Fic: HP Aggression (Dean/Seamus)
May. 1st, 2007 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77Title: Aggression
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Characters: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Bondage, PWP
Word Count: 800 even
Summary: Dean gets aggressive and Seamus gets fucked. In other words, it’s a normal day in the world of Dean and Seamus.
Author's notes: Beta’d byficlette and any remaining mistakes are my own. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
daily_deviant's birthday fest and originally posted here.
With the words "trust me", Dean's taken control and Seamus finds himself blindfolded. Wrists tied together and then tugged up over his head, he's waiting, unsure but willing. He hasn't seen Dean like this before, not with this sort of aggressiveness in anything other than their discussions of footie, Quidditch and the relative fitness of the men involved. Not that he can see Dean right now.
While he's been pondering where this fierceness came from, Dean's been busy securing his wrists to the headboard. He gives an exploratory tug and finds that he can't move them. His wiggling's quickly rewarded – or punished depending on the viewpoint – by a bite to his collarbone. It only encourages him to wiggle a bit more and another bite ensues, hard enough that he knows it'll leave a mark, this time on his neck. Opening his mouth to gasp, he finds fabric instead of air and chokes. The cotton is odd on his tongue, fuzzy and unexpected. It also tastes like old socks. He really hopes that Dean didn't just shove a pair in his mouth.
"They're not socks, twat," comes Dean's voice and Seamus grins around his mouthful.
Dean's mouth is on his neck, lipping at the bite and then trailing down his chest, across his sternum and then to his abdomen. Seamus wants Dean's mouth on his cock but, he thinks that might not be a possibility, not with the way that Dean's tormenting him. Those lips are everywhere but Seamus's cock.
Seamus has enough time to regret that stupid dare he'd made before Dean's hands are on his legs, spreading them further. Icy cold fingers touch his arse and Seamus can't help the reflexive jerk away from them. A nip comes to his inner thigh. He relaxes back down and Dean's fingers are in him, touching and spreading.
He opens his eyes and expects to be able to see Dean's serious expression, all concentration and need, but the blackness reminds him that he's blindfolded and helpless to whatever Dean wants to do to him. Whatever it is, he isn't going to see it coming. Instead of worrying him, it intrigues him, makes him use his imagination.
Dean's pushing his legs up, looped over those broad shoulders until he's curled into himself. Dean's cock is pressing into him, not quite gentle but not quite rough either. It's hurried and languid at the same time, something that Seamus doesn't quite understand but knows is possible because this is Dean. He's always moved like that, hurrying to class with a languid grace that made Seamus think that they had plenty of time even when he found himself scrambling to keep up.
The heat starts building as Dean slides in, balls deep. Dean thrusts again, this time harder. Seamus's leg muscles scream as they're pushed just beyond his flexibility. His head inches towards his hands as Dean thrusts, over and over, harder and harder. Soon, it's frantic and there's sweat dripping onto his chest. He can feel each drop as it impacts. Some of it drips onto his legs first, running down his inner thighs and tickling. He's so focused on the feeling that he forgets that he can't see, that sometimes it's not all sensation and motion and Dean.
His orgasm sneaks up on him, surprising him when his balls tighten and then he's chewing fabric as he comes, colour popping into his vision, reds and greens and blues all spotting the blackness. Dean's still moving though there's a wet slipslide noise as he thrusts.
His teeth are on Seamus's inner thigh as he comes, biting down. When Dean collapses, face pressed against his chest, Seamus's legs won't cooperate; they're too cramped and he's curious if he pulled a muscle when Dean bent him in half. He wonders how his arms will feel once they're untied but Dean isn't budging Had it not been for the subtle varying pressure of Dean's chest on his cock, he'd wonder if Dean was even breathing.
He works his jaw, trying to spit out whatever it was that Dean pushed into his mouth. The fabric finally pops out though the taste of old socks is still in his mouth.
"Dean?" He asks, afraid that Dean's fallen asleep and left Seamus with his arms tied over his head.
"Mph," comes the response and Seamus grins.
"Deany, me boy, could you please be untying me?" Dean mumbles something and doesn't shift. "Come on, be a mate."
Dean barely shifts and Seamus is about to start cursing at him but then there's a muttered word and the bindings loosen enough for Seamus to lower his arms. His shoulders pop as his hands settle on Dean's back.
Wherever this aggressiveness came from, Seamus hopes that it comes back to visit in the future.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Concrit welcomed
Author:
wook77Characters: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Bondage, PWP
Word Count: 800 even
Summary: Dean gets aggressive and Seamus gets fucked. In other words, it’s a normal day in the world of Dean and Seamus.
Author's notes: Beta’d by
ficlette and any remaining mistakes are my own. Written for daily_deviant's birthday fest and originally posted here.With the words "trust me", Dean's taken control and Seamus finds himself blindfolded. Wrists tied together and then tugged up over his head, he's waiting, unsure but willing. He hasn't seen Dean like this before, not with this sort of aggressiveness in anything other than their discussions of footie, Quidditch and the relative fitness of the men involved. Not that he can see Dean right now.
