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Marie bit her lip, trying to muffle herself as Stein adjusted her higher on the tree. The bark was rough and it scratched at her skin, even through her top and the labcoat Stein had draped on her shoulders. He was so tall that, every time she slid down, he had to hitch her higher, bringing her legs farther up on his torso, and she tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair, holding on for some sort of leverage.
Death, they were really not supposed to be doing this.
She didn’t think that she’d ever be the kind of person to get herself in such a situation. Marie had never understood the appeal of being intimate outside: it was messy and uncomfortable and she always had want for a mattress.
She supposed being on the run for all those months when Stein was framed might have swayed her. Because, yes, it was absolutely uncomfortable, and she and Stein had gotten bark burn, and sand burn, and sunburn, and grass stains, and skinned knees and elbows, but it was also making her arch away from the tree so hard, she was sure she was going to pull a muscle.
“Stein,” she hissed out, grinding against him, unable to hold back a low groan when he sucked at the skin of her throat, both his hands massaging her thighs. Neither of them were willing to take everything off, not when they could be caught at any moment, and he’d simply scrunched her long skirt up to a ring around her waist, leaving her exposed.
She felt his smirk against her as he cupped her ass with one hand, using the other to lightly stroke her through her panties, and she gasped, moaning softly as he licked up the side of her neck, nuzzling the space behind her ear. After a moment, his scratchy voice, low and ragged, whispered “Careful, Marie,” and she bit her lip harder, letting her head fall back as she swiveled her hips in time to his stroking.
He rubbed her through the cloth of her underwear and she grasped at his shoulders, her nails biting through the fabric of his shirt as she let loose a muffled squeak. His chuckle was amused as he inhaled in the smell of her shampoo, delighting in seeing her unfurl.
“Shh, Marie. Someone could hear you,” he told her, sounding all too smug. She closed her eye, face burning at the very thought, and he finally took the time to shove the cloth of her hipsters to the side so he could slide a finger into her. She bucked, her spine flexing, her entire body on fire.
He was right. If she wasn’t quiet, they’d be caught and she would never live it down. She’d already been walked in on by Spirit while she and Stein were just kissing and he still made lewd comments she had to punch out of him.
The training forest, of all places. She was with Franken Stein in the training forest and, Death help her, there wasn’t much combat preparation going on at the moment.
“Stein,” she muttered out, breathing hard as he crooked his finger, biting beneath her jaw. The breathy moan she made was drawn out as he slowly slid in and out of her, sucking hard at her skin. It was a sure sign that he was just as ready as she was, since he was throwing caution to the wind, marking her in such a visible place. But all it did was make her heart pound harder. She liked the thought of it, being claimed by him, and she certainly liked looking at it in the mirror after the fact.
She tugged on his hair, pulling him away from her throat and to her mouth so he could swallow her pleased cries. Her hips were twisting around, her thighs twitching.
Death, she didn’t even know what she would do if someone found them, which they very well could. One of the teachers, a student. Oh, Death, a student with Soul Perception, perhaps, wondering what training exercise the two of them were doing that had them panting, her soul expanding in her chest. The resonance between them seemed to hum in the very air, and he knew what to do to her body to make her buck, her eye rolling into the back of her head.
This time, she bit at his lip, surely leaving it swollen, dragging her nails down his clothed back as though looking for some kind of leverage. But there was none. She was spiraling out of her skin, frantically rutting onto his hand, and when he slid a second finger into her, curling them, she pulled away from the kiss, grinding down.
She reared forward, burying her flushed face against his shoulder as he slowly slid in and out of her, and she wriggled, trying to entice a faster speed out of him. The muffled curses and harsh pants that he was coaxing out of her were definitely bringing out the sadist in him, and he slowed more and more, probably wanting her to beg.
Damnit, they didn’t have the time for him to tease her like that. She whimpered, bouncing against him to set her own pace, and he laughed in her ear, though it was low and strained, before he slid out of her and she whined.
