#the indentation between the hip and the thigh is always present in my mind.

[blackwaxidol]

re; hip dips i just realised what it is about some of my Drone drawings (unreleased) that i found odd in that they are not quite comparable to some digital drawings of women, because i draw Drone with hip dips. i assumed the... "diplessness" of digital hips was just an artistic choice. wheeze.

[modx-reborn]

eret has big dick energy. so that has me thinking,

your first time with them, you see how big he is for the first time and are nervous because you've never fucked yourself with toys even that big, but they assure you you'll take it, even if you ass is sore by morning. and you do, of course, anything for your king, but you do struggle a little bit and you do bulge a whole lot (dunno if amab bulge is even possible but do i care in the slightest? no.) but they find you struggling really hot. (also maybe slip that mommy kink in there somewhere lmao, its like a staple of my eret asks now kdhdsj)

-🐉

Good for you I do know whether or not amab bulging is possible, and IT IS!

It had all been leading up to this, this night this moment, this experience with them. Getting to do more than just be seated on their lap whining and whimpering for them to give you what you want, grinding against their thigh and pressing into the rhythm they had set for you, exposing your neck for them to lay their marks across, your hips stuttering as the multitude of marks are paired with the indent of their teeth.

While it all may have been leading up to this, there was nothing preparing you for the sheer sight that greeted you when you had been pushed back into the bed, made to watch and not touch as Eret stripped down. Throwing their clothes around as they pleased and leaving their crown exactly where it always sat, ever regal even as they finally stand naked before you.

God, you were not ready for this, not only did they tower over you in height, there was no way you would be able to take them.

Your mind was full of the idea of taking them, of making them proud of how good you would be if you did take all of them, but there was a voice in the back of your head telling you that you couldn't, one that knew what toys and others you had used or been with in the past and there would be no comparison between the two. If you did this, if you tried to sleep with Eret there would be no coming back, this looked like the start of a very obvious size kink.

There must be something other than lust and awe on your face, as soon your eyes are being dragged up, made to look at their blank white gaze.

"Now, now I know that look pretty thing. Your thinking you can't take it, it won't fit. But it will trust in mommy, we will have you fully seated on my cock, fully wrecked and sated..."

And oh how right they had been.

It was slow going, the prep was needed and it was almost torturing how they had cooed and shushed you, four fingers deep in you and slowly working you more and more open, knowing that this was at least the bare minimum they could do to work you open. Humming and keeping their thoughts present and on how good you will feel wrapped around their cock, being so good and taking all of them just as you should, paying full attention to your hole rather than the leaking cock between your legs.

Soon fingers are replaced by the head of their cock, while you had been prepped there was still some struggle to actually begin sliding in.

Eret's hands on your waist keeping you still as they try to keep from simply burying their full length in you, with every small press into you there is a twitch and a jerk of your hips as the feeling of them finally getting at least half of their length begins to cloud your mind, whines turning into slurred calls of their name and moans being dragged from your throat when they coo at you.

"Look at that... Barely half away in and I can almost feel how full you are, being so good for me, such a good little thing for your mommy. Just a little more and then I'll make sure to give you a treat, fuck you into the mattress and leave you a dumb, cock drunk little thing for me."

After all, the night was young and there was still so much yet to be done, you were only just getting to feel the stretch of them filling you and enjoy the slow pace they were setting, there was still time for them to lean back and enjoy the sight of you fucking yourself on their cock, legs barely working, cock leaking as they take it in hand using the promise of being able to cum to keep you moving.

And you would, you would do everything your mommy asked of you. Cause you were their perfect, little toy.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Side Tracked (William “Ironhead” Miller x Plus Size Female Reader)

Side tracked 

Pairing: William ’Ironhead’ Miller x Plus Size Female Reader 

Rating: (E) Explicit, (M) Mature, NSFW, 18+ Only please

Warnings: Teasing, Smut, Protected Sex (p in v), if you squint Dom Will kink, unknown pain kink (in the form of cunt slaps),

Word count: 8,053 (I’m sorry but not sorry. Goes to show I can’t write anything short.)

Summary: Vacation is fast approaching but you haven’t told Will just yet. Along with a few other things you haven’t talked about with your new boyfriend. 

Notes: Sequel to “One Touch” written for the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog​ Writer Wednesday. 

“Have any ideas for your vacation yet?” Taking a sip of her tea, eyes watching you slowly move the spoon around your own mug. Soft chuckles slips passed her smiling lips, “Earth to Y/N you with me sweetheart?” 

“Have any ideas for your vacation yet?” Taking a sip of her tea, eyes watching you slowly move the spoon around your own mug. Soft chuckles slips passed her smiling lips, “Earth to Y/N you with me sweetheart?” 

“Huh…” glancing up from staring into your favorite green Mandolorian mug with Grogu etched into the ceramic. Brain catching the fact that you haven’t truly answered her question.

Head tiled noticing the mug, “Moving in already I see.” Teasing edge to her quip a chuckle leaving right after. Swearing she heard it crack with how fast your head popped up, blank confused look filling your eyes. 

“What… what? No, I hav… we haven’t. I just love this mug is all,” bringing said cup to your lips for a deep drink mindful of the hot liquid inside. Finally catching on to the first question she asked, “And no there’s no plans for next week. Just staying home, clearing, packing up old shit to get rid of.” 

Smirk sliding over her lips she tries to hide knowing why the mug is so special and an added secret she keeps that Will hasn’t told you yet. “Why haven’t you told Will?” 

“Hasn’t come up really, besides I didn’t want to pull him alway from his job.” Nibbling the inside of your cheek thankful Isabella’s with the babysitters this late afternoon rolling the idea around to ask a delicate question. “Besides it’s early still in our relationship I wouldn’t want to impose or suggest…” 

Sensing a trouble deeper than just decisions about your vacation plans, she rests a hand on your forearm giving a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” comes out quicker than you mean it too. Giving away the fact something truly is wrong but having a hard time asking for help. 

Soft sigh leaves her lips, “Sweetheart you know we can talk about anything,” catching your eyes to convey without words the truth. “You’re my best friend so spill woman or I’ll sic Frankie on you.” 

“No please God not Morales he’ll nag like an old woman till I talk,” dramatically stating smile tipping the corners up but not reaching your eyes. Weary sigh follows, gripping the green mug a little tighter to warm your hands with the drink. “We, Will and I haven’t, not that there hasn’t been some heavy make outs but we haven’t…” Stumbling over your words trying to get them out as best you can without reverting to your shy self when it comes to intimate subjects.  

“Fucked that what you’re stumbling over?” Full smirk hidden behind her own plan mug. “Have you talked to him about why?” Shaking your head, eyes downcast biting your bottom lip in apprehension. “Communication is key for a health relationship sweetheart you know that.” 

“But what if he doesn’t want to? Maybe he’s changed his mind and doesn’t know how to tell me,” everything spilling out in a rush. Looking from the mug in your hands that Will bought you just last month to her kind eyes going soft with understanding. “I think I’m falling in love with him and it scares the fucking hell out of me.” 

Laughter full and deep leaves her lips, making you frown ready to pop her shoulder. “I’m sorry sweetie truly but I could’ve told you that just from how you talk about him. I’m not trying to make light of the situation in the least, but the two of you are as transparent as me and Frankie.” Patting your hand she takes giving a firm squeeze. “You should talk to him. Explain what you want and ask why he’s holding back.”

Neither women hear the front door open, keys quietly pressed into the glass dish on the end table behind the couch. Toeing his boots off by the front door, Will shrugs the jacket from his broad shoulders. Hearing your sweet voice tinged with uncertainty has a frown forming between his eyes. 

“I know, I’m just unsure how he’ll feel when I finally tell him. Only three months into our relationship but I’m done waiting,” hands coming up to hide your face in exasperation. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings but fuck I need more.” 

Nodding, eyes catching a shadow hovering around the outer archway into the kitchen. “You won’t know how he’ll take it till you explain yourself Y/N. Trust me when I say it’s not for the reasons you may think.” Trying to keep the smirk from her tone as Will rounds the corner. 

“Something you want to tell me honey?” Making you jump but not turn to face him. Will tries to tramp down his fear at hearing your words. True the relationship is new but he couldn’t see his life with you in it, bringing the sunshine in those dark days. Watching as she gets up from the table placing a kiss to your forehead before coming over to him. 

Hand resting on his chest giving a soft pat, “Tell her about next week Ironhead and stop hiding things from each other for Christ sake or I’ll sic Frankie on you to.” Tapping a little harder for emphasis before tossing over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow at work girlie have fun tonight,” before taking her leave the same way Will came in. 

Staring at your slumped back for a few moments, Will steps towards you right as you stand collecting the mugs to wash. Bumping into each other Will takes the cups from your hands, soft grin splitting his lips upon seeing his present. 

“You know I have mug’s here, you don’t have to keep bringing yours with you,” setting the cups in the sink, he turns to lean against the counter, hands on either side, body open much like his expression. 

Nodding, hands clasp in front of you twisting fingers in nervousness the movements pressing your generous breasts together and capturing his gaze. Clearing your throat, “I know but I happen to like that mug. It’s special,” finally meeting his stormy blue eyes. Seeing there darker and slightly blown, “You hungry?” 

“Yes,” voice gruff with arousal that he tries to clear then speaks again. “Can we talk first?” 

Worried about what could come next swiping your tongue over the full bottom lip capturing it to pull between your teeth making small indentations into the skin, “Bout what?” Cautiously stepping towards him wondering how much of your conversation he’d heard. 

“Us,” reaching out to take your hand, tugging you towards the living room. Sitting down first patting the space beside him which you take intertwining your fingers back with his once comfortable. Needing the contact for the moment to get through the conversation. 

“What about us?” Staring at joined hands, resolutely keeping your eyes away from looking into his. Thoughts chasing each other around your mind like cats after mice. Wondering if you could still back out and run home to hide. Insecurities doing damage to your confidence Will’s helped build over the last three months. 

Not letting you shy away from him, Will pinches your chin upward to capture your eyes. “What are you done waiting for?” Trying to keep his eyes pinned to yours instead of watching your lips or the gentle rise and fall of your breasts covered in a Burgundy blouse with a v deep that shows the twins off to perfection. 

Gathering your thoughts and nerves, going for blunt and ripping the bandaid in one. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

Of all the things Will’s prepared for your blunt answer isn’t one of them and surely not how you put it either. “You’ve been hanging around Fish and the misses too long.”  

Eyes rolling hard a small snort leaving your lips as you try to pull your chin from his grip. “You wanted to know Will so answer the question.” When that didn’t work you tug your hand free to cross with its partner under your breasts. 

“Actions speak better than words sweetheart,” gripping your arms, Will tugs you close. “Come here,” patting his lap your head shaking no garnering an impatience huff from his lips. Ignoring your resolute posture, Will grabs a leg and matching arm to manhandle you over his lap, shocked gasp parting your bitten lips. Till your thick thighs press into the couch on either side of his own. Rough hands drifting over your curves in reverence to settle around your waist. Gripping the softness of your body with enough pressure to keep you still. “Tell me honey what do you feel?” 

Bitting off a whimper to turn into an annoyed huff from your chest, hands going to his shoulders in the bid to keep from straddling his lap and sitting your weight into his body. The resounding growl vibrates through his chest noticing your efforts to keep from settling in his lap. Will uses his superior strength to press your curves against his angles. “Im too heavy for…” last words choked off as a gasp pushes passed first. Eyes fluttering shut at the hard ridge of his cock against your jeans covered folds.   

“Feel me baby? Feel how hard you’ve made me with just those simple movements of this fucking gorgeous body,” words escaping through clinched teeth. Gritting to keep from taking you right there on his couch like some horny teenage. 

Unable to stop your own hips from undulating against his, trying to find the right friction. Making your thighs shake, your head drops to his shoulder as he gathers you into the warmth of his embrace. “Could…” swallowing, burying your nose against the warmth of his musky cologne peppered with hints of pine and cedar scented neck. “You could have a flash light hidden in there or a Tootsie roll stashed in your pocket.” Going for a teasing tone but it comes out breathless, filled with barely repressed passion.

Gruff laughter, deep and warm shakes his chest, “Fuck you’re dangerous woman.” Brushing his lips over the shell of your ear, nipping the delicate skin with sharp teeth pleased at the gasp he draws from your mouth. Making you shutter around him, your hips rock twice more before his large callused hands pause there movements dusting his fingers under the hem of your blouse to touch skin. “Trust me honey when I say that’s no flashlight.” 

Repressing the shiver coiled to roll down you back, you reluctantly pull back to cup his cheek, thumb brushing just under his left eye, “Prove it to me Captain.” 

Low groan leaves his lips, resting your foreheads together. “God I want to honey so fucking much,” swallowing harshly raising his face so you could see the truth in his eyes. “When I make love to you for the first time Y/N I don’t want you to have any doubts about why or if I’m sticking around.”  

“I know you aren’t going anywhere Will,” leaning in to give him a chase kiss. “I just, I need more want more of you. All of you,” returning back to sitting on your knees, arms wrapped around his neck to catch his eye. Fingers card through the short locks blunt nails scrapping the scalp gently receiving a pleasure moan from the man under you. 

Cupping your cheeks, “You have me honey I promise you.” Bringing your mouth in for a deeper kiss. That barely brushed first press only serves to spark a hunger in his veins and a need to taste you. Slotting his lips over yours nipping the bottom one to make you gasp and slide his hot tongue into your warm mouth. Tangling the talented muscle with your own one hand sliding to carefully cradle the back of your neck. The other slipping down into a back pocket of your jeans, pressing you down against his harden cock and rocking you over his body. Slick gathering, dripping and coating your tights with each tangle and brush of his masterful tongue. Pulling another whimper of need from the depths of your soul. 

Air becoming a need and the only reason you break apart panting and gathering as much into your burning lungs. “Your gonna need to stop kissing me like that William or I won’t be held responsible for what I might do.” 

The use of his full name pulled a deep groan of need from his chest. The way you move against him doesn’t help his resolve to wait and make things special. “You’re making things extremely hard right now sweetheart.” 

“Oh it’s hard all right,” soft squeak exists your lips when he squeezes your ass, pushing your drenched core down against his erection a little harder. “I’m blame you for that one Mr. Miller,” eyes close to gather yourself before carefully untangling your bodies. An almost impossible endeavor with the tight grip he has on you. Holding back the giggle when you see a pout on his plush lips that you lean forward and kiss twice, “No pouts, you said we’re waiting and I’m going to hold you to that. So,” standing hands on your wide hips brow arched in challenge as you look down at him. Slowly licking your lips at the tempting sight he presents you. Tight black t-shirt covering a sculpted body of equal parts strength and softness. Arms crossing over that massive chest to glare up at you. “Put that glare away to, it’s your fault there will be no more kisses or hot make out sessions till we make love. I can’t trust myself,” eyes rolling at the smirk sliding over his kiss swollen lips. “Not to tear your clothes off and fuck you right there,” pivoting on the ball of your bare feet to head towards the kitchen. Trying to ignore the throbbing of your clit only amplified by each step away, and the fact you’ve soaked your favorite pair of panties in seconds because of Will Miller. 

“Tear my clothes off huh? Wanna get me naked that badly honey?” Getting a soft giggle in response but no actual words. Calling after you with, “We’re not done talking woman. Get back here,” low growl leaving his lips watching the sway of that generous ass he desperately wants to get his hands on. “Where you going?” 

“Dinner, we can finish our conversation in there,” tossing the words over your shoulder as you keep walking. 

Grumbling, Will stands adjusting himself to relieve at least some pressure from his cock. Wondering if he’ll make it through a bad case of blue balls intact. “Can’t I just…” the flow of words halt seeing you bent over in the refrigerator searching. Ass a ripe peach just begging to be bit into. 

“Just what baby?” Grabbing the salmon fillets, broccoli crowns and the bag of potatoes to stand. Turning to look back over at Will, who’s just standing in the doorway. Trying not to give away how his presents effects you, “You okay?” 

Gulping twice, “Yup prefect,” teeth gritting at the adorably sweet look on your face. Unaware of the affect on his body and heart you have. “Need help?” 

“Please,” bright smile tipping his own lips up to match yours. Head resting on his shoulder for a moment before you raise up on your toes to kiss him chastely. “You can cut the potatoes up while I take care of the broccoli,” setting everything down on the island to grab up two knives and bowels. Setting to work as Will slides up beside you, arms brushing while you both work. “What else did you want to talk about?” 

“Vacation,” small gasp alerts him to your slight distress. “Yes your best friend told me but I’d like to know why my girlfriend didn’t?” 

Silently cutting the broccoli from center stem, searching for words to answer. “I didn’t want to take you from your job,” giving a slight shrug. “Besides I don’t really have the money to go anywhere. I’d still come over every night or we could go out on day trips.” 

“Sweetheart you mean more to me than some job ever will,” pausing for a moment to kiss your temple. Small guilty grin spreads over his lips, “What about a road trip?” Glancing towards you, admiring the beautiful profile filling his vision. Not paying attention to cutting up the potatoes Will accidentally slices a small cut into his forefinger. Hiss sounds from his parted lips yanking his hand back from the cutting broad to check the damage. 

Catching the noise frown pulling your lips down seeing the bright red drops of blood pearling on the side of his finger near the tip. Training kicks in, grabbing for the paper towel to wrap around the wound. “Sit at the table,” voice holding a slight stern note as you rush off to the bathroom for the first aid kit and rubbing alcohol. 

“No need to fuse so honey I’ve had worse in my life than a scratch,” calling after you though your actions warm a part of Will he’s long buried to keep from getting hurt. 

Though he can’t see it you still shake your head, “Small as it maybe handsome infection can still set in and do damage just sit your sexy ass down and I’ll return shortly.” 

Entering right as Will drops down into the chair, you drag another forwards to sit. Opening the large plastic med kit and pulled items you’ve stocked up. Damping a couple small gauze squares and carefully taking the blooded paper towel from his finger. “I’m sorry,” compassionate gaze in your eyes that lock with his while gently dabbing the wound. Hearing a pained hiss exist his tightly held together lips. “My big strong Delta Focus Captain wincing at a little cut,” playfulness dancing in your eyes that stay locked with his bright blues that narrow on your face. 

“I’m injured and you pick on me,” taunting words as he keeps your eyes ensnared. “Where’s that bedside manners I’ve heard so much about?” 

Narrowing your own eyes playfully still wiping the blood away, “I don’t show my bedside manner to just any soldier.” Small snicker escapes finishing the cleaning task. “Though you’re special so I just might.” Dropping your eyes to inspect and make sure he wouldn’t need stitches. “Tis a scratch my brave warrior you’ll survive,” giving him a cheeky smile, proceeding to finish bandaging the small cut lovingly. 

Placing a gentle kiss once covered, glancing up into his eyes another gasp leaving your mouth this one different as heat floods your body. Pupil’s blown to crowd out the beautiful blue irises you love staring into. Scorching with the intensity, making you wonder how your body isn’t ash on the floor. Tongue peeks out to wet your lips dragging the bottom back between your teeth to press into trying to keep from whimpering. 

Watching every movement warring internally with himself, equal parts wanting to wait for the right moment and having come to the time now. Your mischievous banter making his heart skip a beat and expand with the very emotion he’s tried to put into words from the moment he met you. Knowing these simple gestures, the care with which you show him, how delicate you’re being or the soft press of your lips into his skin, shouldn’t ignite the desire in his blood. But here he is hard as stone with thoughts of taking you right in this very kitchen. “Come here honey,” voice deep and filled with passionate need. 

