fic: "and with the thunder", NC-17, Bradley James/Angel Coulby, RPF
Title: And With The Thunder
Author: purely_distel
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut
Word Count: 1476
Characters/Pairings: Bradley James/Angel Coulby
Spoilers/Warnings: well, it is real person smut, WHAT do you EXPECT! Oh and watch out for smut-fic clichés because there are a lot!
Disclaimer: I am fully aware of the fact that Bradley and Angel are real, living, breathing people and I am in no way insinuating that anything like this is actually happening. This is simply wishful thinking ;)
Summery: The fingers gripping her bared shoulders - just shy of harshly - were sweaty, the kisses being pressed to her neck felt sloppy, hurried. The short, hot bouts of breath escaping his throat made her shiver when they collided with her skin, wet from sweat and kisses.
Notes: This, people, THIS is what my brain comes up with when it is 5am in the morning, I haven't slept for about 20 hours and I should be studying. Maybe I should put THIS into my exam instead of the essay for Arts and Entertainment Foundation? Anyway. I've been waiting for some proper Hussy/Angel-getting-it-on-in-their-merlin-costumes smut since, like, forever. And when I found none, I wrote myself. I hope you can find some enjoyment in this! A huge shout-out goes to mydoctortennant for a) having the same hours as me and b) for beta-reading this at the crack of dawn.
The fingers gripping her bared shoulders - just shy of harshly - were sweaty, the kisses being pressed to her neck felt sloppy, hurried. The short, hot bouts of breath escaping his throat made her shiver when they collided with her skin, wet from sweat and kisses.
"So sweet ..."
She had no idea what exactly he meant but a short gasp, originally a laugh, was all she offered before gripping his head, snatching up his hair tightly and nearly ripping him back to her lips, needing contact.
Delirious, hot and delirious was what she felt and had to be. The sun had gotten to her while filming today, standing in the glaring light for hours, not moving, being all the queen. Now, leaning against a wall outside the castle, far away from the crew and prying eyes, she had never felt less majestic, even though she was still in her dress, even though what she felt when running her fingers down his back was the rough material of Arthur's chain mail.
"Fucking sweet ..."
Angel gasped when suddenly she felt the humid air of a heavy summer day hit her nipples shortly before Bradley's mouth descended upon them, licking, sucking, making her breath hitch even more, making her wish they were truly alone. Why was she doing this? How had it come to this? She honestly couldn't remember.
It probably had started early this morning when one of the crew members and pointed out to them in the dressing rooms that, if this really were Arthurian times, today would be the celebration of Beltane. He had grinned and waggled his eyebrows mock-suggestively and they had all had a laugh, no one taking it seriously. And why would they?
The day had been just like every other day, except maybe for the heat that today had been nearly unbearable. The sun relentlessly shining down on them until, shortly before the end of filming, clouds appeared out of nowhere, the air suddenly vibrating humidly, a summer storm about to break loose.
The day had been like every other day except that today the scenes between Arthur and Gwen had been more intense than they had been in weeks, months even, and the director had not let them off until he had seen 'the spark' and they had tried again and again and again, apparently always missing just that tiny last bit. In the end, Bradley had been so annoyed (and Angel felt with him), that his Arthur had practically shoved her Gwen against the corridor wall, his entire body pressing against her, leaning into her, his slightly sweaty forehead pressed to hers, his eyes boring into hers dark and intense from exhaustion, heat and annoyance.
Angel had never felt as alive and turned-on in her entire life.
Oh crap, she knew exactly how it started.
The day really had been like every other day except that today, today both her and Bradley gave in.
Which was why she now found herself with one leg wrapped around Bradley, her hands gripping his arms tightly as his mouth and tongue did in reality what had until now only happened in her head.
"Beautiful ..."
When he bit her nipple softly, his free hand softly massaging her exposed flesh, she couldn't help but moan and she was certain she felt him grin against her exposed flesh, gaining enjoyment and, quite obviously, an even bigger ego from having her at his mercy.
