What's Unsaid.
For the dakinkmeme.
Prompt: O'Brien/Lang, What's Unsaid.
Woah, it's been a ridiculous amount of time since I wrote any het!
Mr Lang was good with his hands.
On this basis he had first recommend himself to her as a skilled man and she was glad to know him but as time had gone on she’d been unable to draw her eyes away from the confident way he maneuverer a needle in and out of the same spot - sometimes he was quicker than her but then she had been distracted by him - and the delicate way he handled the soft materials. Sometimes he even helped her with Lady Grantham’s mending as Lord Grantham was much less clumsy and as such his clothes required much less tending to and after seeing him display the same reverence for the lace and silk that made up the Countess’ under things she had very nearly fluttered around him as pathetically as Ethel.
Ethel had learnt her lesson though and Sarah was much cleverer. He was better with his fingers than anything else after all.
“Christ!” She bit her lip and burrowed her face in his shoulder, clinging to his back for want of anything better to do after he’d batted her hands away from his trousers. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood for her touch today but he was more than in the mood to find her in the yard, lead her around the back of the sheds where they wouldn’t be seen and push up her dress and-
“Jesus!”
“I never had you down as a church-going woman.”
She rolled her eyes; partly out of her old staple - annoyance, but partly because he was exceptionally good with his fingers and currently had them nestled rather snugly between her legs. He hadn’t even bothered to remove her drawers this time and she felt like a cheap tart, which she couldn’t say, in all honestly, that she didn’t like.
“If I were do you think I’d let you do this?”
“I thought it was for my nerves?”
She smiled at that despite herself but before she could retort he re-adjusted his position and found a spot she’d been reasonably sure till now was unknown to mankind and the breath caught in her throat. She moved her hands then, grasping for the back of his head and bringing him down to meet her in a kiss as rhythmic as his bloody fingers. Bloody hell, if she’d known about this she’d have found a valet to have a bit of fun with years ago!
She tried to push back against him but his hand was rather firmly pressed and he wasn’t about to be moved before time, so helplessly she wrapped her arms around his back and kissed him deeper, willing for once to abandon control of the situation. She closed her eyes as his fingers delved further, exploring her unashamedly and not for the first time and she moaned at the back of her throat when his thumb finally stopped being idle and rubbed her clit roughly until she found herself clinging to him tighter and…
Nothing.
She closed her eyes tighter and demanded access to his mouth with her tongue, tightening herself around his fingers and mentally building herself up for the climax that she craved from his gloriously rough and precise touch. However, one thought stopped her.
This wasn’t how Cora would do it.
She furrowed her brow and tried to rid herself of the thought. What did it matter how the Countess of Grantham would perform this particular task when she would never do such a thing and probably wouldn’t know how if she tried? She tried to focus her mind of his strong fingers as they rubbed her in just the right place and how expertly wielded the callous of his thumb was on her sensitive flesh and the demanding kiss but instead all she could think about was the unsure and tentative way Cora would touch her sex.
She growled in frustration and refused to let herself think about such a thing. Andrew was bloody good at this and he didn’t deserve her mind wondering like this. She tried to focus.
“Sarah…”
“O’Brien, am I doing this right?”
“Yes?!”
“Are you alright?”
She licked her lips and nodded, winding her arm around his shoulder.
“Normally-”
“I know,” she breathed out with some annoyance at herself and wriggled backwards, not getting away but letting him know it was time. “I suppose I’m tired.”
He observed her for a moment and she tried to wriggle free again.
“Don’t worry about it,” she reached for the buttons of his trousers, able to observe how much he needed this even if he wasn’t about to say anything.
“No, don’t.” He caught her wrist with his free hand and after a moment of looking around, during which Sarah was utterly baffled - had they been seen? Why wasn’t he panicking more if that was the case? - he smiled softly. “I’ve got an idea.”
