Fic: All is Violent, All is Bright 11/11
Title: All is Violent, All is Bright 11/11
Author: sparrow_hubris
Team: ANGST
Prompt: innocence
Word count: 1,284 this part
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (This part NC-17)
Warnings: Underage 15/17, Apocalypse & general destruction, Violence, Mentions of death, violence towards animals (hunting: prev parts )
Betas: night_reveals
Notes: So this chapter was waiting art, but unfortunately the art was delayed. It will be added when it is finished!!!
Summary: Apocalypse AU / a.k.a bb!Survival / a.k.a. cockblockalypse!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Also available on AO3
____
Arthur wakes to light kisses trailing down the sensitive skin of his stomach. He’s ticklish and the muscles of his abdomen twitch as butterfly-soft pressure moves over them. Sighing with residual sleepiness, Arthur arches into the press of lips, stretching his back up off the bed and loosening his muscles.
When he yawns, a tongue slides into his mouth, interrupting it and stealing his breath. He deepens the kiss, searching with his own tongue, exploring over teeth and soft palate until he needs oxygen more than he can stand.
“Good morning,” Arthur says, smiling as he pushes Eames away.
Eames is propped on one arm above him, smiling down. “Good morning,” he says in a sleep or arousal roughened voice.
The gruffness of it makes Arthur’s cock witch and he raises a hand to brush disorderly tufts of hair from Eames’ face. Eames bends down to steal another kiss as his hand splays over Arthur’s side, massaging absently as his tongue searches the depths of Arthur’s mouth.
Eames shifts his hips, pressing into Arthur and eliciting a throaty moan in reaction. Arthur can feel Eames grin against his lips. Eames rolls his hips again, applying sweet pressure to Arthur’s morning erection which makes Arthur moan in response. He thrusts his own hips off the bed as much as he can against Eames’ weight.
“How did you get so heavy?” Arthur gasps when he sucks in a breath of air.
“You love it,” Eames responds.
He seals his lips over Arthur’s again, shutting him up. The kissing turns more urgent as they grind themselves together. Finally Arthur can’t take it anymore; he breaks the kiss, murmuring, “Eames, please,” into the small gap between their lips.
Eames growls against him, leveling one last peck to Arthur’s lips before he moves lower, biting and sucking at his neck, the dip of his collarbone, his nipple, his navel, and the juncture of his hip. Arthur gasps and writhes, sensitive and ticklish to Eames’ attention.
Eames sucks him into his mouth and Arthur’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s overwhelmed with the slick, wet suction around his cock. He must make a noise because he feels Eames laugh around him, sending vibrations down the length of his erection to settle at the base. Eames continues to suck, picking up the pace only to slow it down, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head of Arthur’s prick before engulfing him down to the base again.
Arthur can feel the pressure build, can feel his balls draw up in anticipation. “Eames,” he chokes out. “I don’t think … I’m not going to last. Please.”
Eames dips down one last time, pressing his tongue along the veins of Arthur’s shaft before he pulls off with a wet pop. Instead of coming up for another kiss like Arthur expects, Eames spreads Arthur’s legs farther, pushing them back and up. It forces Arthur’s hips up and off the bed. Arthur groans when he feels Eames’ tongue lick a wet stripe up from his tailbone to his balls. Eames sucks at the base of his cock before dipping back down to swirl around the sensitive ring of his asshole.
“Ah … ah,” is all Arthur can manage to articulate as Eames works him over. Eames’ tongue presses in firmly, urging Arthur to relax. Eames backs off, licking lines over the twitching muscle before poking back in.
It seems like an eternity of teasing, licking, sucking before Arthur finally feels the press of a slicked finger slipping inside of him. He is so loose that there is nearly no resistance at all, and he whimpers because it’s not enough. Looking down between his own legs, Arthur finds Eames staring up at him, smiling fondly, wickedly, and possessively. Arthur vaguely wonders how Eames can fit all of those emotions in to one expression. He can’t think on it long because Eames is adding another finger, slipping it in to stretch him more.
It’s still not enough. Arthur is ready and he wants more. Looking down at Eames again, he tries to form words around his tongue that has become too thick and heavy in his own mouth. “Eames, enough,” he finally manages. “I … ah … ah … I need. I need more.”