Oh she would show him.
Again she fought her fingers into his hair and got him to stand straight, kissing him with all she had, her tongue not asking for permission before entering and sucking his bottom lip not unlike what he had done to her before and this time she could hear him trying to suppress a moan of his own, his hands gripping her waist tightly, trying to give as good as he got. For a while Angel got lost in the moment. Their kisses, so desperate at this point there was really no finesse left, her exposed breasts rubbing against his chain mail covered chest giving even more friction, their hips blindly grinding into each other, no attention for detail.
Angel thought she heard the first rumblings of the nearing storm in the distance when she found her hands deftly working their way under his chain mail, trailing the waistband of his trousers, her lips now leaving his on their own accord and following the line of a salty drop of sweat that made its way down Bradley's neck, maddeningly slow. For a moment she thought about working his costume over his head but her train of thought was cut short when, with a somewhat strangled gasp, Bradley all but pinned her to stonewall and gathered up the skirt of her dress, his hands hungrily exploring the newly available skin once the fabric was hitched around her waist.
"So fucking beautiful ..."
In a vain attempt of getting her breathing under control, Angel raised her head, her eyes staring straight into black clouds piling above them and, suddenly, as if they knew she was watching, opening their flood gates and letting rain purr down on the two of them.
Angel was not sure if Bradley even noticed the storm starting up all around them, all she knew was that she was thankful for the noises of nature swallowing her needy whimpers when Bradley's fingers snuck between her legs, his thump brushing her clit again and again, one finger teasing her opening until she bit down on her lip so hard to keep from screaming, she actually tasted blood.
Her hair was plastered to her head, the hot drops of the air-warmed rain drenching her dress, running refreshing and exciting paths down her naked flesh and Angel felt herself dangerously close to coming with Bradley's relentless ministration and the rain and the stone castle and the sweat and the heat and everything, so she pushed his hand away. For the first time since this had all started, Bradley actually looked at her and she stared back, both of them blinking rapidly to keep the water from their eyes. Before Bradley's gaze changed from the lusty haze it now spoke of to confusion for her making him stop, Angels hands were at his trousers, tracing the waistband, dipping in shortly, making her intentions clear.
Instead of voicing an answer, his lips descended on hers again, the kiss even more hurried, absent-minded, than the others. Quickly, his trousers where open, down on the ground, and he stepped between her legs, again hitching the by now heavy and soaked layers of her now ruined dress up and around her hips. Angel broke their kiss, looking up into the skies again, one hand wiping hair and sweat and rain from her face, the other clutching his shoulder tightly, while Bradley lifted her up, her legs clinging to his hips in the same moment. She had to look down now, look him in the eyes. She knew it would mean that he would know it all now. It was right there, all over her face, she knew. How she had never truly hated it when he called her 'Hussy' How she actually thought his excitement about Buffy was adorable rather than annoying. The way she loved him knowing her so well. That she hadn't been embarrassed when he told her he liked her as more than a college. That all she had been was scared. That she loved him, too.
Then again, if it didn't get out there now, when would it ever? So she looked at him and he looked at her as if searching for some kind of answer and the rain was never louder in their ears, the rumbling from up above directly on top of them now, him right there at her opening, waiting. Searching. Wishing. Hoping.
"Yes ..." Angel had no idea why she knew that it was what he wanted to hear but she did and so she said it and again as if nature was aware of what was happening inside her, inside them, light suddenly flooded all around them. The wide echoing crack of lightning wasn't not far behind and Bradley's lips were on hers again, his tongue in her mouth, his dick inside her and his hips moving, his fingers digging into her arse, keeping her up while the rough stone walls of the old French castle dug into her back and it was raw and quick and a little harsh but Angel clutched him to her as best she could, clenching around him when the feeling became to much. She split her lip again when she came and she knew for once in her life that she did not mind jumping head first into uncertainty because if this was what uncertainty felt like: she'd choose it every day.
