New Obsession + Smut Fic Prompt =
This. I VERY rarely write sexin' (and okay, technically not sex), so hopefully it doesn't suck...
Title: Wearing the Pants
Author: amphetamine_47
Rating: R for non-explicit sexual gratification
Spoilers: None really, but it takes place after part 2
Summary: This prompt-"Wonderland is old fashioned in many ways: women wear skirts or dresses, etc. So, Hatter, who loves how strong Alice is, becomes fascinated with Alice wearing pants and men's clothes in general. SMUT is recommended."
That first day, he is understandably too preoccupied to notice what she’s wearing. She could have been wearing Charlie’s armor and he would hardly have noticed, because she’s in his arms and she’s kissing him and he feels like he’s flying without a flamingo. That evening, when they all go out to dinner (at her mother’s insistence) she wears a skirt. It’s a long meal, as Alice and Hatter spin an awkward, almost-plausible explanation to Alice’s mother and during which he tries quite hard not to say the wrong things, and especially not to touch Alice as much as he would like.
And the next day, when she arrives at his apartment-well, Jack’s apartment--in jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt, he’s far more intent on pulling her inside and kissing her again than he is on what she’s wearing.
It’s another fifteen minutes before he’s capable of any sort of coherent thought, because Alice’s hands and mouth are all over him and he’s so intoxicated on her scent and taste that he feels like he’s overdosed on Lust. His hat has long since fallen to the floor, and it’s only now that his hands make their way from her waist down to her rear, and he pauses, mildly befuddled.
Apparently his expression changes, because she pulls back slightly, frowning,
“What?”
He steps back, looks her up and down, and licks his lips,
“Are you...wearing trousers?”
Now it’s her turn to be confused, because a moment ago they were making out like there was no tomorrow, and now all of a sudden he’s critiquing her fashion choices?
“Blue jeans,” she nods, “yes. Why?”
He puts a hand on her hip, captivated, and runs it down her leg. He glances up once, looking like he’s worried she’s going to reprimand him or mock him or…something. Instead she looks a little amused, eyes still wild and hair mussed, and he tries to explain:
“I’ve never seen a woman in trousers before.”
“Never?”
Hatter shakes his head, rounding her, taking in the whole picture.
“Women in Wonderland don’t wear them.”
She thinks back, briefly, realizes in a disconnected sort of way that it was true: the Queen, Duchess, the dancers at the casino, even that crazy old woman at the Library, they’d all been wearing dresses. He wraps his arms around her again, slipping his hands in to her back pockets and squeezing. She gives him a wicked, naughty smile, and Hatter thinks he might just come undone.
“So...is this going to be a thing for you?”
“Oh definitely,” he agrees, kissing her again. One hand moves up around her waist and catches her hip, pulling her close. He thrusts against her, just a little, and the friction makes her squirm, gasping against his mouth. He smiles against her lips, pleased to find that there’s not that much difference between Wonderlanders and Oysters, and trails kisses down her throat.
One hand still in her pocket, the other on her hip, Hatter presses tightly against her and thrusts again, again. Her head falls back, so he kisses the little spot between neck and ear and she shudders.
“Hatter,” she gasps, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
He moves his hand from her hip to the belt loop, pulling her infinitesimally closer, and catches his hand between them.
“Don’t move,” he whispers, and she nods, eyes closed. He thinks how beautiful she is, with the sunlight catching in her hair and her expression wide open with trust and something that he hopes is love. He presses his hand against the button and zipper, fingers between her legs, and rubs until she’s thrusting back against his hand, face buried in his shoulder, and murmurs:
“More...”
His fingers are long and quick, used to performing distracting tricks, and they make quick work of the button and zipper, slipping inside those insanely erotic trousers to stroke her faster, closer. Her breath is coming in jerky little gasps now, right against his ear, and he finally moves his hand from her back pocket and up to catch the back of her neck,
“Let me see you,” he says, and it’s a genuine plea; he wants this like he has never wanted anything.
She lets her head fall back in to his hand, and he is so mesmerized by her fluttering lashes and the way she’s caught her bottom lip in her teeth that his hand jerks once, twice, until she makes a noise that he can’t quite name but that turns his insides to jelly before she slumps against him, gasping.
He moves his hands up to her waist and holds her, keeping her upright on her suddenly shaking legs, and waits for her to regain her composure. She presses a kiss to his neck, another to his cheek, and when she speaks her voice is rough,
“Is that going to happen...every time I wear pants?”
“Very likely,” he nods, and gives her an insufferably pleased grin. She raises an eyebrow in challenge, bends over and picks up his hat from where it had fallen on the floor. Her fingers skim the brim, and he thinks it absurd that such a simple movement can be so sexy.
“You know...most men in my world don’t wear hats.”