While he's been pondering where this fierceness came from, Dean's been busy securing his wrists to the headboard. He gives an exploratory tug and finds that he can't move them. His wiggling's quickly rewarded – or punished depending on the viewpoint – by a bite to his collarbone. It only encourages him to wiggle a bit more and another bite ensues, hard enough that he knows it'll leave a mark, this time on his neck. Opening his mouth to gasp, he finds fabric instead of air and chokes. The cotton is odd on his tongue, fuzzy and unexpected. It also tastes like old socks. He really hopes that Dean didn't just shove a pair in his mouth.
"They're not socks, twat," comes Dean's voice and Seamus grins around his mouthful.
Dean's mouth is on his neck, lipping at the bite and then trailing down his chest, across his sternum and then to his abdomen. Seamus wants Dean's mouth on his cock but, he thinks that might not be a possibility, not with the way that Dean's tormenting him. Those lips are everywhere but Seamus's cock.
Seamus has enough time to regret that stupid dare he'd made before Dean's hands are on his legs, spreading them further. Icy cold fingers touch his arse and Seamus can't help the reflexive jerk away from them. A nip comes to his inner thigh. He relaxes back down and Dean's fingers are in him, touching and spreading.
He opens his eyes and expects to be able to see Dean's serious expression, all concentration and need, but the blackness reminds him that he's blindfolded and helpless to whatever Dean wants to do to him. Whatever it is, he isn't going to see it coming. Instead of worrying him, it intrigues him, makes him use his imagination.
Dean's pushing his legs up, looped over those broad shoulders until he's curled into himself. Dean's cock is pressing into him, not quite gentle but not quite rough either. It's hurried and languid at the same time, something that Seamus doesn't quite understand but knows is possible because this is Dean. He's always moved like that, hurrying to class with a languid grace that made Seamus think that they had plenty of time even when he found himself scrambling to keep up.
The heat starts building as Dean slides in, balls deep. Dean thrusts again, this time harder. Seamus's leg muscles scream as they're pushed just beyond his flexibility. His head inches towards his hands as Dean thrusts, over and over, harder and harder. Soon, it's frantic and there's sweat dripping onto his chest. He can feel each drop as it impacts. Some of it drips onto his legs first, running down his inner thighs and tickling. He's so focused on the feeling that he forgets that he can't see, that sometimes it's not all sensation and motion and Dean.
His orgasm sneaks up on him, surprising him when his balls tighten and then he's chewing fabric as he comes, colour popping into his vision, reds and greens and blues all spotting the blackness. Dean's still moving though there's a wet slipslide noise as he thrusts.
His teeth are on Seamus's inner thigh as he comes, biting down. When Dean collapses, face pressed against his chest, Seamus's legs won't cooperate; they're too cramped and he's curious if he pulled a muscle when Dean bent him in half. He wonders how his arms will feel once they're untied but Dean isn't budging Had it not been for the subtle varying pressure of Dean's chest on his cock, he'd wonder if Dean was even breathing.
He works his jaw, trying to spit out whatever it was that Dean pushed into his mouth. The fabric finally pops out though the taste of old socks is still in his mouth.
"Dean?" He asks, afraid that Dean's fallen asleep and left Seamus with his arms tied over his head.
"Mph," comes the response and Seamus grins.
"Deany, me boy, could you please be untying me?" Dean mumbles something and doesn't shift. "Come on, be a mate."
Dean barely shifts and Seamus is about to start cursing at him but then there's a muttered word and the bindings loosen enough for Seamus to lower his arms. His shoulders pop as his hands settle on Dean's back.
Wherever this aggressiveness came from, Seamus hopes that it comes back to visit in the future.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-02 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 02:43 am (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-02 01:07 pm (UTC)*whimpers*
Um, I'll just be over in the corner trying to recover from this. Seamus... I love your Seamus, he's becoming more and more the way I see him with every passing fic, of which I mean the voice you give him and the way he is. Also aggressive!dean - ZOMG!!! teh hawtness.
I seriously needed some Deamus and something to get me reading again and this got me right from the start.
You rock my, er, socks!!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 02:44 am (UTC)Glad I gots you all hots and botheredededed.
I'm glad you enjoyed and yeah, seamus is a cocky bastard even on the bottom and bent in half.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-02 05:15 pm (UTC)I like agressive!forceful!Dean *nods*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 02:45 am (UTC)I like forceful!dean too. In fact, there needs to be MORE forceful!dean out there in the world.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 12:12 pm (UTC)Meanwhile I'll be ever so flaily if you decide to write more forceful!Dean... *nods*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 02:46 am (UTC)Not wrong at all, not wrong indeed.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-16 10:46 pm (UTC)I dont see many seme-Dean fics, so, I'm glad I got the chance to read this one.
Amazing job. Keep it up. :D