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[masseurrsvp]

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[secrettantric]

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[chris-bodywork-euston]

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[chrismasseur1]

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[w2soneshots]

Wife material -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cowgirl, established relationship.

summary: you and your soon to be husband spend a romantic night together before you tie the knot.

notes: hello loves! I haven’t been getting any Harry requests recently (send em in) so I thought I’d just write a smut😭. I hope you enjoy!!❤️‍🔥🫶🏼

In a week's time I'm going to be marrying my best friend, the love of my life. Me and Harry have been together for over seven years. He proposed last year and we've been planning our small and intimate wedding for six months.

It's been quite stressful getting everything sorted, from the dress, to the venue, food, the guests and everything else that comes along with weddings. We're only having around forty people so that takes the weight off a little bit.

I spent all of my day running around London to get the last few things done. When I returned home I opened the front door to see that the lights were dimmed and that there was a trail of rose petals leading to the kitchen. I was surprised to say the least. Me and Harry aren't a really romantic, soppy couple so things like this never really happen.

I dropped the bags in my hands and followed the red petals. Harry stood by our dining table with a sheepish smile. I walked up to him and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He instinctively placed his hands on my waist. I pecked him quickly on the lips as I pulled away to look at him.

"All this for me?" I smiled. "You deserve it. You've been so busy I thought it'd be nice to spend some time together. So I made dinner." He looked slightly embarrassed. "Ugh, I love you." I kissed him once more and then moved away to look at the food.

I sat down. "My favourite." I smiled as he sat opposite me. We started eating and he asked me about my day. I told him all about the nightmare I had trying to pick up the bridesmaids dresses along with my review of the new restaurant that just opened down the street, which is where I stopped off for lunch. He listened with an amused look on his face.

After eating dinner I was quick to offer to do the dishes. Harry protested for a few minutes before he gave up, but he still helped. As I placed the last dish on the drying rack I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my torso.

Harry peppered soft kisses along my shoulder. I leaned back into him, humming happily. His grip tightened slightly. We stood there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before I turned around in his arms.

I stared up at him. His hands moved down to the back of my thighs, he lifted me onto the counter in one swift motion. My fingers gently raked through his hair. "Mmm." He hummed quietly, then pulled me into a strong kiss. We weren't rushing anything, it was slow and passionate.

After a few minutes Harry lifted me again and walked us both into our bedroom. He placed me down on the bed, quickly crawling on top of me. My hands moved down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He quickly did the same with my tank top, leaving me in just a small, lacy bra.

He glanced down at my exposed torso. "Can't wait to marry you. 'm so lucky." He whispered. I smiled, pulling him back into the kiss. I hummed as his hand grabbed my breast, gently massaging it. "Pants, take them off." I breathed into his mouth.

Harry quickly moved off of me, leaning against the headboard, so he could shuffle his sweatpants and boxers off in one go, I did the same. Once I was finished and completely naked -other than my bra- I hiked my leg over Harry's lap and straddled his legs.

He placed a hand on the back of my neck to pull me into him, connecting our lips once again. His other hand traveled down to my dripping cunt. He swiped a finger through my folds making me gasp, he quickly slipped his tongue into my mouth. Then he began circling my clit, I let out a quiet whine.

I shifted my hips. "Harry..." I trailed off. "You ready love?" He asked, voice low. "Mhm." I managed to mumble. He removed his hand for a second while he lined his painfully hard cock up with my entrance. A deep groan escaped his lips and his eyes momentarily shut as I slowly sank down.

"Christ- y/n..." he placed his hands on my hips, gripping tightly. I began moving and he helped to keep a steady rhythm. He buried his head into the crook of my neck. I threw my head back and gripped his hair tight as his dick perfectly touched my g-spot.

"Fuck, Harry- I'm close!" I moaned. Tears streamed down my face. "So am I. Come baby, come on my cock." He muttered. For the first time ever we came at the exact same time. It felt unbelievable. We both breathed heavily as we caught our breaths, my head fell to his chest. "That was-" Harry mumbled into my hair. "yeah, that was..." words couldn't even describe the feeling.

[mapiforpresident]

17 for leah, pls :)

A Night of Comfort

Leah x reader

warnings: none

The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as you navigated the familiar streets of London, anticipation bubbling in your chest. It had been a long day, but you couldn't wait to see Leah, your girlfriend and teammate, and whisk her away on a romantic dinner date.

Leah Williamson, the heart and soul of Arsenal and the Lionesses, had been through her fair share of trials recently. Just when she had returned from a grueling ACL tear, a minor hamstring injury had set her back once again. You admired Leah's resilience and determination, but also understood the toll these setbacks took on her spirit.

As you pulled up to the physiotherapy clinic where Leah had spent the better part of her day, your heart sank at the sight of your girlfriend's furrowed brow and tense posture. It was clear that Leah was in no mood for a night out.

With a gentle smile, you approached Leah, her heart swelling with love and concern. "Hey there, beautiful," you greeted, reaching out to brush a stray lock of the now shorter hair from Leah's face. "Rough day?"

Leah's expression softened at the sight of you, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fatigue and gratitude. "You could say that," she admitted, her voice laced with weariness.

Without hesitation, you made a split-second decision. You knew that what Leah needed most was not a fancy dinner out, but rather, a night of comfort and relaxation. With a reassuring squeeze of Leah's hand, you guided her towards the waiting car.

"We're going home," you declared, her tone gentle but firm. "I've got something special planned for us."

Leah raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but she trusted you implicitly. As you arrived home, you wasted no time in setting the scene for your impromptu evening in.

With soft music playing in the background and candles casting a warm glow around the room, you ordered Leah's favorite takeout and settled on the couch to watch Lord of the Rings, knowing it was one of Leah's favorite movies. You lay with your back against the armrest, so Leah could lay on her stomach in between your legs knowing it was her favorite position to cuddle in.

As the evening progressed, you noticed the lingering tension in Leah's muscles, despite her attempts to relax. Determined to ease your girlfriend's discomfort, you suggested you both take a soothing bath together, the warm water and flickering candlelight creating a sense of serenity.

"C'mon love," you said as you guided Leah into the bath with lavender scented bubbles. About twenty minutes later, the water was starting to get cold and Leah was still a little tense, not even turning around to try to make you use of you both being naked. You got her out of the tub and handed her a towel as you walked to the dresser to get pajamas.

“Thanks baby.” Leah told you after you handed her the towel and began to dry herself off.

“Do you want my old england hoodie or your arsenal one you like?” you called out to her from the bedroom.

“Yours please.”

Before you handed her the hoodie to put on, you decided Leah needed a massage. You told Leah to lay out on the bed once she had appeared from the bathroom as you went to get the massage oil.

She played face down on the bed knowing that after a massage from her favorite person her muscles and mind would both finally be able to relax. You hopped on the bed and straddled her thighs, leaning down to give her some kisses down her neck and back. “Ready love,” you asked getting the oil ready. All you heard in response was a grumble you assumed meant yes.

As you started to massage Leah's tense shoulders, they gradually relaxed, the knots and kinks melting away . With each gentle stroke, you whispered words of encouragement and reassurance, reminding Leah of her strength and resilience. You wanted her to know you be there for her no matter what, especially on the tougher days.

"Love you," Leah whispered finally feeling at ease.

Before long, Leah's exhaustion caught up with her, her eyelids growing heavy as your skilled hands worked their magic. With a contented sigh, she surrendered to the blissful sensation, her body finally succumbing to much-needed rest.

As you carefully slid the hoodie over Leah's shoulders, you couldn't help but smile at the peaceful expression on her face. Curling up beside her on the bed, you wrapped your arms around Leah, holding her close as you also drifted off to sleep. You knew these hard moments would only make Leah stronger.