“What about our trip planning?” Swallowing your desire to obey his command, staying for a moment in your chair. “We keep getting side tracked it’ll never get planned.” 

Groaning, he hooks the legs of your chair with his feet to drag the seat closer till each of your legs slide between his. Hands gliding up your plush thighs, leaning forward and into your space, those deliciously callused large hands coming to rest on your hips. “Would you be angry if I said I’ve planned everything already?” 

Shock makes your eyes go wide then narrow slightly, “How long have you known I was taking off?” Trying to suppress the shiver wanting to run down your frame when those nimble fingers seek out the patch of skin just under your shirt. Drawing patterns that make you squirm in your seat and try to get away from giving up the secret that your back is sensitive to touch. Most especially his as desire filled fire dances across your skin heating your blood. 

“First of the month,” licking his lips slowly wanting his plans to be a surprise. But figuring now is a good a time as any, “I planned us leaving this Friday after work, everything packed the night before. Head to Arizona and drive through Navajo Nation’s Monument Valley Park.” Tracing little patterns over your soft sides as he speaks, “Do some camping, I even got us a tent attachment for the truck. Unless camping isn’t something you want to do?” Concerned lacing his tone while berating himself for not asking sooner. 

Love blooms crowding out the doubts from earlier, soft smile tugging at your lips as you lean forward to place them gently to his. Hand coming up to cup the side of his whiskered cheek. Teasing the seam with the tip of your tongue, “I happen to love camping William. Just one request?” Words ghosted over his mouth as you speak, adding two more chase kisses and pulling back to study his warring features. 

“Request away honey I’ll give you anything you ask for.” Fingers stilling on your skin a moment, breath held tightly waiting for your answer. 

Brushing your thumb over his bottom lip, soft gasp leaving when he playfully nips at the tip. “Would we snuggle in our tent?” 

“Of,” clearing his parched throat, wondering if that’s the only question. “Of course sweetheart I gotta keep you warm after all.” 

Shyly glancing from his lips up to those desire blown eyes, “Would you make love to me in our tent?” 

Damn near swallowing his tongue at your question. “If that’s what you want,” hands flattening out over your back under the blouse you wear. His touch making you squirm in his arms. Interest peeked by your movements and how your trying to escape his hands. “Something wrong sweetheart?” Watching in fascination as your eyes grow dark, libs getting heavy with arousal. Thighs pressing together seeking out some way to put friction on your clit. When you don’t answer him, Will drags his palms over your back slowly, garnering a low lusty moan from your lips. “Answer me honey is something wrong?” 

Mesmerized by the slow drag of your tongue across your lips, eyes opening and filled with dark passions. One hand coming down to rest on his thigh making his cock twitch painfully in his jeans. “No sir though if you keep dragging those wonderful hands over my back you’ll have something to take care of.” 

Low growl rumbles from deep within his chest at your emphasis on sir. Will files that away for a later discussion along with the fact that you so readily complied with his order. Another twitch makes a groan slip free, fingers digging into your soft hips to tug you forward and onto his thigh. The force making you collapse into his chest, hands gripping the back of his chair. “You’re making this really hard to keep my promise sweetheart.” 

Swallowing to moisten your dry throat, “Something is hard that’s for sure and it’s poking my leg right now.” Using your position and pressing into his thigh that flexes under you. Hips rocking in slow teasing motions, making a whimper leave your chest, head dropping to rest on his shoulder. “Touch me Will please,” ghosting your lips over his neck to nibble the patch right behind his ear. Feeling the shuttering gasp leave his body at the intimate touch. 

Pleading tone breaks him of the resolve to wait and he wraps his arms around your waist, bouncing his leg under you. Flexing the muscles just perfectly to get a gasp of pleasure to tumble from your parted lips. Breath fanning out over the mark you’ve left on his skin just south of his ear. “Thats my girl so fucking responsive,” remembering your words and movements from a moment ago, Will brushes the pads of his fingers over your back. 

Squirming in his arms a flood of arousal washes through your system making a whimper sound as you try to move away from those wicked fingers. “William,” his name existing on a whine of need as your teeth sink into the skin of his neck between shoulder and thick corded column. 

Grunting at the simple bite, body taunt like a bow string, ready to snap at a moments notice. Never this hard in his life feeling like a teenager again and unable to control himself. For you though he reigns in that need along with the desire to control the situation. A discussion tabled till later when he’s not desperate to sink balls deep into your warmth. 

Soothing voice stating, “Tell me what you need honey, I wanna hear everything and then give you what you want.” Sneaking his hands back under your blouse to touch soft skin. Interested by the fact you jump a whimper following close by more squirming in his arms. Light bulb going off in his mind. “Are you aroused sweetheart? Does my touch have that much of an affect on you?” 

Nodding against his chest where your head now rests on his collarbone, gasping for breath. Slick flooding your clinching channel that aches with each contraction. Clit throbbing with a deep need your sure only Will can fulfill. “You don’t have to sound so smug,” whimpering the words as his fingers brush along your spine till reaching the destination your bra clasp would rest. “It’s front closer,” raising your head, gathering your strength to rock over his thigh. Letting him feel the damp heat of your core, knowing it not long and his jeans will have a soaked patch just as your ruined panties already do.

“I’d say I’m sorry honey but I wouldn’t mean it.” Carefully bunching the blouse upward till he pulls it from your plush body. Tossing it somewhere behind him not caring where it lands just the position of his hands spread out over your back. Breasts filling a pretty purple swirled bra, temping his eyes and making his mouth water at the sight. “So beautiful,” leaning forward to graze slightly chapped plush lips over the tops of your heaving breasts. “Remember when you asked me if I was hungry?” 

Puzzled, desired coated eyes lock with the passion filled blues, slow nod bobbing your head. “Are you seriously stopping so we can cook?” Eyes narrow seeing a smirk pull at his bearded cheeks. On shaky legging you stand pulling your bottom lip back between your teeth to bite while your hands that he watches with peeked interest come to open the front clap on your bra. Keeping the cups in place you turn and only then drop the bra into his lap, “Shame I guess it’s plan B then.” 

Standing quickly, gripping your hips to pulling you back into his arms that wrap around our thick waist giving you a squeeze. “Plan B?” Eyes dropping to see hands covering your breasts. 

“Uh hmm, since your hungry I’ll let you eat while I go pleasure myself,” warm breath fanning out over your skin, mouth trailing kisses along the spine of your shoulder. Beard giving a delicious burn to your skin that sends a shiver through your frame. Normal insecurities long forgotten with the heat of his mouth against your skin. Those little nagging voices silenced by the hard press of his body and ridged shaft into the clef of your ass. The simple reason you’ve managed to stand in front of this man half naked and not run away belonged too Will. Who’s made you see with all the caresses, endless amount of kisses and words reminding you everyday how beautiful he sees you. 

“The fuck you will sweetheart,” sexy growl vibrates against your ear. Nipping the shell, “Move your hands baby I never want you to hide yourself from me. I wanna see all of you,” callused palms flat against your tummy, caressing the soft skin almost reverently. 

Obeying his command, body becoming pliant against his chest as your arms slide away. Replaced by the warmth of his larger hands, gently massaging each globe feeling the nipples harden and poke his callused palm. “If you’re teasing me William Miller I’ll beat your ass,” wanting the words to come out hard and full of authority. Instead issue forth on a moan chased by a whimper when his fingers pluck at your harden nipples. Tugging, drawing circles around the rippled areola hearing your breath hitch your head lolling back to rest on his shoulder. 

Dark chuckle leaves his lips brushing over your exposed neck, “Never sweetheart.” Turning you in his arms, to lock eyes as he lowers his mouth to yours. Capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, a battle of teeth and tongues. Hands groping your ass pulling you into his arms tighter. Your own wrapping around his neck, holding on like a life preserver in stormy seas. Fingers carding through his short hairs to tug being rewarded with a lusty growl. 

Breaking, panting for air, “Still hungry?” 

“I”m starved sweetheart,” walking till your back hits the cool wall. Hands splayed out around you while his body pins  you in place, “It’s not food I want.” 

Swallowing harshly, head tipping back to expose your neck which Will takes advantage up. Lips closing over your thumping pulse point returning the marking favor. As your nails scratch lightly through his dirty blond hair, tugging at the strands to urge him up towards your mouth. “Then what?” 

Rebelling against your urgent tugs, taking your hands from his head. Placing them on his shoulders  his own making a slow trek from wrist to arm, ghosting over the parts of your biceps he knows you hate. To your shoulders, gripping them tightly for a moment, as your eyes lock and you see the intend in those stormy blue orbs. “You,” licking his lips just thinking about giving your honeyed folds a taste. “I’m a starving man sweetheart and I’m gonna make you my last meal,” his words coming out on a growl that shoots straight to your core. Need throbbing your clit and press your thick thighs together trying to find friction, desire filled heat exploding out over your body. 

Whimpering, “Later,” needing him right then to sooth the ache building in your core, spreading out to tingle your tummy, heart beating triple time against your ribs. “I need you Will please. I need you to fill me, fuck me, just…” grasping at words to explain how much you need this man standing still clothed in front of you. 

Raking your nails down his hard chest, to dance across his toned stomach, gripping the t-shirt and yanking it over his head quickly. Tossing the garment somewhere unknown for the moment to press your hands into his skin. Heat embracing your palms, running the flat of them over his tawny skin and lowering your mouth to press kisses to his sternum. Bitting softly to drag a groan from the man surrounding you. 

“Is that what you want sweetheart? You need me that badly?” 

Raising your head determination fighting with desire in your eyes, gathering your courage to speak exactly what you want. “I need you desperately, I want you like no other man before. Your in my blood baby and I want you inside me,” slowly licking your lips you push his stunned body back enough so you can wiggle from between his wall of muscle and the actually wall. Pausing to brush your lips over his ear, “I want you to ruin me William, wreck me so badly I can’t walk tomorrow and feel it for the rest of the week.” Pressing your lips to his cheek before walking towards the bedroom. 

Leaving Will frozen to stare at the wall you previously stood, hands fisting to reign in the desire so potentate he’s surprised the seams of his jeans haven’t split with how hard he’s become. Breath exiting quickly as he leans into the surface for a moment till a soft moan echos from his room. Head whipping up, almost fearing a broke neck, straining his hearing to listen for another sound. This one a whimper of his name rips a growl from his mouth, feet taking up the path you proceeded first. Finding your Capri jeans dropped two feet from the bedroom, purple lace panties dangling from the doorknob. 

Pausing in the doorway filling the entrance with his wide imposing body eyes glazed over at what his vision takes in. There sprawled out over his bed the love of his life. Making that two things he’s filing away to think about later. Back arched, one hand tugging and twisting at your nipples the other toying with your clit. Drawing slow circles over the pulsing pearl, “Will please.” Another whimper existing your vocal cords, thick thighs shaking with need.  

Shucking off his jeans, box briefs tented and barely containing his throbbing cock that he palms a moment to get himself under control. That snaps the second your eyes open to focus on his. Sliding two fingers into your quivering cunt to pump slowly. Deep grunt exists, feet eating up the distance to the bed, palm slapping down over your quivering clit making you gasp and close your thighs against the sensations rocketing through your body. 

“No,” single word growled out, arousal flowing freely as Will gets on the bed. Parting your thick shaking thighs to wedge himself between. Fingers yanked from your dripping center and brought to his mouth to taste. Long low moan vibrating through his chest at the honeyed flavor of your essence. Sucking both fingers clean before placing that hand on his ridged cock. Chin dropping to chest when you cup the girth of him through the fabric, fingers dancing slowing over the pulsing veins. All thought of being gentle escapes his mind when you moan. “Top draw sweetheart grab a condom for me while I have my second taste.” When you don’t move to comply right away, Will lands another smack to your cunt garnering a moan of need from your chest. Hips cantering upward in a desperate bid for friction or to be filled. “My girl likes that huh?” Seeing the nod he groans, thumb brushing over your clit twice getting a mewl from you this time. “Words honey, use them and tell me if you like when I slap your pretty cunt.” 

“Yes sir,” gasping at the feeling of his moist breath fanning over your burning skin. Chase kisses planted all around except the one place you need him most. “Please Will.” 

Smirking from between your thick thighs spread open for his hungry mouth. Hands splayed over soft skin brushing back and forth to drag a shiver from your body. “Please what honey?” Not letting you answer, lips forming a perfect O around your clit and sucks deeply. Wicked tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird in flight. Extricating a scream of pleasure from your panting lips, back arching as hands shot down to card through his thick hair. Tugging on the locks harshly, trying to rut against his face. Whimpering when he pulls away to smack your pussy to reel your orgasm back in. Licking his lips of your essence, missing the bits still clinging to his bearded chin. “I need an answer sweetheart.” 

Head raising to half way on shaky elbows, glaring down at him, unprepared for the quick slide of two thick fingers deep into your quivering cunt. Choking out any form of coherent thought and dropping back against the sheets. One hand fisting the dark blue fabric as the other cups a breast, tugging at the nipple and adding little pinches to the gathering storm of need. Feeling those delicious tingles of pleasure lighting across your spine, dancing through your belly as the coil winds tighter in your body. With every thrust of those fingers, crooked upwards in a come hither movement, brushing against that little sponge spot making stars explode behind your eyes. 

Pride, desire and love dance across his veins at seeing you so wanton under his administrations. Carefully yet quickly opening you up by adding a third finger to stretch you. Pleasurable burn short circuiting what’s left of your thoughts, instead focusing on the indulgence of those thick fingers bottom knuckle deep inside you. “Look at you sweetheart, spread out over my bed, fingers deep inside this pretty cunt making you wither and moan my name. Fuck if you aren’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Mouth connecting with your clit dragging another loud moan of his name from your lips. 

“Like that Will, just fucking like that,” mumbling words, head thrashing against the pillows wanting to hold off till he’s inside you but with every thrust of the skilled fingers. Mouth drawing out different letters of the alphabet to make you quiver around his body. Moans and whimpers dripping from your lips punctuated with his name and various words of pleading. “Close Captain so fucking close.” 

“Cum for me sweetheart, fucking soak my hand and the bed under you.” Groaning at the use of his rank, cock twitching painfully inside the tight cotton confines of his black boxer briefs. Watching your back arch when he draws your clit between his lips and sucks hard, tongue flicking quickly to match his fingers. Groans added vibrations to your pleasure as his fingers keep the same quick pace sending you flying over the edge at his command careening into your orgasm. Breath gasping from your lungs, thighs trying to close around his head, shaking from the effort before they drop flat to the bed. His broad body blocks there bid as he works you through the high. Fingers sloshing through your soaked walls, mouth dropping to catch each drip to savor. Pulling from the squeezing depths that try to weakly suck them back in to his mouth and lick them clean. 

Surging up your body, cotton covered cock slotted against your soaked folds. Groaning when you weakly start to rut against him, eyes fluttering open to see him hovering over you on his forearms. “Hello there my Captain,” wrapping your arms around his neck and quickly bringing his lips to crash against yours. Nipping and tasting the remains of your tangy essence from his tongue that you promptly suck into the hot cavern of your mouth. Pulling a groan from the man above you who rocks against your drenched folds slick soaking through the cotton.          

Blindingly reaching over to open the top draw, grabbing a condom as your hands work to take his underwear off. Sighing in relief at being free, both of you fumbling together while lips are still locked in a heated battle. Gasping for breath and angling mouths to draw in air through your noses, sharing the hot commodity. Only breaking on a growl when your hand wraps around his hot shaft giving a hard squeeze and starting to pump slowly. Foreheads resting together, dragging the palm of your hand over the weeping crown, gathering the precum for lubrication. Till he pushes your hand away getting a huff of annoyance from your pouting lips. 

“Put that lip away sweetheart before I put you over my lap and spank that pretty ass of yours.” Ripping the condom package with his teeth and fingers, pulling the thin piece of latex from the confines. Only to have you snatch it up and slide down under him till your level with his throbbing cock. 

Placing a kiss to the angry red crown, lapping at the slit and getting a hiss from the man shaking above you. Smirk he doesn’t see but hears when you say, “You can owe me a punishment Captain but I wanted my taste.” Giving little kitty licks around the crown several more times. Enjoying how your making him shake, and rut against your body. You pull away to slide the condom over his cock, one last kiss to the head before shimming your plush frame against his and back up towards the pillows. Arms going around his neck to pull him back in for another kiss. 

Only to chase his mouth that he refuses to give you his lips, “Think your cute huh?” Rising up on his knees to spread your thighs over his, opening you up wide for him. Hands trailing over your body teasingly slow, pausing to pinch both nipples. Getting a whine from your chest that makes a smirk pull at his lips. Desire darken eyes lock with yours, “By the way sweetheart,” brow arched. Left hand wrapping around his cock pumping a few times before notching at your dripping entrance. Teasing you with just barely pushing the head in and back out. “That was one, I plan to pull at least three more from you before tonight is through.” 

Eyes widen at his declaration, “You…” choking on the words you’d planned to say with the hard thrust of his cock deep inside your tight channel. Silent scream forms on your lips, air quickly expelled by the force, hands scrabbling to grip his shoulders. 

Pausing to let you adjust to his girth, Will dips to capture a stiff peaked nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. While arranging one thigh against your chest and draping the leg over his shoulder repeating the action with the twin. Folding you almost in half and sliding that much deeper into your pulsing depths letting your breast go to drop his head between them placing kisses trying to reign himself in. Not wanting to loose control and cum too soon. 

“Fuck sweetheart your so tight and wet for me,” moist breath heating your skin. Setting a hard punishing pace that has the head broad slamming into the wall with his masterful thrusts. Puling out till just the cock head rests at your entrance before surging forward hard and deep. Eyes rolling back as you gasp, clutching at his shoulders slick with sweat. 

Beading across his hairline to slide down his cheeks, cupping them with trembling hands and bringing his mouth back to yours in a desperate kiss. Tangling your tongues together, one leg slipping from his shoulder to wrap around his waist pressing into his pert ass and pushing him deeper if possible. The sheer girth of him splitting you open as he takes you hard and deep. Nipping his tongue twice and pulling away to gasp out just trying to gather air into your lungs. “Will,” name whimpered passed your lips fire dancing across your veins demanding more. 

“I know sweetheart, fuck I know,” growling low bringing your other leg to wrap around his waist. Reaching up to grip the head broad, thrusts shortening but still deep and quick. Chasing that high he knows isn’t long in coming with the way your walls quiver around him. “Honey you gotta give me another one, need you to cum for me.” Gritting his teeth, looking over your beautiful face soaking in the look of pleasure painted over your features, coated in sweat and desperation pinching your brows. 

Eyes tightly closed, little stars exploding, his words filtering through the sexual haze he’s brought over you. Heavy libs flutter open to watch him above you, rippling muscles, biceps flexing around you. Hands caress his back, coaxing his hands down to cage you in and press you deeper into the mattress. Hiking your legs higher on his waist, feeling his pelvis grind down against your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure to crest over you. Slipping one hand between your bodies needing a little push, only to have it brushed aside by Will’s larger hand. 

Callused fingers circling the little pulsing nub of your clit getting a breathy moan from your throat that chokes off into scream of his name ripped from your lips. Orgasm washing over your body, making you float between paradise and reality soaking his cock and making you gasp for breath, body shaking while surrounded by Will. His musky cologne, pine and cedar mixing with the scent of sex a heady fragrance that tingles your scenes. Silently chanting his name while he works you through the release. Little after shocks dance through your limbs, holding him closer and squeezing your still pulsing walls around him tighter. Feeling your slick spill out around him coating your inner thighs and down into the sheets. 

