Collaborative Fic!!!
Title: A Study in Still Life, ch. 1
Authors: often_adamanta & violettefemme
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: OB/OMC, eventually Orlijah
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Rough, Meanie person sex with slight Dom/sub undertones.
A/N: This is a WIP…
Cillian stepped through the door at 5:27 pm. He set down his brief case and removed his navy suit jacket. He walked over spotless carpet to the kitchen and to the enticing smell of dinner, ready for him.
A frown appeared when no one greeted him, when he saw that the table was still bare. A few more steps and he found Orlando sprawled out on the sofa. He was still in his work clothes, stripes of clay and paint covering the worn fabric. Cillian’s frown deepened. He reached out and shook Orli’s arm, waking him with a jolt that sent him sliding headfirst into the wall.
“Ow,” Orli gasped, eyes widening as he saw Cillian standing over him.
“Sorry, babe.” Cillian offered a disingenuous apology. “What the hell are you doing sleeping at 5:30, anyway?”
“Sorry. Sorry, Cillian. I didn't mean to fall asleep.” He rubbed the back of his head gingerly.
Cillian walked away, pulling his tie loose from its knot. “Fine. Just get cleaned up.”
He disappeared into the bedroom to change into something suitable for an evening at home.
Orli followed meekly, pulling off the offending clothes as he walked. He wiped at a smear of clay on his jaw. “How was your day?”
“Long. Spent all morning on the phone with New York and all afternoon in meetings for the Leighton account. Incredibly difficult negotiations... It's probably a little complex for you.” Cillian turned and watched his lover strip down and head toward the adjoining bathroom. “And you? Have fun playing in the mud today?”
“Yes,” Orli smiled like he always did when thinking of his ‘work.’
He remembered a slower student finally producing a quality piece and the new glaze combination on his latest project, but didn't mention it because he knew Cillian didn't want to hear. He put on a clean pair of jeans and a nice sweater that he knew Cillian would like.
“Dinner should be ready. I made lasagna.” Orlando went into the kitchen to check on everything and wait for Cillian.
A frown tugged at Cillian’s mouth as he watched Orli leave the room. He didn’t ask much from his spacey lover, but Orlando was becoming sloppy. Dinner hadn’t been set out when he got home. Orlando had fallen asleep on the expensive, Italian leather couch in filthy clothes. The carelessness unsettled him.
Cillian finished dressing and went into the bathroom to wash his face and hands. He saw that Orli's jeans hadn't quite made it into the bin. Fed up, he allowed a frown and walked to the dining room. The sight of Orlando setting the table for him, looking so beautiful in the black sweater he’d bought Orli in London, caused Cillian's frown to ease. Still, he gleaned a small amount of satisfaction when Orlando jumped at the tone of his voice. "Fuck, Orlando! There is a hamper for a reason. Why must you throw your clothes all over the bathroom?”
Orli almost dropped the plate he was carrying and blushed with embarrassment at being so clumsy. “Sorry, I didn't mean to.”
He ran into bedroom and returned a few seconds later, flustered now to get everything right and upset with himself for being such an idiot. He started on the table again.
“I made lasagna,” he said, hoping to please his lover and divert Cillian's attention from his screw-ups.
“Oh, bother.” Orlando blushed again, “I already said that.”
Cillian began to pour out the wine while Orlando fidgeted with the plates and serving spoons. “Alright Orlando, it's fine. Please, sit down before you knock something over.”
Cillian placed a glass of wine in front of Orlando, pulling a napkin into his lap. Orli sank quickly into his seat, mirrored Cillian’s motion with his own napkin, and kept his eyes down. The alcohol was appealing, but he couldn't bring himself to pick up the crystal full of dark, staining liquid. He had an insane urge to mention the lasagna again but squashed it, deciding he couldn't be trusted to speak right now.
Cillian watched Orlando stare at his wine glass with trepidation. Sighing, he took a bite of lasagna and chewed slowly. He could feel the weight of Orlando’s eyes, waiting for approval. “It's good.”
Cillian searched his mind for something more to say, but couldn't think of anything he wanted to share. He focused on the way Orlando's teeth bit at his bottom lip.
“You like it?” When Cillian nodded, a smile broke out on Orli’s face. He looked, in that instant, more like a puppy receiving attention than the grown man he was. “I used less oregano this time.”
“Ah,” Cillian commented at this thrilling bit of information.
Who gives a fuck about oregano? Cillian thought. Jesus, the things Orli comes up with.