[sebastianswallows]

Beautiful memories — Chapter 2

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, then a lot of fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— A/N: Here's part 2 of the fic requested by my dear @pugsnotdrugs92 💕 I expect the next chapter will be the last (and it will be the one with the smutt). Enjoy, my dears! 😘

— TAGGING: @rbdiggory @sammysgirl1997

The house she rented was near London, on the outer edges. Looking out the window, Sebastian could see empty dirt fields all around, land prepared for more construction, and to the side toward the south plumes of chimney smoke coming from the city. The grey skies were turning red with sunset.

A couple of lamps turned on behind him in the room, he could see their glow reflected in the window. Cutting through them, a shadow approached. She hugged him from behind.

“I must’ve told you a hundred times today,” she said with her cheek pressed against his back, “but I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said.

It was true. He’d missed her every day, and every memory of her the Dementors pulled out was like a splinter chipped off of his heart. But since learning of her… situation, he no longer knew what he felt. Was it hatred? Was it rage? Was there even a feeling left inside of him for her, or was the hatred and the rage all for himself?

“Come on,” she said with a calm and loving voice, blissfully ignorant of the storm raging inside him, “let’s give you a little wash.”

She had him sit on the sofa in front of the lit fireplace, and one by one the space before him filled with bowls of water pitchers and little mounds of towels. He wasn’t sure how he looked anymore, he’d only caught the faintest reflection of himself in the window, but he imagined it wasn’t good. His hair felt matted, his skin crusted with dirt, and he didn’t even want to look at all the bruises anymore…

After she placed everything she needed, she brought him chocolate to eat, and on the table next to him she placed a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Sebastian smiled as he picked up a little chocolate square and let melt on his tongue. He remembered reading about this remedy against Dementors in his third year. How long ago that was…

While he ate the sweets, she tended to him. She took his jacket off, his boots, his tie and vest and shirt, and limb by limb she scraped the dirt away, while his feet rested in warm salt water. She had the nerve to blush when she cleaned down his chest, her hands moving slow and enticing. When she reached his thighs, she worked down each one with both hands, sneaking glances up at him through her long lashes.

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat, but he no longer had it in him to be aroused at the sight. At least, not yet. The picture of her at his feet, his naked skin beneath her hands — bruised and bony as he was — was soiled by the thought of what Ominis would think if he saw this…

The next hour was spent cleaning the wounds on his wrists and ankles, applying salves wherever she found the smallest scrape or bruise, and then washing his hair. She placed a basin on a table behind the sofa and had him lean back, close his eyes, and gave him a bit more chocolate. Her fingers soothed his nerves as they massaged his scalp, lathering him slowly, untangling the knots made across so many restless nights… She rinsed the foam out, and then lathered his hair again until she was satisfied that he was clean. He was covered in a blanket by now, feet warming by the fire.

Once he was dry, she brought new clothes out for him — just a comfortable pair of nightclothes to start.

Sebastian let her dress him, but stayed silent the whole while. Unnaturally silent.

“How do you feel?” she asked with an encouraging smile as she rubbed the towel against his still-damp hair.

He avoided the question. “I should be asking you that.”

“Oh?” she giggled. “How so?”

“How far along?” he asked brusquely, not even looking at her.

“Six months,” she said with a sad smile, her hands threading gently through his hair.

Sebastian nodded and was quiet for long moments while the feelings he’d kept trying to hold back bubbled to the surface. Then, all of a sudden, he got up and walked all the way around the sofa. He started to pace up and down the centre of the room.

It wasn’t exactly unexpected… What did he, a convicted murderer with a broken wand, have to offer somebody like her? And who else to take her from him than Ominis — wealthier, more handsome, well-connected, kind and gentle and always far more level-headed than he ever was.

He should be happy for her, if he loved her. But he couldn’t manage it.

“I’d like to go,” he said, looking aimlessly around, everywhere but at her.

“What? Why?”

“I can’t stay here…”

“But —”

“I can’t.”

“Sebas—”

“It was difficult enough,” he started, “to be in there, wondering about you all the time, doubting whether… whether you would even want to speak to me after everything. But to see… to see you and…”

“And what?” she asked tearfully.

Sebastian took a deep breath in, then out. His swallowed thoughts and feelings poured out of him faster than he could control them.

“Every good memory I ever had was drained out of me, every day, every day,” he mumbled, “but however bad it was, I still thought… I still had… you.”

“Sebastian,” she whispered, approaching him slowly, “what are you talking about? You do have me, you do.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, working up the courage to say it. The chime of her steps on the wooden floor rang like a death knell in his ears.

“Seeing you and Ominis today…” he spat, sounding exactly as angry and betrayed and lonely as he felt, “was worse than any thoughts the Dementors put in my head.”

She stood there quietly and listened in a state of shock. Nothing he was saying made sense. Wasn’t he happy to see his friends? Was this an effect of his imprisonment? Would it go away with time? He sounded jealous, but he couldn't be. Nothing had changed between the three of them since they were at Hogwarts — nothing aside from…

“I should have known,” he continued, shaking his head as if he could get rid of the awful thoughts, “I should have known when you were always at the trial together, always whispering to each other…”

“Sebastian,” she said, speaking more sharply than she meant to, “whatever you think happened between me and Ominis, it didn’t.”

He looked down at her, his eyes dull and bleary but full of anger.

She met his gaze and held it gently, and reached out to take his hand. “Is this what you’re worried about?” she asked as she placed his palm on her lightly swollen stomach. “Because this is ours.”

She said it as if it had been the most obvious thing, but it struck Sebastian like a revelation. Suddenly, he looked at her as if she were a new person, and as if he were new as well. His frown relaxed and his lips lost their tension and the brown in his eyes turned sweet again from the smoulder that was there before.

“W-what?”

“That night after they announced your trial… Remember?” she said with a shy smile, blushing a little. “It’s ours. I was never involved with Ominis, we’re friends, like we’ve always been… It’s you I love, you I want, you I’ve been carrying this for.”

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat and looked down at her body, his hand still on her stomach. He nearly had forgotten… How could he? How could he? After years of circling around each other that night of finally confessing, finally accepting their love… It had meant everything to him, and if only for a moment it eclipsed his past sins and the looming trial and made everything fade into nothingness. Showing his love for her had been the sweetest moment of his life… So, how could he have forgotten it?

“The Dementors,” she frowned, answering it for him. “They steal happy memories, that is what they feed on.”

“I suppose they must’ve had a feast with that,” he said with a hoarse chuckle.

“My poor darling,” she whispered, her hand going up to cup his cheek. She knew she couldn’t begin to understand what had been done to him. Even seeing it unfold distraught her...

Sebastian, meanwhile, was fixated, fascinated, his hand warming on her tummy. “Mine,” he muttered, his hand caressing the expanse of her little swell. “W-wow…”

He was just beginning to understand what it meant: how wrong he’d been about her, about Ominis too, and about himself… And how beautiful of a future they had together now.

It also made him realise how horrible he’d been to her so far.

“I’m sorry,” he said briskly, looking into her eyes again.

“Why?” she frowned.

“For doubting you. For being ungrateful, most of all…”

“Oh Seb,” she sighed, and in the same breath reached up to hug him. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it at first,” she whispered. “I know I should have. I just… felt so uncomfortable about it, so —”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

His arms tightened around her back. “We’re both ashamed then. And we both shouldn’t be.”

She laughed a little. “I suppose so…”

Sebastian leaned back enough to look into her eyes again and his right hand cupped her cheek. With a trembling thumb, he wiped away a little tear that beaded at her lashes.

“And I’ve been letting you fuss over me all day,” he smiled sadly, wanting to sink into the ground with guilt.

“Don’t be silly,” she chuckled. “I’ve been alright… It’s you I’m worried about.”

“There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

He knew it wasn’t really true, he knew he was still troubled and far from the man she used to know, but he was determined — especially now — to put Azkaban and all its woes behind him.

She hugged him loosely at the hips and smiled up at him, drinking in the beautiful sight of her Sebastian with finally a little bit of hope in his eyes.