Before she could respond he fell to his knees and had his head under her skirt. It occurred to Sarah for a second how utterly bizarre this would look to anyone who happened to come across them in this position and how unlikely the culprits were but she wasn’t able to sustain the thought long after his tongue replaced his thumb.
Mr Lang, it turned out, was just as good with his tongue as his fingers.
She should have known really, having observed him eating with his measured pace and enjoying every morsel with, she now realised, a rather active tongue. This wasn’t fair though; so far they’d only had entirely hands on encounters and now she was contemplating the bulge in his trousers she’d found earlier with the newfound realisation that she was going to have to put some actual effort in this time. Oh well, at least it might take her mind off how Cora would do it.
His fingers rediscovered the spot deep inside her and rubbed with wondrous dexterity once again and coupled with the tongue pressed against her she thought might be altogether more successful this time. On the other hand with him out of sight it was easier for her to close her eyes and imagine a skinnier, softer hand wrapped around her thigh, holding her legs apart to grant better access.
She closed her eye and leaned her head back against the wall, clenching her fists around thin air for want of anything to hold onto properly, thinking that if she could have a cigarette at the same time this might well be the best few moments of her life. It wasn’t that nobody had ever done this before - she hadn’t lacked for lovers over the years even if it had been a bloody long time - but most of her encounters had tended to be rushed affairs with people she’d met down the pub, and this particular sensation had been lost to her in recent years.
She didn’t remember it being this bloody good though.
Forcing her mind onto nothing but the sensation she gasped and pushed her hand into her mouth to stem the moan as the heat she’d been missing began to sear through her sex and reach a critical point before-
“Christ!”
It was over and she sagged back against the wall with a smile that precious few had ever seen. She wriggled against Andrew and this time he obliged and removed his fingers, emerging from beneath her skirts with a small smile of triumph.
“Feel better?”
She reached down to swipe at the moisture at the corner of his lips and pulled him to his feet with his collar, bringing him in for a kiss. It was a shame they couldn’t go all the way really, it wouldn’t be particularly harmful and she doubted she’d get into trouble quite as easily as other girls she known had in their youth, but apart from that worry it was bloody difficult to manoeuvre themselves without a bed and she was damned if she was going to lie on the ground at her age for anyone. There were the stables but similarly she didn’t fancy getting covered in horse shit for the sake of a quick bunk up and though he might have hours free at a time she could be called by Cora at any moment: she’d taken to calling her when she was lonely after all.
“Much better. You’ve been hiding that particular talent under a bushel.”
“I thought you might like it.”
“You’re a lot better to me than I am to you y’know?”
“You’re underestimating how much I like certain bits of you.”
She rolled her eyes but smirked, reaching for the buttons of his trousers and not letting him resist this time: she was damned if she was going to be beholden to anyone, even if it was someone she liked and what she owed him was something she wasn’t against doing. She slipped her hand inside his trousers, grasping his neck and pulling him in for another kiss as she found him ready and waiting for her touch.
She smirked around the kiss at his immediate response and wrapped her fingers around him deftly, holding him firmly in her hand as she found a rhythm of her own.
“I know you like this bit.”
He smiled and chuckled deeply, the noise rumbling from the back of his throat and making her lean forward and latch her lips onto his jaw, brushing against skin and stubble that certainly did not make her think of her ladyship and she liked all the more for that.
“God, I love you.”
Fuck.
He’d…fuck.
What was she supposed to say to that?!
Sarah moved back to meet his gaze and saw the candidness glaring back at her; he was being starkly honest with her and she was positive she wasn’t at all prepared to deal with his admission. She pressed her lips against his again, silencing him from any further proclamations and didn’t hesitate for a second before she imitated him and fell to her knees.
“Sarah stop.”
“Don’t be daft.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He acquiesced remarkably quickly once she managed to open his trousers wider and put her mouth to use. He wasn’t particularly unpleasant and it wasn’t exactly a task she had dreaded, even if they’d not done it yet, but she was more grateful than she’d ever thought possible for the gift of fellatio. The chances of him trying to stop her now were slim to none and her mouth was far too occupied to be expected to reply.