Eames, the bastard, is tonguing the stretch of Arthur’s muscle around his fingers. His other had cups over Arthur’s cock and Arthur attempts to push up into it, demanding more pressure. Eames relents, pulling his fingers free which makes Arthur shudder. His hole grasps, twitches with loss.
Eames licks at his own palm, applying as much spit as possible before wrapping his hand around his own cock. He reaches for the bottle of lube they have and pours just enough straight unto Arthur’s hole. Arthur watches as Eames lines himself up before pressing in slowly. The slide is delicious and Arthur hums his approval, bearing down to let Eames sink in with one smooth stroke.
Eames’ eyes flutter shut and he lets out a little gasped curse. He stays still for a moment, letting Arthur adjust, before he falls forward. He catches himself on his arm just before he can crush Arthur with his weight. Capturing Arthur’s mouth in another kiss, Eames begins to rock slowly, sliding in and out of Arthur at an excruciatingly slow pace.
It’s lazy, and wonderful, and perfect. Arthur wants it to never end; he wants Eames to fuck him all day, slowly. But the pressure, the need to come builds until he can’t take it anymore and he reaches behind Eames’ legs, grabbing at his ass and urging for a quicker pace.
Eames thrusts harder, his panting leaving Arthur’s neck wet and hot. Arthur turns his head to the side, to capture the lobe of Eames’ ear between his teeth. Every time Eames pushes in, Arthur lets out a little whimper of pleasure, of encouragement. He’s close, so close, but his cock is trapped between his stomach and Eames with not enough friction to bring him to climax.
He reluctantly releases Eames’ ear and pushes him up a little to grab at his own prick. He tugs lightly at it as Eames continues to drive into him. Eames looks down at him fiercely, lost in the pleasure of the moment. It’s a feral look which causes Arthur to bite down on his lip instinctively. Eames snaps his hips harder and wraps his own hand around Arthur’s cock, jerking in sync with Arthur’s own hand.
Eames’ pace falters and the muscles in his face lock up for a brief moment before going slack as he shouts over his orgasm. Arthur can feel the hot spill of Eames’ come inside him. Eames tries to keep the pace, pushing through his oversensitivity to fuck Arthur into orgasm, but he can’t. Arthur stops him with a touch to his thigh. Eames reluctantly pulls out, but grabs Arthur’s wrist, removing Arthur’s grip on his own cock. He bends down and sucks at Arthur again as he slips two fingers into Arthur’s wet asshole.
Arthur moans without reserve, loud and strained and needy. Eames searches inside him, trying to find his prostate, but Arthur is coming from the grip of Eames’ throat and the press of his lips around his cock, before Eames can find it. Arthur shudders as Eames drinks his come and laps at his dick.
He smiles before he comes back up to kiss Arthur, wiping his hand on a scrap of cloth they keep beside the bed. Eames uses the cloth to clean Arthur up, wiping and kissing intermittently. When he’s done he flops down beside Arthur and sighs happily.
“We doing this today? Or are we putting it off again?”
Arthur smiles, and turns to look at Eames. He strokes a hand down Eames’ sweat dampened skin. “No, the weather is good. Today is good.”
It’s been a year since Arthur went looking for Eames. A year since his injury and the strained confession of feelings. It has not been easy. Eames still has a hard time sharing his past, but they work through it. Arthur hasn’t found anything about Eames that he could hate him for, and he doesn’t understand why Eames is still so reluctant to share. But every time Eames does, it gets easier.
It’s amazing too, so amazing, because every day Arthur wakes to Eames by his side. He’s able to reach out and touch, to kiss Eames the way he wants. He can stare all he wants, without having to feel bad about it anymore. They do everything together, and it works, because they work well together.
But a year means that their supplies have run low. The city is picked over and as much as they’ve tried, they haven’t been able to grow enough of a garden to support themselves. They’ve saved as many portable things they can, and have decided to head south. Maybe they will run into populated territory; they don’t know. But at least the weather will be better. They’ll be able to live if they can grow things, or if they can find another city that isn’t empty of food.
Arthur must be making a face again, because Eames reaches over to brush the hair from his eyes. “It’ll be okay,” he says.