“So what do you think?” she grinned. “Will you let me take care of you now?”

“I should be taking care of you. I did this to you, after all,” he said with a cocked brow. His hands slid down her neck and to her shoulders before settling around her waist, and all the while he looked her up and down suggestively.

She blushed at the shamelessness of him. “How about we take care of each other?” she chuckled.

“Well, you’ve already taken care of me enough for today,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I think it’s my turn now.”

She giggled and shook her head, but found her heart fluttering excitedly, just like it used to when they were still at Hogwarts, young and careless and in love… Of course, they were still quite young, and very much in love. They just needed to work on being careless again.

“And how do you propose to do that?” she whispered.

His arms wrapped around her waist more tightly and he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“That’s exactly how,” he said dreamily. “I’m going to propose.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She pulled away enough to look at him. She could tell that he was being serious.

“You don’t expect I’ll let you go on this way, will you?” he said. His gaze was playful but with a serious edge beneath it. “We shall have to marry soon. This month. This week, if possible... Then we can go somewhere nice and quiet for a while, so neither your family nor any of our friends will be able to tell the months…”

“Seb, you’re not ready yet…”

“What am I, one of Garreth’s potions? I’m ready when I say I am.”

She laughed in spite of herself.

“So, what do you say?” he grinned.

And he pulled himself away from her, and held her hands in his, and with a surety that he had until now thought lost to him forever he got down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

She didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes. I will. I love you.”

Sebastian’s smile was so big and broad that it hurt his cheeks. It was so nice to have a dream come true every now and then… It felt like he’d been given a new life, a new soul that wasn’t tarnished, a fresh heart to love her with. His arms curled around her waist and he rested his weary head against her stomach, his eyes closed, and his ear to the little life inside her.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Both of you.”

He heard and felt her giggle, and then her hands came down to his ruffled head. She covered him like a star-speckled and cloud-soft firmament, and he’d never felt more safe.

[fayes-fics]

Show Them All

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Err, window sex? That's all I've got tbh...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: While my muse was not cooperating a couple of weeks ago I used Discord kink roulette wheels and it served the following: Benedict + modern + exhibitionism. So here's what I came up with for that. This is set in the same universe as Coming Home. It's all under the cut as its filth from the first sentence. Enjoy! <3

The glass is cold against your nipples. A contrast to the hot hand buried in your hair, fingernails gently scratching the base of your scalp in a way that makes your whole body tingle. He leans forward.

“Show them,” he dusks into your ear, teething your lobe as he does so. “Show them all how much you want it.”

He leans his upper body away slightly but presses his pelvis snug to your bare bottom to underline his command, making you exhale raggedly, puffing fleeting circles of mist onto the floor-to-ceiling window pane.

The skyline of London glitters all around you. In this luxury hotel penthouse suite, there are probably hundreds of windows in the surrounding buildings. Any of them could contain someone looking at you right now—could see this debauched tableau. You completely naked, him fully clothed, standing behind you, teasing you with strokes of his solid cock straining under luxury fabric. 

So you do as told. Widen your stance and go up on tiptoes, tilting your hips and grinding backwards into him. Shamelessly, silently begging to be fucked.

“That’s it,” he urges, cadence decadent, the hand in your hair sliding heavily down your spine, mapping your contours, then spanking the side of your bare bum cheek as you writhe. “My desperate little one. What do you need?”

“You, sir,” your response is an instant reflex, hands streaking down the pristine glass as you attempt to find leverage for your movements.

“No. Be specific,” he warns with a taunting tone.

“Your cock, sir,” you amend breathily.

“That’s right, little one” 

You can almost hear his triumphant smirk. You grind harder in a circular motion, hoping to goad him into action. He harshly spanks your right cheek, making you jump. You want to squeal with victory when he stills your movements, and you feel him lowering his zip, knowing he wears no underwear. He never does; claims it’s easier, so he can just unzip and take you anytime he wants. Which, to be fair, he does with refreshing regularity. 

Just last night, he ordered you into his lap as soon as you located your seats in the practically deserted cinema. Cockwarming him under your maxi dress through a two-hour film, your pussy weeping. Every laugh he made, you felt inside and wanted to curse his name, mindless with need. But you obediently sat still, leaning back into him; a reward always comes your way. And surely enough, as the credits rolled, he made you orgasm silently, his fingers strumming your swollen clit, your fluttering muscles massaging his cock, taking him over the edge too.

Now, tonight, he wants you to put on another show. Perform for him. Potentially for others, too. And fuck if it doesn’t arouse you to a nearly painful degree to do so. You want the world to know. When you play like this, it’s the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You eagerly do things you never imagined you would.

“Do you see anyone watching?” he queries, his cock now in his hand, teasing you with his tip.

You refocus your eyes to look out, to see if you have an audience. While you are scanning, something catches your eye. In but some expensive modern flat, a young couple is looking up from their bedroom window. Their place looks as sleek as your suite, maybe more so.

“Yes,” you hiss, a ripple of excitement passing through your being at the idea you have an audience, an attractive one, too. “A young couple.”

“Give them a good show then, my girl,” he challenges, holding his cock at your puffy, weeping channel. “You know what to do,” he adds casually.

With a steadying exhale, you line up with his guidance and sink backwards onto his cock, moaning as you do. Every time, it feels like it’s too much, stretching you wide, feeling every contour as you sink. Keep pressing until his tip nudges the top of your channel; your bum now flush with his body, the tiny metallic teeth of his trouser zipper grazing your bum cheek.

“Good girl,” This time, it’s gravelly, broken.

You look down at the couple and see them fondling each other as they continue to stare up at you. Part of you wants to wave in acknowledgement; part of you doesn’t want to do anything to discourage them. 

“Move my girl,” he reminds, a hand wrapping around your hipbone, fingers flexing in a pattern to indicate how you should move.

So you do. Hands on the glass, you pull forward until just his tip is inside you, then push backwards, spearing yourself onto him, rolling your eyes as you do, your toes scrunching on the cool, shiny quartz floor. 

“Where are they?” he asks as you begin at a languid pace. 

“Over to the left, that grey building, about four storeys down,” you huff as you fuck yourself onto him.

He seems to be scanning the scene, then makes a little triumphant noise in his throat when he spies who you mean.

“Oh my girl, they are touching each other,” he preens, his breathing uneven where you push back into him, more insistent now. 

He changes his stance, a hand rounding low on your belly as he crowds into your back.

“Let’s give them a real show, hmm?” he murmurs.

You cry out as he thrusts so vigorously that you rock onto your tiptoes, hands scrabbling on the smooth glass for purchase. His arms band tight around your torso and heave you back onto him as he starts to fuck into you fiercely, setting the pace now.

“Don’t look anywhere but them,” he commands as you whimper under his frenzied movements, caged in his strong embrace. You can barely move; just hang on as he fucks deep; he feels so steely as he plunges hard, thrusting you open vehemently, skirting that line of pleasure-pain that is so intoxicating.

You tilt your head down to look at them. They are naked now and hands buried between legs, their gaze intent on you, 

“Describe what you see, my girl; I need detail,” he huffs, his punishing speed never wavering.

“They… they are naked,” you begin, each word tremulant between heaving breaths.

“And?” It’s stern; he wants more.

“Hands are between legs,” you add, panting now and rapidly losing the ability to do anything but moan and go limp.

“Like this,” he silks, and you cry out as his fingertips brush your clit.

“Yes sir, oh fuck…” your whole body jolting as if struck by lightning, “don’t stop please, please,” you plead, spiralling dizzily fast towards your peak as he flicks your swollen soaked pearl, aching to come.

As you approach that mindless moment, he stills his hand motions, and you wail instinctively.

“Earn it,” he growls, still thrusting into you so powerfully that your body rolls in his arms with each stroke. “Tell me in detail what they are doing,” he clarifies, angling his head to suck on your neck. “Then I will let you come screaming.” 