However, Cillian did love the adoring look on Orli's face. “You should smile at me like that more often, darling. It pleases me.”
“If it makes you happy, I'll never stop smiling.” Orli had a small fear that this was completely inane, but it was true, so he just kept smiling. Now that Cillian was eating Orli ate as well, but his eyes stayed focus on the man in front of him and he hardly tasted it.
Cillian huffed a small laugh.
“You know I'm easy to please, Orlando.” His stomach clenched at the sight of his lover licking the stain of sauce from his lips. “After all, you do a great many things that please me.”
Not including all your simpering smiles and dazzling conversation skills, Cillian thought to himself.
“Yeah?” Orli noticed the lust in Cillian’s eyes and licked his lips deliberately this time. “Anything in particularly you'd like me to do right now to please you? Other than smiling, of course.”
He said it lightly, just enough uncertainty to let Cillian decide if it's suggestive. Sometimes Cillian didn't take kindly to him starting things.
“Right, now?” Cillian smirked. He swallowed the last of his wine and set his silverware neatly on the side of his plate. “Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Finish your dinner and then get the kitchen tidied up.”
Orlando's face fell slightly as Cillian pushed away from the table. “I'll be reading the paper. Come find me when you’re done. Then, we'll see...”
Orli sighed mentally, not physically where Cillian could see or hear, and immediately picked up their plates and carried them back into the kitchen. It hardly needed tidying. Orlando cleaned while he cooked now because the mess bothered Cillian so much, crumbs wiped away as soon as they've fallen. He hand washed dishes far to expensive to be put into the machine, a hint of a smile appearing as he remembered the look on Cillian's face when he had served dinner on paper plates that one time, but the humor slipped away as the memory also replayed the words that followed Cillian's shock.
When everything was put away, he gave the room one last look, thinking that he'd mop tomorrow. He padded barefoot to where Cillian was reading in his favorite chair and sat on the floor at his feet.
“I'm done.” Orlando’s voice was small, not wanting to disturb. He doesn't mind waiting.
Cillian glanced down at Orlando, who was obediently waiting for him to finish. He scanned the business section and read some market predictions for the upcoming week. Cillian’s hand fell onto Orlando's shoulder and worked its way up his neck and into his hair, rubbing his scalp and idly separating curls. He wasn’t really interested in the paper, but there was something so seductive about making Orlando wait for him. It’s an intoxicating amount of power to have someone so beautiful sit at your feet and beg, silently, for attention.
Orli leaned into the caress imperceptibly, not wanting to force the issue, but wanting the touch so badly. Fingers scraped a bit more than gently against his scalp, and he held back a whimper, desperate not to distract. He was already half-hard, but he ignored it, focused on Cillian, as always.
Orlando was practically vibrating under Cillian's hand. He grinned at the figures swirling unnoticed on the page before him. Cillian arched his back casually, causing him to slide forward in the seat just enough to nudge Orlando's shoulder softly. His fingers slid back down to linger at the flushed skin of his lover’s neck. He read for just a moment more, before folding the paper neatly and setting it on the table beside him.
Orlando’s eyes flicked up when he heard the paper being set aside. One look at Cillian’s face and he knew what to do, twisting gracefully around until he was on his knees, Cillian's hand still in his hair. Orli opened his lover’s pants quickly and pulled him free. He paused to take a breath before taking Cillian’s cock into his throat in one smooth motion, just the way Cillian took him when they fucked. He swallowed and reflected on a time, before Cillian, when he had had a gag reflex. That time was long over.
Cillian simultaneously arched his hips up and pushed the bobbing head down. Orli swallowed again. Cillian's breath caught, suppressing a moan, but Orlando had heard it anyway and felt like smiling again, except, of course, not right then. Cillian's hand pulled at his hair, dragging those lips up and down. Orli marveled at the sight of Cillian’s head thrown back in ecstasy. No matter what else he ruined, this he could do well.
Orlando's silken lips and warm mouth moving swiftly along his shaft was exceptional. Goosebumps rose on his skin as his lover's cheeks hollowed. Cillian pushed himself into Orlando's relaxed throat over and over again, grinding his teeth to hold back insane admiration. He couldn't manage to keep the words at bay though, and as Orli slicked his tongue around the head of his erection, they spilt from his mouth. “Fuck! Yes… like that.”
Cillian bit his lip hard and thrust his hips at a faster rhythm. Sweat broke out along his hairline, and he moaned, writhing against the heated leather.
