FILL: Got To Sin To Get Saved 6/? (WARNINGS: slavery, dubcon) (CONTAINS: BDSM)almostneverJuly 9 2011, 02:28:53 UTC
He's gloriously hard and still vicious with anger, his mind a mess of others of us free, how many and where have you been and send you staggering back crosseyed to your mutant zoo.
Charles reaches out and finds Angel frantically projecting his name. He strips everything down to only words and sends: «I'm all right! But I have to break contact now, he's--» a storm inside, a heaving ocean of rage in him-- «He won't forgive us if he learns that someone else is listening. Wait for me, I'll connect back when I've persuaded him.»
If he were a better leader, a better person, Angel's worry would pull him back, a million reasons to stop and he ignores them all, commits himself into Erik's hands and opens to his mouth, digs his hands into silky hair and pulls just the way he can feel Erik wanting him to do. Just the way Charles wants to do. He wants to press Erik down and touch him everywhere, push him past all that rage, push him til he can't help but let go.
«It's not like you think,» Charles tries to tell him, «we're not collecting mutants, we're freeing each other, and some choose to fight, you could join us,» but he's not sure he's coherent at all, especially when Erik starts stripping him out of his clothes.
He can't give up; he clings to that sliver of responsibility, still trying to get words and ideas through even though his own mind is wrecked with want for the body underneath his, for the man underneath all that fury. «What can I do to convince you, how can I win your trust, I'll do anything. Anything at all.»
*
This man on top of him, this beautiful, rich liar with the mental abilities and the penchant for marks and bruises and the hard-on he isn't even trying to hide-- trust, he's asking for, when he's free and able to cherry-pick an army full of whores out of the halls in the Hellfire Club.
Erik knows without even having to ask that this Dr. Charles Xavier doesn't have to offer twice, most of the time; the mutants here have learned to do their jobs with a minimum of complaint (at least if they're not ordered specifically to complain), and this place is safer than the mines or the labs, but that doesn't mean anyone wants to be here, wants to be hurt and fucked and treated like a thing.
Charles gasps against Erik's mouth, lips parted, trailing sloppy kisses across Erik's face. There is no way Charles is feigning; he's wound too tightly for that, too eager and urgent, panting before he's even got Erik undressed. Good-- good that Charles is eager, good that he clearly wants this, because if anyone else finds out that Erik's collar means nothing, does nothing, they're going to want to know why he's here.
Erik shifts his body, lets Charles tug at the hem of Erik's thin turtleneck. Erik's pushing at Charles's jacket, getting it off his shoulders; Charles pauses in getting Erik out of his shirt in order to toss his jacket aside, dig a finger into the knot of his tie and loosen it still further. From here, he could probably get it over his head, but Erik doesn't give him the chance. He grabs Charles by the necktie and tugs him down, forcing Charles's mouth down for another kiss, and Charles gasps again before shoving Erik down at the shoulders and pulling out of his grip. This time there's no stopping him; he pulls the tie over his head, mussing his hair, leaving his collar upturned at one side, taking away the convenient leash, and he unfastens his top three buttons, showing off a remarkably tempting throat and a hint of a slim-line undershirt beneath his crisp white dress shirt. Erik leans up again, presses his face against Charles's throat. Charles ruts against him, cock rubbing hard against Erik's, but Erik knows better than to bite. Humans-- or closeted mutants like this one, how many have there been, he wonders-- don't select Erik to be marked, they choose him because they think he'll be amazing if he screams, if they can get him to break.
Charles groans out loud, burying his fingers in Erik's hair, holding Erik's face tight against his neck. «Anything,» Charles thinks at him, the voice fuzzy in Erik's thoughts, unclear; there's a cinnamon-burn of lust covering everything.
