round 3 overflow post

[starkmodistries.livejournal.com]

Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Comments

FILL: Everyday Love in Stockholm 146/?

[tahariel.livejournal.com]

The covers beneath them are still tangled from the morning, crumpled and uneven beneath their bodies; it must be uncomfortable to lie on, and Erik shifts his hands to grip Charles’ neat, narrow hips, before rolling them over, pulling Charles on top of him to straddle Erik, looking down at him with surprise in those bright eyes. “I love you,” Erik says, and his voice is choked, because there has never been a time when he has felt so many things all at once, not so strongly, not for years. It makes Charles’ face go suddenly soft and hot all at once, scratched up as it is with stubble and bee-stung lips, and this time when he rolls his hips Erik feels it right down to his toes, arches his head back and groans, his cock hard and jutting upward, leaking pre-come and begging for attention.

“I love you,” Charles says, and his voice is thick with arousal and things unsaid, half an octave lower than it usually is, throaty and intense. “God, Erik,” and it’s like he can’t help himself when he puts a hand to his own cock and jerks himself once, eyes slipping closed and biting at his own lip, groaning.

It’s impossible not to help, for Erik to put his own hand over Charles’ and drag their fingers up his shaft, not to want him, with every cell in his body. “Let me,” and it’s never going to be a better time than now, when he feels like maybe he could ask and have Charles say yes, when Erik wants it so badly - “Let me fuck you, please, I want - ”

“Do you have anything?” Charles asks, hair wild and tousled from Erik’s hands, thrusting hard into their combined grip, mouth falling open on a gasp that Erik just has to sit up and swallow, almost attacking Charles’ mouth with his own as he pushes himself up so that their chests are crushed together, their hands dragging up along Charles’ length between them, and he has to try twice before he can say, “Nightstand, my side. Really?”

“God, please, I want you,” and Charles is shaking against him, too, though whether with eagerness or fear, Erik can’t tell.

Charles has to let go to reach over to the nightstand, half climbing off Erik’s lap, and it’s cold where he’s been until he comes back, plastering himself tight and close against Erik’s chest like a new coat of paint. He presses the tube into Erik’s hand even while kissing him, sloppy and open-mouthed, legs splayed wide across Erik’s thighs; his body is taut and compact and strong, softer where he hasn’t had to fight his way through enemy after enemy, but spare, lean enough that Erik can feel the muscles shifting under the skin when Charles moves against him, rolling his hips and thrusting against Erik’s belly.

The lubricant is cold on Erik’s fingers, but it warms quickly, and Charles groans when Erik reaches for his ass, leaning into him and hiding his face in Erik’s neck when his fingertips find the crack of his ass, trail with growing confidence down toward Charles’ hole. It clenches tight when he brushes against it, puckered and so small, surely too small.

“Please,” Charles says, and Erik curls his fingers, strokes them over Charles’ hole, and when it earns him a loud gasp and a moan and lips mouthing at the tendons of his neck, does it again, circling it carefully, rubbing the lubricant slick across the taut muscle, getting it wet and pushing against it until just the tip of his finger slips inside.

His hips jerk up against Charles’ without his input, and the friction of his cock against flesh is enough to make him harder still, every inch of his skin hypersensitive. There’s so little room in there, muscle pushing down on him like it’s trying to push him out. “You’re so tight!” Pushing again gets him in to the first knuckle, then the second, until it’s all the way in, and Charles is shaking, lips parted and breathing hot moisture into his shoulder, tight-shut eyes fluttering against his skin. “Mein Gott, Charles, are you - ”