~finis
Author: purely_distel
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut
Word Count: 1476
Characters/Pairings: Bradley James/Angel Coulby
Spoilers/Warnings: well, it is real person smut, WHAT do you EXPECT! Oh and watch out for smut-fic clichés because there are a lot!
Disclaimer: I am fully aware of the fact that Bradley and Angel are real, living, breathing people and I am in no way insinuating that anything like this is actually happening. This is simply wishful thinking ;)
Summery: The fingers gripping her bared shoulders - just shy of harshly - were sweaty, the kisses being pressed to her neck felt sloppy, hurried. The short, hot bouts of breath escaping his throat made her shiver when they collided with her skin, wet from sweat and kisses.
Notes: This, people, THIS is what my brain comes up with when it is 5am in the morning, I haven't slept for about 20 hours and I should be studying. Maybe I should put THIS into my exam instead of the essay for Arts and Entertainment Foundation? Anyway. I've been waiting for some proper Hussy/Angel-getting-it-on-in-their-merlin-costumes smut since, like, forever. And when I found none, I wrote myself. I hope you can find some enjoyment in this! A huge shout-out goes to mydoctortennant for a) having the same hours as me and b) for beta-reading this at the crack of dawn.
The fingers gripping her bared shoulders - just shy of harshly - were sweaty, the kisses being pressed to her neck felt sloppy, hurried. The short, hot bouts of breath escaping his throat made her shiver when they collided with her skin, wet from sweat and kisses.
"So sweet ..."
She had no idea what exactly he meant but a short gasp, originally a laugh, was all she offered before gripping his head, snatching up his hair tightly and nearly ripping him back to her lips, needing contact.
Delirious, hot and delirious was what she felt and had to be. The sun had gotten to her while filming today, standing in the glaring light for hours, not moving, being all the queen. Now, leaning against a wall outside the castle, far away from the crew and prying eyes, she had never felt less majestic, even though she was still in her dress, even though what she felt when running her fingers down his back was the rough material of Arthur's chain mail.
"Fucking sweet ..."
Angel gasped when suddenly she felt the humid air of a heavy summer day hit her nipples shortly before Bradley's mouth descended upon them, licking, sucking, making her breath hitch even more, making her wish they were truly alone. Why was she doing this? How had it come to this? She honestly couldn't remember.
It probably had started early this morning when one of the crew members and pointed out to them in the dressing rooms that, if this really were Arthurian times, today would be the celebration of Beltane. He had grinned and waggled his eyebrows mock-suggestively and they had all had a laugh, no one taking it seriously. And why would they?
The day had been just like every other day, except maybe for the heat that today had been nearly unbearable. The sun relentlessly shining down on them until, shortly before the end of filming, clouds appeared out of nowhere, the air suddenly vibrating humidly, a summer storm about to break loose.
The day had been like every other day except that today the scenes between Arthur and Gwen had been more intense than they had been in weeks, months even, and the director had not let them off until he had seen 'the spark' and they had tried again and again and again, apparently always missing just that tiny last bit. In the end, Bradley had been so annoyed (and Angel felt with him), that his Arthur had practically shoved her Gwen against the corridor wall, his entire body pressing against her, leaning into her, his slightly sweaty forehead pressed to hers, his eyes boring into hers dark and intense from exhaustion, heat and annoyance.
Angel had never felt as alive and turned-on in her entire life.
Oh crap, she knew exactly how it started.
The day really had been like every other day except that today, today both her and Bradley gave in.
Which was why she now found herself with one leg wrapped around Bradley, her hands gripping his arms tightly as his mouth and tongue did in reality what had until now only happened in her head.
"Beautiful ..."
When he bit her nipple softly, his free hand softly massaging her exposed flesh, she couldn't help but moan and she was certain she felt him grin against her exposed flesh, gaining enjoyment and, quite obviously, an even bigger ego from having her at his mercy.
