Lovers 100 : Het
Title: Het
Summery: Yes… I did it… I actually wrote a GRAPHIC HET anything… reader beware… Well, let me rephrase that- I *tried* to write a graphic het… I think this one got stuck in the Harder-R level and is just a NC-17 wannabe. Oh well… (I’m still afraid for the world- I keep waiting for the four horsemen to show up… Hell’s already frozen over.)
Prompt: Writer’s Choice - 100. Het
Pairing: Gillebeth (Gillette/Elizabeth)
Genre: POTC
Rating: R/NC-17
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Feedback: Yes, please.
Her skin was warm against him as he covered her petite body with his own, pressing her down into the bed. Their tongues battled and plundered as they kissed feverishly.
His strong, rough hands came to grip the curve of her narrow waist, fingers clenching as his arousal rubbed against her thigh.
“A fine specimen of the King’s Royal Navy…” Elizabeth growled teasingly, her breath hot against his skin, as her hands slid down the length of his chest and belly, curving around the base of his throbbing member.
“I have a name.”
“Of course you do… and a fine one, as well… Andrew.” She straightened her shoulders when his hands came up to cup and fondle her breasts.
Andrew scoffed, kissing her for silence. “Your brain has never been connected with your tongue properly, Elizabeth.”
She laughed darkly, “It’s Miss Swann.” She bit and sucked at his lower lip.
“My apologies.” He retorted, in equally sarcastic tones, which cut sharply through the air. He thrust down, entering her in one swift movement.
Elizabeth groaned, head and spine arching back at a sharp curve. She rocked her hips and her slender legs wrapped tightly around his waist, locking at the ankles.
Andrew teased and kissed her neck, teeth grazing against creamy, unblemished skin. When he pulled back, she arched her hips upwards to meet him again as he thrust back down.
She drew him down, feeling the pressure of his body on top of her, loose grin laid out across her lips. “Andrew…”
Andrew breathed hard, clenching his teeth as they arched together. She felt so small and wan against him. Such a clever deception; he knew her for her fiery tongue and wicked mind. She had all the privileges a young woman of class could ask for, and yet she was never satisfied, would never be.
Her wild streak had led her to trail him. His sardonic and dry wit had turned against him, drawing him into sparing matches of words and phrases against her. He had never hated her, did not like her particularly but found her a worthy opponent.
When she had showed up at his door wearing a simple dress, he at first thought not much of it. She was a mischief-maker, always had been, from what James had said. All too keen to play the sweet Governor’s daughter by day, but when alone she sought out ways to satisfy her darker cravings.
He hadn’t suspected in the least that she was keenly lacking in anything beneath the dress, which was lying somewhere in the living room, from between when he had gone to prepare them some tea as a way of propriety and when he had returned.
The tea was also still there, sitting on the table. Long since, cold, no doubt.
Elizabeth sank her teeth into the flesh at his collarbone, leaving a flowering, darkened bruise in her wake.
“Silly girl.”
“Mermaid fancier.”
Andrew moaned as she clenched around him, hot, velvety walls tight around his cock.
“Dear god… Elizabeth…”
“Andrew!” She cried out in earnest reply.
Lips met again and viciously playful tongues once again dueled, breaking free past kiss-swollen lips. Pale stretches of alabaster and cream skin were alight with the heated fires of flush and passion, glinting with dewy sweat in the moonlight as they pawed madly, thrusting and arching, bodies twisting and writhing against one another. Hours drew on and hands grew even more adventurous, grasping, pinching, tweaking.
Andrew dipped his head and assaulted her neck and shoulder, trailing down her bare arm.
Elizabeth tightened her hand around the curve of his arse, squeezing so hard she left an imprint when he thrust.
Around them, the wooden bed frame creaked and protested, rocking on its carved legs.
She groaned and cried out his name when he increased his rhythm, driving deep.
Andrew’s eyes rolled back into his head when she came hard around him. Her legs, strong and dense muscles masked by the thin, delicate shape, squeezed his waist painfully tight. He forced her down into the feather mattress as he plunged and thrust wildly, with a violent force bereft of any sense of rhythm or coherence. When he came, his mouth fell open and he all but howled.
Andrew’s eyes flickered, feeling the warmth of another’s body beside him.
“Good morning.” Elizabeth grinned sultrily at him.
Andrew screamed at the top of his lungs. He breathed hard, chest clenched tight. His eyes were wide as he stared into the darkness ahead, sitting straight and utterly stiff in the bed. He whimpered as his frantic gaze darted around the room, which his fogged mind slowly distinguished as his own. His entire body shook uncontrollably.
Meow.
The angry noise came from beside him and he turned his head to see Anastasie glaring up at him with a look of complete malice. She lowered her head again, flicking her tail over her noise as she settled back in to sleep.
Never before had Andrew been so happy to awaken and find the red cat utterly peeved at him for disturbing her night’s rest.
He settled back down, lying on his side, in his -mercifully- empty bed.
What Andrew woke up next to in his dream… except, she was naked… Use your imagination.
