Tumgik
#woke Mandu in the middle of the goddamn night like 3 in the morning
softquietsteadylove · 1 month
Note
Spicy Addams Family AU? 🔥
The curtains fluttered in the breeze, the air simply too hot to close all the windows. They swayed further into the library and then back towards the sun streaming in, as if gossiping with the rays and the shelves about what they witnessed.
His mouth was hot against hers, tongues dallying in a way she had never imagined tongues could do. She had never seen him quite so demanding, always soft spoken and amiable. He was a true gentleman, and the gentleman had his hand sliding up her leg, heavy skirts of her dress be damned.
Thena turned the page delicately, as if the sound of it would immediately alert her mother to the book of hers Thena had found sitting unguarded. She wasn't allowed to read any of Mother's romances. Something about them not being for her eyes. But she was quite ready to be free of her parents, she thought. And it was just a book.
Gil would tell her to read it.
Her back hit the shelves behind her as they continued in their lasciviousness. He uttered a sound that rumbled from his chest. His hands grew feverish, clawing up her dress until he could grasp her thigh and hoist her higher. His lips, ever demanding, pressed to her neck, following the path of her throat to the neckline of her dress.
Thena sunk further down against her many pillows. Her legs twisted under her plush white duvet. The prose of the book were certainly romantic. Perhaps more...detailed than she would have expected.
He pushed her dress up further and further. The skirts of it pooled up around him until she no longer had an unobstructed view of him. She had half a mind to ask what he was doing, but the half a mind she possessed still became hazy. His mouth pressed to the inside of her thigh, dragging her stockings down and out of his way. She did not know mouths were meant for these sorts of things.
What sorts of things?
His tongue found her first. That clever, gentle and sometimes overly honest tongue he possessed. It touched her in her barest form, sliding around the bends and folds of her. He pressed it firmly to the nerves collected at the peak of her womanhood. She had never felt such sensations before.
Thena shifted in her bed again. She wasn't entirely sure what nerves they were talking about, nor why they were calling it 'her womanhood'. She swallowed but it sounded dry to her ears, her room otherwise deathly silent. Not even Theseus was awake.
Her back arched. She ran her fingers through the thick locks of dark hair upon his head. He kissed her between her legs the same way he had her mouth. Sounds she had never before uttered escaped her. Her cheeks were flushed hot. The rest of her flushed hotter.
Thena indeed found herself pressing her fingertips to her cheeks. Her legs squirmed again. She made a face as she pressed her thighs together, a curious sensation building between them. She could picture the happenings of the book well. The man with his broad shoulders, his dark hair.
It built and built until she was on the precipice of undoing. She tilted her head up, her breasts heaving against her corset. The thick collection of her brown hair-
No, no that wasn't right. Thena squeezed her eyes shut, her legs rubbing like a cricket's. That wasn't what was in her head. She dug her shoulders into her pillow. She lost where she was on the page, hunting to continue.
His manhood-
Again with the obscurities. She at least knew the word for it.
His manhood throbbed in the open air. She had little time to examine it in its glory before he was bringing her hips closer, to the very edge of the ladder until they could be joined.
They had moved to the ladder in the bit she missed. Oh well.
She allowed him to enter her, filling her in ways she had never imagined. Her whole body folded around him, pulsing with the beating of her heart. He was thick, and he began moving immediately.
Thena pressed her lips together. Her hips swivelled and she slipped a hand under the covers. She too had to inch up the hem of her nightdress until she could find her own skin. There was a dampness between her thighs that was most certainly not her monthly.
He moved gently at first, rocking like waves against the shore. This was the act of love making. The physical profession of love, she thought. Two bodies entangled in the most intimate sense of the word. She slid her arm across his wide shoulders and tugged at the hair at the back of his head. Lovemaking was all well and good, but she wanted more.
She had heard fucking was also the physical act of love.
Thena breathed heavier as she read. Lovemaking in the poetic language became detailed, bordering on graphic. The man grew more energetic, words like 'pounding' and 'rutting' jumping out at her from the page. Her fingers, now coated in the wetness between her legs, ventured further.