Re: FILL: Got To Sin To Get Saved 6/? (WARNINGS: slavery, dubcon) (CONTAINS: BDSM)elfling_erynJuly 9 2011, 06:39:15 UTC
why is it that every part of this wants me to start my comment with 'oh my' or 'oh my, that was hot'?? Well, here we go:
oh my, I can't believe what Charles got himself into. And I have to wonder what Erik will demand as proof, if he'll demand any, and what the people behind the cameras will have to say to that
Charles reaches out and finds Angel frantically projecting his name. He strips everything down to only words and sends: «I'm all right! But I have to break contact now, he's--» a storm inside, a heaving ocean of rage in him-- «He won't forgive us if he learns that someone else is listening. Wait for me, I'll connect back when I've persuaded him.»
If he were a better leader, a better person, Angel's worry would pull him back, a million reasons to stop and he ignores them all, commits himself into Erik's hands and opens to his mouth, digs his hands into silky hair and pulls just the way he can feel Erik wanting him to do. Just the way Charles wants to do. He wants to press Erik down and touch him everywhere, push him past all that rage, push him til he can't help but let go.
«It's not like you think,» Charles tries to tell him, «we're not collecting mutants, we're freeing each other, and some choose to fight, you could join us,» but he's not sure he's coherent at all, especially when Erik starts stripping him out of his clothes.
He can't give up; he clings to that sliver of responsibility, still trying to get words and ideas through even though his own mind is wrecked with want for the body underneath his, for the man underneath all that fury. «What can I do to convince you, how can I win your trust, I'll do anything. Anything at all.»
*
This man on top of him, this beautiful, rich liar with the mental abilities and the penchant for marks and bruises and the hard-on he isn't even trying to hide-- trust, he's asking for, when he's free and able to cherry-pick an army full of whores out of the halls in the Hellfire Club.
Erik knows without even having to ask that this Dr. Charles Xavier doesn't have to offer twice, most of the time; the mutants here have learned to do their jobs with a minimum of complaint (at least if they're not ordered specifically to complain), and this place is safer than the mines or the labs, but that doesn't mean anyone wants to be here, wants to be hurt and fucked and treated like a thing.
Charles gasps against Erik's mouth, lips parted, trailing sloppy kisses across Erik's face. There is no way Charles is feigning; he's wound too tightly for that, too eager and urgent, panting before he's even got Erik undressed. Good-- good that Charles is eager, good that he clearly wants this, because if anyone else finds out that Erik's collar means nothing, does nothing, they're going to want to know why he's here.
Erik shifts his body, lets Charles tug at the hem of Erik's thin turtleneck. Erik's pushing at Charles's jacket, getting it off his shoulders; Charles pauses in getting Erik out of his shirt in order to toss his jacket aside, dig a finger into the knot of his tie and loosen it still further. From here, he could probably get it over his head, but Erik doesn't give him the chance. He grabs Charles by the necktie and tugs him down, forcing Charles's mouth down for another kiss, and Charles gasps again before shoving Erik down at the shoulders and pulling out of his grip. This time there's no stopping him; he pulls the tie over his head, mussing his hair, leaving his collar upturned at one side, taking away the convenient leash, and he unfastens his top three buttons, showing off a remarkably tempting throat and a hint of a slim-line undershirt beneath his crisp white dress shirt. Erik leans up again, presses his face against Charles's throat. Charles ruts against him, cock rubbing hard against Erik's, but Erik knows better than to bite. Humans-- or closeted mutants like this one, how many have there been, he wonders-- don't select Erik to be marked, they choose him because they think he'll be amazing if he screams, if they can get him to break.
Charles groans out loud, burying his fingers in Erik's hair, holding Erik's face tight against his neck. «Anything,» Charles thinks at him, the voice fuzzy in Erik's thoughts, unclear; there's a cinnamon-burn of lust covering everything.
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Well, here we go:
oh my, I can't believe what Charles got himself into. And I have to wonder what Erik will demand as proof, if he'll demand any, and what the people behind the cameras will have to say to that
Please keep up the great work you two!
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Thank you!
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