Warmth flooded through Orli at the choked praise. He tried for more, teeth scraping the way that always made Cillian shiver. Orli used everything he knew, making it good, good enough to allow Cillian to forget him and his constant stupidity and just feel pleasure. Orli swiped his tongue over the head again, tasting precome.
Cillian's hips drove forward and Orli peeked up, caught Cillian's eyes on him, and saw how flushed and sweaty he's made Cillian. The eye contact broke as Cillian pushed Orlando's head down again, but it wasn’t enough. Cillian needed more, wanted everything, all of Orli.
He yanked Orlando's hair hard enough to pull him off and send him sprawling on the floor. Cillian dropped off the chair onto the floor and crept toward Orli, who had already turned onto his stomach and lowered his pants. The instant, unquestioned submission only made Cillian harder and further sapped his self control.
Cillian untangled the pants from around Orlando's ankles and tossed them, as well as his own clothes, onto the chair behind him. Running his hands over muscled calves, he parted Orlando’s legs widely and knelt between the strewn limbs. The sight of the beautiful man spread out before him, made his mouth go dry and his pulse quicken. Taking himself in hand, he spread leaking fluid and saliva down his erection. Leaning over his lover, he brought his cock up to bump against the entrance to Orlando's body and in one smooth push, he was enveloped in blinding heat and pressure.
Cillian took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then lined up carefully, his entire weight resting solidly on top of Orlando. Grabbing the legs of the massive entertainment center before him, he used them as leverage to push and pull against, fucking himself into the groaning man beneath him.
The friction was beyond intense. His weight threatened to suffocate Orlando. Orli whimpered, overwhelmed, but it only fueled Cillian to go faster, harder. Whimpering turned into sharp moans, then choked cries. The louder Orlando got, the harder Cillian fucked him, thrilled to the core at the response from his lover, his Orli. The feeling of ownership pulsed through him, and he slammed in harder. Orlando screamed with the air left in his lungs, again and again, until Cillian came, buried more than painfully deep and crushing Orli beneath him. He thrust halfheartedly as he softened prolonging the aftershocks, then stilled.
"You're so lovely..." he sighed, kissing the sweat damp skin of Orli’s back. He pulled out and got up, picking up his pants before walking into the bedroom to shower.
Orli, shaking, stayed curled on the floor as long as he dared. Cillian hadn't touched him, but it was okay. He didn't need to come. He wasn’t hard anymore. It was okay.
Authors: often_adamanta & violettefemme
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: OB/OMC, eventually Orlijah
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Rough, Meanie person sex with slight Dom/sub undertones.
A/N: This is a WIP…
Cillian stepped through the door at 5:27 pm. He set down his brief case and removed his navy suit jacket. He walked over spotless carpet to the kitchen and to the enticing smell of dinner, ready for him.
A frown appeared when no one greeted him, when he saw that the table was still bare. A few more steps and he found Orlando sprawled out on the sofa. He was still in his work clothes, stripes of clay and paint covering the worn fabric. Cillian’s frown deepened. He reached out and shook Orli’s arm, waking him with a jolt that sent him sliding headfirst into the wall.
“Ow,” Orli gasped, eyes widening as he saw Cillian standing over him.
“Sorry, babe.” Cillian offered a disingenuous apology. “What the hell are you doing sleeping at 5:30, anyway?”
“Sorry. Sorry, Cillian. I didn't mean to fall asleep.” He rubbed the back of his head gingerly.
Cillian walked away, pulling his tie loose from its knot. “Fine. Just get cleaned up.”
He disappeared into the bedroom to change into something suitable for an evening at home.
Orli followed meekly, pulling off the offending clothes as he walked. He wiped at a smear of clay on his jaw. “How was your day?”
“Long. Spent all morning on the phone with New York and all afternoon in meetings for the Leighton account. Incredibly difficult negotiations... It's probably a little complex for you.” Cillian turned and watched his lover strip down and head toward the adjoining bathroom. “And you? Have fun playing in the mud today?”
“Yes,” Orli smiled like he always did when thinking of his ‘work.’
He remembered a slower student finally producing a quality piece and the new glaze combination on his latest project, but didn't mention it because he knew Cillian didn't want to hear. He put on a clean pair of jeans and a nice sweater that he knew Cillian would like.
“Dinner should be ready. I made lasagna.” Orlando went into the kitchen to check on everything and wait for Cillian.
A frown tugged at Cillian’s mouth as he watched Orli leave the room. He didn’t ask much from his spacey lover, but Orlando was becoming sloppy. Dinner hadn’t been set out when he got home. Orlando had fallen asleep on the expensive, Italian leather couch in filthy clothes. The carelessness unsettled him.