Her jaw dropped faintly as she pushed where she had not pushed before. Perhaps this was the collection of nerves of which they spoke. She touched it lightly at first, before realising certain angles were too much. She changed approach, rubbing it downward from above.
She let out a faint moan, still far too loud for her echously large room lit only by her lamp. She pressed her head into her pillow, no longer concerned with what was happening on the page.
They were in the middle of fucking, as it were. The man was 'pounding' into her, his 'thickness' moving in and out of her at such speeds. Hips were rolling, bodies were writhing, it was all quite a lot.
"Gil."
She didn't mean to say it. It just...slipped out. Her mind was moving faster than before, but she also wasn't thinking clearly. Her fingers moved faster, trying to bring about something. Her head rolled to the side.
She could imagine Gil as the book's beloved hero. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair. He was kind, and had a sweet nature to him, but not without his own sense of mischief.
Gil had soft looking lips. He had a wide back and thick arms. He was warm, and he always smelled nice whenever they were in close proximity. His hand would hold hers gently as they went up or down the stairs.
She could imagine Gil's lips on her neck, like in the book. She could practically feel his hands on her skin, his sturdy but gentle grip holding her as he grasped her thighs.
"Gil," she whimpered, tracing around those nerves again. There was more wetness, now. Her hands did grow feverish (the book was right).
He would kiss her like that. She would know what it felt like for his incoming moustache to scratch her skin. Perhaps he would kiss her between her legs, like in this library scene. Would they make love? Or would they fuck?
"Yes," she gasped, eyes sealed shut and hand moving faster. He would whisper sweetly to her, call her pretty like he did that day it was raining.
Something was coming. She tried to bring it forth. She picked up speed, changed angle, went back when she felt it slipping further away. Her breathing became feverish and she felt the flush in her skin spread all over her body.
Thena rolled onto her side, squeezing her thighs around her hand as her insides pulsed rapidly. She dug her nails into her pillow and held her lips together as she made sounds she'd never heard herself make. It felt like a fever, like her muscles had been tense and finally released. It felt like relief.
She rolled onto her back again, practically panting for breath, for which she felt a little foolish. It was just her in here, with her hand and a book. She could understand why mother had forbade her from reading them. Such heretical things they printed!
She picked up the fallen book, eagerly searching for where she had left off. Not that she would be resuming her activity with it, but it was still a story in need of completion.
She nearly yelped as a tapping on her window startled her. The book fell from her grasp as she looked at her balcony. It was Gil's messenger, a corvid named Mandu. She cleared her throat, pulling up the strap of her nightdress and wrapping her shawl around her to greet the bird properly. "Come in."
The creature obliged, flapping from the rail of the balcony to her writing desk, tilting his head.
Thena flushed with guilt. Gil was asking if she'd read the book he had sent her home with from their last visit. And if she hadn't been distracted by her mother's...diversion, she would have finished it by now.
The bird eyed her, surely wanting to return home.
"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile before hurriedly scribbling a reply.
She was extra sorry for lying. She wouldn't normally!--not to Gil, at least. But this was a unique circumstance. So just this once, she would tell a small fib. And she would read the book right away! It wouldn't be a fib for long.
She examined the hastily scribbled message.
It's a beautiful story. I can see why you treasure it so. I'll tell you all the parts I loved most when you visit next week.
They never bothered addressing their little messages anymore. It was too formal for a correspondence they engaged in almost daily. She spritzed the paper lightly with the perfume she had been given for her birthday before folding the letter and securing it to Mandu's back.
"Thank you," she smiled at the dark feathered messenger. "Safe travels."
The bird nodded to her, too smart to crow loudly in the dead of night. He took off again, flying into the bright moonlight outside. Thena closed her glass doors with a sigh, feeling as if she'd been caught in the midst of something scandalous.
She looked over at Theseus, still asleep under his heat lamp, much to her relief. No, it was her business alone what she was doing, or reading. That book could wait though. If need be, she would return it to mother the very next morning to avoid suspicion. She could say she left it in the sunroom and feared the cover would fade in the light.
She had to finish Gil's book first. If she finished it, her message would not be a lie anymore. And then she could feel at least a little less guilty about the events of this night.
How she would look him in the eye when she did see him next was another matter entirely.
8 notes · View notes