Bringing your mouth back to his for a sweet slow kiss, tangling your tongues together dragging a moan from the depths of his soul. Pace starting to falter with every quiver and clutch of your wet depths. Breaking apart to gasp for air, lungs burning, cock throbbing for release twice more he thrusts into your clutch channel. Emptying himself into the condom, movements slowing till he’s spent and drops carefully into your waiting arms. 

Brushing your fingers through his soaked hair, head resting between your own heaving breasts. Feeling moist air against your damp skin, hands sliding down his back, basking in the afterglow, “Definitely can’t get side tracked while  packing.”   

Pressing a kiss between your breasts looking up through heavy libs, “Why’s that honey?” 

“We’ll never leave,” soft giggles leaving your lips. Watching as Will raises up pressing kisses to each of your nipples, dipping to press one to your neck on one of the many marks he left behind. Brushing his beard over the sensitive skin of your throat, groaning when you clutch him tightly. “Not sure if I want to now. Might keep you in this bed that whole week instead,” smirk turned groan when he pulls from your depths carefully. Placing a quick kiss to your lips before sliding to the edge of the bed to tug the spent condom off, tying and tossing it into the trash bin on the other side of the night stand. 

Rolling to your side, head propped up on your hand watching as Will raises and heads to the bathroom to clean up. Admiring his firm ass, the play of muscles with each step, tongue peeking out to lick your lips at the delicious sight he presents you. On his return trip you shamelessly ogle his front, tugging your lip back between your teeth. “Fuck your gorgeous baby,” soft smile replacing the salacious smirk. 

“I can say the same about you sweetheart,” warm wet cloth in hand, he coaxes you to lay back and wipe the remains of your slick from your tender folds.

“Hmm, thank you William,” feeling shy in that moment, watching him toss the cloth into the hamper, before crawling into bed behind you. 

Strong arms wrap around your soft body to pull you against his hard chest, “Never have to thank me for taking care of you sweetheart.” 

Turning in his arms to rest face to face, placing a hand on his cheek, “Only if I get to thank you in other ways?” 

“And those would be?” Leaning close to rest your foreheads together. The arm around your waist pulls you flush against him warm palm cupping your ass getting a squeak from your kiss swollen lips. 

Tracing patterns over his tanned chest, circling a nipple giving a light pinch to the peaked tip. “You’ll have to wait and see, I won’t give away all my tricks so soon Tootsie roll.” 

“Tootsie roll?” Playful growl leaves his lips pushing you onto your back and hovering over you. “Oh sweetheart I’ll show you Tootsie roll.” 

Giggling and squirming under him thinking your life couldn’t be any better. With the man of your dreams giving you delicious beard burn and loving your body like no other. 

Till the weekend rolls around and you get to give him one of those special thank you’s. Waking him up with your warm mouth pleasuring him as the sun rose outside your tent and his deep moans echoing pleased smirk on your lips the rest of the day with how weak you made him that morning. 

[inviouswriting]

Restraint

Second Ascension Berserker Arjuna x fem!Reader.

Under two of my kink prompts for use of specific toys. I’ll hide those under the cut.

This is a smut.

Kinks -  cockrings.

You marveled at the mild glow of the henna that is present on his skin. The patterns were interesting places to touch whenever you rode him. This form of his berserker self is gorgeous to look at, from the black hair resting on the pillow, to the dark skin just under your fingertips touching over the blue of the tattoos that adorned his body.

Arjuna is restless, you had been teasing him for a while, coaxed him into letting you put a cock ring on him. You had his hands secured to the headboard, you knew with ease he could break free he humored your requests. When you secured the band at the base you scooted up to give him a full kiss. Arjuna meets you for it, eager to feel your lips and taste you. 

You let him push his tongue into your mouth, you meet it and gently give it a suck as you fall into a rhythm with him. Your hands going into his hair to comb through it, Arjuna rests his head into your hand enjoying the affection of your fingers through his hair even reaching up to touch around the horns.

Arjuna had listened to you in stripping entirely, all that was bared to you is his dark body, you noted how his skin is alot darker than the archer’s almost black save for the ink that adorned his body.

Your hands move from his hair to rest on his chest, pushing yourself to sitting upright. You purposefully scoot down his body grinding your hips along his as you sit on his knees. Arjuna sees you lay down on his legs, your face to his groin. You kiss a path along his abdomen till your lips start pressing along the base of his dick. You kiss around the ring nestled there, feeling the twitch of him hardening at what this means.

Arjuna takes in a breath of air as your plush lips press feather light touches along his shaft, along the underside. He is delightfully big, curving towards his belly, the dark red tip leaking already of precum that you can’t wait for on your tongue.

You tease him instead with gently circling your tongue around the underside of the glands. You hear the rustle of the silk you wove around his hands preventing him from touching you.You sweep your tongue right around the edge from that sensitive spot just below the slit to the very top feeling him shudder underneath you for more.

“Master...” His voice cuts the silence in the air, and you look towards him, his chest already breathing heavier, you glance up to see him watching you intently as you run the flat of your tongue along the tip before swallowing him down into your mouth. You lave at the head when you pull up, enjoying the feel of him against your cheek as you take him back into your mouth full. 

Arjuna emits moans, his tail curls around one of your hands, the two ends towards your wrist. When you pull up again, you run kisses down the top of his dick down to the base. Your tongue returns to the underside running along the veins just at your tongue tracing and focusing on one spot. The tail gripping your hand is tighter, and you chance a stare again seeing Arjuna’s eyes closed, mouth parted as he focuses solely on the pleasure.

You focus on one side of the head of his dick, tip of your tongue just pressing to the slit at the end. The moan that comes out of your berserker makes you glad he has such restraint in himself to indulge your kinks. You hear him pull again on the fabric, the delicate reminder that you trust him to be patient, and he trusts you with his body.

“Arjuna. Your tail.” Your voice cuts through the cloud of pleasure in his head, and his eyes open to meet yours, you grimace and raise your arm and he uncoils it. Seeing a dark spiral indent from the appendage.

“Sorry.. master... it felt so good.” You tilt your head as you smile at him, then go back to pleasing him. The ring in place prevents him from cumming too soon, and you almost give into your desire to see his abdomen painted in his own seed. To see the white among it, you instead focus on the side of his cock sucking along it while locking eyes with his dark ones. 

You see his hands clench into fists almost tight enough for his nails to dig into his own palms at such a display before him. You mouth kisses along his shaft till you take him back into your mouth and suck just at the head again till he bucks hard up into your mouth wanting to feel it. He wanted relief, he wanted to fill your mouth with a hand pressed on your head and you looking up at him as his seed dripped off your tongue. Or he wanted to see your composure so lost as his cum leaked from your soaked pussy. The thing that kept him from doing so, was the promise he’d let you have your fill first. Until you told him he could enjoy himself, he is yours per promise and command.

Arjuna sees you move, getting up from laying on his legs, he also sees you removing the ring from around him, the bright gold that had complemented his skin so nice, and he sighs in relief with it off. You move to turn away from him and sit on his chest. He looks up at your back wondering what you are about to do, seeing you lean forward, he sees as you part your legs wide hooking your feet along his shoulders under his arms. To his eyes only, you give him a much more sinful display.

You had to do this facing away from him, you would lose your nerve if you could see that hungered stare as you slip your fingers into your pussy making sure to spread it for him to see the spot he desperately wants to be inside. You bury your face into his abdomen, your free hand going to stroke and pump his dick in time to the movements your fingers are doing.

Arjuna feels your hot breath against his stomach as you pant and he watches your fingers work inside yourself noting how they don’t reach deep like his do. That if his hands were unbound he would have used his tongue by now. He does curl his tail around your stomach slipping the two ends down along between your legs. You feel the tips of his tail flick across your clit helping you where he isn’t bound to the bed. 

You let out moans, and keep pumping his cock, Arjuna pushes his hips up to your hand as you squeeze him. Arjuna feels your mouth return to his dick, you focus licks and kisses along the underside till your mouth takes one side of his sac into your mouth to suck on it. This makes the berserker come undone at feeling this.

You hear a small snap of the tether that held his wrists broke. You feel hands on your thighs, and don’t scold him when he tugs your fingers free from inside, cleaning them off as they’re pulled free. Before he devours your pussy, his tongue pushing in deep along with the ends of his tail using the appendage to wriggle in ways he can’t with his fingers or his penis.

Arjuna hugs your waist to him, and feel him lift you in a way so your legs rest over his shoulders. The throb of his cock in your hand encourages you to do the same, you lick a path along the base on the underside. You focus your attention there. Your berserker feels a cool yet wet heat on the other side of the sac and his hips push up wanting to feel your mouth on him. You tease him by not doing that, focusing along the ridges and sides till your lips meet the head.

Before you could grace him again with your mouth, you are taken off of him. Arjuna had more than enough teasing, and from the way he flips you over onto your back. You stare up into your berserker’s face, a silent plea in his eyes as he positions himself along your opening. You feel the throb off his erection, the heat as well as he grinds himself against you wanting in but wanting your consent.

“Go ahead.” You give him his permission, and with him tugging your legs up, he pushes in without hesitating. You yelp at the plunge in, he ignores the sound in favor of pushing in as deep as he goes. You feel just how much of his retrain is gone  when he does shallow pushes in then pulls back. Impatient for you to adjust, his size is the only thing that you have to wait on, the berserker had enough girth to intimidate you, but he always held still knowing how much you can stand.

When your legs wrap at his waist, Arjuna pushes in deeper, only to pull back nearly all the way and thrust back in hard. You reach your hands to cover your face, looking at him through your fingers. He sees this shy demeanor and scoffs.

“Too much for you? I can assume the white form, I know how much you enjoy that one too. Or perhaps the third one.. Master.” You contemplate the idea, his size varied in all three forms. He was bigger in his third in girth, while he was longer in his white form. You shake your head, and move your hands to splay across his abdomen where you reach. Fingers ghosting along the tattoos along his skin.

“This one.” Arjuna lets a rare smile grace him, he leans over you, and collects you into his arms as his pace increases faster. Till you are crying his name under sighed breaths. Your hands in his hair pulling on it till his thrusts are a brutal pace. You lose yourself to him, you cry under frustrated breaths.

Arjuna focuses directly on you, his hands under the backs of your knees to keep them held up and apart. His thrusts are hard, and his tail is coiled on one of your legs like your arm earlier. You didn’t mind your leg when he gripped it, you had other marks from the time he had whipped you with it on your back.

You grip two long tufts of his hair on either side of his head and pull on them. Arjuna feels the tug as you lose your senses more from the different pressures of pleasure through you. 

Arjuna moves his hands from your legs to your waist pulling it to him, thrusting harder till you were sure you can’t walk afterwards. You feel one hand slip between you both, and his fingers begin to rub your clit in quick circles, trying to further you along to an orgasm.

“Come on, my master... come on... focus here. Feel just me.” He notes the tears at the edges of your eyes, the overwhelming sensation hitting you. Yet his words and voice ground you to him.

You didn’t need much edging on till you start a few silent moans, the pressure in your belly full, and you grit your teeth as you focus on that sensation your lover gives you. Arjuna tugs your hands free of his hair for fear you’d pull the locks out. He sits up to watch you as you reach your orgasm, a hard one. The cry of his name in a breatheless scream and he feels warmth hit his waist as he gets a squirt out of you.

Arjuna keeps rubbing your clit through it, ignoring the fact his hand is drenched in your fluids, he focuses on just how much you lose yourself this way. His thrusts never stopping even as you clamp down and squeeze him.

You feel him thrust through his own climax pushing hot cum deep inside with each thrust in. He seats himself full inside, he half lays on top of you catching his breath, and you run your fingers through his dark hair. He minds his horns as he tilts his head towards your neck and buries his face into the crook of it.

“We’ll go again, right?” You hear, and snap your attention to Arjuna, he eyes you out of the corner of his eye. You know well he intends to hold true to his words.

“Yes, we can go again, but let me rest first?” You plead.

“For a little bit. May I stay in?” He pushes his hips forward enjoying the feel of you tight around him.

“Y-yes... you can.” Your eyes dart away from his face, and he tilts your head back to him to claim your mouth in another kiss. 

[powerfultenderness]

Birthday Treat

Title: Birthday Treat

Rating: T

Pairing: Hux/Reader.

Summary: A birthday surprise from Hux leads to a very interesting interaction. 

Word count: 1375

Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you to @huxismyman​ for letting me use their pic of a smiley Hux! ❤

[Masterlist]

-

Today was just like any other day to everyone, even you, but it also marked the day that you turned one year older. Nobody knew of course, unless they were looking at your file for some reason, and you didn’t tell anyone. Those in the First Order rarely did. Birthdays were usually recognized just in circles of family and close friends, and then celebrated either low-key or off base. 

You had no family, and only one person you’d consider a close friend. He was, however, too busy for you to bother with something as silly as a birthday. General Hux, Armitage, was hardly the sentimental type too.  In fact, if someone on the outside were to observe your relationship, they’d hardly say it counted as a friendship. But it was. It was just...subtle. 

So when you walked into your room and found a box tied in a silk ribbon of your favorite color sitting on your bed you were confused. It was clearly a birthday present, but there was no card, nor tag.

Inside the box was your favorite dessert. And that was your only clue. Who else could know three details-your birth date, favorite color and favorite dessert-that were so personal? Sure your birth date could easily be found in your personnel file, but the other two details? It had to be Hux. 

You checked the time, he’d be on the bridge right now, not due for a break for some hours yet. Ah, well, you’d just have to set an alarm. 

General Hux sighed as he sat down at his desk. Today was such a stressful day. Ren had been a handful, as always, and the new intern was so incompetent! He glanced at the time and wondered if the only person he actually cared about was awake. Doubtfully. 

He wanted nothing more than to talk to you and get all his frustrations off his chest! Well, there was one thing he wanted more than that, but he was hardly in a position to demand that of all things. That would be completely inappropriate and would ruin the relationship, friendship, that had taken so long to develop. Still, he hoped your day had been easier than his. He hated that your schedule had shifted so that he barely saw you in weeks.

A pinging at the door drew him from his thoughts, he cleared his throat, sat up straight and hit the button that would open the blast doors. “Enter.”

He relaxed, and couldn’t help the tug at his lips as he saw you enter. You had both hands behind your back, very proper, and saluted him with your right hand. “General Hux, sir.” 

The blast doors closed and you dropped your salute. 

He greeted you and motioned for you to sit down. “Shouldn’t you be resting now? I don’t need personnel falling asleep on their jobs.” 

“Yes sir.” Part of him was alarmed with the formality of your tone. Perhaps this wasn’t a social call as he initially thought. 

“But I found an unmarked package in my room a few hours ago.” 

A sudden wave of anxiety washed over him, his stomach dropped and he felt his heart rate increase. But mostly, he was trying to stop the warming sensation that threatened to color his face. “Oh?”

You nodded and set a box on his desk. Of course he knew what you were talking about. He had spent an inordinate amount of time looking for a discreet way to deliver this present to you. Not to mention the time he spent looking for the perfect shade of the ribbon tied on the box. Oh how foolish he felt now!

He nervously cleared his throat, “What is this?” 

As you unwrapped the ribbon he noticed a few indents in the silky material that gave tale to the fact that you had already opened it once. You removed the carefully packaged dessert, then you looked up at him and, if he were to look back at this later, he sucked in a sharp gasp at the pure brilliance of your smile. In that moment, shallow breath and quickened heart rate and all, he decided that he was going to give you the galaxy. 

You weren’t nearly as careful removing the transparent plastoid sealing in the food. “I can’t believe you remembered!” 

Hux suddenly remembered himself, he was a general of the First Order High Command, not a love-struck fool! He cleared his throat, “I don’t-”

The look you gave him cut his words short. “Oh, don’t try to deny it, sir.” Maker, he loved the way your voice made that little word sound. “No one else could possibly know this much about me.” 

“Your date of birth is listed in your personnel file.” He attempted to deny one more time.

“My favorite food and color is also in my file?” 

He cleared his throat again and looked down, seeing that you had evenly divided the small treat.

You hummed dramatically, “Welll, if it wasn’t you...I know I haven’t told anyone else my favorite foods or color…sooo, maybe they read my mind? There’s only one person on the Finalizer that can do that.” You stood up and turned to the door, “Who knew Commander Ren was so sweet?” 

Logically he knew, knew, that you would never consider Kylo Ren a friend, much less a romantic partner, but just hearing his rival’s name leave your mouth made him panic. 

“Alright! It was me!” He shouted as he quickly stood up and slammed his hands down on his desk. 

You looked at him again and laughed quietly, “I know it was you. What I don’t know is why you even tried to hide it.” 

Realizing how ridiculous he must have looked, he sighed and sat down, inviting you to do the same. If he were honest, he’d admit that his feelings towards you were more than a little intense. Instead, he gave what sounded like a legitimate excuse. “It would seem inappropriate should anyone find out.” 

“We’re friends, Armitage. It’s not even a crazy gift.” 

“Well, I suppose you’re right.” Because what else was he supposed to say? That he was afraid that you’d somehow reject him? 

He shook his head when he saw you push half the sweet to him, “I bought that for you.”

“And I want to share it with you.” 

If you ever found out that he couldn’t say no to you! 

Split between two people, it wasn’t much more than two or three bites, but you still somehow ended up with crumbs on your face. “You’ve got a little something.” He motioned to the side of your face.

“Hmm?” You wiped your hand across the wrong side of your face.

He chuckled quietly and moved around his desk. “No, here.” 

His eyes caught yours as he gently cradled your chin in his hand while his thumb wiped away a bit of crumb. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, or to move his hand from the warmth of your skin. 

It was you to break first, turning your head out of his grasp shyly and muttering a meek thank you. Emboldened by your sudden change in mood, believing it to be the same emotions that thrummed in his chest, he nudged your chin gently so you would face him again. 

“Look at me.” Though his voice was gentle, quiet even, there was a certain sternness in it that made your heart skip a beat, or simply beat faster, or possibly both at the same time. 

You stared into his eyes for only a moment before your eyes slid closed as his lips pressed against yours, softly at first but it wasn’t long before his hand moved from the side of your face to grip the back of your head, your hands clutching at the front of his uniform, his tongue entwined with yours. 

Rather hastily you found yourself shoved onto his desk, thighs wrapped around his hips. He pulled away just enough to look at you with a suggestive smirk, “Happy birthday.” And then his lips descended upon your again.

The box that once contained your sweet treat fell to the floor, forgotten in a much more interesting birthday gift. 

[hoodoo12]

uh hey!! i really enjoy your writing and appreciate it a ton, thank you for creating for all of us! if it's okay, could i request dewey being teased/edged? and maybe possibly begging? if you don't mind!! thank you again!

NSFW, of course! Enjoy!

Good Vibrations

“Remember. Hands to yourself!” “Yeah, I remember.” 

Dewey tried to sound like he was grumbling, but having to clear his throat before he answered plus the pretty flush that colored his skin high on his chest gave away his excitement. Both of you were naked, of course, and you were straddling his thighs, pinning his legs. His erection lay against his pubic bone, and neither of you had touched it. Yet. You eyed him suspiciously. “You sure about that? You don’t want me to tie you to the headboard, just in case? I can use one of your ties from school . . .” “Not a school tie!” he answered, a little too sharply. He immediately toned it down. “I mean, uh, no, I don’t think tartan is something I want to bring into the bedroom, babes . . .” You laughed and leaned forward to press a kiss on his chest. He wiggled under you, and as if to show he was going to obey, he laced his hands behind his head. Picking up the wand vibrator that had rolled against your calf, you held it up. His eyes grew a little wider, and he licked his lips in anticipation. 