What the bloody hell was she supposed to do when she finished though? He was already hard, he’d soon be panting and she could hardly keep him in her mouth indefinitely could she…no, she was going to have to think of something. And she couldn’t honesty say she loved him either. She liked him¸ he was a very nice man and she was more than happy to carry on their arrangement for as long as they were both here assuming things didn’t get boring. It lifted her mood and helped to get rid of his demons by giving him something else to focus on but she could shatter all of that with poorly placed words.
“Sarah-”
She looked up to meet his eye affectionately, winking lightly as she brought her hand up to steady his hip, controlling his thrusts with casual ease and pulling back far enough that she could run her tongue over him. She couldn’t say she loved him, because she had promised herself she wouldn’t lie to him, but she could make him feel better quite easily and she certainly wasn’t making up her pleasure at being able to do that.
He was much quicker than her - he might have had a troubled mind but it was not a guilty one and there was nothing distracting him from taking his pleasure where he could find it. He’d been a soldier after all and Sarah remembered at the last minute to pull back and dodge out of the way rather quickly: god only knew what he might have caught from some French tart and as much as she liked him she wasn’t ready to take that risk just bloody yet.
“Christ.”
She smirked and pushed herself to her feet, shimmying into the space between him and the wall with relative ease to lean up and press a quick kiss to the side of his face.
“Have I made a convert of you?”
He laughed once but didn’t look up to meet her gaze, looking at her shoulder instead and giving Sarah the impression that he was ashamed. Which was bollocks she had no intention of standing for. Without comment she slipped her arms around his waist and angled her head till he had no choice but to look her in the eye.
“I’ve never been so fond of any man in my life,” she smiled ruefully. “I’m just not very good at saying things like that.”
There was nothing there that was untrue. He could assume what he liked and he kissed her with the same vigour he had before and Sarah only hoped the day never came when he asked her to say it.
Prompt: O'Brien/Lang, What's Unsaid.
Woah, it's been a ridiculous amount of time since I wrote any het!
Mr Lang was good with his hands.
On this basis he had first recommend himself to her as a skilled man and she was glad to know him but as time had gone on she’d been unable to draw her eyes away from the confident way he maneuverer a needle in and out of the same spot - sometimes he was quicker than her but then she had been distracted by him - and the delicate way he handled the soft materials. Sometimes he even helped her with Lady Grantham’s mending as Lord Grantham was much less clumsy and as such his clothes required much less tending to and after seeing him display the same reverence for the lace and silk that made up the Countess’ under things she had very nearly fluttered around him as pathetically as Ethel.
Ethel had learnt her lesson though and Sarah was much cleverer. He was better with his fingers than anything else after all.
“Christ!” She bit her lip and burrowed her face in his shoulder, clinging to his back for want of anything better to do after he’d batted her hands away from his trousers. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood for her touch today but he was more than in the mood to find her in the yard, lead her around the back of the sheds where they wouldn’t be seen and push up her dress and-
“Jesus!”
“I never had you down as a church-going woman.”
She rolled her eyes; partly out of her old staple - annoyance, but partly because he was exceptionally good with his fingers and currently had them nestled rather snugly between her legs. He hadn’t even bothered to remove her drawers this time and she felt like a cheap tart, which she couldn’t say, in all honestly, that she didn’t like.
“If I were do you think I’d let you do this?”
“I thought it was for my nerves?”
She smiled at that despite herself but before she could retort he re-adjusted his position and found a spot she’d been reasonably sure till now was unknown to mankind and the breath caught in her throat. She moved her hands then, grasping for the back of his head and bringing him down to meet her in a kiss as rhythmic as his bloody fingers. Bloody hell, if she’d known about this she’d have found a valet to have a bit of fun with years ago!