He can clearly see for himself exactly what the other couple are doing. But he wants to hear you say it. Describe it. A thrill for him to listen to you struggle to talk dirty as he fucks you roughly.

“Th-they are on the bed now, but they are still looking at us. I think they are fucking. One is on top of the other; they are moving rhythmically,” you stutter out, seeing their bodies moving in an undulating motion, 

“Yessss, my girl,” he grits triumphantly, “you did that. Begging for my cock like you did. Are you proud? You should be,”

“Yes, sir.” blooming under his praise.

“My good girl,” he moans, his breath gusting hard into your nape from the sustained effort.

“Please, sir, your fingers,” you implore, ”you promised.” You whine, unashamed how wanton you sound.

His chuckle into your hair is rich. “Okay, okay, my darling girl. I can feel how much you need it,” he acknowledges.

Then he touches your clit, and it’s like a live wire. He grunts and has to hold you down on his thrusting cock as you buck and squeal, so much pent-up arousal you are already over-sensitive. You do exactly as he said you would—coming screaming after just a few seconds. Thrown metaphorically into a tornado, your whole body shuddering and convulsing in his stronghold. He swears and bites your neck, the convulsing constriction of your cunt too much to withstand. Overwhelmed by the sheer strength of you rippling around him, he loses control and comes hard, too, jolting deep within you, snarling into your ear, hands vice-like on your body.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he exhales raggedly as you feel his warm bloom inside. “I had plans to keep fucking you until you came again, ” he gusts, winded, smushing you into the glass, his weight slumped into yours, chest heaving against your spine.

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling genuinely contrite.

“Don’t be,” he reassures with a kiss on your cheek as his softening cock slips from inside you. “Don’t ever apologise for making me come,” he smiles, and you giggle; your play scene finished. You are just back to yourselves - just you and sweet Ben. 

“They are done too,” he observes wryly after a few moments, casually nodding to the couple below, who seem to be lying entwined and spent.

“Should we give them a thumbs up?” You jest, twisting to catch his eye, a mischievous glint there that you know is agreement.

Without another word, both of you turn with goofy grins and hold both thumbs aloft at the couple. 

“Shit,” Benedict guffaws as you watch them startle and almost fall off the bed in shock, diving under the covers. “Guess they didn’t realise we were watching them too,” he assesses bemused.

You turn around in his arms to face him and kiss lazily, a sated hum in your being. 

“Next time, tie me up,” you request; he loves it when you voice new scenes that appeal to you.

“You want me to fuck you against this window bound in rope?” He checks, a playful eyebrow rising as an enthralled smile claims his handsome features.

“Please,” you nod happily, “your binding is so beautifully intricate; it deserves an audience.”

“I love you,” he responds, his tone devout.

You tilt your forehead to his, smiling over his lips. “I love you too, Benedict.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[anincompletelist]

⭑ happy kinktober! ⭑

here's everything I have to offer skjhdfgkjshgf <3

(all fics within this category will be rated E unless stated otherwise! fics are arranged in order of length)

the kinktober '24 collection

any fics/ficlets posted throughout october 2024, in one place for easier navigation.

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like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind | 3k

Alex is stuck in his own head and stressed with Henry being gone to the UK for the last week or so. He reaches his breaking point, and Henry comes home to catch him... in a rather creative and wet way.

kinks: coming untouched, the shower head fic, dom henry/sub alex

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more than just the nine to five | 5k

The intersection of a spiteful ex boyfriend, a holiday party, a vibrating anal plug, and the man he's been pining over for years isn't exactly what Henry expects of his Friday night. It's what he gets anyway.

kinks: toys/vibrators, forced (but consensual) orgasm, overstim

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someone to seek, someone to soothe | 5k

He was sweetheart at first, be it sarcastic or a hint of something more. Then he was baby, all those times when they were sneaking around, breathy and desperate on Alex’s lips. He’s been a handful of sweet endearments in Spanish, from cariño to mi tesoro to amor and many others in the heat of passion or just day to day. What’s one more to the list then, really? Hen, H, sweetheart, baby, cariño… Daddy.

kinks: daddy kink, daddy dom henry, kink exploration

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keep me in the moment (don't it feel so real?) | 8k

Henry makes erotic audios. Alex is his best friend. He probably shouldn't listen to them. He does anyway.

kinks: audio porn, friends to lovers, masturbation, dirty talk

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make it five | M | 8k

Alex works at a sex toy shop. it's usually a pretty easy job — if he could just stop daydreaming about the blonde guy that keeps coming in to buy literally all of Alex's favorite sex toys.

note: not explicit but still deals heavily with sex toys and kink ;)

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rush | 9k

Alex isn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten to this point. They’re in London for the week, knocking out a few of Henry’s dwindling royal appearances in the meantime amidst some sightseeing Alex is making Henry take him on (Henry hates coming back here now that they’re settled in New York, and Alex will be damned if he doesn’t do literally everything in his power to keep him distracted and happy). Which, apparently, seems like it’s going to include pissing himself.

kinks: watersports, desperation, kink exploration, dom/sub

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you can waltz right in, I won't pick or choose (I was made for you) | 12k

Henry gives Alex the last stubborn pieces of himself that he's been trying to keep locked away. It only takes seven orgasms to do it.

kinks: overstimulation/multiple orgasms, subspace, dom alex/sub henry, rimming, frottage, slight somnophilia

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it's like I told you, the water's warmer underneath (I know you find it hard to breathe) | 14k

Alex has a complicated relationship with submission. Henry always makes sure he has a safe space to explore it.

kinks: soft dom henry, subspace, prostate massage, kink exploration

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ain't got a problem with provocative (I wanna be close to you) | 22k

Alex has somehow made it into the most elite sex club on this side of the city, and so far he’s gawked at one (1) naked man—a downright gorgeous man, in his defense—from a distance and gone non-verbal and introspective on a couch by himself. Truly riveting stuff.

kinks: free use, sub top alex, d/s elements, sex club

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find me when the party's over, ride home with your head on my shoulder | 24k

Five times Henry kind-of sort-of doms Alex on accident and one time he definitely does it on purpose.

kinks: friends to lovers, dom henry/sub alex, bondage, toys/vibrators, kink exploration, subspace

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somehow I'd get by | 30k

Henry is an accountant for a local sex club. Accidentally. He takes a keen interest in Alex's presentations and often daydreams about what it'd be like to be with the dom, even though surely it's nothing more than a fantasy. Right?

kinks: dom alex/sub henry, sex club, kink exploration, bondage, leather, barebacking, submission introspection

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playing to win (you're in my head again) | 37k

Henry and Alex are practically perfect for each other. Once they get past the years long animosity and hate-pining, of course.

kinks: dom henry/sub alex, enemies to friends to lovers, kink negotiation and exploration, spanking, subspace, aftercare, sensation play

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everybody needs someone (the sex curse series) | 3/3 | 37k

Henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, Alex Claremont-Diaz, can touch him.

kinks: sex pollen/fuck or die-esque, dom/sub elements, magic and magical realism, overstim, some mild humiliation/degradation

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I want you to have me like I've never been had, you get all my wild parts | 37k

Henry's always struggled to get past the inevitable road bump of his classification when it comes to finding a partner. In an ideal world, that sort of thing wouldn't matter. He'd be able to walk into a bar and find someone to take home, wouldn't have to bother with anything aside from just good, casual sex between two people— status aside. He's not really expecting to find that sort of thing at all, but he's certainly not expecting Alex Claremont-Diaz to be the one that makes all of his wildest dreams come true.

kinks: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non-traditional a/b/o, dom/sub dynamics, kink exploration and negotiation, rimming, barebacking, knotting, bondage/restraints

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pull me out of the fire, from my lowest take me higher | 44k