Cillian finished dressing and went into the bathroom to wash his face and hands. He saw that Orli's jeans hadn't quite made it into the bin. Fed up, he allowed a frown and walked to the dining room. The sight of Orlando setting the table for him, looking so beautiful in the black sweater he’d bought Orli in London, caused Cillian's frown to ease. Still, he gleaned a small amount of satisfaction when Orlando jumped at the tone of his voice. "Fuck, Orlando! There is a hamper for a reason. Why must you throw your clothes all over the bathroom?”
Orli almost dropped the plate he was carrying and blushed with embarrassment at being so clumsy. “Sorry, I didn't mean to.”
He ran into bedroom and returned a few seconds later, flustered now to get everything right and upset with himself for being such an idiot. He started on the table again.
“I made lasagna,” he said, hoping to please his lover and divert Cillian's attention from his screw-ups.
“Oh, bother.” Orlando blushed again, “I already said that.”
Cillian began to pour out the wine while Orlando fidgeted with the plates and serving spoons. “Alright Orlando, it's fine. Please, sit down before you knock something over.”
Cillian placed a glass of wine in front of Orlando, pulling a napkin into his lap. Orli sank quickly into his seat, mirrored Cillian’s motion with his own napkin, and kept his eyes down. The alcohol was appealing, but he couldn't bring himself to pick up the crystal full of dark, staining liquid. He had an insane urge to mention the lasagna again but squashed it, deciding he couldn't be trusted to speak right now.
Cillian watched Orlando stare at his wine glass with trepidation. Sighing, he took a bite of lasagna and chewed slowly. He could feel the weight of Orlando’s eyes, waiting for approval. “It's good.”
Cillian searched his mind for something more to say, but couldn't think of anything he wanted to share. He focused on the way Orlando's teeth bit at his bottom lip.
“You like it?” When Cillian nodded, a smile broke out on Orli’s face. He looked, in that instant, more like a puppy receiving attention than the grown man he was. “I used less oregano this time.”
“Ah,” Cillian commented at this thrilling bit of information.
Who gives a fuck about oregano? Cillian thought. Jesus, the things Orli comes up with.
However, Cillian did love the adoring look on Orli's face. “You should smile at me like that more often, darling. It pleases me.”
“If it makes you happy, I'll never stop smiling.” Orli had a small fear that this was completely inane, but it was true, so he just kept smiling. Now that Cillian was eating Orli ate as well, but his eyes stayed focus on the man in front of him and he hardly tasted it.
Cillian huffed a small laugh.
“You know I'm easy to please, Orlando.” His stomach clenched at the sight of his lover licking the stain of sauce from his lips. “After all, you do a great many things that please me.”
Not including all your simpering smiles and dazzling conversation skills, Cillian thought to himself.
“Yeah?” Orli noticed the lust in Cillian’s eyes and licked his lips deliberately this time. “Anything in particularly you'd like me to do right now to please you? Other than smiling, of course.”
He said it lightly, just enough uncertainty to let Cillian decide if it's suggestive. Sometimes Cillian didn't take kindly to him starting things.
“Right, now?” Cillian smirked. He swallowed the last of his wine and set his silverware neatly on the side of his plate. “Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Finish your dinner and then get the kitchen tidied up.”
Orlando's face fell slightly as Cillian pushed away from the table. “I'll be reading the paper. Come find me when you’re done. Then, we'll see...”
Orli sighed mentally, not physically where Cillian could see or hear, and immediately picked up their plates and carried them back into the kitchen. It hardly needed tidying. Orlando cleaned while he cooked now because the mess bothered Cillian so much, crumbs wiped away as soon as they've fallen. He hand washed dishes far to expensive to be put into the machine, a hint of a smile appearing as he remembered the look on Cillian's face when he had served dinner on paper plates that one time, but the humor slipped away as the memory also replayed the words that followed Cillian's shock.
When everything was put away, he gave the room one last look, thinking that he'd mop tomorrow. He padded barefoot to where Cillian was reading in his favorite chair and sat on the floor at his feet.
“I'm done.” Orlando’s voice was small, not wanting to disturb. He doesn't mind waiting.
Cillian glanced down at Orlando, who was obediently waiting for him to finish. He scanned the business section and read some market predictions for the upcoming week. Cillian’s hand fell onto Orlando's shoulder and worked its way up his neck and into his hair, rubbing his scalp and idly separating curls. He wasn’t really interested in the paper, but there was something so seductive about making Orlando wait for him. It’s an intoxicating amount of power to have someone so beautiful sit at your feet and beg, silently, for attention.