She crowns him with it, but it doesn’t stay on for long.
Title: Wearing the Pants
Author: amphetamine_47
Rating: R for non-explicit sexual gratification
Spoilers: None really, but it takes place after part 2
Summary: This prompt-"Wonderland is old fashioned in many ways: women wear skirts or dresses, etc. So, Hatter, who loves how strong Alice is, becomes fascinated with Alice wearing pants and men's clothes in general. SMUT is recommended."
That first day, he is understandably too preoccupied to notice what she’s wearing. She could have been wearing Charlie’s armor and he would hardly have noticed, because she’s in his arms and she’s kissing him and he feels like he’s flying without a flamingo. That evening, when they all go out to dinner (at her mother’s insistence) she wears a skirt. It’s a long meal, as Alice and Hatter spin an awkward, almost-plausible explanation to Alice’s mother and during which he tries quite hard not to say the wrong things, and especially not to touch Alice as much as he would like.
And the next day, when she arrives at his apartment-well, Jack’s apartment--in jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt, he’s far more intent on pulling her inside and kissing her again than he is on what she’s wearing.
It’s another fifteen minutes before he’s capable of any sort of coherent thought, because Alice’s hands and mouth are all over him and he’s so intoxicated on her scent and taste that he feels like he’s overdosed on Lust. His hat has long since fallen to the floor, and it’s only now that his hands make their way from her waist down to her rear, and he pauses, mildly befuddled.
Apparently his expression changes, because she pulls back slightly, frowning,
“What?”
He steps back, looks her up and down, and licks his lips,
“Are you...wearing trousers?”
Now it’s her turn to be confused, because a moment ago they were making out like there was no tomorrow, and now all of a sudden he’s critiquing her fashion choices?
“Blue jeans,” she nods, “yes. Why?”
He puts a hand on her hip, captivated, and runs it down her leg. He glances up once, looking like he’s worried she’s going to reprimand him or mock him or…something. Instead she looks a little amused, eyes still wild and hair mussed, and he tries to explain:
“I’ve never seen a woman in trousers before.”
“Never?”
Hatter shakes his head, rounding her, taking in the whole picture.
“Women in Wonderland don’t wear them.”
She thinks back, briefly, realizes in a disconnected sort of way that it was true: the Queen, Duchess, the dancers at the casino, even that crazy old woman at the Library, they’d all been wearing dresses. He wraps his arms around her again, slipping his hands in to her back pockets and squeezing. She gives him a wicked, naughty smile, and Hatter thinks he might just come undone.
“So...is this going to be a thing for you?”
“Oh definitely,” he agrees, kissing her again. One hand moves up around her waist and catches her hip, pulling her close. He thrusts against her, just a little, and the friction makes her squirm, gasping against his mouth. He smiles against her lips, pleased to find that there’s not that much difference between Wonderlanders and Oysters, and trails kisses down her throat.
One hand still in her pocket, the other on her hip, Hatter presses tightly against her and thrusts again, again. Her head falls back, so he kisses the little spot between neck and ear and she shudders.
“Hatter,” she gasps, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
He moves his hand from her hip to the belt loop, pulling her infinitesimally closer, and catches his hand between them.
“Don’t move,” he whispers, and she nods, eyes closed. He thinks how beautiful she is, with the sunlight catching in her hair and her expression wide open with trust and something that he hopes is love. He presses his hand against the button and zipper, fingers between her legs, and rubs until she’s thrusting back against his hand, face buried in his shoulder, and murmurs:
“More...”
His fingers are long and quick, used to performing distracting tricks, and they make quick work of the button and zipper, slipping inside those insanely erotic trousers to stroke her faster, closer. Her breath is coming in jerky little gasps now, right against his ear, and he finally moves his hand from her back pocket and up to catch the back of her neck,
“Let me see you,” he says, and it’s a genuine plea; he wants this like he has never wanted anything.
She lets her head fall back in to his hand, and he is so mesmerized by her fluttering lashes and the way she’s caught her bottom lip in her teeth that his hand jerks once, twice, until she makes a noise that he can’t quite name but that turns his insides to jelly before she slumps against him, gasping.
He moves his hands up to her waist and holds her, keeping her upright on her suddenly shaking legs, and waits for her to regain her composure. She presses a kiss to his neck, another to his cheek, and when she speaks her voice is rough,
“Is that going to happen...every time I wear pants?”
“Very likely,” he nods, and gives her an insufferably pleased grin. She raises an eyebrow in challenge, bends over and picks up his hat from where it had fallen on the floor. Her fingers skim the brim, and he thinks it absurd that such a simple movement can be so sexy.
“You know...most men in my world don’t wear hats.”
She crowns him with it, but it doesn’t stay on for long.