz…fuck me harder…mmm, that’s right…”
He bucks hard upward and she moans.  There’s a tight look in his eyes when he catches hers.  He knows exactly what she’s trying to do, talking like that, and his eyes narrow.  When he keeps bucking hard against her, Melody’s not entirely sure if he’s trying to make her pay for trying to push his orgasm faster, or if it’s because he genuinely can’t help himself.
Naturally she needs to find out.  Her curiosity is ravenous.
She threads her hands into his hair and pulls it, watching his eyes flutter and feeling his fingers fluctuate against her hips.  With a moan that makes him shiver, she breathes, “Feels so good inside me…fuck, that’s good – Jasper – “
He suddenly thunders upright into a sitting position and growls, “Good girls shouldn’t say such dirty things, darlin’.”  He scoops one arm around her hips and reaches up to clutch at her breast before ducking his head down to suck at it.  He lets her keep the pace though, and she doesn’t disappoint as she rocks her hips in time with his.
Melody groans and bites his ear, “I don’t want to be a good girl; it just want you to come inside me and fill me up.” 
The groan he lets out when he hears her is so enticing that she feels her own orgasm lick at the edges of her vision.  The uncontrollable way Jasper suddenly twists them around and pushes her into the edge of the mattress should be warning enough for his orgasm.  Her loud moan as he bucks into her warns him too.  His final thrusts are so powerful and deep that he actually shifts the bed several inches before coming with a growl, fisting the sheets near her hips so hard that he can feel the threads break.
“Fuck,” Melody moans when he finally stills, her face buried against his neck.  After a moment, Jasper gives a long exhale and shifts her into his arms, laying her onto the mattress before following her down.  The sunlight has dimmed and they lie together in a pool of it for a few minutes before Melody turns and catches his eye.
“Well,” she grins, looking perfectly satiated and very pleased.  Jasper laughs at the sight and rests his arms behind his head and a boyish smile.
“Well,” he responds, as if they haven’t just had the best sex she can remember and left the bed in tatters.
“We’ll probably have to pay for this,” she murmurs, feeling several of the holes in the sheets before turning to Jasper with a purring smirk.  He watches her carefully, looking like a chiseled God stretched out like that, all his perfect skin on display.  He wears nudity very well, she notes, and slides a hand down his chest.
“…Sometimes I think you have a stronger sex drive than I do,” he mutters, but ultimately doesn’t stop her as she wraps her fingers around his cock and starts pumping it in her hands.  He feels himself harden in her grasp and hums when he watches her sit up and kiss his hip.  So she wants to play it this way?
Melody gives him a mischievous smirk and responds, “Today’s our last day.  We have to make the most of it.”
Jasper only groans as he feels her mouth slide down his length.  He suddenly doesn’t have the words to answer her.  He doubts very much that she minds.
Third good thing about being a vampire: they don’t have to sleep.  As late afternoon turns to evening and then night, they continue to make love and let time skip along without them.