“You ready for this, Finn?” He didn’t try to answer verbally. He swallowed again and nodded, his eyes flicking from the pink vibrator to yours. They were darker than normal from arousal, and that made you happy. 

This had been a topic of discussion for a while, after you’d forgotten to put the battery-operated toy away one day and he found it on your bedside table. He’d jokingly said he was hurt that he wasn’t enough for you; you’d asked faux innocently if he’d ever tried a vibrator because then maybe he’d understand why they were popular. He’d shot back that maybe you should just use it on him then, and you both laughed. That’d been weeks ago. Dewey’d brought it up in passing a couple times, and now here you were. Making sure he was still paying attention, you licked and stuck the end of it into your mouth. Just because he expected this to focus on him didn’t mean you weren’t going to have any fun! Pushing the button  so it purred on its lowest setting, you lowered it towards his groin. Dewey held his breath, his eyes tracking the toy liked they’d been glued to it, and you slipped it between your own thighs. 

His slight groan of disappointment was overshadowed by the sound you made when the vibrator touched your clit. Immediately bliss rocketed up from your pussy into your belly and chest, and you couldn’t prevent your head from lolling back as a long, unbroken moan slipped from your mouth. 

Although this wasn’t your standard position for getting yourself off, the buzzing between your legs was familiar, and having a very attentive audience sent a different kind of thrill through you. Using this toy always aroused you very quickly, and you only gave yourself another few seconds before pulling it away with a groan. Your pussy tingled for a moment, and felt chillier as the vibrator was removed. You opened your eyes. Dewey’s chest was heaving, and you hadn’t even touched him yet. His eyes were riveted to the toy and it being held between the two of you now; only when you reached forward with your free hand to scratch through the hair on his belly, he managed to drag his gaze to yours. “Okay, here we go,” you warned, and lightly touched his cock with the vibrator. Maybe he’d expected it to be less powerful; it was on the lowest setting, after all. Maybe he thought he’d be able to hold himself together and not give much of a reaction; this was for women. Either way, he failed. 

The moment the toy slid against the underside of his cock, he bucked hard enough to almost throw you off his legs. Automatically you grabbed at him to steady yourself. The vibrator also slipped from your hand and landed on his hip before rolling off to the mattress. You laughed as he said, “Jesus! You hit me with the highest setting just to prove a point?!”

“Nope. That was the lowest. Wanna try again?”

Dewey licked his lower lip and couldn’t hide his eagerness as he nodded. Using the same gentle touch, you used the vibrator to stroke his cock. Now that he was prepared, he didn’t flail enough to dislodge you. It was easy to see that he loved it: he panted and groaned. He tried to watch what delicious things you were doing to his cock, but sometimes he simply couldn’t prevent tossing his head from side to side in pleasure. When you felt the tremble in him, you put your hand back on his stomach and felt him tense and relax his abdomen. The flush that’d been present on his chest grew darker, and crept up his neck.  

All that, plus the beautiful moans and begging little words--“please, baby, oh fucking please, christ that’s good that’s good that’s good”-- made you hot too. While he was distracted, you shifted your position to only straddle one of his legs instead of both, and then without his permission you ground down on his thigh. 

He couldn’t help but feel it, of course, the damp heat of your pussy against his skin, and he flashed you a grin before his eyes rolled back when you decided to click the button on the vibrator to the next setting. He’d been good so far, regarding his hands, but a stronger pulsing against his cock made him grab the top of your thigh, pinning you there. The other almost went to the toy, reaching blindly for it, but instead of making contact he seemed to dredge up your rule and twisted his fist into the sheet to his side. 

You varied the touch and pressure to his cock, from light strokes to just focusing on the spot under the head to laying the toy completely against his shaft. Occasionally you’d give him a short break, just enough time to lick the vibrator to allow it to slide a little more smoothly against him. Each time you returned to press it against him again, his moan ratcheted up.

The sight of him fraying apart under you: his squirming, his cries, the thin sweat that had broken out on him, his fingers indenting your flesh, his cock getting darker and twitching . . . you moaned too, and you pressed down harder on his thigh, gyrating your hips to stimulate yourself. Your breath became labored too, and trying to focus on continuing to pleasure Dewey with your vibrator while the heavy sensation of solid bliss was building in your gut became a bit of a chore. Still, you kept at it, because you could tell he was nearing the point of no return. You slowed your own stimulation to watch him tumble over the edge with less distraction. With his breath hitching in his chest, a drawn out cry, and a final, involuntary arch of his lower back, Dewey came in short bursts over his lower belly. 

You kept the vibrator against him as come pumped from his cock, but in only a few seconds he batted the toy away. You clicked the button on it twice more to shut it off, then lay it aside. Gently, you stroked his sides with your fingernails. His limbs trembled.

Peeling yourself off his leg, you grabbed some tissues and pressed them into his hand. Without looking he dropped them over his cock that hadn’t lost its stiffness but was slowly leaking the last of his ejaculate. He’d mop the mess up in a moment, you knew. “Jesus, baby,” he croaked. “My dick is all tingly.”

You chuckled and settled into his side, wrapping his arm under your neck and onto your shoulders. “So you liked it?”

“I fucking loved it.” He cracked open one eye to look at you. “You didn’t get off, did you?”

“Nope,” you agreed easily. “I’m good, though.”  

He grunted a response that was neither positive or negative regarding your answer. Both of you were okay with the other not finishing occasionally. It happened. 

“I’m glad you liked it . . .” “But or and?”

You pinched him lightly. “But or and what?” “There’s a but or an and at the end of that sentence, I bet. Which one was it?”

You laughed and pinched him again. Over his offended, laughing, “Ouch!” you said, “It’s an and. I’m glad you liked it and . . . there’s plenty more to try.” Dewey cracked his eye open again, this time with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Example, please.” “Like a vibrating cock ring or that vibrator up your ass,” you replied with no hesitation. He made a deliberate show of opening both eyes so he could blink at you. You looked back with full seriousness, cocking an eyebrow at him until the smile that had been hinted at broke widely over his face. “Vibrating cock ring first, baby,” he agreed. “We’ll talk about the . . . other suggestion.” You grinned too, and surged up to kiss him. 

fin!

[captainmeowvelwrites]

Feeling Thorny (a miraculous one-shot)

Pairing: Marinette x Chat Noir Genre: Romance Rating: M for Marichat makeouts Words: 1904 Summary: Four years ago, Chat Noir had extended a rose between his gloved fingers. Pink for respect, for admiration, for friendship. Tonight, he offered another, but this time it wasn’t pink, and it wasn’t between his fingers. It was between his teeth. She was in trouble.

FEELING THORNY:

They’d done this for months: the banter, the laughter, the late-night movies. By this point, it was an unspoken routine. Why should tonight be any different?

Her parents would turn in early. She’d place a polished tray of treats on her desk and slip into her sleepwear - a silk button-up shirt with matching pink shorts. Two taps on glass would coax out a smile, and her strawberry lip balm would gleam in the soft lamplight.

“Come in, Kitty,” she’d call.

And he always did.

His leather boots (with those admittedly adorable toe caps) would greet her baby pink bedspread with the faintest of thumps.

“Bonsoir, Marimouse,” he’d say.

She always answered with an eye roll.

Bedsprings groaning, he’d launch off the mattress, flip through the air, and his boots would peck the parquet floor with practiced precision.

Like always, their eyes met – reunited, she briefly thought.

And then normality ended.

For there, flaunted between those dazzlingly white teeth, was a single, thornless rose.

Marinette stilled. Her eyes went wide. She couldn’t see her blush, but by God, could she feel it.

Those peach pink lips curved into one of his classic lopsided grins. Was this the reaction he’d hoped for? Or at least, the one he’d expected?

Her mind dove four years back, to that super awkward Sunday brunch they’d shared with her parents. He’d presented a rose then too.

A pink one.

Pink for respect, for admiration, for friendship.

This rose wasn’t pink.

No, it was red.

Red for longing, for passion, for ardent love.

It was fierce and breath-taking and utterly flawless, its every quality rivalled only by the blushing kitty who plucked it from his mouth to flourish toward her in one gloved hand, his other pressed to his heart. “For you, Princess.” He gazed at her, patiently, fondly, his eyes bright and green like precious tourmaline.

“Chat—”

All remaining words caught in her throat. Only then, as her eyes traced those full lips, did she realise how breathless he’d made her; how breathless he could make her; how breathless she longed for him to make her.

There was a thundering in her ears.

An ache in her veins.

A hastened pace to her every breath.

At one time, such sensations were familiar around another blond boy, but with him, she’d hesitated. Kagami hadn’t, and he’d dated her for three months. It had taken a year for the gracious hands of time to mend Marinette’s wounded heart.

But now, that was three years ago. Practically ancient history.

Chat Noir was her present. He could be her future too, if she damn well didn’t hesitate.

And she wouldn’t.

Not this time.

Anticipation burned in his eyes, his cheeks the same shade as the flower in his hand. He held it to her like a question, a promise.

“Yes.”

The single word was as breathless as her last, but he heard it. She knew by the adorable twitch of his cat ears. They always did that when she whispered, be it during a stealthy battle or in her bedroom at some ungodly hour. He didn't know she was his lady. Until Hawk Moth was defeated, he couldn't. But when his ears twitched that way, it was like her voice had a frequency all its own, one his heart knew well, even as his mind went on unaware.

His own voice, deep and rich and so utterly perfect, drew her from her reveries. “Yes?” His mussed locks swayed as he tilted his head. The most adorably clueless look overran his chiselled features.

It was then that Marinette realised he hadn’t technically asked her a question.

She really had a knack for getting ahead of herself.

But then again, so did he.

A laugh leapt from her lips. “Yes!” This time, the word came as a squeak, the sound sudden, shaky, bursting with unbridled joy. He still hadn’t asked her a question, but damn it, she didn’t trust herself to string anything more coherent together just yet. “Yes yes yes!” She threw herself into his arms. Warm arms. Strong arms. Shaped by five years of saving their city, five years of fighting by her side, five years of unparalleled friendship.

Chat Noir hadn’t expected her to lunge at him. She knew by the split-second shock on his face; how those green eyes had flown wide. Yet, his arms were accepting, weaving around her as though she belonged there.

She did.

Oh, how she did.

And she always would.

Marinette buried her face into the curve of his neck. She savoured the earthiness of his scent, the comforting weight of his embrace, the climbing pace of a pulse that wasn’t her own.

There was a hum in his chest as he laughed, low and playful. “I see yes is the word of the day.” He smoothed a gloved hand up her waist, along her bare shoulder, and swept it through her hair. “I’m purrfectly fine with that.”

Her giggle was soft, sleepy. His fingers slipped through her hair a fifth time, a sixth, a delightful seventh. “I thought you were the cat here, but I could really get used to this.”

“I should probably warn you”—she could practically hear his smirk—“I’m a firm believer of the old saying: I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine.” After one final sweep through her hair, his hand cupped the back of her head, his other swirling across the small of her back. “So, I’m expecting lots of ear scratches as payment. I hope you’re prepared.”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Pretty sure you’re the one who needs to prepare, Kitty. My ear scratching skills are unfurgettable.”

He laughed again, the sound vibrating in his chest. God, she could stay like this all night, revelling in his voice, his laugh, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Serious question,” he said, despite the lightness in his voice. “Have you accepted my humble offering? Which may or may not now be a trampled mess on the floor.” Another chuckle buzzed in his chest. “I mean, not that I mind you jumping me.” If she’d been looking at his face, she’d have probably been on the receiving end of a playful wink.

Marinette drew back from his neck as though doing so was a chore. Honestly, it was.

Until he ensnared her with those magnetic eyes and that heart-melting smile and those tiny dimples that indented his cheeks in the most adorable way.

“I’ll accept your humble offering.” She skimmed a hand up his chest, the leather hot beneath her fingertips. “But for a purrice.”

Chat’s eyes gleamed. “Now you’re meowing my love language.” Smile remaining, he slipped a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Name your purrice, My Princess.”

Her breath hitched, her chest burning with elation, as that nickname left his lips. Not because it was new. It wasn’t. But he’d never prefaced it with a “My” before.

She loved the sound of that.

Of being his.

As they’d matured, in every sense of the word, her mind wandered through daydreams of her kitty like a movie reel stuck on repeat. Of his lips claiming hers. Of her body pinned beneath him. Of wandering hands. But as his late-night visits had increased in frequency and they’d grown closer beyond the confinement of her mask, thoughts were no longer enough.

Her appreciation of him had heightened too. More and more, Marinette’s eyes dared to wander, to drink in that athletic physique, wrapped in leather and sculpted by superheroing. More and more, her lips spelt compliments, unleashed puns, and spread into wholehearted smiles in the light of his presence. More and more, her self-restraint wilted, while her ardour went on to blossom and thrive.

Marinette gripped his bell and tugged him close. Her heart hammered in her chest, her ears, so loud he surely heard it. “My purrice for your offering?” She wet her lips, tasting strawberry. That drew his eye. “A kiss from my kitty?”

He leaned closer. “Purrhaps two kiss—”

One tug of his bell. Marinette brought his lips down to hers. It was a soft kiss. A fleeting kiss. So sudden she had no time to tremble, and he had no time to kiss back. In the seconds that followed, the imprint of his lips still lingered on hers, and her every anxiety evaporated, replaced by the thrilling prospect of something new and exciting and real.

He gazed at her lips, his tongue idly tracing his own. His cat-eyes were half-lidded and hazed, rife with emotions unknown. That made her stomach coil. Usually, those eyes were an open book, an invitation. She’d happened upon every emotion they were capable of. Or so she’d thought. Tonight, it seemed, was a first for many things.

“You’re oddly quiet,” she whispered, grip tightening on his bell. “Cat got your—”

Chat seized her lips, fierce and feral, his claws clutching her hips, pulling her close. His scent enveloped her senses—sweet, spicy, downright intoxicating. Her fingers explored the straining muscles of his chest, his shoulders, his neck, as their lips fought for dominance. For once, he refused to follow. For once, she accepted defeat.

His tongue dipped between the seam of her lips, melding with hers in a dizzying dance. Chat tasted of caramel lip balm, of comfort and sheer perfection. He drank deeply of her with a staggering thirst, his gloved hands tracing her back, her waist, the hint of skin at her hips. He gripped her glutes, hoisting her off the floor, and her legs latched around him, the leather of his suit hot against her bare thighs.

Feverish hands plunged into the silken gold of his hair to clasp his cat ears. A wild growl thundered in his throat. He staggered three steps forward and slammed her to a wall, his lips capturing her gasp as posters rustled to the floor. His right hand hit the wall. His left caressed her cheek. Every delectable inch of his body was flush against hers, a silent disclosure of his deepest desires.

Chat’s lips pressed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her temple, as his every heaving breath flooded her mind like a symphony. He traced his tongue up her jawline. “No cat got my tongue,” he husked in her ear, “but one sure got yours.” He took her earlobe in his teeth, and she arched against him.

“Even when you’re hot,” she panted, as his lips peppered her jawline, “you’re still a massive dork.”

His teeth grazed her flushed neck, breath burning her skin. “All I got from that,” he breathed, “is that you think I’m hot.”

A smile played on her lips. “I hope that wasn’t your first clue.” She kneaded his cat ears – a woman of her word – and relished the groan that reeled from his lips; the way his hips bucked against hers; how he clung to her hair.

Their lips reunited, joining like a harmony, soft and sweet and so beautifully in sync.

She should’ve expected this. The blossoming feelings. This equal longing. These perfect kisses.

They were yin and yang.

Push and pull.

Two halves of a brilliant whole.

For years, she’d pushed her silly kitty away.

Now, she caressed the curve of that chiselled jaw and pulled those lips ever closer. They were uncharted territory, and she planned to map every delicious inch of them before the night was over.

[daddyfuckinlonglegs]

What’s that, another one? Knifeplay/edge play/sensory deprivation ahoy, you’ve been warned. Nate's knees ached. His ankles ached. His back ached. His shoulders ached .His jaw ached. The floorboards under him were warm. The metal cuffs around his wrists were warm. The air in his lungs was warm, bursting from his nose in hot little puffs. The tape across his mouth was warm against his tender skin. His teeth were gritted hard against the fire in his joints. His eyes were closed against the rough cloth. His breathing was steady, focused. His dick was so fucking hard. The footsteps were muffled, but the sound of boot-heels clicking on the wooden floor made Nate tense against the wall, shoulders pressing against the cold plaster. Sit up straight. Deep breaths. Focus. A warm hand ruffled his hair, stroked blissfully down the side of his face, and he shivered. “How you holdin' up, sunshine?” Nate lifted his face towards the voice. “Shall we take this off a minute?” Hot hands around his face, fingers moving gently at the back of his head, the soft sweep of cloth as it fell from his eyes. He opened them, squinting against the dim light, blinking and turning his face downward, until the room came into focus. “There ya go, how's that?” Nate raised his head again slowly, drinking in the colours of the room – rich yellow light, the mahogany boards, the smart, bright crimson of that coat. Hancock stood straight, looking down at him, nudged Nate's knee with the toe of his boot, a jolt of pain buzzing through the joint. “Y'know how long it's been?” Nate blinked, shook his head. “Forty-five minutes. You're doing swell. Must be burnin' up in those knees though, huh? You want a little stretch out?” Nate nodded. Hancock sighed and squatted down beside him, a wicked smile playing at his lips. “Fifteen minutes, sugar. That's all. Fifteen minutes.”