She tried to push back against him but his hand was rather firmly pressed and he wasn’t about to be moved before time, so helplessly she wrapped her arms around his back and kissed him deeper, willing for once to abandon control of the situation. She closed her eyes as his fingers delved further, exploring her unashamedly and not for the first time and she moaned at the back of her throat when his thumb finally stopped being idle and rubbed her clit roughly until she found herself clinging to him tighter and…
Nothing.
She closed her eyes tighter and demanded access to his mouth with her tongue, tightening herself around his fingers and mentally building herself up for the climax that she craved from his gloriously rough and precise touch. However, one thought stopped her.
This wasn’t how Cora would do it.
She furrowed her brow and tried to rid herself of the thought. What did it matter how the Countess of Grantham would perform this particular task when she would never do such a thing and probably wouldn’t know how if she tried? She tried to focus her mind of his strong fingers as they rubbed her in just the right place and how expertly wielded the callous of his thumb was on her sensitive flesh and the demanding kiss but instead all she could think about was the unsure and tentative way Cora would touch her sex.
She growled in frustration and refused to let herself think about such a thing. Andrew was bloody good at this and he didn’t deserve her mind wondering like this. She tried to focus.
“Sarah…”
“O’Brien, am I doing this right?”
“Yes?!”
“Are you alright?”
She licked her lips and nodded, winding her arm around his shoulder.
“Normally-”
“I know,” she breathed out with some annoyance at herself and wriggled backwards, not getting away but letting him know it was time. “I suppose I’m tired.”
He observed her for a moment and she tried to wriggle free again.
“Don’t worry about it,” she reached for the buttons of his trousers, able to observe how much he needed this even if he wasn’t about to say anything.
“No, don’t.” He caught her wrist with his free hand and after a moment of looking around, during which Sarah was utterly baffled - had they been seen? Why wasn’t he panicking more if that was the case? - he smiled softly. “I’ve got an idea.”
Before she could respond he fell to his knees and had his head under her skirt. It occurred to Sarah for a second how utterly bizarre this would look to anyone who happened to come across them in this position and how unlikely the culprits were but she wasn’t able to sustain the thought long after his tongue replaced his thumb.
Mr Lang, it turned out, was just as good with his tongue as his fingers.
She should have known really, having observed him eating with his measured pace and enjoying every morsel with, she now realised, a rather active tongue. This wasn’t fair though; so far they’d only had entirely hands on encounters and now she was contemplating the bulge in his trousers she’d found earlier with the newfound realisation that she was going to have to put some actual effort in this time. Oh well, at least it might take her mind off how Cora would do it.
His fingers rediscovered the spot deep inside her and rubbed with wondrous dexterity once again and coupled with the tongue pressed against her she thought might be altogether more successful this time. On the other hand with him out of sight it was easier for her to close her eyes and imagine a skinnier, softer hand wrapped around her thigh, holding her legs apart to grant better access.
She closed her eye and leaned her head back against the wall, clenching her fists around thin air for want of anything to hold onto properly, thinking that if she could have a cigarette at the same time this might well be the best few moments of her life. It wasn’t that nobody had ever done this before - she hadn’t lacked for lovers over the years even if it had been a bloody long time - but most of her encounters had tended to be rushed affairs with people she’d met down the pub, and this particular sensation had been lost to her in recent years.
She didn’t remember it being this bloody good though.
Forcing her mind onto nothing but the sensation she gasped and pushed her hand into her mouth to stem the moan as the heat she’d been missing began to sear through her sex and reach a critical point before-
“Christ!”
It was over and she sagged back against the wall with a smile that precious few had ever seen. She wriggled against Andrew and this time he obliged and removed his fingers, emerging from beneath her skirts with a small smile of triumph.
“Feel better?”