Oh she would show him.
Again she fought her fingers into his hair and got him to stand straight, kissing him with all she had, her tongue not asking for permission before entering and sucking his bottom lip not unlike what he had done to her before and this time she could hear him trying to suppress a moan of his own, his hands gripping her waist tightly, trying to give as good as he got. For a while Angel got lost in the moment. Their kisses, so desperate at this point there was really no finesse left, her exposed breasts rubbing against his chain mail covered chest giving even more friction, their hips blindly grinding into each other, no attention for detail.
Angel thought she heard the first rumblings of the nearing storm in the distance when she found her hands deftly working their way under his chain mail, trailing the waistband of his trousers, her lips now leaving his on their own accord and following the line of a salty drop of sweat that made its way down Bradley's neck, maddeningly slow. For a moment she thought about working his costume over his head but her train of thought was cut short when, with a somewhat strangled gasp, Bradley all but pinned her to stonewall and gathered up the skirt of her dress, his hands hungrily exploring the newly available skin once the fabric was hitched around her waist.
"So fucking beautiful ..."
In a vain attempt of getting her breathing under control, Angel raised her head, her eyes staring straight into black clouds piling above them and, suddenly, as if they knew she was watching, opening their flood gates and letting rain purr down on the two of them.
Angel was not sure if Bradley even noticed the storm starting up all around them, all she knew was that she was thankful for the noises of nature swallowing her needy whimpers when Bradley's fingers snuck between her legs, his thump brushing her clit again and again, one finger teasing her opening until she bit down on her lip so hard to keep from screaming, she actually tasted blood.
Her hair was plastered to her head, the hot drops of the air-warmed rain drenching her dress, running refreshing and exciting paths down her naked flesh and Angel felt herself dangerously close to coming with Bradley's relentless ministration and the rain and the stone castle and the sweat and the heat and everything, so she pushed his hand away. For the first time since this had all started, Bradley actually looked at her and she stared back, both of them blinking rapidly to keep the water from their eyes. Before Bradley's gaze changed from the lusty haze it now spoke of to confusion for her making him stop, Angels hands were at his trousers, tracing the waistband, dipping in shortly, making her intentions clear.
Instead of voicing an answer, his lips descended on hers again, the kiss even more hurried, absent-minded, than the others. Quickly, his trousers where open, down on the ground, and he stepped between her legs, again hitching the by now heavy and soaked layers of her now ruined dress up and around her hips. Angel broke their kiss, looking up into the skies again, one hand wiping hair and sweat and rain from her face, the other clutching his shoulder tightly, while Bradley lifted her up, her legs clinging to his hips in the same moment. She had to look down now, look him in the eyes. She knew it would mean that he would know it all now. It was right there, all over her face, she knew. How she had never truly hated it when he called her 'Hussy' How she actually thought his excitement about Buffy was adorable rather than annoying. The way she loved him knowing her so well. That she hadn't been embarrassed when he told her he liked her as more than a college. That all she had been was scared. That she loved him, too.
Then again, if it didn't get out there now, when would it ever? So she looked at him and he looked at her as if searching for some kind of answer and the rain was never louder in their ears, the rumbling from up above directly on top of them now, him right there at her opening, waiting. Searching. Wishing. Hoping.
"Yes ..." Angel had no idea why she knew that it was what he wanted to hear but she did and so she said it and again as if nature was aware of what was happening inside her, inside them, light suddenly flooded all around them. The wide echoing crack of lightning wasn't not far behind and Bradley's lips were on hers again, his tongue in her mouth, his dick inside her and his hips moving, his fingers digging into her arse, keeping her up while the rough stone walls of the old French castle dug into her back and it was raw and quick and a little harsh but Angel clutched him to her as best she could, clenching around him when the feeling became to much. She split her lip again when she came and she knew for once in her life that she did not mind jumping head first into uncertainty because if this was what uncertainty felt like: she'd choose it every day.
~finis