Henry finds unexpected solace in the thrill of an underground haven, where status—and who he shares a bed with—doesn't really seem to matter. But the deeper he goes, the harder it is to pull away, and Henry's shocked to discover so much of himself where he'd least expected to find it. He's not the one inside the ring, but he's only just finding out what it truly means to fight

kinks: boxer alex, piercings/tattoos, spanking, spit kink, light feminization, lingerie, phone sex, multiple orgasms, impact play, rimming

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hate to be lame (but I might love you) | 45k

Newly out as bi, Alex decides the best way to commemorate the occasion is to sleep with the biggest guy on campus. Henry thinks he might be insane, and isn't quite sure what that says about him for being the one to catch feelings when this whole thing was just supposed to be practice in the first place. It all works out. Eventually.

kinks: first times/experienced henry, sex toys, phone sex, deepthroating, masturbation, belly bulging, barebacking

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(these fics might not necessarily be rated E, but they all have some sort of scary and/or supernatural aspect to them!)

won't you live for me (or could I live for you?) | T+ | 5k

Henry stumbles upon Nora's lycan-only medical clinic when he's at the end of his rope, reeling from a rejection and ironically closer to death than he's been in all of his years already being undead. Alex knows what it feels like to be alone. He's almost mastered it, even, after his own brutal rejection years ago. So he absolutely should not, under any circumstances, risk his own life attempting to save a stranger with a plan that may or may not even work. He decides to try it out anyway.

tags: vampire henry/lycan alex

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how to get blood stains out of your linen (and other ways to fall in love) | M | 5k

Henry is a vampire who admittedly makes a bit of a mess with his partners. The 80 year old woman that works the overnight shift at his favorite dry cleaning place doesn't seem to care. The guy that starts filling in the shift when she takes some time off definitely does.

tags: vampire henry/human alex

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livin' in the violet sounds | E | 12k

When Alex gets himself stabbed with a blade laced with a venom that only a vampire can extract, Henry's forced to help the hunter and clandestine object of his desires narrowly avoid death, even when Alex tends to threaten his life on the regular. Henry jumps first and asks questions later, but that's nothing new when it comes to Alex.

tags: vampire henry/vampire hunter alex

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l'échappatoire | M | 22k

Henry fixes anomalies in other people's timelines. It's quite predictable and impersonal work for the most part. (Save for when it seems intent on unraveling his own, of course.)

tags: time loops, time traveler henry

+

honorable mention:

who ya gonna call? | M | 7k

Henry is a ghostwriter. Alex is a little confused on what exactly that means.

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if you like these, you can check out the rest of my fics here!

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[spicyclover]

An you do one for lando Norris where you tell him it’s ok to fuck with out a condom for the first time and letting him cum in you

On your lips, half volt.

Context: In the paddock after being frustrated for quite some time.

Summary: From your skin to my skin, I keep the scent I still know, from your body, by heart, the drawing On the bare wire of that night, I stand Ready for all my love, it’s so good!

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: smut +18

You didn’t wait very long for him. He returned to hospitality soon after finishing the three interviews he was supposed to do, his eyes set on you. He approached you and flopped onto the couch of his driver's room, setting his head on your lap.

You ran your hand through his messy curly hair, which was getting pretty long. He shut his eyes and relaxed, letting you play with his hair. He always loves having your hands on his head. He often gets headaches, and your fingers' warmth always makes him feel better.

On time, he even calls you a witch after you miraculously cured him of his headache by massaging him gently for several minutes. Obviously, you laugh, knowing very well that you didn't do anything but help him relax, which was what he actually needed.

Distracted, you started braiding a small chunk of it, and he grumbled a little when he understood what you were doing. You laughed at him and set your hand on his jaw, tracing over it with your fingertips. You lock eyes with each other. Sometimes you still fail to realize that this human loves you truly, deeply and intensely.

You still remember the first time you did it. You’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, and you both had very strong feelings about each other.

You start caressing him while reaching down for his sex. You feel his growing excitement and his limb getting hard through his suit, which, let’s be honest, doesn’t leave much room for imagination.

For the past few weeks, you haven’t had much time to spend with each other. And it must be said that you are in need; lack of him, of his kisses, of his skin against yours, of his penis in your entrance, of his faint growls of excitement. You can’t take it anymore. You need him now.

You touch his limb, and you feel his breath intensifying to the rhythm of your touch. His lips find their place in your neck, which he does not hesitate to mark as his own. You let out small sounds of pleasure between your lips that are glued to his ear.

You stoke him, losing no time. You know you don't have much time to get what you need, what you want.

"Babe," he whispers, trying to slow you down.

"Don't!" You take his suit and undo it. Making sure that he is left only with his fireproof shirt and his boxer. "I need you, Lan. I need you inside me!"

"Oh"

"Oh? What oh?" You ask stopping a minute to look at him.

"I don't have anything with me."

"What?"

"I don't have any condoms. Everything is at the hotel." He explains, quite embarrassed.

"Okay, and?" You kiss again, not waiting for the answer. Rubbing your bare skin against his.

"Well..." He sighs, putting his mouth away from you.

"Lando, you have two choices; you either fuck me right here and now hard and bare, or I go back to London, and you won't touch me for the next six months to know what it's like to be in need."

You give him the ultimatum, and you don't have to wait too long before Lando pushes himself in you. You heard the sigh of pleasure when his bare member encountered your intimate cunt for the first time. It's strange for you too. To feel him so close to you. Like they're nothing else after this. You can't be more naked than this.

It feels amazing. You're riding him, but it's Lando who gives the rhythm. With your hands on his chest, you try to keep yourself on top. His hands are on your hips, bruising them.

"I'm not going to last long," he says, out of breath.

You pull out of him and get up. You look at him, and he knows what to do. You enjoy quickies some times, and now it's the time. Fuck from being is the thing that turns you on and makes you come the most.

Lando pushes your legs apart and takes hold of your hips. Pushing himself again inside you. You feel him different, more animal, and you love it. You can't help yourself to whimpers his name, making his ego up. You are against the wall, holding on the best you can.

Now, you don't care if people can hear or not. You're having the time of your life after waiting for two weeks. You feel his hand touching your clit, doing circles, making your brain fuzzier. One hand on the wall, the other on one of Lando's arms. Lando is the full support of this session. You can't barely stay standing; how he makes you feel so good.

You bite your lips, trying to quiet yourself down. Lando accelerated candor by feeling his orgasm come. His hand stimulates your clitoris to the maximum and his penis sucks you from end to end by touching each of his thrusts on your G-spot. He feels that your vagina retracts and sucks it in.

"Lan... Land... Lando." Trying to phrase your sentence. "I want you to cum... to cum inside... inside me."

"What? He asks, out of breath."

"I want you to cum inside me!"

You feel your words have a radical change in his attitude, and he doesn’t waste time. His outbursts are a little more irrational, and you’re both on end. Your orgasm is there. Overwhelming you and him at the same time. You can’t help but shout his name and how good he does you.

He covers your mouth with his hand. He bends you more, and you hold on as best you can. He pushes you one last time. His seed is released in you, and you moan between his fingers. He finally breeds you, really breed you. Still in you, he pushes you back to the couch, and he drops himself in. His hand always keeps you close to him.

"Wow... That's the sexiest thing we have ever done." He exclaims as he giggles.

"I think that from now on, you will always cum in me. You were exceptional, and it’s been so fucking long since I wanted you like this."

"Tonight, am fucking you out! You won't be able to walk tomorrow, baby," he mumbles, trying to catch he's breath.

"Fuck! Cum in me every time if it means you take me so well."

[secrettantric]

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[chris-bodywork-euston]

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[chrismasseur1]

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[wordywarriorwrites]

Mystery

Title: Mystery A03 | Master List | Rating: E Summary: A spoiled Duchess, a famous Detective, and a bathtub built for two. Written For: Milestone '23 Prompt: Sleepy/lazy, Sherlock, Bath or Shower Sex Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. PWP.

As a Duchess in your own right, as well as the sole heiress to a vast fortune, you had access to the very best. Clothes, jewelry, theatres, art, food, even stationary. You catered to your own whims and spoiled yourself whenever you saw fit - which, to be honest, was quite often.  