Summery: Yes… I did it… I actually wrote a GRAPHIC HET anything… reader beware… Well, let me rephrase that- I *tried* to write a graphic het… I think this one got stuck in the Harder-R level and is just a NC-17 wannabe. Oh well… (I’m still afraid for the world- I keep waiting for the four horsemen to show up… Hell’s already frozen over.)
Prompt: Writer’s Choice - 100. Het
Pairing: Gillebeth (Gillette/Elizabeth)
Genre: POTC
Rating: R/NC-17
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Feedback: Yes, please.
Her skin was warm against him as he covered her petite body with his own, pressing her down into the bed. Their tongues battled and plundered as they kissed feverishly.
His strong, rough hands came to grip the curve of her narrow waist, fingers clenching as his arousal rubbed against her thigh.
“A fine specimen of the King’s Royal Navy…” Elizabeth growled teasingly, her breath hot against his skin, as her hands slid down the length of his chest and belly, curving around the base of his throbbing member.
“I have a name.”
“Of course you do… and a fine one, as well… Andrew.” She straightened her shoulders when his hands came up to cup and fondle her breasts.
Andrew scoffed, kissing her for silence. “Your brain has never been connected with your tongue properly, Elizabeth.”
She laughed darkly, “It’s Miss Swann.” She bit and sucked at his lower lip.
“My apologies.” He retorted, in equally sarcastic tones, which cut sharply through the air. He thrust down, entering her in one swift movement.
Elizabeth groaned, head and spine arching back at a sharp curve. She rocked her hips and her slender legs wrapped tightly around his waist, locking at the ankles.
Andrew teased and kissed her neck, teeth grazing against creamy, unblemished skin. When he pulled back, she arched her hips upwards to meet him again as he thrust back down.
She drew him down, feeling the pressure of his body on top of her, loose grin laid out across her lips. “Andrew…”
Andrew breathed hard, clenching his teeth as they arched together. She felt so small and wan against him. Such a clever deception; he knew her for her fiery tongue and wicked mind. She had all the privileges a young woman of class could ask for, and yet she was never satisfied, would never be.
Her wild streak had led her to trail him. His sardonic and dry wit had turned against him, drawing him into sparing matches of words and phrases against her. He had never hated her, did not like her particularly but found her a worthy opponent.
When she had showed up at his door wearing a simple dress, he at first thought not much of it. She was a mischief-maker, always had been, from what James had said. All too keen to play the sweet Governor’s daughter by day, but when alone she sought out ways to satisfy her darker cravings.
He hadn’t suspected in the least that she was keenly lacking in anything beneath the dress, which was lying somewhere in the living room, from between when he had gone to prepare them some tea as a way of propriety and when he had returned.
The tea was also still there, sitting on the table. Long since, cold, no doubt.
Elizabeth sank her teeth into the flesh at his collarbone, leaving a flowering, darkened bruise in her wake.
“Silly girl.”
“Mermaid fancier.”
Andrew moaned as she clenched around him, hot, velvety walls tight around his cock.
“Dear god… Elizabeth…”
“Andrew!” She cried out in earnest reply.
Lips met again and viciously playful tongues once again dueled, breaking free past kiss-swollen lips. Pale stretches of alabaster and cream skin were alight with the heated fires of flush and passion, glinting with dewy sweat in the moonlight as they pawed madly, thrusting and arching, bodies twisting and writhing against one another. Hours drew on and hands grew even more adventurous, grasping, pinching, tweaking.
Andrew dipped his head and assaulted her neck and shoulder, trailing down her bare arm.
Elizabeth tightened her hand around the curve of his arse, squeezing so hard she left an imprint when he thrust.
Around them, the wooden bed frame creaked and protested, rocking on its carved legs.
She groaned and cried out his name when he increased his rhythm, driving deep.
Andrew’s eyes rolled back into his head when she came hard around him. Her legs, strong and dense muscles masked by the thin, delicate shape, squeezed his waist painfully tight. He forced her down into the feather mattress as he plunged and thrust wildly, with a violent force bereft of any sense of rhythm or coherence. When he came, his mouth fell open and he all but howled.
Andrew’s eyes flickered, feeling the warmth of another’s body beside him.
“Good morning.” Elizabeth grinned sultrily at him.
Andrew screamed at the top of his lungs. He breathed hard, chest clenched tight. His eyes were wide as he stared into the darkness ahead, sitting straight and utterly stiff in the bed. He whimpered as his frantic gaze darted around the room, which his fogged mind slowly distinguished as his own. His entire body shook uncontrollably.
Meow.
The angry noise came from beside him and he turned his head to see Anastasie glaring up at him with a look of complete malice. She lowered her head again, flicking her tail over her noise as she settled back in to sleep.
Never before had Andrew been so happy to awaken and find the red cat utterly peeved at him for disturbing her night’s rest.
He settled back down, lying on his side, in his -mercifully- empty bed.
What Andrew woke up next to in his dream… except, she was naked… Use your imagination.