He wrapped the cloth back around Nate's eyes, tugging it tight, knotting it, loose strands of hair catching in the knot, pinging sharp sensation at the back of his head. Hancock's hand trailed down along Nate's jaw, thumb swiping across the duct tape over his lips. “Y'know, I like you this way, brother. None of that smart mouth you're always runnin'. Shit, I could keep you around like this for a long time...” Hancock dropped his hands and pressed his thumbs into the muscle of Nate's thigh; he gave a sharp, muffled yelp, pain searing up his hips. Hancock smiled, standing up, trailing his hand along Nate's shoulder. “Yep. A long time.”   His footsteps receded again,and Nate sank into the blackness of his breathing, long, slow, pulls of cool air, hot streams that warmed his mouth as he exhaled. Christ, his knees fucking hurt, the bones grinding into the hard floorboards, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder, focusing on the feeling of his lungs filling, and the smooth warmth of the wood, and the hard, urgent tension in his groin. Fuck. He thought about Piper; the gentle way she stroked his skin, the playful kisses she planted in weird places (the indent in the middle of his chest, the palm of his hand, his armpits, between his shoulder blades), her hair curling around her face, brushing the tops of her shoulders, her cold skin in the rain, her hard, pink nipples, the softness of her open mouth when she sucked his cock. His stomach twitched, jerking his dick upwards, and Hancock laughed, distantly. “Thinkin' happy thoughts? Wanna be careful there sunshine; don't spill it too soon, or trust me, I will make you regret it.” His footsteps paced back across the room to Nate's side, and the cold, shivering sound of a knife being unsheathed came from his left. “Really regret it.” Nate sucked air through his nose, and Hancock pressed the point of the knife to Nate's collarbone; Nate flinched, rocking back, fat pain shooting through his legs, the knife nicking his skin. Hancock tutted. “Now look what you did. Gone and got yourself bloody.” He squatted down, trailing the point down Nate's chest, scraping the skin delicately, and back up to his neck, digging a little harder, thin red lines raising across Nate's skin. The man trembled under his hand. Shit that was hot. He pressed his mouth to the thin trickle of blood running down Nate's chest, lapping gently with his tongue, licking across his collarbone, up his neck. “You like that, brother?” he purred in Nate's ear, “You wanna bleed for me?” Nate exhaled, a muffled groan in his throat, but it was all that Hancock needed. He grinned, and twirled the knife, the point twisted a notch in Nate's pale skin, and Hancock dragged it firmly across his chest, slicing a beautiful red ribbon across his flesh, rubbing his hand along the man's thigh, achingly close to his cock. Nate squealed, sucking hard at the gag. Hancock stood up, roughly tugging the blindfold away, and tearing sharply at the tape covering Nate's mouth, pulling it away. Nate grunted, gasping at the air, his mouth raw and pink, a tiny blossom of blood forming on his lip where the skin had split. Hancock grabbed his jaw, jerking his face upward, and pressed the knife to Nate's throat, the mean edge digging below his adam's apple. “Ten minutes left. Suck my dick, pretty boy, or they'll be the hardest ten minutes of your life.” Hancock unfastened his pants roughly, and Nate bent forward, throat tightly pressed to the knife, pulse throbbing against it, mouth leaning hungrily against Hancock's soft dick. He took it in his mouth, all of it, sucking and rolling his tongue over Hancock's mottled skin, and a rush of pleasure hit him when the ghoul reached a hand into his hair, his dick hardening fast in Nate's mouth. Hancock sighed, rolling his head back to the ceiling, stepping back a little. Nate strained his neck, leaning forward, and Hancock tugged at his hair, pressing the knife harder. He stepped back again, Nate's shoulders burning with tension, and again, until Nate was on the bones of his knees, leaning all his weight on one shoulder against Hancock's thigh. Hancock pulled his hair again, fingers fisted at his crown, jerking his head up, arching his back. He stepped away, pulling out of Nate's mouth roughly, letting the knife and the hand in his hair take all the weight, and Nate yelped loudly, the muscles of his back singing in agony as he tried to keep his balance. “Almost there.” The ghoul laughed cruelly. “Wonder what happens if I let go? One wrong move and it'll be the end of you, huh?” Nate gasped and gagged, eyes screwed shut, afraid to speak, sinking deep into his mind and stinging sharply in the present all at once. He couldn't do it. He couldn't stay on his knees any longer, this was it, this was it, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! He tried to call out, but his throat was dry, a cracked groan the only noise he could make, and his knees gave way. Hancock reacted fast, jerked him roughly aside, letting him slam heavily to the floor, the impact blunt and cold and bruising, but the stinging, aching relief that sang through his legs was... oh, bliss. He lay on his back, chest heaving, arms still tight and numb behind his back, and Hancock dropped to the floor beside him, stroking the knife up his belly in long, smooth strokes, like a butcher sharpening the blade. “Close call there sunshine. Bet that adrenaline is something, huh?” Nate nodded weakly, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. Hancock reached into his pocket, jangling the key to the cuffs and rolling Nate to his side. “Here, hold this, wouldya?” He pushed the cold blade into Nate's mouth, and Nate clamped it between his teeth, shivering as the ghoul uncuffed him. His hands were cold, purple-blue and freezing; Hancock pressed his fingers against Nate's palm. “Gimme a little squeeze, sunshine.” Nate didn't move, just breathing, deep, slowing breaths. Hancock nudged him. “Still there?” Nate squeezed the ghouls hand, firmly, and Hancock sat back, nodding, rolling Nate onto his back. He straddled his legs, pressing his ass down gently against Nate's thighs, and reached down and cupped Nate's balls, squeezing gently, rubbing his thumb in wide circles. “Y'know, you're tougher than you look. I'm a bastard, I know, but that was an hour and ten. Pushed right on through it. Special with a capital E, ain't you? Though I am looking forward to seeing you hobble outta here in the morning and try to tell your girlfriend why you're in such a state. Bruised, and bleeding, and just a little...” He bent forward, kissing Nate's slack mouth, drawing a faint, satisfied sigh. “...irradiated.” Nate's dick had softened, but the blood rushing back to his thighs - pins and needles prickling unbearably through his legs and feet as his capillaries flushed with blood again - and the ghoul's hand toying with him, and the thin weight of Hancock's dick nudging against his leg. brought him back to life. Hancock swept his hand along the shaft, slowly, slowly, tracing his nails around the head, pulling softly. Nate sighed, and Hancock brought the knife down, carefully scraping the vein on the underside of Nate's cock, up, and down, scratching maddeningly at his soft skin. He flicked the point up, tapping it gently against the sensitive spot, and Nate groaned and curled inwards, his dick twitching, cum spurting thick, across the blade, across his stomach, across Hancock's hand. He laughed, almost growling, still rubbing the blade softly against the other man, and let Nate shudder through his orgasm in a cold, sweating mess on the floorboards. He ran his fingers jaggedly down Nate's chest, nails rasping against his skin, and slid his hand under Nate's shoulder, taking the man's weight against his arm, lifting him up. “Sit up, sunshine, I still gotta take care of business.” Nate slid backwards, sitting up against the wall, hands folded limp in his lap, and Hancock tapped his cheek. “Open up. You gotta clean up this mess.” Nate opened his mouth, pushing his tongue out, and Hancock pressed the knife against his tongue, grinning. “Lick it up, sugar. Like you mean it.” Nate closed his mouth around the blade, sucking it like a cock, the metal sharp against his cheeks, the bitter, salt taste of his cum coating his mouth, and the metallic taste of the steel, like blood, stinging his tongue. He looked up into Hancock's eyes as the ghoul jacked off over his chest. “That's right, oh, that's right, you dirty fuck. Suck it, oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, I'm coming, open those pretty eyes for me.” Nate did as he was told, and Hancock bucked into his hand, thick, white splashes covering Nate's flushed face. Hancock grit his teeth, and groaned, sitting back on his knees and wiping his brow, sliding the knife from Nate's mouth and dropping it to the floor beside him. He tucked his cock back into his pants, looking at Nate, admiring the view – everyone's favourite do-good drifter, soiled and sated and bleeding, on his ass on the floor of the state house. He laughed. “You, sunshine, you're fucking nasty. Wish we'd gotten this little arrangement together sooner.” Nate nodded, smiling weakly, letting his eyes close. “Yeah.” He croaked, as Hancock planted himself beside him, running a hand softly through his hair. “No one kicks my ass quite like you do.”

[artificialqueens]

Pretty Girls in Bars That Won't Dance With You (Scyvie) - Mac

AN: Much love to writworm and Meggie for betaing and dealing with my stupid ass. This fic is based off the song Closer. The artist described the song as follows: This song is dedicated to anyone that hooked up with their EX, and right after remember all the reasons why they broke up

Also, I am not great at writing smut, but I gave it my best shot! I’m trying to write more things that I am not super comfortable with in order to become better. If you have suggestions PLEASE let me know <3

Summary: Yvie and Scarlet broke up. So, seeing each other years later at a bar and hooking up in the back of Scarlet’s car shouldn’t present any problems, right?

It was a chance look across the bar. Had Yvie not turned her head just right, they would never have made eye contact, and then they wouldn’t be in this situation. But she had, so here they were. Limbs tangled up in the back of Scarlet’s car that had definitely seen better days. Scarlet was currently staring out the window, expression blank. She was probably trying to figure out what had just happened, Yvie knew she was doing the same.

It was just a look, it shouldn’t have been so profound. Yvie had instinctively smiled. Scarlet had always managed to pull things out of Yvie that she had no idea she felt. Scarlet had quirked up her eyebrow and given a wave, before her attention was pulled away by one of her friends. Yvie took that time to give Scarlet a once-over. She looked just as Yvie remembered. Maybe there were a few more lines on her face, but the same eyes and body still accompanied that signature walk. Yvie followed the curve of Scarlet’s body and found herself unsurprised by the attraction that still pooled in her stomach. Scarlet had always been good looking, and arrogantly aware of it too. But unlike many people, her arrogance didn’t make her any less attractive. Scarlet was cocky and annoying but she had a good heart, most of the time.

That is where Yvie stopped herself. She didn’t need to get into those old feelings.

So, Yvie turned away from the sinful red dress and golden locks and too pretty makeup that made Yvie just want to ruin Scarlet. Yvie turned to look anywhere but where her gut was demanding her attention.

She looked at the walls.

The walls were boring.

She tried to listen to the music.

The music was boring.

She tried to talk to the people she came here with.

The people she came with were boring.

Scarlet was anything but boring. And damn it if the younger girl didn’t keep looking over her shoulder at Yvie with those “fuck me” eyes. Yvie gave up trying to pretend she wasn’t staring, and leaned back against the bar, openly admiring her ex. Scarlet was glowing under the attention. Scarlet had confided to Yvie one night, that she always knew when people were looking at her. Yvie asked her how, Scarlet simply smiled, “People are always looking at me.” Yvie had slapped her ass playfully then, but known in her heart that it was true.

And tonight was no different. Scarlet had male and female suitors left and right. She batted her eyes and swung her hips, and Yvie saw red. Finally, one woman caught her interest, enough to pull her to the dance floor. Yvie chuckled under her breath; seeing Scarlet dance was always an event. The ability of the younger girl being able to woo men and women with a flick of her wrist, but being unable to even sway to the beat was always something that astounded Yvie.

Scarlet danced as she always had, hesitantly, but with passion. It wasn’t good by any means, but it was passable given their presence in a throng of drunken lunatics. Scarlet made eye contact with Yvie for the second time that night, and gave a seductive smirk at how Yvie’s eyes followed her lips.

The woman in front of Scarlet placed her hands on her hips, and brought the two even closer together. Scarlet let her eyes shut, a bit of her facade slipping away as she leaned into the music. But the final straw was the woman leaning in to kiss those lips that Yvie knew all too well. Yvie was helpless to stop herself at this point. She blew through the crowd and none too gently took Scarlet’s hands in her own and pulled her off the dance floor.

“Yvie, what-“

Scarlet was cut off by Yvie’s mouth firmly planted on her own. She whimpered into the kiss, as Yvie left no room for any other reaction but surrender. It felt like forever and only a minute at the same time. Yvie pulled away, but still had that fierce look in her eye. That look Scarlet recognized as possessiveness.

“Did you bring your car?” Yvie managed to ask in between trailing kisses up and down Scarlet’s neck. The older girl was gasping at the contact; her neck was always incredibly sensitive, and fuck Yvie for going straight for the kill. Yvie’s leg moved to press between Scarlet’s parted legs, eliciting a small gasp.

“I said,” Yvie punctuated her words with an increase in pressure against where Scarlet so desperately needed her, “did you bring your car?”

Scarlet was helpless to stop the whimper at the contact. “Yes.”

The next few moments were a blur as Scarlet grabbed her hand and led her through the maze of people outside into the chilly night air. Well, what Yvie assumed to be chilly, her skin was too hot to process the air around them.

Yvie wasted no time wrapping her hands around Scarlet’s waist and trailing bruising kisses up the side of Scarlet’s neck as the aforementioned girl attempted to unlock the back door. She fumbled with the keys, and they scraped along the car, not that she could care much or focus with Yvie’s lips at her neck and hands snaking their way under her dress.

Finally, fucking finally, she got the key in the door and swung it open, pulling Yvie down on top of her none too gracefully, but neither could bother to care, as their lips made contact once more. Yvie’s hands felt like they were everywhere at once, raking up her sides, pulling at her clothes, and tangling in her hair. Yvie always knew what Scarlet liked, and wasted no time pulling out all her tricks. Digging her nails into Scarlet’s thighs and kissing down her chest, as the older girl lost her mind. Taking Scarlet apart had always been one of Yvie’s favorite pastimes. When they had been together-

Yvie stopped herself, and consequently slowed her ministrations.

The reading like a book went both ways though, and as soon as Scarlet saw the cogs turning in Yvie’s head, she surged up suddenly, trying to flip their positions. She got herself upright enough to sit partially on Yvie’s lap, the younger girl’s hands finding the indents of Scarlet’s hips on reflex. Scarlet pulled Yvie out of her head and into a bruising kiss as she ground down on Yvie’s thigh.

Yvie pulled off her own shirt, and threw it somewhere, anywhere, away.

Twining her hand in Scarlet’s hair and pulling her back suddenly, the moan Scarlet made, she should have been ashamed of. She was panting openly and she waited for Yvie to direct her. Yvie pulled Scarlet’s head to her chest, and the younger girl began tracing her tongue around one of Yvie’s nipples, her hand pinching and rolling the other one. Yvie threw her head back and almost knocked herself out on the door handle. She let Scarlet work at her chest until she felt the older girl grinding down slowly and rhythmically against her thigh, letting out breathy moans and whimpers every few seconds.

Yvie grabbed her hips forcefully this time, bringing her actions to a halt. Scarlet whined high in her throat, and pouted, the sight so hot Yvie almost let her go, but she had a plan. She slotted her thigh more firmly between Scarlet’s legs, and began moving Scarlet down in timed thrusts.

She ghosted her hands along Scarlet’s inner thighs and along the seam of Scarlet’s underwear, causing the older girl to draw in a sharp breath. Yvie didn’t even remember how Scarlet got out of her dress, but with the older girl whimpering needily in her lap, Yvie couldn’t begin to care.

Yvie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as Scarlet grabbed her hand suddenly and shoved it down her underwear. Yvie wasted no time slipping a finger inside her ex, and letting her other hand trail up her side to pull at her hardened nipples. When the older girl got to moaning openly, Yvie added another finger, and it no time at all, another, all the while applying steady pressure to Scarlet’s clit.

Scarlet was dripping down Yvie’s hand and fucking herself back on three fingers before long, making sinful noises against Yvie’s neck. Yvie moved with purpose as she twisted her hand just so, seeking out the spot that never failed to make Scarlet see stars.

Before long Scarlet was clenching around Yvie’s fingers, moans getting higher and higher pitched. Yvie surged up suddenly to capture her mouth as Scarlet came, mouth hanging open against Yvie’s lips.

Scarlet allowed herself a few seconds to bask in the afterglow, before trailing kisses down Yvie’s torso, stopping just above Yvie’s pants. With deft fingers, and most of her brain cells returned, Scarlet made quick work of Yvie’s pants, and even quicker work of her underwear.

A cheeky wink up at Yvie was her only warning before Scarlet dove head first into her task at hand. Taking Scarlet apart had been more than enough fuel for the fire that was Yvie’s arousal, and she knew it wouldn’t take long with Scarlet’s skilled mouth to get her off.

She wasn’t wrong.

The first touch of Scarlet’s tongue sends shockwaves through Yvie’s body. Scarlet moves slowly, but purposefully as she spreads Yvie’s lips, letting her tongue trace languidly around her folds. She teases her clit with the tip of her tongue with every pass.

It takes an embarrassingly short time before Scarlet is smirking up at a still breathless Yvie, coming down from arguably the best orgasm of her life. (But she would never admit that outloud.)

Yvie lit a cigarette. She blew the smoke in the direction of the mirror, but Scarlet coughed anyway. The older girl’s head had found itself tucked neatly under Yvie’s clavicle, Yvie’s tall frame resting against the door, bodies still flush against each other. It was moments like these, where they fit together so perfectly, when they were quiet, peaceful almost, that made Yvie forget why they broke up in the first place.

They had been happy in the beginning. Trading life stories, completely different journeys that got them both to where they were. They told the pretty part of the stories at first, the glamor and the gold. Only later, in the middle did they get to the grit and bronze. They had been content in the middle. Making small life changes to accommodate the other person. It was a steady and slow process, but one they were both eager to take.

It was around the middle of the middle that Scarlet started noticing things. Little things. Nothing big. Nothing important. Just little things. Like how Yvie was loath to do dishes, ever. Or how she rarely took it upon herself to voice her feelings. Or how Yvie got bored easily.

And maybe that’s what set off the end. Scarlet hadn’t voiced her concerns, letting her insecurities eat away at her until she was left with nothing but bone. She wondered, still wonders if they could have made it work.

Yvie had been content for all their relationship. She was ecstatic that she had landed this amazing girl in the first place. Yvie did everything she could to show Scarlet, and it still wasn’t enough. The younger girl let her narcissism and self-doubt cloud her from seeing what was directly in front of her, she couldn’t see that Yvie wasn’t going anywhere.

Yvie supposes she could have done a better job showing it. She would come home late, make a mess, and fall into a dreamless sleep. They would talk in the morning about their respective days. As time went on, Scarlet talked less and less, opting to just listen. And maybe that was supposed to be symbolism for the whole relationship. To be happy with Yvie, or what Scarlet thought was happy, was to change herself, she had to be quiet. Maybe she was right, who knows? And it’s not like any of it matters now, since they, you know, aren’t together.

So why does it feel like they are breaking up all over again when Yvie shuts the car door. And why does Scarlet’s perfume lingering on Yvie’s clothes smell like a whispered “I love you.” And why does Yvie staying on the street corner where Scarlet left feel a bit too on the nose with how they left things.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

jealousy and rooftops

rating: E word count: 3012 one shot

AO3

Frank gets a call from Karen when she gets in a situation where she doesn't feel entirely comfortable and when he gets he discovers Matt, dressed up as Daredevil, already there and Karen watches as something like jealousy sparks in Frank and she gets to feel exactly what Frank's reaction in while on the rooftop.

“It’s okay,” Karen said when Frank appeared out of the shadows on the rooftop where Matt had helped her out. “I’m okay.”

Frank didn’t seem to hear her, walking past her towards where the Daredevil was standing near the edge of the roof. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Karen grabbed his arm before he could get more than a step away from her. “It’s fine, Frank. Leave it alone.”

He didn’t pull out of her grip even though he could have done it easily enough, instead he just pointed an accusatory finger at the man in red. “You were following her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt said from the shadows, his mask still covering his face. “I just happened to be in the area, and I heard Karen-“

“You just happened to be in the area.” Frank scoffed as if he didn’t believe a word of what the other man said, and if Karen was honest, she didn’t quite believe it either. “New York is a fucking big city, Hell’s kitchen has thousands of roof tops, and you just happen to be near the one Karen’s on?”

“You’re going to get mad at me for being here when she needed someone? Where were you, Punisher?” Matt challenged.

“He was at home because I’m not a child who needs to be babysat. He came because I called him,” Karen held up her phone. Frank was her speed dial and the only person on the planet who was allowed to track her phone. “Because I felt like someone was following me. Like I told you, I had it handled.”

Matt held up his hands, as if surrender. “I was just trying to make sure you were okay. You’re my friend, and it looked like you were in trouble. I’m sorry if I pushed where I wasn’t wanted.”

There was something just a little condescending about his tone but Karen couldn’t put her finger on it. “If I need your help Matt, I’ll ask for it.”

He didn’t seem convinced and froze for a moment. Karen wondered what he was doing with those special abilities she still knew so little about, was he listening to her heart to see if she was lying? Was he watching her and Frank through the vibration which gave him a second sight? She didn’t know, and he didn’t say, but eventually he nodded and disappeared into the shadows.

“This entire thing was blown way out of proportion,” Karen explained to Frank who was all but vibrating with something she worried was anger. “I was meeting up with someone for a story and I felt like someone was watching me, that’s when I called you, and my source got suspicious and grabbed my arm. When he wouldn’t let go I reached for my gun, but Matt showed up before I could do anything else. I can’t believe he did that.”

“Fuck that, I can.” Karen eyes went wide as she realized the emotion on Frank’s was, of all things, jealousy. Unable to believe it, and deciding she was done with this rooftop, she turned toward the ladder, preferring to finish this conversation anywhere else. When she put her hands on the curved handles of the ladder she felt Frank just behind her, his entire body caging her in.