One of your most recent indulgences was your newly remodeled bathroom, with a waffle ceiling, tile-covered walls, a custom toilet, and a separate shower. There was also a double sink, with a mirrored, multi-drawered vanity that housed a variety of towels, robes, scents, oils, sponges, and brushes, but the crown jewel was the custom-made bathtub.  

Instead of having it tucked away into the wall, the porcelain-lined, pool-like behemoth was the centerpiece. It offered a perfect view of the estate gardens, was deep enough to submerge yourself in, and the swaths of fabric bolted to the ceiling could be pulled around it for additional privacy.

You chose to leave the curtain open and observe a late afternoon storm build along the horizon. The clouds rolled in and darkened the skies, which prompted the gardeners to head for cover and the servants to light the lamps. Once your hair had been washed, you refreshed the water, dismissed your lady’s maid, and ensconced yourself in the bath’s rose-scented depths.

Finally, you were alone, and able to have a private moment with your thoughts. And there were many things on your mind - after all, you were solely in charge of your household and had a lot to attend to before the London season got underway. You intended to host a ball next month, and there were several details to iron out, but the combination of steam and heavy rainfall quieted your racing mind and soothed you.

Sleep beckoned, but just as you began to nod off, a soft knock roused you. Perturbed by the disturbance, you opened your mouth to send whoever it was away, but then, the door creaked open without your permission, and you knew of only one person - one man - who had the audacity to do such a thing.

“Detective,” you murmured.

“Duchess,” he greeted as he bolted the door. 

You were fortunate. Privileged. Your title alone commanded respect, but you didn’t always behave as a lady of well-breeding should. Unmarried, with no children, and no guardian to watch over you? An independent woman of wealth and breeding who wasn’t a widow? It was unheard of, even obscene in some circles, but you were determined to retain your freedom for as long as you possibly could.  

There were many suitors vying for your hand, but none who genuinely cared for you beyond your position and wealth. It was why you’d decided to forego the marriage market and take a lover instead. But only someone who understood the necessity for absolute discretion could be considered a candidate, and Sherlock Holmes certainly fit the bill.

But being alone with a man who was not your husband or familial relation was forbidden. Enjoying a man’s company was unseemly. Being naked in a tub, while watching a man undress and ready himself to join you, was also a wicked offense - one that would surely result in damnation should anyone learn of it.  

Sherlock lowered himself in across from you and sighed, “Forgive me for my tardiness.”

You quirked a brow and dropped your foot between his pectorals, “Why should I?”

He grinned. Pressed a kiss to your ankle. Massaged from heel to arch while he shared his good news. Another case successfully closed, this time by his extensive knowledge of perfume and pipe ash. You laughed and reheated the water as he washed and regaled you with the tale. After a while, Sherlock fell silent, which prompted you to sit up and press a hand to his chest.

“Hungry?” you wondered. 

“Famished,” he replied.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

You straddled his lap and cupped his face in your hands, “Let me make love you?”

Sherlock sat up and brushed his lips across your chin and cheeks, “Please.”

For all the dangerous, social landmines the two of you navigated, what you and Sherlock had was surprisingly uncomplicated. Your impeccable reputation and his unshakable honor afforded you both a lot of privacy and leeway. You also shared mutual acquaintances and occasionally saw each other at the same soirees, but neither of you made any overtures or public displays other than simple politeness. No flirting, no dancing, and absolutely no calls or gifts or letters. You were also friendly with his sister, Enola, and her close connection with Viscount Tewkesbury squashed any potential rumors and prevented tongues from wagging.

Besides, you were aware that Sherlock was married to his work. And he knew you wanted to remain independent for as long as possible. Yet, you also recognized the loneliness in each other.

And the desire for connection, too.

“You smell wonderful,” he observed gruffly between kisses. “Taste good, too. Like strawberries and hazelnuts.”

You grinned and dipped your tongue into his mouth, “You taste like beer. And cheddar cheese?”

“Such powers of observation, Duchess. You’ll put me out of a job.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock’s chuckles morphed to contented groans the moment you wrapped your hand around him. You stroked him with the firm grip he preferred, with a twist of the wrist at the tip, and felt his hips lift slightly with every tug. Your front row seat to the beginnings of his undoing excited you, and when you took him inside, he moaned and gripped your waist tight.

This wasn’t the first time - far from it, in fact - but it still managed to stun you both. You took a moment before you allowed your head to fall back and your body to move. You used his shoulders for leverage as you built a steady rhythm. You weren’t sure how long you had. Didn’t know if he was staying the night or taking off right away. How long it would be until you saw him again? If your lady’s maid came searching…

“Slowly, Duchess. We have time.”

You met his eyes and frowned slightly, “Of course. I’m just--”

“I know,” he interjected quietly, reassuringly. “Me, too.”

Another kiss was all it took to distract you both. The water sloshed with every movement and threatened to spill onto the floor. You watched his pupils expand and his tongue dart out to lick wayward droplets from his lips. His nipples were pebbled, and the spread of his thighs beneath yours ensured you remained wide open and able to take him to the hilt. As you languidly sought your peak, he helped you along - slipped his hand beneath the water, right between your legs, and used his skilled fingers to stroke and pat at your clit.

Sherlock was massive and warm and beautiful beneath you. Plump mouth and flushed cheeks and curls even more riotous from the movement and heat. His shoulders rolled and his arms flexed as he maneuvered your legs around his waist and twined your arms over his shoulders. Once you were settled, he splayed one hand on the small of your back, planted the other on the bottom of the tub, and drove up and into you with considerable force. Still drawn-out, of course, but much sharper than you were capable of, and precisely what you needed.

You came undone embarrassingly fast. So fast, in fact, that you were dumbfounded into utter stillness. Sherlock was delighted, perhaps even charmed, because he laughed into your slack mouth and made a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. The spark in his eye was akin to the one you’d often seen when he’d unraveled a particularly difficult riddle, but it wasn’t smugness or male pride. He was satisfied simply because he’d satisfied you, and that was one of his most endearing and appealing qualities.

Sherlock hummed and nipped at your breast, “Another?”

You moaned against the crown of his head. Gripped the sides of the tub with both hands. Allowed him to give you more of what you both wanted, however he wanted, because it felt good.

Sherlock Holmes made you feel good, and even though you knew the two of you were well on your way to getting a bit too carried away, you had no desire to stop. You muffled the sounds of your pleasure in the crook of his neck, and each of his ragged exhales were interspersed with throaty growls and pointed thrusts that made you delirious.

Some time later - after you’d fed him, made love again, and put him to bed for the night in the guest room across from yours - you put on a nightgown, and slipped beneath your own sheets.

Sherlock would be gone before daybreak. You’d be up early, too, because you also had things to do. You’d enjoyed a rare night with him. You’d indulged in each other and made tentative plans to see each other once more before your time was taken up with early morning callers, afternoon teas, and balls that ran late into the night. 

You were happy - even if weren’t sure how long your affair with Sherlock would last.

But then again, you supposed it was just another mystery yet to be solved. 

[porcelainmortal]

Welcome to Ficlet Friday! I'd like 🧖🏻‍♀️ and I don't mind the characters, your choice 😊

(also no pressure to get them done by Friday, I tend to spread them out over the week & aim to be done by the following Friday 😘)

Thank you for the ask, Taylor!

Since you were my second 🧖🏻‍♀️ Spa Day prompt, I took it upon myself to write a two-part ficlet. The first part can be read here and the second is below the cut! It's slightly horny, so be forewarned.

(I also am incredibly proud that both of these ficlets clock in at exactly 720 words. So.)

Spa Day Part 2

Alex wasn’t sure what to expect from the seaweed body wrap, but it turns out to be pretty cool. Despite feeling like a burrito for a while and the slightly awkward part of showering naked while his esthetician waited outside the door, he likes it. His skin feels soft and smooth and refreshed. The facial was even better; his face is rosy from all the massage, but it feels amazing and it looks bright and clear. He wants to do this every week.