“I know,” Arthur answers, and he smiles. He knows everything will be alright.
Author: sparrow_hubris
Team: ANGST
Prompt: innocence
Word count: 1,284 this part
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (This part NC-17)
Warnings: Underage 15/17, Apocalypse & general destruction, Violence, Mentions of death, violence towards animals (hunting: prev parts )
Betas: night_reveals
Notes: So this chapter was waiting art, but unfortunately the art was delayed. It will be added when it is finished!!!
Summary: Apocalypse AU / a.k.a bb!Survival / a.k.a. cockblockalypse!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Also available on AO3
____
Arthur wakes to light kisses trailing down the sensitive skin of his stomach. He’s ticklish and the muscles of his abdomen twitch as butterfly-soft pressure moves over them. Sighing with residual sleepiness, Arthur arches into the press of lips, stretching his back up off the bed and loosening his muscles.
When he yawns, a tongue slides into his mouth, interrupting it and stealing his breath. He deepens the kiss, searching with his own tongue, exploring over teeth and soft palate until he needs oxygen more than he can stand.
“Good morning,” Arthur says, smiling as he pushes Eames away.
Eames is propped on one arm above him, smiling down. “Good morning,” he says in a sleep or arousal roughened voice.
The gruffness of it makes Arthur’s cock witch and he raises a hand to brush disorderly tufts of hair from Eames’ face. Eames bends down to steal another kiss as his hand splays over Arthur’s side, massaging absently as his tongue searches the depths of Arthur’s mouth.
Eames shifts his hips, pressing into Arthur and eliciting a throaty moan in reaction. Arthur can feel Eames grin against his lips. Eames rolls his hips again, applying sweet pressure to Arthur’s morning erection which makes Arthur moan in response. He thrusts his own hips off the bed as much as he can against Eames’ weight.
“How did you get so heavy?” Arthur gasps when he sucks in a breath of air.
“You love it,” Eames responds.
He seals his lips over Arthur’s again, shutting him up. The kissing turns more urgent as they grind themselves together. Finally Arthur can’t take it anymore; he breaks the kiss, murmuring, “Eames, please,” into the small gap between their lips.
Eames growls against him, leveling one last peck to Arthur’s lips before he moves lower, biting and sucking at his neck, the dip of his collarbone, his nipple, his navel, and the juncture of his hip. Arthur gasps and writhes, sensitive and ticklish to Eames’ attention.
Eames sucks him into his mouth and Arthur’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s overwhelmed with the slick, wet suction around his cock. He must make a noise because he feels Eames laugh around him, sending vibrations down the length of his erection to settle at the base. Eames continues to suck, picking up the pace only to slow it down, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head of Arthur’s prick before engulfing him down to the base again.
Arthur can feel the pressure build, can feel his balls draw up in anticipation. “Eames,” he chokes out. “I don’t think … I’m not going to last. Please.”
Eames dips down one last time, pressing his tongue along the veins of Arthur’s shaft before he pulls off with a wet pop. Instead of coming up for another kiss like Arthur expects, Eames spreads Arthur’s legs farther, pushing them back and up. It forces Arthur’s hips up and off the bed. Arthur groans when he feels Eames’ tongue lick a wet stripe up from his tailbone to his balls. Eames sucks at the base of his cock before dipping back down to swirl around the sensitive ring of his asshole.
“Ah … ah,” is all Arthur can manage to articulate as Eames works him over. Eames’ tongue presses in firmly, urging Arthur to relax. Eames backs off, licking lines over the twitching muscle before poking back in.
It seems like an eternity of teasing, licking, sucking before Arthur finally feels the press of a slicked finger slipping inside of him. He is so loose that there is nearly no resistance at all, and he whimpers because it’s not enough. Looking down between his own legs, Arthur finds Eames staring up at him, smiling fondly, wickedly, and possessively. Arthur vaguely wonders how Eames can fit all of those emotions in to one expression. He can’t think on it long because Eames is adding another finger, slipping it in to stretch him more.
It’s still not enough. Arthur is ready and he wants more. Looking down at Eames again, he tries to form words around his tongue that has become too thick and heavy in his own mouth. “Eames, enough,” he finally manages. “I … ah … ah … I need. I need more.”