“Listen, if I know one thing, I know why Fucking Murdock was here saving you instead of me.”

There was an intensity about him, his stillness at her back, the deepness of his voice, it sent a shiver down her entire body. “You do?”

“You don’t?” he challenged. “Tell me, who was following you?”

“Matt.” She’d already figured out that the Daredevil following her was the reason she’d felt the itch between her shoulder blades. Now the feeling on her back was Frank’s hands as he massaged the muscles along her spine, his thumbs pressing into the knots.

“And you can’t imagine a reason why he would?” he asked, but she didn’t think he actually cared about the answer. “See, me? I know you can take care of yourself, and I appreciate the fact you called me when you didn’t feel safe, but Matt? Your entire relationship with him is built on you being saved by him.”

Karen opened her mouth, not sure what to say to that because he wasn’t wrong; but the very idea left a bad taste in her mouth.

“After all, isn’t that how he got you the first time? He walked into a police interrogation room and saved you.” Frank’s hand smoothed down her hips and legs until he found the hem of her dress and with every sentence pulled it up another inch. “Then he saved you from attackers in your apartment. I think Red thought he could save you again, and if he did, you’d fall for him just like you did the first time. Was he right?”

“No,” she managed to get out, the realization of what was about to happen becoming all too real. While she had never done anything like this before, she couldn’t help but get turned on by the possessiveness in his voice.

“He would have heard you dial me,” Frank told her, his voice speaking directly into her ear as his hands covered the bare skin of her thighs, fingers tightening. “He would have heard my voice on the other end of the line.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that if she could feel his presence, it meant he was close to hear everything she did. “I didn’t think of that.”

“He knew I was coming but he wanted to be the one to save you anyway.”

“That’s ridiculous,” and absolutely true. She wondered if that was the source of Frank’s jealousy, of the possessiveness in his hands. If it was the reason why here, on the rooftop in the dark, he was tracing his fingers along the inside of her thigh. “But I made my choice, Frank. I called you.”

“It was a good call,” he assured her, his voice hard as he palmed her mound, his middle finger pressing into her slit through the cotton of her thong.

They’d been together only a few weeks but Karen was beginning to learn Frank’s mood, including his sexual ones.

Or at least she thought she had.

She would never have guessed Frank was the kind of guy who would be interested in sex on a rooftop in the middle of the night, but the hardness of his erection against her seemed to indicate otherwise.

He moved the fabric of her underwear aside, his touch featherlight and a terrible tease. She gripped the metal hard enough she could feel the indent of it against her palms as he asked, “You weren’t the least bit relieved when you saw him?”

“No,” she answered emphatically. “I wanted it to be you.”

“You could try not getting into trouble in the first place,” he suggested, and she could feel the pads of his fingers separating her lips, opening her to the open air and the sudden change in sensation was a shock.

“You want me to stay home?” she asked as she shifted her legs to give him better access. “Is that it?”

He chuckled and starting playing with her, fingertips becoming slick with her arousal before pressing in slow circles against her clit. He was torturing her and she couldn’t find it in her to make him stop. Instead, she wanted more.

“No,” he pressed what could almost be called an affectionate kiss to her hair. “Just reminding you it’s an option.”

Karen laughed, the sound a little breathless as his finger picked up speed, driving her quick and hard towards her first orgasm.

Almost, but not quite.

When she whimpered he nipped gently at the bare skin on shoulder. “If you want me stop, you just say the word and I stop.”

“I know Frank,” but she loved that he checked in with her because even though they’d survived death together, yelled at each other, saved each other, they still didn’t know everything about one another. He wasn’t sure if she was okay with semi-public sex where anyone could see them but when it came down to it there was only one thing that mattered, “I trust you.”

He continued to play with her clit, his hand brushing her hair aside to give him access to her neck and shoulder. As he fingered her below, he kissed her neck, sharp little nibbles and long strokes of his tongue eventually causing her to cry out as the pleasure built. “Do you think he’s still close? Do you think he’s listening to you get fondled, about to be fucked from behind by the most wanted man in New York City?”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t have even if she wanted to.

He pressed against her and she could feel the hardness of his erection against her ass. “If he’s going to listen, don’t you think we ought to give him something good to hear? It’s too bad we’re outside, I’d love to get you naked right about now.”

She wished she was naked too, wished she could feel Frank’s hands on her skin, but she wasn’t quite brazen enough to strip down naked on a rooftop.

The fact she was about to fuck Frank was unbelievable enough.

“Put your hands on the wall, Karen.”

Karen leaned forward and pressed her hands on to the stone of the roof’s four foot wall, trusting Frank to keep her safe.

Behind her, she could hear the metal sound of his zipper being pulled down and the anticipation was almost more than she could handle. But she didn’t feel him, not the head of her entrance, nor the pressure of him sliding into her.

She flexed her hand on the stone. The abrasive texture of the stone bit into her skin, but it was a welcome feeling, something to ground her while her mind went fuzzy with desire. “Frank?”

“So needy,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you. I was just putting on a condom.”

“You had a condom in your wallet?” she asked, a breathless laugh escaping her.

“I always want to fuck you, Karen,” he told her darkly. “So I figured it would be smart to keep something on hand in case an opportunity presented himself. And here it is, you wet and bent over and ready for me.”

And then suddenly he was inside, buried deep and completely inside her, and before she could stop herself she nearly screamed his name at the whirlwind of sensation, biting her lip to keep the noise inside her throat.

His mouth was against her ear, keeping his voice a husky whisper. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget you ever met that sanctimonious asshole. You’re going to forget anything exists except for me.”

She believed him, she was already forgetting her name and most of the words in the English language. The only ones she could remember now were ‘Frank’ and ‘More.’

“You feel so good around my cock,” he told her as he began to move against her. “I always expect this to be ordinary, one of these days it’s going to stop feeling so fucking earth shattering.”

She couldn’t help but agree as he pulled almost completely out before sliding right back inside her, an erotic sensation that made her a little desperate for more. She leaned back into him, trying to meet him halfway. “Fuck yes, Karen. What do you need? What do you want?”

“More,” she got out, because it was hard to say everything she wanted. She wanted his hands on her breasts, his mouth everywhere, and then he lifted her slightly and the head of his cock brushed against the spot within that intensified everything.

“There,” she told him, grabbing his hand putting it back between her legs. “More.”

Taking her instructions to heart Frank started playing with her clit as he moved within her again, hitting that same spot until she could feel the orgasm climbing with alarming frequency. She met him thrust for thrust, bracing herself on the stone, pressing back against him.

Karen pressed her lips together, whimpers and groan echoing from her throat as Frank made deep sounds above and behind her.

“You want to cry out?” Frank asked and she nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth for even a ‘yes’. “Do it,” he dared her. “Let the whole fucking city hear how good I make you feel.”

One hand wrapped around her waist to keep her close and steady against him as he drove into her again and again, and she couldn’t hold back those sounds of pleasure. She’d never felt more confident or sexy. When he bit the curve of her neck she cried out with the orgasm that rocketed through her, the sound hardly loud enough too carry far but there were at least a dozen New Yorkers who would have heard her and somehow that made it all the sexier.

Behind her, inside her, she knew Frank was close as he pumped quick, his strokes becoming shorter as he came to his own climax. His arms tightened around her almost painfully and even he couldn’t completely hold back the enjoyment he got from being inside her.

His arm relaxed around her and she reached for the ladder again, this time using it to keep her upright. “You know what,” she said between heaving breaths. “I never pegged you for the jealous type.”

“You know what, me neither.” After a couple of breaths he pulled out and Karen turned around in time to see him pull off the condom and toss it into a trash can that was more than likely used for discarded cigarettes. “Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”

“Sex in public?” Karen asked as she turned to leaned against the wall, not trusting herself to stay standing. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Frank walked towards his, face serious as he wrapped his arms around her and Karen naturally returned the embrace. “You okay?”

She rested her head on his chest, her favorite place in the entire world was wrapped up in Frank’s arms with the sturdiness of his chest beneath her cheek. “I just got two orgasms on a rooftop by an extremely hot guy, I’m good.”

“Karen.”

She smiled because he was so caring; the man everyone thought was heartless and cruel had an infinite amount of compassion and empathy. He’d checked in with her during but even now, while she was blissed out and loose limbed, he wanted to make sure she was okay.

“I’m great,” she told him sincerely, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m great because I knew you’d come when I called you. I’m great because you stood up for me with Matt. I’m great because you just blew my mind. But there is one thing.”

“What?” he asked, obviously concerned.

“I’m really, really hungry.”

He sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Okay, let’s grab something on the way home. But first…”

Frank leaned forward and kissed her gently, his hand reaching up to her frame her face, adjusting the angle. It wasn’t wild passion, or desperate lust, but the lovely warmth of affection.

“This is the problem with that particular position,” he said as if he needed to explain why he was kissing her. “I don’t get to kiss you.”

Karen gripped the lapels of the his jacket, liked the feel of physically holding onto him. “You like kissing me, Frank Castle?”

“It’s all right,” he teased, kissing her again. “Don’t mind kissing you on rooftops, never got a chance to do that before.”

Karen thought about it. “We’ve never been on a rooftop together.”

He looked like she hit him on the head with something hard. “That can’t be true.”

She thought about their history, the thing they’d done and survived with each other. “We do a lot of basements and cars,” she thought out loud. Rooftops were Matt’s, she liked that she and Frank had their own personal connections to different places.

“And hospitals,” he pointed out and she laughed.

“I hope you’re not talking about the time you shot at me.”

He huffed out a laugh. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times, I wasn’t shooting at you.”

“Just the guy next to me.”

He put his hands on her hips and turned her to face the ladder. “I thought you were hungry.”

Karen laughed at the pivot in conversation. “I am, but I’m this argument isn’t over.”

“I’m not surprised,” he remarked dryly as she climbed down the ladder to the fire escapes below. Frank followed, not bothering with stealth as he clambered down after her. They hit the street and Frank tilted her chin a little. “I think I might have given a hickey.”

She slapped her hand over her neck. “Frank.”

He grinned but didn’t look partly abashed at her scold. “Got a little carried away, sorry.”

Karen leaned forward and kissed him, “Remember. Fair is fair, you give me a hickey, I give you one.”

Frank rolled his eyes and threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her against him. “What are you in the mood to eat?”

“Something greasy,” she decided and felt that itch between her shoulders again, like someone was watching her. Karen ignored it and soaked in the feeling of Frank holding her while they walked aimlessly.

They still had to be careful, most people still thought Frank Castle was an escaped convict, but in the anonymity of New York streets they were mostly safely. Cops and Feds were the main things to avoid.

“Burgers?” he suggested, squeezing her shoulder once and she knew that he had realized the same thing as she had.

Matt was watching.

“Burgers are perfect,” she answered and left Matt in the shadows of the rooftops as they walked through the brightly lit sidewalks of New York.

Together.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 22

Midway through my Chicken Ambrosia the adrenaline high wore off, and I hastily excused myself in order to rush headlong to the ladies room as panic set in. I locked the door behind me and sank slowly to the floor, not giving a single thought as to its cleanliness. The shakes began, my entire body shuddering and quivering, ears ringing and vision blurring. Images of Will cycled through my mind’s eye, like a poorly coded website slideshow that shifted too quickly and transitioned awkwardly, harshly jerking from one photo to the next. Scenes from when we were together, snapshots of the altercation at the viewing. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop them, couldn’t turn them off. Eyes open or closed, there they were.

Doubt overwhelmed me, about what I’d done tonight, and before. About how this would affect Tom once the media latched onto any of it. More than anything else, I felt ashamed. Ashamed of what a shambles I’d allowed my life to become back then, ashamed that I’d never had the balls to face up to it until now, ashamed that my choice of partner had been so abysmal.  

Memories of our intimacies surfaced, causing me to feel desecrated and profane. Though short in stature, Will had been attractive when we met, exotic, with a borderline androgyny many men proudly displayed in the late nineties. The beauty that appeared on the outside, unfortunately, was not an accurate depiction of what lay on the inside. Perhaps I’d been too shallow to smell the rotten underneath the surface, or just too damaged. Or too drunk. A composite of all three, maybe. And for the love of all things holy, as well as all things not, how hadn’t I noticed how thoroughly and consummately unintelligent he was?

None of that mattered, I supposed, because if he decided to take any of this to the press, the only thing the public would be presented with was a very carefully selected unflattering video or photograph of the man, with a caption that went something like ‘Tom Hiddleston’s girlfriend, Maude Gallagher, assaults former husband, Will Bonaventura, at mother’s wake’. I could only hope that his lack of wit would prevent him from considering such a thing as a means of vengeance, but such hope was almost certainly false, as he’d always been clever enough to take advantage of anyone and anything that crossed his path if he deemed it beneficial to him in some way.

“Maude, for a smart woman, you sure manage to do some seriously dumb shit. What the fuck were you thinking? Goddess, my ass. More like village idiot.”

There was a knock at the door, and I was about to yell ‘occupied, be out in a minute’ when I heard Tom’s voice, muted but strong, on the other side.

“Maude? Everything okay?”

It wasn’t, but I didn’t think it appropriate to shout out that I was fucked up and in need of a cocktail, so I dragged myself off the tile, stood and unlocked the door. Upon opening it the noise of the band hit me full force my brain’s response was ‘Maude, we need to get the fuck OUT of New Orleans RIGHT NOW’.

Tom’s expression shifted from mildly concerned to genuinely worried upon seeing me, and he gently walked me backward as he pushed his way into the room. Hands on my shoulders, he bent and met my gaze directly, speaking softly.

“What’s wrong, love?”

My eyes squeezed shut as I shook my head, back and forth, back and forth, like a metronome. He leaned into me, body warm against mine.

“Maude, talk to me. Let me help.”

A sigh escaped me as I opened my eyes and found his face inches from mine, his breath on my lips.

“I fucked up, Tom. Royally. Like, really, really seriously fucked up.”

His head tilted to the left, a hand reaching up to smooth my hair back from my forehead. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

I laughed, a hollow, near-maniacal sound. “I can’t believe it myself, but I did so nonetheless. What I did was so, so stupid. Universally stupid. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but ME. So, so selfish. And STUPID.”

Frowning, he leaned back so his weight was no longer on me, then rested his hands on my hips. “You are not stupid. Or selfish.”

Shaking my head again, I threw my hands up in the air at shoulder level. “Oh, but I am. What happened with Will. Epic mistake. Beyond epic. I didn’t stop to think about the consequences of my actions. Me. ME! Miss social media and PR expert. I didn’t, not for one single fucking second, stop to consider what effect my assaulting him could have on YOU, Tom. We go public with our relationship yesterday, so we’re totally on the radar, and then I proceed to punch my ex-husband in the face and knee him in the balls. In public. With YOU THERE. If he goes to the press with this…my GOD. You have an impeccable, scandal-free reputation, and I may have ruined it in the space of twenty minutes. Christ, what the fuck am I going to tell LUKE? He should fucking fire me…how will this make HIM look? Fucking hell!”

“Maude.”

“What? Even if he leaves out the assault part…BOOM, it’s public knowledge that I’ve been married before, and to whom, plus the rest will all just come out with it, or shortly thereafter. Because I just HAD to shoot off my big fucking mouth to settle a nearly decades old score with someone who means NOTHING to me. Pointless. Stupid. I’ve failed you completely, on a professional AND personal level.”

“MAUDE.”

“WHAT?!” Realizing I’d raised my voice to an unacceptable level for a public restroom, I cringed. “Shit. Let’s try…what?”

“Step back from this. View it as if we’re both your clients and you’re completely outside of it all.”

“But I’m not.”

Both of Tom’s eyebrows rose as he took my hands in his, but he remained silent.

“Okay. Fine. Poof…I’m an outside observer.”

“Now, what advice do you have for us? If we leave this restaurant, or if we arrive at the funeral tomorrow, and the place is crawling with reporters…what do we do?”

“I…Maude…answers their questions. She needs to be truthful. She might want to consider presenting an abridged version of her story. How old she was when she married him, under what circumstances, and that she found out he was cheating on her with her mother and then filed for divorce. That he married her mother as soon as it was final. No need to mention more than that unless pressed. If the assault comes up, she should say punching him was out of line, but that kicking him in the balls was self-defense because he lunged at her. Maybe blame the punch on grieving and stress. You should…”

He interrupted me. “I’ll stand with you, hold your hand, and be honest, no matter what I’m asked.”

I shook my head. “I was going to say you should just remain in the background, actually. Or not be there at all.”

“Not happening.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to hold back the thoughts I’d decided to keep to myself, to no avail. “Thomas. As much as I appreciate your wanting to be supportive, let’s be real…part of you has to be embarrassed, if not downright disgusted, by the fact that I was married to that man. As well as re-evaluating my so-called intelligence, and perhaps my sanity, because I willingly chose such a partner. God knows I am. Though in my defense, I was drunk for essentially the entire duration of our relationship.”

The laughter began in his chest, slowly working its way upward, finally bursting forth from the mouth he’d been fighting desperately to keep closed. My eyes narrowed as a frown contorted my features.

“Maude. Good Christ. I’m sorry, it’s not really funny, but…” He inhaled sharply through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth as he attempted to contain himself, his expression turning earnest. “Maude. Are you embarrassed or disgusted by MY poor choice of previous partners? Not exactly cream of the crop, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“No. Of course I’m not. I’d like to dispatch them without prejudice, but disgusted? No. Not with you, anyway. And as far as embarrassment…they should be the ones who feel that way because of their behavior.”

He rested his forehead on mine, leaning against me once more. “Well, there you go. That’s precisely how I feel as well.”

“Good. But you should know that that I’m disgusted with myself over it. And I’m not just embarrassed…I’m MORTIFIED. I mean I slept…”

His lips on mine interrupted me, warm and wet, his mouth tasting of fennel and wine. He’d hesitated when it was offered, but accepted a glass when I squeezed his thigh under the table, only taking a few sips when Barty proposed a toast, then a few more with dinner. I pulled my hands from his, reaching behind him to grab his ass and propel his pelvis forward. The whine that escaped him was exquisite, and I felt him fully harden against me.

Breaking the kiss, I whispered in his ear. “What’s the matter? Hand job in the car not enough to tide you over until after dinner?”

He answered, the sound somewhere between a growl and a broken moan. “Noooo.”

My tongue traced the shell of his ear, then in behind it, stopping to lave at the spot behind his earlobe that would inevitably make him squirm. “Would you like to fuck me, Thomas? Right here? Right now?”

His hands rolled my dress above my waist, panties absent, having been previously sacrificed to clean us up in the car. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and slipped them down over his hips, resting my hands there, thumbs on the indentations just below his belly button. He grabbed my left leg at the knee and lifted, weight pressing me against the brick wall as I wrapped it around his waist and he entered me, sinking in to the hilt as he began to thrust urgently.

“Your hand on me was thrilling, Maude, but nothing, NOTHING can compare to your pussy. Being inside you. So hot. So wet. Clamping down on me…”

I squeezed, and his words morphed into a long, low moan that I smothered with my lips, sucking his tongue into my mouth. His movements grew rougher as he pounded into me, grunting like an animal, and I came, walls clenching around him, trying my damnedest to be quiet. He buried his face in my neck to muffle his own cries, hands cupping my ass and clasping me to him.

We remained still for several moments until his chuckling tickled my neck, and when I began to fidget he raised his head to meet my gaze. “You weren’t kidding about the heels making it easier to fuck you standing up.”