When he finally lays eyes on Henry again, Alex can barely contain the huge smile that splits across his face. They’re in the communal room, off of which lay the steam room and the sauna.

“Hey baby, how was it?” Alex leans in to kiss him and notices that Henry smells really fucking good. He pulls Alex into his arms and he goes easily, pushing his hands through Henry’s hair, which is still damp from his own post-seaweed-wrap shower.

“It was really nice,” Henry sighs, dropping his nose to Alex’s pulse point. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I was just about to say the same thing to you,” Alex laughs, running his nose along Henry’s neck before nipping at his earlobe. 

“Don’t get fresh, love,” Henry chastizes. He counteracts his words by running his hands down to paw at Alex’s ass, pulling them flush. Alex cranes his neck just enough to look at him.

“Are you horny?”

“Perhaps,” Henry grins wickedly.

“We’re in a communal area,” Alex says, scandalized.

“The spa is closed just for us,” Henry replies, leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Save it for after the massage, baby.”

“Mm, don’t want to,” Henry moans, dipping his head to mouth along Alex’s throat. 

“I know, but by then we’ll be really relaxed and all oiled up.”

“Well that’s tempting,” Henry grins, raising his head to meet Alex’s eyes. 

“Come on.” Alex takes Henry’s hand and pulls him into the sauna.

Alex is thankful that their massage therapists are women; it’s probably good that Henry doesn’t have a young, buff man rubbing him. Alex’s therapist is older and unattractive, so at least there aren’t more factors working against his attempts to stay modest. The rubbing in all of Alex’s sensitive areas is one thing, but listening to Henry moan his way through his massage has Alex half-hard where he’s face down in the massage table. He’s hoping and praying that it goes away by the time his therapist asks him to flip over. 

At first, Alex tries to engage Henry in conversation. However, he quickly realizes that listening to his breathy voice occasionally cutting off with a groan when a muscle is released is doing nothing for Alex’s situation. He tries to focus on his own massage and some deep breathing exercises, and by the time they finally flip over, he’s actually pretty relaxed. Alex hears soft snoring and looks over to see Henry asleep. He smiles to himself, knowing that Henry hasn’t slept well since before he went to London.

When the massage ends, Henry’s therapist wakes him gently and the two women slip out. Alex sits up slowly, stretching out his muscles. He feels fucking good.

“So?”

Henry looks over, blinking sleepily. He yawns. 

“I feel bloody fantastic.”

“I knew you would,” Alex grins. “Ready to head back to the room?”

“Please. I think I could go right back to sleep,” Henry says as he stands and pulls his robe back on. 

“Really? Because with the exception of the last 15 minutes, I had to listen to you moan all the way through that massage. I kept hoping we wouldn’t get kicked out for indecency.” Alex chuckles and steps over to wrap his arms around Henry’s waist.

“You’re one to talk,” Henry says, leaning down to kiss him. It’s chaste and sweet at first, but Alex deepens it, his breath hitching when Henry pulls back. “Alex,” he whispers.

“Yes, baby?”

“We need to get up to our room now.” The deep, husky quality of Henry’s voice has Alex nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, please.” He takes Henry’s hand and pulls him out the door. The time it takes to get back up to their room feels interminable but Alex knows it will be worth it. Henry thinks he’s relaxed now, but Alex’s isn’t done with him yet.

Ficlet Friday Summer/Holiday Prompts

[stephensmithuk]

Taking a Cure and Breaking Carlsbad

Because there is really nothing new under the sun at the end of the day, some people were just as obsessed about their health as they are now.

CW for discussion of historical atrocities and capital punishment.

Taking the Waters

It was believed in the 19th century and indeed for a few centuries before that "taking the waters" from wells in certain inland towns with natural springs was good for your health. A lot of places had gained this reputation, like Bath in England and Spa in Belgium. Yep, that's where the name comes from.

You could either drink the waters, bathe in them or both. This was segregated by sex, as you would generally be naked in the latter case.

The arrival of the railways made "taking a cure" a good deal easier. Bath was connected to London by the Great Western Railway and today you can get there by 125mph train in under 90 minutes from Paddington.

So, many of the rich and famous would take holidays in these places, where they would drink the water, go on a restricted diet, take long walks and undergo various treatments, prescribed by spa physicians.

Some of these were medically sound. Some come across as quackery of the first water, pun fully intended.

Treatments included - and you can still find many of these in modern day spa facilities - mud baths, massages, seaweed wraps, steam rooms etc. There was also something called a Vichy Shower, which involves lying on a slab while being sprayed with water from multiple nozzles in a shower bar.

Yes, Vichy in France is a spa town. The reason the collaborationist government went there in 1940 is because it had a lot of hotels to put everyone up.

Karlovy Vary

Anyway, Carlsbad was the former English spelling of Karlsbad, a town in Bohemia then under Austrian rule. You may know it better under its modern name of Karlovy Vary, today in Czechia (aka the Czech Republic, its long form name), about sixty-six miles west of Prague. It has an airport, but the flights are limited there - you will generally need to go to Prague, then get a coach or train.

Three American places and one in Canada still bear the name Carlsbad, the most notable being the coastal city in California, now home to a Legoland.

The name in both German and Czech means "Charles' baths".

While there were settlements in the area going back to the Bronze Age, legend has it that Charles IV, King of Bohemia, found a warm spring by accident while exploring the local area and the waters healed his injured leg. In any event, he gave the place royal privileges in 1370.

His successor, Wenceslaus IV, would give the town a right of asylum and the place also had a ban on carrying weapons.

In 1526, Louis II would drown as he fled defeat by the Ottoman Empire at the Battle of Mohács, ending his dynasty as he had no legitimate children. Austrian Ferdinand I was elected as his successor and to cut a long story short, Bohemia lost its independence, becoming part of the Austrian Empire.

The 16th and 17th centuries weren't great for the place; a massive flood, a big fire and Swedish troops looting the place three times in seven years during the Thirty Years' War.

In 1819, the town would hold a conference of representatives from the states of the German Confederation, passing decrees increasing press censorship and banning nationalist societies among other things in an attempt to slow moves towards unification.

In the event, that unification would happen in 1871, but Austria would be excluded from the new Germany and instead unified with Hungary in the Dual Monarchy, aka Austria-Hungary. Karlsbad would be in the Austrian part of this new Empire and was in fact majority-German speaking.

Anyway, back to Karlsbad. The town was rapidly developing in popularity as a resort during the course of the 19th century and would become even more popular in 1870, when a railway line was built from Prague to Eger (now Cheb) on the border with Germany.

The railway line allowed for through carriages to operate from across Europe. In 1888, it took a day and 8 1/2 hours to get there from London. By 1911, CIWL was offering a through sleeping carriage, along with parlor/dining car from Ostend to Carlsbad, the former reachable from Charing Cross via train and ferry. The journey was now doable in 26 hours and 21 minutes.

The appeal for spa fans was clear - 80 springs with water running up to 74 degrees Celsius. Mineral water and herbal bitters were bottled and exported all over Europe. The mountain scenery and fresh air allowed people to take walks as part of their "cure."

The best-known spa by the Raffles time was the Imperial Spa, of which more later.

There were also plenty of hotels or pensions. The September 1888 Bradshaw's Continental advertises eight of them, with no less than seven boasting of English-speaking staff or indeed managers. The most famous hotel, opened in 1701 and still going strong in 2024 is the Grandhotel Pupp, which featured extensively in the 2006 James Bond film Casino Royale where it played the Hotel Splendide. Indeed, Karlovy Vary has a big starring role in that film.

Churchgoers were well-provided for, with churches for multiple denominations. The Anglican one is now a waxworks museum of all things.