“S-Stein, what the hell?” she asked, certainly not in the mood for the orgasm denial business he so loved to pull.
“I thought I sensed someon-”
“I don’t care,” she said, digging her nails into his shoulders and pressing her hips against his so she could grind against his clothed erection. “Finish what you started, damnit.”
She couldn’t see his grin, but she could practically feel it when he adjusted his hold on her, bringing her higher on his body and undoing his pants with one hand.
He was such a bastard, sometimes, and he got so smug when he knew how turned on she was, but Marie was beyond caring. Were she preoccupied with anything else, she would certainly call him out on it, but she was too busy wondering what was taking him so long to pull down a damn zipper.
“Stein,” she hissed, bringing her hands to the hem of his shirt and sliding her fingers under the fabric so she could properly scratch at his back. “Hurry up.”
He moaned when she left crescent marks in his skin, her nails having gotten particularly long, recently. Marie bounced against him, arching forward so she could kiss his jaw, licking her way to the underside so she could lay a bite, there, using the matching mark on her own skin as inspiration. His hold on her almost faltered as she bit down roughly, dragging her nails higher on his back, and he had to grab her ass with both hands just to support her.
This time, she was the one who smirked, sucking gently before she licked up to his ear.
“Careful,” she started, grinding down on him and maneuvering around so he would have an easier time entering her, smiling wider when he bit back a groan. “Someone could hear you,” she finished, throwing his own words back at him before she took his earlobe between her teeth, and she felt his deep hum in his throat as she pressed her cheek against him. The instant she trailed her lips back down his neck, Stein seemed to finally get his all too complicated pants undone because, in one smooth motion, he pressed her against the tree and bit back a chortle at the squeak he managed to inspire out of her. It was high and surprised, the farthest thing from seductive and the closest thing to cute, and it immediately ruined the darker, grittier tone she’d previously attempted.
She could practically feel his grin through their resonance, and she huffed, breathing hot air on his neck.
“Adorable,” he told her, chuckling lowly. “Playing temptress doesn’t particularly suit you,” he informed, and she shifted in his hold, adjusting her hips forward as she settled her weight more heavily on her shoulders, pulling away from where she was leaving hickeys over his neck to look him in the eye, one of her brows lifting up.
“Yeah?” she asked, shoving her hips against his and watching him hiss in a harsh breath between his teeth. She smiled, tightening her hold on his shoulder. “Being a tease doesn’t suit you,” she snarked back, fluttering her eye shut when Stein leaned forward, kissing her once more and biting at her lip.
Marie arched against him, cupping the back of his neck and playing with his hair as he sucked on her cupid’s bow, the hand he had used to undo his pants coming back to between her thighs, all but ripping her panties as he moved them out of the way, exposing her center. She shivered when he stroked over her once more, muttering out something that sounded suspiciously like “You talk too much.” She bit his lip in retaliation, wriggling as he brought himself to her opening. Marie made a muffled sound of encouragement as he rocked back and forth, adjusting his hold on her so he had both hands on her ass, digging his fingers into the flesh slightly as he sunk into her with a practiced ease.
The breathy noise she made when he was finally in all the way was drowned out by her heartbeat in her ears, and she threw her arms out around his neck so she could hold onto him more easily, as though he were the only buoy. She let her eyes flutter shut, just taking in the moment of how he had replaced the emptiness in her with himself, stretching her almost to the limit. She was always so small, and Stein was very decidedly not, but even with how many times they’d been together, and how wet she was, and how he’d prepared her, when he’d enter her, it never ceased to make her squirm about and adjust once more to his familiar size.
But after she did, god, the stretch was amazing, and he always knew just when to move, starting up a slow, careful pace, kissing her temple as she breathed hard, whispering stupid, needless things: encouragements and praises. She felt one of his hands come to her hair as he rocked in her, cupping the back of her head and moving her face away from his neck so he could kiss her, settling himself closer to her and pressing her between himself and the tree. A rock and a hard place, she thought wryly, as each movement he made moved her roughly against the bark, sure to leave scratches on her back when they were done, even through her shirt. But, if anything, the small pinpricks of pain brought just the smallest amount of clarity, the haze of pleasure broken just the tiniest bit, and it kept her teetering.