There was a knock on the door, and, frankly, I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. I grabbed some toilet paper, mopped up what I could, then pulled my dress down. Tom zipped himself up and began washing his hands. When the knocking sounded again, this time firmer, I replied loudly.

“Sorry, be right out!”

There was no answer, and as I washed my hands and began drying them, Tom unlocked the door and opened it. I peered past him to see a startled young woman, skin the color of mocha, eyes a glowing amber, with black, spectacularly curly hair reaching her shoulders, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

His face wasn’t visible to me, but I knew the megawatt smile was firmly in place.

“Terribly sorry for the delay. My girlfriend wasn’t feeling very well, I’m afraid.”

She gave him some serious side eye as I peeked over his shoulder. “Yep. I feel much better now, though.”

She laughed, a deep, rich, melodic sound, then looked Tom up and down. “Oh honey, I’m damn sure you do.”

We exited with as much dignity as we could muster, and the woman was still laughing as the door closed behind her. On our walk back to the table, Tom snuck in a slap to my left ass cheek just as my right foot was about to land on the floor. It knocked me off balance, and the heel of my right shoe hit the tile at the wrong angle, slipping out from under me and turning my ankle in the process. Down I went, like a sack of potatoes right in the middle of the restaurant, just a few feet from where Anne and Barty were sitting. Tom was squatting at my side in an instant, panic in his eyes. My first thought was ‘fuck, I hope my cooter isn’t hanging out’, but it was quickly replaced with ‘fucking ow ow ow OWWWWW’ when I shifted and my right ankle moved, sending white-hot, searing pain shooting through me.

Tom ran his right hand through his hair, then leaned in to examine me more closely as he got on his knees. “I’m a fucking IDIOT. Are you all right? Fuck. What am I saying?! I know you’re not all right…I saw your face just then when you moved your foot. Is it broken? Oh my god, I am so, so, so sorry…” He’d begun to tear up as he reached in his pocket for his phone. “Do you need an ambulance? Let me call for help.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Hiddleston, don’t you DARE dial 911. There is no way I’m leaving here on a stretcher. Take off both my shoes and help me up. Please.”

His bottom jaw moved to the right, eyes still on mine, color drained from his face. “You’re hurt, and we don’t know how badly. You shouldn’t do anything without obtaining the opinion of a medical professional first.” Lowering his chin to his chest, he continued to berate himself, mumbling about how stupid he was, that he’d acted like an overgrown thirteen year old and now look what he’d done. I could see his pulse pounding in his neck, and the rapidness of his respirations began to worry me…I was all too familiar with the symptoms of an anxiety attack, that was for fucking sure.

My hand left his wrist and settled on his chest, over his heart. “Tom. It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just a sprained ankle. Not my first one, either. It’s okay. You’re okay. I love you. Breathe, baby. Breathe. Nice and slow.” I watched him inhale through his nose and exhale via his mouth several times. “That’s it. There you go. Everything’s fine.”

A few nearby tables were staring, and Anne and Barty had made their way over to us. I held my other hand up and proceeded to address the nearby onlookers from my spot on the floor, nearly shouting to be heard over the band.

“Apologies for the disruption. Sprained my ankle. Everything’s cool. High heels are NOT my thing. Party on, folks.” There were shrugs, raised glasses and a few verbal well wishes as everyone went about their business.

Anne pointed at my ankle. “That’s already swelling, kiddo. Looks like you’re going to need a trip to the ER.”

Tom had placed his hand over mine, and when I glanced back at him I observed that most of his color had come back. I made a half-hearted attempt at taking off my own shoe, but he sprang into action and removed the one from my good ankle first, then set about doing the same for the injured one. I winced at his touch, and he cringed.

“Yank it right off, dude. Fast. Please.”

He nodded, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from screeching like a banshee as he pulled it over my heel and off my foot. When I caught sight of his crestfallen face, I prodded it with my tongue and tasted blood. Barty brought over a chair.

“Here ya go, son. I’ll help you get her up, all right?”

Tom shook his head. “Thanks, Barty, but we’ll be fine.” With that, he positioned himself on my right side, squatting again. “What’s the way to do this so it will hurt the least, love?”  

“Stand above me, in front of me, and lift me up by my armpits? I’ll use my left leg for support. It might not hurt less, but at least my dress will stay…down.”

It was a challenge, but we pulled it off in one try, and he lowered me to the chair as if I was a fragile piece of china. Kneeling in front of me, hands on my thighs, he smiled gently. “I’m going to go and bring the car round to the front entrance, okay?” I nodded, and he stood, kissing my forehead along the way.

“I’ll be right back.” A mischievous smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

My eyes rolled back into my head. “Well, I had been contemplating a nice long run, but…”

Anne brought some ice from the bar and tried to get me to put my leg up on another chair, but I refused. The ankle felt fine just as it was, mainly because I was holding my leg so my foot remained suspended an inch above the floor, and I knew if I moved even one iota that would change in a most unpleasant way. Tom was back in three minutes flat, gracefully navigating his way through the tables toward me. He stood to my left, bent over halfway, slipped his left arm under my knees and the other around my upper back, hand in my armpit.

“Arms around my neck, please.”

“Ummmm…are you planning on carrying me out of here?”

There was no reply, only the sensation of him beginning to lift me. I rolled my eyes again as I wound my arms around his neck. Anne and Barty went out ahead of us to assist with the doors, and the entire restaurant stared as Tom carried me through the building and out the front, and there were smatterings of applause and several whistles.

When we reached the car he set me down so my back was towards the door opening. Balancing on my left leg and using my arms to slow my descent, I managed to sit down and twist to the side, but my injured ankle remained up in the air and outside the vehicle. Tom bent my right leg at the knee, eased the car seat back as far as it could go, then worked my leg slowly into place. When my foot touched the floor I grabbed the sides of the seat, muttering ‘fuck me’ as I held it up again, and Tom ran back into the building.

Anne leaned down, passed me my bag and heels, then stuck her head inside. “Maude, honey…that man is a keeper if I ever saw one. You know that already, though, don’t you?”

“I do.”

She smiled. “Good. The way the two of you look at each other…it makes me want to write romance novels.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You already write romance novels. Granted, the romances are often dark, disturbed, misplaced, unrequited and thoroughly inappropriate…but still. It’s romance.”

Her mouth opened to comment, then closed without saying a word as Tom returned, several small, white towels in hand. He grinned.

“From the kitchen. Only cost me one selfie.” He placed them on the floor in a pile, fluffed them up, and I set my foot down gingerly. The pain was tolerable.

“Nicely done, Hiddleston. Thank you.”

He kissed my briefly, buckled my seatbelt and closed my door. As soon as he got in the driver’s seat and started the car, I opened my window to say goodbye to Anne, then Barty, whom I advised that I’d decided to have him handle all the mortgage bullshit in my absence, as well as any other crap that might come up. He said handling shit was his specialty, laughing as we pulled away.

**************************************** Tulane Medical Center was the closest emergency facility, located approximately 2 miles from Palm Court. Tom wanted to carry me in, but I sent him along on his own to find a staff member to bring out a wheelchair for me instead. Getting out of the car sucked balls, but being pushed around was oddly relaxing. Registration was first, and there wasn’t anyone else waiting, which I took as a good indication that we might be out of there before tomorrow morning. Then came the vitals check, and I could tell that the attending nurse recognized Tom, mainly from the way her hands shook when she took my blood pressure, periodically sneaking looks in his direction and clearing her throat. She escorted us to an exam room that more resembled a pastel holding cell, where we were instructed to wait for further assistance after I hefted myself onto the exam bed. Another nurse appeared immediately, early forties, short, blonde and plump, dressed in light pink scrubs with hearts on them. Her voice was entirely too cheerful, whipping the rainbow sorbet colored curtain shut behind her but leaving the stainless and glass sliding door open.

“How we all doin’ tonight? I’m Sharon. I just have a few questions for you, and Dr. Luthra will be along shortly, all right?”

I nodded. “Hi, Sharon. I’m Maude, and this is Tom.” He was seated in a chair across the room. As I pointed in his direction I noticed that he’d removed his tie and undone the first three buttons of his shirt. I bit my lip, and it stung as the cut there reopened.

Sharon smiled widely. “Nice to meet you both.” Her eyes moved to the chart in her hand, then back up to my face. “So, took a spill, did you?”

“Oh yeah. Three inch heels. Lost my balance. Fell in front of the packed to capacity crowd at the Palm Court Café. Though I think my ankle hurts worse than my pride, for the moment.”

She patted my shoulder. “You poor thing. The tortures we endure to make ourselves pretty!” Her head shook back and forth, and she walked to the foot of my bed to examine my injury.

“Hoo boy, that is swollen. Lie back, please.” She lowered the head of the bed until it was flat, then raised the foot as high as it could go. “I know that feels odd, but keeping the ankle above the heart will reduce the swelling. Dr. Luthra’s going to want an X-ray for sure. Now, how would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

“Right now, it’s a five. But when I put weight on it or move it around it’s an eight.”

Sharon marked her chart and nodded. “Currently taking any medications?”

“Yes. Birth control pills. Ortho Tri-Cyclen. I skip the placebos to suppress menstruation. Approved by my gynecologist.”

She frowned slightly, marking the chart again. I sighed, silently bemoaning how disappointing it was that women still got all fucking judgy about such things. Periods suck, and when you’re on the road all the time, they suck even harder. Why not make them go away? And why care about what I do? It’s my body, after all.  “Any allergies to medications?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The smile had returned to her face, though now I knew that her jovialness was mostly an act. “That’s all for now. The doctor will be in as soon as he’s able.”

Tom got up and dragged the chair he’d been sitting in over to my bedside, turned so he could face me. I held out my hand.

“Hiya.”

He grasped it and squeezed gently. “Hello.” Lips brushed my knuckles. “Maude, I…”

The index finger of my other hand wagged at him. “If you’re going to apologize again, don’t. Shit happens. I could have just as easily wound up this way all on my own.”

The right corner of his mouth curled up in a tiny smile. “Okay. How about I thank you instead?”

“Umm, sure…for what, exactly?”

“It’s my fault you’re injured, and there you were, sprawled on the floor, hurting, and I just…lost it, I suppose. You knew exactly what to say, though. I felt better instantly, calm, ready to do what needed to be done. So thank you for that. I only wish I could alleviate your pain in a similar fashion.”

“You’re welcome. Anxiety and I go WAY back. I know how to shut that bitch down…”

At that moment, Dr. Luthra knocked on the outside of the room’s glass and entered. If I had to guess, he was barely my age. His hair was jet black, eyes a chocolate brown, and sported a neatly trimmed mustache.

“Miss Gallagher, I am Dr. Luthra. It is my understanding that you’ve injured your ankle. How is your pain?” I was unable to discern whether his accent was Indian or Pakistani, but it didn’t matter…it was beautiful, precise and somehow calming. Accents had always fascinated me…the same word, spoken in a completely different way, yet meaning the same thing. To me, they transformed language into music, and our whole world into an orchestra of verbalized thoughts.

“That’s correct. My pain is…eh.”

Dr. Luthra laughed. “Would you like something for it? We prefer to use non-narcotic…”

I interjected. “That’s fine by me. I prefer to not take them.”

He laughed again. “Oh, a tough cookie, are you? I’ll have the nurse come in with some Tramadol before you go, then. It will ease the pain and reduce swelling, which is very important, but normally has no effect on mental acuity. After tonight the maximum dose of ibuprofen should probably do the trick. Have you consumed any alcohol today?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Now, let me take a look at that ankle, okay?”

I nodded. Tom let go of my hand, got up from his chair and began to move it, trying to avoid being in the doctor’s way.

Dr. Luthra motioned him back down. “No, no, you’re fine there. Keep holding her hand. She’ll need to grab onto something, I’m thinking. I’m going to have to rotate the joint and push and prod to gauge the level of sprain, and then we’ll do an X-ray to be sure nothing is broken. If that is the case, I’ll then apply an aircast walking boot. Crutches may or may not be needed…we won’t know until we put on the boot.”

My hand flew up in the air as if I was in a classroom. “I’d like to apologize in advance for the long list of profanities that will soon be assaulting your ears, Dr. Luthra.”

“Thank you, Miss Gallagher. I appreciate the warning, and am hoping I hear something entirely new to me.”

Tom chortled. “There’s a very strong possibility that you will, Dr. Luthra.”

Three hours and a surprisingly minimal amount of swearing later, I was booted, on crutches and ready to get the fuck out of there. The diagnosis was either a first or second degree sprain…the only way to tell for sure was an MRI, which I refused. The boot would need to stay on everywhere but in the shower for at least seven days after wearing it for the first twenty-four hours straight, and whenever I was on my feet for another seven after that. If it didn’t seem to be healing by that point, I’d need to see an orthopedist and perhaps undergo physical therapy. Which sounded like a boatload of fun for my first two weeks in England. The nurse who assisted with the boot noticed that I had no shoes and brought me a surgical sock to wear so I wouldn’t have to wander around barefoot. I’d been on crutches the last time I’d sprained it, back in high school, and back then there was no boot, only an ace bandage wrap. The boot was pretty funky, black plastic with an air splint inside. I could almost put my full weight on it, but Dr. Luthra figured that was because of the Tramadol and instructed me to use the crutches anyway. Tom had paid close attention as to how to remove it, put it back on, and re-inflate the air bags because, despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to, the Tramadol had made me more than a little loopy and my attention span was close to nil.

On the way to the car I yelled ‘whee’ every time my body swung between the crutches, which Tom graciously ignored, though he did load me into the vehicle and shut the door rather quickly. I whipped out my iPod and plugged it into the auxiliary jack, then turned to him as soon as he sat in the driver’s seat, giggling madly as he started the car.

“Tommy, do you know what time it is?”

“Oh, Tommy, am I? Yes, my love. I know what time it is. It’s approximately eleven twenty-seven. PM. Like it says there on the dashboard. ” He pointed at the lit-up digital clock.

I swiped at his arm, fingers barely brushing it. “No, no. Not THAT kind of time. THIS kind of time.” I cranked up the stereo volume and pressed play on my iPod. “It��s SKRILLEX time!”

The eleven minutes it took to get back to the hotel were probably some of the longest of his life, but he did seem to enjoy Ease My Mind and Breakin’ a Sweat. Kyoto, not so much. He even asked me nicely to skip it. Which I refused to do.

We took the elevator to our room, and I wound up requiring his assistance while changing clothes after getting my dress stuck on my head. After he wrangled me into a T-shirt and some underwear, I flopped on the bed and sang my favorite parts of Closer by Nine Inch Nails at the top of my lungs. He’d quickly stripped naked and slipped into his running shorts, but the T-shirt he’d intended to put on hung limp in his hand once I reached the chorus.

You can have my isolation You can have the hate that it brings You can have my absence of faith You can have my everything

Help me Tear down my reason Help me It’s your sex I can smell Help me You make me perfect Help me become somebody else

I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god

Though it was a challenge, I managed to focus in on his face after he let the breath he’d been holding out in a loud whoosh, the sound stilling my voice. His eyes were closed, cock tenting his shorts, hand around the T-shirt now gripping it so firmly his knuckles were white. I stared, my eyes roaming all over his body, admiring his taut stomach, the curve of his chest, the freckles that peppered his skin. The bed creaked as I began to push myself off of it to go him, and his eyes flew open at the sound. At first, they were almost frighteningly dark with desire, but then he blinked several times, breathing deeply, and the next time our gazes locked they’d returned to normal.

He closed the distance between us and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down on the bed. His voice was unevenly modulated, betraying the war waging within him. “You, my love, need to rest that ankle. I’m going to get some additional pillows from the loft bed, and then I’ll read to you, if you like.”

The reduced processing speed of my mind was astonishing. He’d brought back the pillows and situated me on the bed, lying me down with my leg propped up so it was above my heart, before I was able to formulate an answer.

“Yes. I’d like. Read to me.”

He settled in by my side, Interview with the Vampire in his hand, kissed me softly and began.

**************************************** It was Tom’s voice that had soothed me to sleep, and it was his voice again that awakened me. But this time, there was nothing at all soothing about it. As the fog of dreams slowly lifted, I realized he was on the phone.

“Mum. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call, and I’m sorry I didn’t mention any of this to you. I was planning on bringing her to meet you in person after we got to London. I honestly don’t see…” A pause, then he spoke again, volume raised and obviously agitated. “That isn’t anyone’s business but ours, now, is it? And you’re divorced yourself…why would it matter to you in the slightest that she’s been married before?” Minutes of silence. “Oh, come on. She’s doesn’t need a dime from me, Mum. She’s got her own career, and her own money.” A long pause, his tone softening when the conversation resumed. “Listen, I appreciate that you care about me and want what’s best for me. So much. Yes, it’s sudden. Yes, it’s all happening incredibly fast. Yes, I do tend to jump headlong into things. I know that. But Mum…this is different. She’s different. This is it. Maude is…she’s…she’s the part of me that I’ve been missing all my life. The other half of my soul.” He’d gotten up from the desk chair, which he’d moved across the room. “No, I’m not overly romanticizing anything. That’s how I feel. And so does she, for which I am thankful beyond words. I can’t believe we’re having a row about this…it’s terrible. Trust my judgement, Mum, and don’t pass yours on her until you’ve had the opportunity to know her. That’s all I ask. Because this is the real deal. I’m asking her to move in with me, and I’m reasonably certain her answer won’t be no.” More silence. I shifted on the bed, and the damn thing creaked yet again. “Mum, I’ve got to go. Again, I’m very sorry you found out that I have a woman in my life because Emma saw it online. I love you. Talk to you soon.”

He hit the end call button, walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. “Good morning, gorgeous. How’s your ankle?”

I sat up, leaning back on my hands for support. “Hurts like hell. So…anything you’d like to tell me?”

Tom sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing I’d like to tell you. But things I should tell you? Yes. How much of that did you hear?”

“Entirely too much.”

He bit his lip. “Okay, then. So, actually, there’s one thing I would like to tell you. Well, ask you, really. I was going to wait until we got to New York, but…I…erm…will…fuck, this is terrifying…no, no, not what…it’s… even though I think I know, what if you don’t…that’s what’s terrifying…”

“Thomas, are you attempting to ask me if I’d like for us to live together?”

His head lolled back, eyes closed. “Yes, thank you. Yes I am.”

“Allrighty then. Yes, I would.  We pretty much already are, aren’t we? I said ‘live together’ because ‘move in’ seems weird since we’re both away from home so often, but the particulars don’t really matter. All I know is that wherever you are, I want to wake up next to you whenever possible.”

He began to pull me onto his lap, but stopped when I winced and settled for embracing me instead. “I love you, woman. Thank you. Yes, we already are…I guess I just needed to say the words. I agree, particulars don’t matter. We’ll work that out as we go. Maybe we should look for a new flat, at least in London, something we pick out together? How much stuff do you have?”

I laughed. “Books. I have lots of books. Other than that, not much. My apartment is fucking TINY. So. Anyway. Care to fill me in on how your mother, who obviously hates me already, discovered that I’m a divorcee?”

“Oh. Right. That. I’ve been on the phone all morning…I’m surprised you slept as long as you did. First with Luke. Then my sister Emma, then Luke again, and then Mum. And I’m sorry about her behavior. Once you meet, everything will make sense to her. I’m sure of it.”

A yawn contorted my face, arms stretching way up above my head. I glanced at the clock, figuring it was much too early for Luke to be up, but it read eleven AM. “Shit, it’s that late? Good lord. Oh, sorry. Carry on, Thomas.”