Many rich and famous faces would show up at Carlsbad and nearby Marienbad. Chopin and Beethoven visited there. Anthony Joseph Drexel, founder of what is now J. P. Morgan & Co visited there in 1893... then had a fatal heart attack.

As the Redux points out, all these rich people were prime targets for thieves.

An 1884 guide to the place can be found here:

Things were going pretty swimmingly for the spa town... and then the First World War happened, rather damaging the tourist industry.

The collapse of Austria-Hungary saw the town incorporated into the new country of Czechoslovakia following the Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye in 1919. Local protests in March 1919 ended in six deaths after things turned violent and Czechoslovak soldiers opened fire, but the local population of what was now Karlovy Vary soon accepted their new situation. A 1930 census made clear that the place remained overwhelmingly German in its composition.

The place didn't recover to its pre-war popularity; the Great Depression really didn't help in that department. The German-speaking areas of Czechoslovakia had a lot of industries, like toy-making, which were reliant on exports... and protectionism was now very much in vogue. There were also tensions between the German minority and the Czech majority.

Then a certain Austrian man with a toothbrush moustache came along. Karlovy Vary was in what was becoming known as the Sudetenland... and you can probably see where this is going.

In September 1938, the Munich Agreement, signed without the Czechoslovaks being involved (who had to accept it), saw the Sudetenland handed over to Germany. By March 1939, the Germans had invaded and annexed the rest of the Czech part of the country, Poland and Hungary had taken various bits of territory and a pro-Axis client state was set up in what was left of Slovakia. However, it does not seem there was any mass support for this by the Germans of Karlovy Vary.

The Nazis set up the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia in the Czech bits they'd got in March 1939.

While a full discussion of their horrific rule is beyond the scope of this post, Karl Hermann Frank, born in what was then Carlsbad, would be placed in charge of the Nazi police apparatus in the protectorate. He would eventually become Minister of State, the most powerful official in it and in these roles would play a primary role in the mass murder of the Jewish population in the Protectorate. He would also give the orders to destroy Lidice and Ležáky, murdering nearly all their inhabitants, in reprisal for the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich in 1942.

Karlovy Vary would play host to a Gestapo prison; I imagine the town also saw some use by soldiers on leave.

Karlovy Vary was out of the effective range of Allied bombers for much of the war but came under heavy bombing twice in the final months of the conflict; bombers heading for Dresden in February 1945 appear to have also bombed Karlovy Vary (and Prague) by mistake. The town was heavily damaged, but the spa part escaped destruction.

Karlovy Vary was part of an agreed stop line for George S. Patton's Twelfth Army Group in May 1945 as they raced east. They met some resistance as they approached (namely the dangerous 88mm guns that had to be taken out individually), but the town surrendered without a fight on 7 May 1945; German forces there just wanting to surrender to the Americans and not the Red Army, who would treat them much worse.

However, it had already been agreed that this would be an area under Soviet occupation and Patton's forces had to cross back over the restored border into Germany, handing the place over on 11 May.

The Czechoslovakian-government-in-exile had declared its German and Hungarian minorities collectively responsible for the occupation. The Allies at the Potsdam Conference agreed that Germans east of their new borders should be transferred in an orderly fashion to Germany i.e. expelled.

It would be anything but orderly. Many had already fled west to get away from the Soviets, either in organised evacuations or on their own initiative, the later continuing after the surrender. At least 100,000 civilians died in this flight from aerial attack or other causes, such as the atrocious winter of 1944-45.

Now, Czechoslovakia would kick out nearly all the rest. Germans and Hungarians had their land seized, their citizenships revoked and were sent west or north; around 1.3 million and 800,000 respectively.

Mobs and those in uniforms engaged in massacres with varying degrees of official connivance; with the harsh conditions of the expulsion as well, it is estimated by a joint German-Czech commission that 15,000 to 16,000 died, along with another 3,400 suicides.

Others ended up in internment camps, also with harsh conditions.

Those who could prove they were anti-fascists or who were essential for the economy, a number estimated up to 250,000, were allowed to stay. In other cases, Communist Party redistributed assets to Czechs in the border areas, getting a lot of support in post-war elections as a result.

The expulsion/deportation remains something of an elephant in the room in the now three countries - it was historically a much bigger issue. West Germany paid compensation to those thrown out from its own funds and the international community concluded that Czechoslovakia taking their assets meant that no reparations needed paying. A Czechoslovak law granting immunity for crimes committed in 1945 in the name of liberation remains in force. A joint agreement in 1997 saw Germany accept responsibility for Nazi crimes and Czechia express regret for the deaths in the expulsions; various attempts at reconciliation have happened. The surviving Sudeten Germans do not want their land back in general, just official recognition.

The events have come up from time to time in the politics of the area, but I shall leave that discussion for others to have.

In the aftermath, the Czechoslovaks also conducted war crimes trials of those who had engaged in such horror upon their country. Karl Hermann Frank, captured by the Americans the day after the war ended, was extradited back to Czechoslovakia, and sentenced to death by the People's Court in Prague. On 22 May 1946, he was executed in front of 5,000 people in the courtyard of Pankrác prison; it was a ticketed event with "scalpers" to boot in what would be the final public execution in Prague. It was also photographed and filmed for the media; the footage can be found easily online, so you may not want to look this up. Especially as the method of hanging was the Austro-Hungarian pole method, not a pleasant way to go.

The Communists, starting to lose popularity, sized power in a coup in 1948 and created a Soviet-aligned state.

The Grandhotel Pupp had already been nationalised, the Pupp family having been expelled and was renamed the Grandhotel Moskva in 1951.

The Karlovy Vary Film Festival began in 1946 and quickly became prominent after it introduced an international film competition two years later, by 1956, it was a top-tier festival, up there with the likes of Venice and Cannes. Moscow got jealous and forced the festival to go from annually to bi-annually; it alternated with the festival in the Soviet capital until 1993.

The need for "hard currency" such as the West German mark to be used to pay for imports into the CSSR meant Karlovy Vary continued to market itself to foreign tourists, especially West Germans. The erection of the Iron Curtain made travel to and from Czechoslovakia a lot harder, as you now needed a visa to go there from the West; there was also a mandatory foreign exchange requirement, although paying for the hotel could cover that. East Germans, who could travel to Czechoslovakia without the need for a visa, seem to have found Karlovy Vary too expensive and went to other spa towns. In any event, the Soviet invasion of 1968 that ended the Prague Spring damaged visitor numbers further, not to mention destroying the credibility of much of the Eurocommunist movement, who mostly parted company with Moscow in short order.

As for the Imperial Spa, built in 1895 and known as Spa I since 1922, it had been renovated in the late 1940s so it could operate all-year round and declared a cultural monument. However, increasing maintenance costs meant it stopped operating as a spa in the late 1980s, becoming a casino, falling further into disrepair.

Things, however, were about to improve. The Velvet Revolution of 1989 saw the largelyFilm/TheMummy1999 peaceful end of the Communist government (a lot of people were beaten up by security forces, but no-one died, although a hoax story of a death played a key part) and Czechoslovakia's return to democracy. It became two democracies in short order; it became clear that the Czechs and Slovaks had different ideas of the direction of travel for their country, so the Velvet Divorce followed in 1993, creating Czechia and Slovakia. Both countries would maintain good relationships with each other and join the EU together in the 2004; Czechia retains the koruna, having not yet joined the eurozone.

In 1990, Karlovy Vary got city status as the tourists came back. The Grandhotel Pupp got its name back - a deal being reached with the family in 1992 for use of the trademark. The film festival returned to being an annual event, only being skipped in 2020 for obvious reasons, although a shorter festival happened in November. In 2024, the Crystal Globe was won by A Sudden Glimpse to Deeper Things, a British documentary on an abstract artist called Wilhelmina Barns-Graham.

The Imperial Spa was declared a national monument in 2010 and a renovation began in 2019, allowing the place to fully reopen in 2023.

I think that's a good place to end it. I am now thinking of going there myself...