Orli leaned into the caress imperceptibly, not wanting to force the issue, but wanting the touch so badly. Fingers scraped a bit more than gently against his scalp, and he held back a whimper, desperate not to distract. He was already half-hard, but he ignored it, focused on Cillian, as always.
Orlando was practically vibrating under Cillian's hand. He grinned at the figures swirling unnoticed on the page before him. Cillian arched his back casually, causing him to slide forward in the seat just enough to nudge Orlando's shoulder softly. His fingers slid back down to linger at the flushed skin of his lover’s neck. He read for just a moment more, before folding the paper neatly and setting it on the table beside him.
Orlando’s eyes flicked up when he heard the paper being set aside. One look at Cillian’s face and he knew what to do, twisting gracefully around until he was on his knees, Cillian's hand still in his hair. Orli opened his lover’s pants quickly and pulled him free. He paused to take a breath before taking Cillian’s cock into his throat in one smooth motion, just the way Cillian took him when they fucked. He swallowed and reflected on a time, before Cillian, when he had had a gag reflex. That time was long over.
Cillian simultaneously arched his hips up and pushed the bobbing head down. Orli swallowed again. Cillian's breath caught, suppressing a moan, but Orlando had heard it anyway and felt like smiling again, except, of course, not right then. Cillian's hand pulled at his hair, dragging those lips up and down. Orli marveled at the sight of Cillian’s head thrown back in ecstasy. No matter what else he ruined, this he could do well.
Orlando's silken lips and warm mouth moving swiftly along his shaft was exceptional. Goosebumps rose on his skin as his lover's cheeks hollowed. Cillian pushed himself into Orlando's relaxed throat over and over again, grinding his teeth to hold back insane admiration. He couldn't manage to keep the words at bay though, and as Orli slicked his tongue around the head of his erection, they spilt from his mouth. “Fuck! Yes… like that.”
Cillian bit his lip hard and thrust his hips at a faster rhythm. Sweat broke out along his hairline, and he moaned, writhing against the heated leather.
Warmth flooded through Orli at the choked praise. He tried for more, teeth scraping the way that always made Cillian shiver. Orli used everything he knew, making it good, good enough to allow Cillian to forget him and his constant stupidity and just feel pleasure. Orli swiped his tongue over the head again, tasting precome.
Cillian's hips drove forward and Orli peeked up, caught Cillian's eyes on him, and saw how flushed and sweaty he's made Cillian. The eye contact broke as Cillian pushed Orlando's head down again, but it wasn’t enough. Cillian needed more, wanted everything, all of Orli.
He yanked Orlando's hair hard enough to pull him off and send him sprawling on the floor. Cillian dropped off the chair onto the floor and crept toward Orli, who had already turned onto his stomach and lowered his pants. The instant, unquestioned submission only made Cillian harder and further sapped his self control.
Cillian untangled the pants from around Orlando's ankles and tossed them, as well as his own clothes, onto the chair behind him. Running his hands over muscled calves, he parted Orlando’s legs widely and knelt between the strewn limbs. The sight of the beautiful man spread out before him, made his mouth go dry and his pulse quicken. Taking himself in hand, he spread leaking fluid and saliva down his erection. Leaning over his lover, he brought his cock up to bump against the entrance to Orlando's body and in one smooth push, he was enveloped in blinding heat and pressure.
Cillian took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then lined up carefully, his entire weight resting solidly on top of Orlando. Grabbing the legs of the massive entertainment center before him, he used them as leverage to push and pull against, fucking himself into the groaning man beneath him.
The friction was beyond intense. His weight threatened to suffocate Orlando. Orli whimpered, overwhelmed, but it only fueled Cillian to go faster, harder. Whimpering turned into sharp moans, then choked cries. The louder Orlando got, the harder Cillian fucked him, thrilled to the core at the response from his lover, his Orli. The feeling of ownership pulsed through him, and he slammed in harder. Orlando screamed with the air left in his lungs, again and again, until Cillian came, buried more than painfully deep and crushing Orli beneath him. He thrust halfheartedly as he softened prolonging the aftershocks, then stilled.
"You're so lovely..." he sighed, kissing the sweat damp skin of Orli’s back. He pulled out and got up, picking up his pants before walking into the bedroom to shower.
Orli, shaking, stayed curled on the floor as long as he dared. Cillian hadn't touched him, but it was okay. He didn't need to come. He wasn’t hard anymore. It was okay.