She reached down to swipe at the moisture at the corner of his lips and pulled him to his feet with his collar, bringing him in for a kiss. It was a shame they couldn’t go all the way really, it wouldn’t be particularly harmful and she doubted she’d get into trouble quite as easily as other girls she known had in their youth, but apart from that worry it was bloody difficult to manoeuvre themselves without a bed and she was damned if she was going to lie on the ground at her age for anyone. There were the stables but similarly she didn’t fancy getting covered in horse shit for the sake of a quick bunk up and though he might have hours free at a time she could be called by Cora at any moment: she’d taken to calling her when she was lonely after all.
“Much better. You’ve been hiding that particular talent under a bushel.”
“I thought you might like it.”
“You’re a lot better to me than I am to you y’know?”
“You’re underestimating how much I like certain bits of you.”
She rolled her eyes but smirked, reaching for the buttons of his trousers and not letting him resist this time: she was damned if she was going to be beholden to anyone, even if it was someone she liked and what she owed him was something she wasn’t against doing. She slipped her hand inside his trousers, grasping his neck and pulling him in for another kiss as she found him ready and waiting for her touch.
She smirked around the kiss at his immediate response and wrapped her fingers around him deftly, holding him firmly in her hand as she found a rhythm of her own.
“I know you like this bit.”
He smiled and chuckled deeply, the noise rumbling from the back of his throat and making her lean forward and latch her lips onto his jaw, brushing against skin and stubble that certainly did not make her think of her ladyship and she liked all the more for that.
“God, I love you.”
Fuck.
He’d…fuck.
What was she supposed to say to that?!
Sarah moved back to meet his gaze and saw the candidness glaring back at her; he was being starkly honest with her and she was positive she wasn’t at all prepared to deal with his admission. She pressed her lips against his again, silencing him from any further proclamations and didn’t hesitate for a second before she imitated him and fell to her knees.
“Sarah stop.”
“Don’t be daft.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He acquiesced remarkably quickly once she managed to open his trousers wider and put her mouth to use. He wasn’t particularly unpleasant and it wasn’t exactly a task she had dreaded, even if they’d not done it yet, but she was more grateful than she’d ever thought possible for the gift of fellatio. The chances of him trying to stop her now were slim to none and her mouth was far too occupied to be expected to reply.
What the bloody hell was she supposed to do when she finished though? He was already hard, he’d soon be panting and she could hardly keep him in her mouth indefinitely could she…no, she was going to have to think of something. And she couldn’t honesty say she loved him either. She liked him¸ he was a very nice man and she was more than happy to carry on their arrangement for as long as they were both here assuming things didn’t get boring. It lifted her mood and helped to get rid of his demons by giving him something else to focus on but she could shatter all of that with poorly placed words.
“Sarah-”
She looked up to meet his eye affectionately, winking lightly as she brought her hand up to steady his hip, controlling his thrusts with casual ease and pulling back far enough that she could run her tongue over him. She couldn’t say she loved him, because she had promised herself she wouldn’t lie to him, but she could make him feel better quite easily and she certainly wasn’t making up her pleasure at being able to do that.
He was much quicker than her - he might have had a troubled mind but it was not a guilty one and there was nothing distracting him from taking his pleasure where he could find it. He’d been a soldier after all and Sarah remembered at the last minute to pull back and dodge out of the way rather quickly: god only knew what he might have caught from some French tart and as much as she liked him she wasn’t ready to take that risk just bloody yet.
“Christ.”
She smirked and pushed herself to her feet, shimmying into the space between him and the wall with relative ease to lean up and press a quick kiss to the side of his face.
“Have I made a convert of you?”
He laughed once but didn’t look up to meet her gaze, looking at her shoulder instead and giving Sarah the impression that he was ashamed. Which was bollocks she had no intention of standing for. Without comment she slipped her arms around his waist and angled her head till he had no choice but to look her in the eye.
“I’ve never been so fond of any man in my life,” she smiled ruefully. “I’m just not very good at saying things like that.”
There was nothing there that was untrue. He could assume what he liked and he kissed her with the same vigour he had before and Sarah only hoped the day never came when he asked her to say it.