That was something no one had ever realized about her, before. That she needed that miniscule scrap of pain to intensify the pleasure so much more, and she whispered against Stein’s mouth, lips moving to kiss over his cheek and jaw, a quiet ‘Harder’.
Not that he needed her affirmation: he had direct access to her soul in that moment, and she groaned, high and soft, as he started up the brutal pace she was waiting for, bringing himself out almost all the way before swiftly thrusting in, and she let her head hang back as his hands came to her hips to smooth the motions.
“Doing alright?” he asked her, as he kissed her chin, down the line of her throat. Her hair was likely already a mess, her shoulders bright pink from the scratches, and she trembled in his grasp, listening to how his words were broken up in his own hazy pleasure, his nails digging into her skin the same way her own were digging into his.
The “mmhm!” she let out was enthusiastic, the wriggle of her hips. Because anyone could find them, and the crash of embarrassment made her feel helplessly aroused, so wet that she irrationally wondered if all the liquid in her body was going to drip out of her. Anyone could find them, find him inside of her, fucking her silly. And she wouldn’t even care, that was the worst of it all. That she was beyond propriety, made of nothing but nerve ending that were humming, her belly ignited, every piece of her too warm and the ache between her hips downright throbbing in a need that escaped words.
And when he told her to hold on, held her up with only one hand as the other spread her open to rub at her clit, she almost let go of him, jolting. She was already so overly sensitive, whimpering as he pistoned in and out, fucking her raw in the training forest. The way he was stroking over her already swollen bundle was going to make her snap.
When she moaned, probably all too loud, she didn’t even know what she said. It could have been his name or, hell, her name, or even her favorite color, but she just knew that if he stopped, she’d die. She’d just die out in that fucking forest and she thinks she told him so, babbling as he somehow intensified everything: going harder, and faster: working over her clit like a man on a mission.
She could have been anywhere, really. She barely had a grasp of what was happening. Her world narrowed in to between her legs, to his shoulders, to the impending, devastating release that she could feel was going to wreck her as it always wrecked her. And, when she broke apart in his arms, turned into a squirming, arching, babbling mess, she made out his quiet moans, but she was too busy trying to gasp in air, to keep herself sane. It was easy to lose herself in the wave of all that pleasure, in the hard hit of release. But she focused in once more, moaning helplessly as he chased his own release, and she could feel him throbbing, his pulse in time with her own as she clenched around him, her body never wanting for him to leave.
She was boneless and pliant in his hold, doing little more than gasping when he came inside of her, his entire body shuddering, knees likely buckling, because she felt him lean his weight against her. It was a good thing he had more than ample experience in holding her: that he was still so physically strong, else she’d probably be lying in the pile of leaves beneath his feet, disconnected from him so harshly.
Instead, it was a slow sink to the ground as he gasped, and settled onto his knees, keeping her in his lap as she stroked at his hair and his shoulders, smoothly kissing over his face.
“You doing okay?” she asked, words barely wisps as she took care of him after his release, still filled by him, and he nodded quickly, resting his forehead against her sweaty shoulder. She cooed, humming contently as he brought his hands from her hips and ass to her back, massaging and tenderly tracing over the superficial scratches.
A moment later, barely even, she could feel the spark of smugness in their connection, his wavelength ablaze and alive, their resonance so strong she swears there was a crackle in the air.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he chuckled, still not even remotely close to composed. And she raised a brow, though he certainly couldn’t see it. “Only that, do you recall when you were concerned others could hear you?”
She practically lit up, not knowing how loud she had been, but certainly embarrassed to find out. “Franken-“
“Well,” he said, and she didn’t even need to see him to hear the proud grin on his face.”It’s my professional hypothesis that all of Death City is well aware of just exactly what we were doing.”