Eames, the bastard, is tonguing the stretch of Arthur’s muscle around his fingers. His other had cups over Arthur’s cock and Arthur attempts to push up into it, demanding more pressure. Eames relents, pulling his fingers free which makes Arthur shudder. His hole grasps, twitches with loss.
Eames licks at his own palm, applying as much spit as possible before wrapping his hand around his own cock. He reaches for the bottle of lube they have and pours just enough straight unto Arthur’s hole. Arthur watches as Eames lines himself up before pressing in slowly. The slide is delicious and Arthur hums his approval, bearing down to let Eames sink in with one smooth stroke.
Eames’ eyes flutter shut and he lets out a little gasped curse. He stays still for a moment, letting Arthur adjust, before he falls forward. He catches himself on his arm just before he can crush Arthur with his weight. Capturing Arthur’s mouth in another kiss, Eames begins to rock slowly, sliding in and out of Arthur at an excruciatingly slow pace.
It’s lazy, and wonderful, and perfect. Arthur wants it to never end; he wants Eames to fuck him all day, slowly. But the pressure, the need to come builds until he can’t take it anymore and he reaches behind Eames’ legs, grabbing at his ass and urging for a quicker pace.
Eames thrusts harder, his panting leaving Arthur’s neck wet and hot. Arthur turns his head to the side, to capture the lobe of Eames’ ear between his teeth. Every time Eames pushes in, Arthur lets out a little whimper of pleasure, of encouragement. He’s close, so close, but his cock is trapped between his stomach and Eames with not enough friction to bring him to climax.
He reluctantly releases Eames’ ear and pushes him up a little to grab at his own prick. He tugs lightly at it as Eames continues to drive into him. Eames looks down at him fiercely, lost in the pleasure of the moment. It’s a feral look which causes Arthur to bite down on his lip instinctively. Eames snaps his hips harder and wraps his own hand around Arthur’s cock, jerking in sync with Arthur’s own hand.
Eames’ pace falters and the muscles in his face lock up for a brief moment before going slack as he shouts over his orgasm. Arthur can feel the hot spill of Eames’ come inside him. Eames tries to keep the pace, pushing through his oversensitivity to fuck Arthur into orgasm, but he can’t. Arthur stops him with a touch to his thigh. Eames reluctantly pulls out, but grabs Arthur’s wrist, removing Arthur’s grip on his own cock. He bends down and sucks at Arthur again as he slips two fingers into Arthur’s wet asshole.
Arthur moans without reserve, loud and strained and needy. Eames searches inside him, trying to find his prostate, but Arthur is coming from the grip of Eames’ throat and the press of his lips around his cock, before Eames can find it. Arthur shudders as Eames drinks his come and laps at his dick.
He smiles before he comes back up to kiss Arthur, wiping his hand on a scrap of cloth they keep beside the bed. Eames uses the cloth to clean Arthur up, wiping and kissing intermittently. When he’s done he flops down beside Arthur and sighs happily.
“We doing this today? Or are we putting it off again?”
Arthur smiles, and turns to look at Eames. He strokes a hand down Eames’ sweat dampened skin. “No, the weather is good. Today is good.”
It’s been a year since Arthur went looking for Eames. A year since his injury and the strained confession of feelings. It has not been easy. Eames still has a hard time sharing his past, but they work through it. Arthur hasn’t found anything about Eames that he could hate him for, and he doesn’t understand why Eames is still so reluctant to share. But every time Eames does, it gets easier.
It’s amazing too, so amazing, because every day Arthur wakes to Eames by his side. He’s able to reach out and touch, to kiss Eames the way he wants. He can stare all he wants, without having to feel bad about it anymore. They do everything together, and it works, because they work well together.
But a year means that their supplies have run low. The city is picked over and as much as they’ve tried, they haven’t been able to grow enough of a garden to support themselves. They’ve saved as many portable things they can, and have decided to head south. Maybe they will run into populated territory; they don’t know. But at least the weather will be better. They’ll be able to live if they can grow things, or if they can find another city that isn’t empty of food.
Arthur must be making a face again, because Eames reaches over to brush the hair from his eyes. “It’ll be okay,” he says.
“I know,” Arthur answers, and he smiles. He knows everything will be alright.