“Luke was up because their flight leaves at eight. And it’s five PM in London now. Anyway, it appears that nearly every publicly available detail about your life has made its way to Tumblr, as well as every other corner of the internet. With no involvement whatsoever from Will, as it would appear.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the crutches from the floor next to it. “Well. Band-Aid right off indeed, I guess. I have to pee. Would you mind getting my laptop out and putting it on the bed for me?”

He nodded, and I used the toilet without further injuring myself, which felt like a huge accomplishment. The computer was waiting for me, as was my phone. Tom had gotten up and was scrolling through his own phone as he paced. I opened my browser and searched my name on Tumblr. Post after post, the basic facts correct…Will’s name, my mother’s name, the fact that we’d divorced and he’d married her, her funeral details. Other than that it was endless speculation as to the how and the why of it all. There were even photos from when I’d been at my heaviest, taken at various conferences, most likely obtained from the conference websites. And then I saw the pièces de ré·sis·tance…a somewhat racy photo Norman had taken of me, and one of us holding hands at Comic-Con in 2010, him kissing my cheek.

“Jesus motherfucking Christ tap dancing on a fucking saltine cracker. Have you seen…?”

“Yes. The photo of you and Norman, and the one he took of you are on the Daily Mail. Along with the video we made. It’s not an altogether unfavorable story, actually…”

I’d opened the site as soon as he mentioned it and scanned the article quickly.

Tom Hiddleston confirms romance with Prosper PR Social Media Director, Maude Gallagher

- Sorry, ladies…Tom Hiddleston is officially off the market. A video the couple posted on Hiddleston’s Tumblr blog Tuesday confirmed the rumors that have been swirling over the past several weeks. Gallagher’s first task as newly appointed Social Media Director for Prosper PR, of whom Hiddleston is a client, is working solely with Hiddleston to re-vamp his online presence. According to our sources, the totes adorbs pair are currently in New Orleans to attend the funeral of Gallagher’s mother, Mary Bonaventura, who passed away on Saturday. A native of New Orleans, Gallagher left the Big Easy for the Big Apple in 1998 after the tragic suicide of father Sean Gallagher, and shortly thereafter divorced her husband of fourteen months, William Bonaventura. Founder of Maude Gallagher, LLC, an internationally known social media consultation firm with such A-list clients as Anne Rice, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Robert Downey, Jr., Gallagher is no stranger to the celebrity dating scene, either, having spent some one-on-one time with Walking Dead star Norman Reedus in 2010. The two were snapped canoodling at Comic-Con, and Reedus included a boudoir-style shot of Gallagher in a 2013 exhibition of his photography. Hiddleston is set to begin promo tours for his three soon-to-be-released films over the next two months, Crimson Peak, I Saw the Light, and High Rise, followed by the filming of Skull Island this fall.  

“No, I guess it could have been much fucking worse. We even got a ‘totes adorbs’. And I suppose, on some level, I’m grateful that they outed me without my having to do it myself. But was it really necessary to mention that I dated another actor? Like, five years ago? And post photos? Where did they even FIND those? Tom, I did give him permission to include it in his exhibition, but never gave a thought to…”

He looked up from his phone. “Twitter. They found them on Twitter. Norman’s Twitter, to be precise.”

Eyes cast downward, I struggled to grasp what he was saying. Tramadol was officially on my ‘keep that shit away from me’ list. Though at this point, the blame could be placed on a multitude of other things. Like the fact that Tom screaming ‘you’re just a pathetic little famewhore’ in my face kept repeating over and over in my head, like a Vine video, six seconds, endlessly looping. I told myself that I’d forgiven him, that I had no right to mention it again, but the tears began to spill over anyway. I felt his weight on the bed at my side, then his arms around me, cheek pressed against mine.

“Oh Maude…I’m so sorry. It’s reminded me of the awful things I said the other night, and if I’m upset I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. It’s okay.” His voice broke. “Please don’t think I’m angry with you. I’m not. And if you’re angry with me, I understand.”

I wiped my tears away, sniffing. “I’m not angry. But yeah, it’s circling in my head, like a vulture or something. Sorry. I’ll get over it. I just…I feel like…I don’t know. Like I did something wrong. Even though it was before I knew you. Does that make sense? I guess that’s why I had the breakdown about Will yesterday. Even though I didn’t know you when I was…you know…whenever I think about it, it feels like I betrayed you somehow. Same thing with Norman.”

He nuzzled my neck, stubble tickling me. “Yes. It makes sense. I feel horribly guilty when such thoughts cross my mind. Which has never happened to me before, I might add.”

My logic kicked in suddenly. “How did you know those came from Norman’s Twitter account?”

He leaned back so he could see me, arms still holding me tightly. “He told me they did.”

“I’m sorry…what the fuck do you mean ‘he told you they did’?”

“He phoned me earlier, after he’d seen them. To apologize.”

I could feel my brows rise as my head tilted to the side. “You talked to Norman. On the phone. When he called to apologize.” He nodded. “What was he apologizing for, exactly?”

“For causing us any additional stress, especially at such a difficult time. He noticed yesterday that they were being re-tweeted, and then he saw the Mail article. While he thought it was tasteless that they’d felt the need to use something he considered art as a sensationalist tactic, he was pleased they’d at least gotten the timeframe correct. He said he rang your phone, but when he got voicemail he figured he’d try mine.”

“Where the hell did he get your number?”

“Guillermo.”

“Clever. I can’t ever imagine anyone being pissed at him no matter what he does. Did he actually use the word ‘tasteless?”

Tom smiled. “I believe his exact phrasing was something along the lines of ‘Those assholes, how fucking disgusting is it that they take something so beautiful, a work of art, man, and twist it into a sex sells scandal clickbait bullshit item? No respect for women, man. Or art. Fuckers.’”

“That’s more like it.” Finding myself at a loss for words, I clicked on the photo to enlarge it. Tom stared at the screen and began rubbing my back. I felt compelled to explain the circumstances of how it had come into being, but figured he wouldn’t want to know, so I slammed the laptop closed. “This is really, really, REALLY fucking awkward. I’m sorry it exists, and I’m sorry you had to see it, and that someone I used to date took it…”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad to have seen it. He’s correct. It is a work of art. You’re a work of art, Maude. How could anyone resist capturing a moment like that? I took a look at some of his other photography online…he’s quite talented. Everything is very spontaneous, visceral…yet perfectly composed.”

My head turned in order to face him. “This is hurting what’s left of my brain, Thomas. Do you, like, LIKE Norman? Because…that would make it like fucking Seinfeld all up in here. Worlds. Are. Colliding.”

Tom guffawed. “Let’s leave it at I no longer thoroughly DISlike him, shall we?” His laughter ceased, but a faint smile remained. “When I saw his name come up on my phone, I’ll admit it…I was significantly less than delighted. But after we spoke for a bit I realized that it mustn’t have been an easy thing for him to do, either…yet he did it anyway. It was a very kind gesture. When commenting on the article, he blurted out ‘wow, man, I had no idea she was married before’, and in that moment any residual jealousy I’d been harboring simply vanished, because it became clear to me that you’d been absolutely truthful when you said you’d never loved him.” The look I shot him made him blanch, and he let go of me and put his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Not that I didn’t believe you before. That came out wrong. Fuck. Sorry. What I meant was…it…I…”

My hand squeezed his thigh. “I know what you meant. That I never cared enough about him to want to reveal anything of importance finally solidified what I said for you. It was a very kind gesture, though, and I want to say thank you. Maybe we can call him together later?” Tom nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to tell you how that work of art came to be.” He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s actually pretty funny. We were heading out to yet another party I didn’t wish to attend wherein I’d inevitably encounter drunk and angry Norman. I’d met him at his place, having stopped along the way to get a cup of tea, and pretty much as soon as I walked through the door I tripped over his cat and spilled it all over my shirt. His ex-wife kept some clothes there for when she was in town dropping off or picking up their son, and when he told me to help myself I laughed and laughed. Because, Helena Christensen…supermodel. He said she liked to wear oversize stuff when she travelled and that something that would fit me for sure, so I decided to prove him wrong. That white man-tailored shirt was the largest thing I could find, and I put it on and walked out into the living room and posed, my way of saying ‘I told you so, jerky.’ Before I could say a word he grabbed his camera and started shooting. In the end I wound up wearing a KISS T-shirt instead. Much to my dismay. So. There was nothing boudoir about it. At all. Just clumsy me entertaining the masses. Though I guess I do look kind of hot. That’s the only decent thing my mother ever gave me…a really nice rack.”

He swept my hair aside and ran  his tongue across the back of my neck. “Mmm. You’re even hotter now. Which reminds me…that song from last night…”

I was perfectly cognizant of what song he was referencing, but was reluctant to discuss it as there wasn’t enough time for a proper fuck fest before the funeral. I opted to make a most likely fruitless attempt at diversion. “YAY, you DO like Skrillex!”

“Well, perhaps, but that Kyoto one is…no, that’s NOT the song I’m talking about.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for?”

His eyes rolled so far back all I saw was white. “Closer. THAT song. It took Herculean effort to not shag you senseless, in case you were wondering. But I knew you were impaired, which would have made doing so inappropriate, in my opinion…but perhaps you’ll sing it again for me later?”

An evil grin broke out across my face. “I guess. As long as you comply with my demand and let me fuck you like an animal afterward…”

His groan was interrupted by my phone ringing. It was Barty. I hit the answer button and put him on speaker.

“Good morning, Miss Maude. How’s the ankle?”

“Hurts like a mother f…it hurts bad. But once I have some ibuprofen I’ll be right as rain. Just a sprain, and they gave me a walking boot. Which is wicked stylish, of course.”

He laughed. “I’m guessing y’all haven’t watched any local news this morning. Am I right?”

Tom frowned. “We haven’t. Is something wrong?”

Barty laughed some more. “Not exactly. In fact, I’m of a mind you’ll think that something is very, very right when I tell you about certain events that occurred overnight.”

I poked the phone. “Well, now I’m excited. Spill it, oh great solicitor.”

“Approximately five minutes after one in the morning, the security alarm sounded at the Winchester residence. They’re at 2469 St. Charles…right next to your place. Been there since 2001 or so. It was a break in, and they recognized the perpetrator when they went downstairs, baseball bats in hand. It was none other than one William Bonaventura, drunk, brandishing a knife and raving about how he didn’t care what anyone said, he was taking what’s his. He proceeded to carry several pieces of furniture, several electronic devices and an array of knick-knacks out to a truck in the driveway before the police showed up. He then took off and drove said truck, which turned out to be stolen, down the street and crashed it into a telephone pole. When they arrested him they discovered that he was not in possession of a valid driver’s license, but was in possession of two ounces of marijuana and had a blood alcohol level of two point one percent. I have yet to see the laundry list of charges against him since there’s been no arraignment, but I do know that he will do a minimum of ten years for the armed robbery alone.”

I glanced over at Tom, grinning like a Cheshire cat. As was he. When I spoke, I found it impossible to contain my exuberance. “Soooo…the fucking idiot went out, tied one on, got pissed off and decided to get even, stole a truck and then robbed THE WRONG FUCKING HOUSE? This…this is…ohmyfuckinggod…I know it makes me a terrible human being, but the SCHADENFREUDE. Bwhahahahahaha…”

“Miss Maude, it does no such thing. Stupid is as stupid does, as Forest Gump’s mama used to say. And that boy…all he’s ever done is stupid. Well deserved, I say. You go on and enjoy it. My apologies, but I have a client arriving in a few, so I must be on my way. Give me a jingle when the title for the house is ready for transfer.”

Tom and I both shouted “Thank you, Barty!” and I ended the call.

Speechless, all I could do was shake my head back and forth slowly. I caught sight of the clock, noticed it was eleven forty-five and began to freak out. “Shit. Shit shit shit. We still have to shower and get dressed…” I looked down at my aircast. “Fuck. How, exactly, am I going to shower? It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet, and I HAVE to shower, because I’m all hospitaly and icky…”

Tom rose from the bed, went to the desk and picked up two garbage bags and a roll of duct tape. “Got these from the maintenance person this morning. We’ll just wrap the boot so it won’t get wet, and I’ll help you stand if you need me to. I already showered, so all I have to do is dress.”

His thoughtfulness reminded me of the depth of my love for him, and he for me. It surged through me, eclipsing everything else I was feeling. “Thomas, you are just…just…thank you. Thanks for taking care of me last night, and all this week, and…”

A kiss cut me off, and he knelt between my legs, cautiously lifting my foot and slipping the bags over the boot. “It’s my pleasure, Maude. Having someone to care for…having you to care for…it makes me feel whole. Complete. And so very, very blessed.” The smile he flashed as he finished taping and held out his hands to help me up turned me into a pile of goo. “Come on, now. Time to get you nice and wet.”

I snorted. “Hiddleston, I’m already nice and wet.”

He rested my weight against his chest, hand slowly working its way down my belly and inside my panties, chuckling as I shuddered when he made contact, fingers delving between my folds. “Of course you are.” I whined when I felt his hand disappear, only to reappear as he brought his fingers up to my mouth, tracing my lips. I stuck out my tongue to lick them, but he pulled them away and thrust them into his own mouth, sucking eagerly for a moment, then releasing them with a pop. “Wet and delicious.”

I gasped, then a throaty moan followed. “THOMAS. PLEASE. STOP.”

He laughed as he grabbed the crutches and handed them to me. “Never, woman. NEVER. Shower time. Move along.”

“Fine. Fucking bastard.”

“I do love you so, my Maude.”

My eyes narrowed as I scowled at him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” I placed a tiny kiss on his jaw. “I love you too, Thomas. Let’s get this shit over with so we can  run away to New York. The Carnegie Deli is calling my name, baby, and you’re buying.”

“I’m buying?”

“Did you honestly think I’d forget about our last bet? About the number of notes on your first Tumblr post? Please. It’s a free meal. That stays on the hard drive for-ev-er.”

His mouth crashed against mine, tongue searching, tasting of me. He broke the kiss within seconds, leaving me even more frustrated than I’d already been. “I remember. And I can’t wait. For dinner, for New York…and everything after.”

I grinned in spite of my case of ball-less blue balls. “Me either, baby. Me either.”

[spooky-raccoon]

Love Struck (Part 5) (Rufo x Reader)

         We had gotten ready for the day when there was a knock on the door.  Rufo was making pancakes so I went to answer the door.  There stood a man in a trench coat.  I rolled my eyes as I kept the door partially shut so Rufo wouldn’t see him.

         “It’s fucking Christmas.  Do you mind?”  I kept my frustrated tone down.

         “You know I’m just the messenger, (Y/N).”  He handed me a thumb drive and I took it, slipping it into my pocket.  “I tried to tell Frank you didn’t want to be bothered with your boyfriend visiting and all, but you know him.  Also, after that job he wants you to come see him at his office.”

         “Yeah, I do.”  I let out a sigh and shook my head.  I reached to my purse hanging on the wall and took out a few bills, handing them to him.  “Have a good Christmas, Luo.”

         “(Y/N) before I go, when you go see him, be careful. Some things have been fishy lately. I wish I could help you out when you go but I’m tied up.”  His voice got lower and he leaned in a little.

         “It’s no problem, Luo.  Thank you.  You’ve honestly always been such a big help.”  I smiled softly at him as he waved.

         With that he left, and I went back to the kitchen once I put the thumb drive in my desk drawer.  I’d deal with that later.  Not like it would take me long but right now Rufo came first.  His back was still to the door when I had turned around and he smiled at me when I stood next to him to help him out.

         “What was that all about?”  He raised an eyebrow as he placed a pancake on a plate and poured the batter for another.

         “Just some work.”  I shrugged.  His head moved upwards, and he looked as if he was remembering something.

         “Was it a man in a trench coat?”  His tone changed as he flipped the pancake.  A shiver ran up my spine as I nodded.  “I may not know much about insurance, but I doubt they would come bug you on a pretty big holiday.  Want to tell me the truth dear?”  He turned to look at me and for the first time in ages his icy steel eyes startled me.

         “I have,” a let out a heavy sigh, “I suppose there’s a lot to tell you.  I’ll tell you but after we open presents.”  His expression softened a little and he gave me a small shrug.

         “I suppose that’ll do.  At least you’re telling me.  Last time someone didn’t tell me something it didn’t go very well.” He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes.

         “Tore him limb from limb and ate his face off. You’ve told me.”  I lightly bumped my hip into him as I took our plates to the table.

         “Hey, that’s a fun story to tell.  His scream is what really did it though.  So high pitched and the way it echoed off the walls only made it better.”  Rufo was trying to hold back laughs but it wasn’t going well.  

         I know he was serious, but we were always able to joke and just talk about his work casually which he enjoyed.  He knew I didn’t judge him after the time I came upon him killing and eating someone in the alley before our first date.  I admit I would even laugh with him when he told stories of his favorite ways he tore through people.  Even as we ate our breakfast he was telling me about a time several months ago, sound effects and all.  When we were done we washed the dishes and sat on the couch after grabbing the gifts to give one another.

         “I really hope you like it.”  I was nervous a little as I handed him the wrapped box and he handed me a bag with a snowman on it with green tissue paper sticking out.

          “It’s from you so why wouldn’t I?”  He chuckled softly, and I could see he was nervous as well. I realized this was probably the first Christmas he had with someone he cared for in decades and my heart broke a little.  “You go first doll.”  He gestured to the bag and there was an eager tone in his voice.

         With that I took the tissue paper out and there was a flat square box.  I took it out and carefully opened it.  Inside was a gold locket with filigree engraving.  There was a ruby in the center.  Taking the necklace out I opened it up and inside was a picture of him on one half and the other another engraving.

         No matter how far I’ll always be in your heart.

         “Rufo, it’s beautiful.”  Eagerly I put it on and hugged him tightly.  “I love it so much.”  I buried my face in his neck as he hugged me just as tight.

         “I was worried it was a little pretentious with the picture of me inside so I’m glad you do.”  I sat back down, and he propped his gift on his lap.  

         I bit my bottom lip as he tore at the paper to reveal the black leather case.  When he opened it to see what was inside, his eyes sparkled like a child.  Carefully he took the knife, turning it over to examine it. He flipped the blade open with a flick of his wrist and the steel sparkled in the lights.  His fingers ran along the handle, feeling the grooves and indentations. The end caught his attention when he saw two heart shaped small rubies that were set into the metal.  Between the gems was engraved the word “Doll”. He had such a large grin on his face which gave me a sigh of relief.

         “The handle is made out of tungsten so if you hit someone with it it’ll do a lot of damage.  You don’t have to worry about the gems falling out.  They’re pretty stuck in place.”  I smiled softly as I watched him run his thumb along the edge to feel the sharpness.  “The blade is one of the best steels you can find for knives, so you won’t have to worry about it breaking easily.”

         “It’s perfect doll.  Absolutely perfect.”  His soft smile slowly turned into a devilish one as his eyes slowly made their way to me. “I feel like using it a little bit.” His free hand reached out, gripping the back of my hair and pressed the knife to my neck.  The coolness of the steel sent a shiver down my spine as my body succumbed to arousal.  “Get comfortable for me, (Y/N).”

          The blade left my neck to let me stand.  I stood in front of the tree and he re-positioned himself, so he was directly in front of me with his legs splayed open.  I slid my pants down and he leaned over.  I froze as the blade slide underneath my underwear.  With a flick of his wrist he cut through one side.  He did the same to the other side and my underwear fell down.

         “Those were my favorite comfy pair.”  I giggled as I slipped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side.

          “But you look so much better without them, especially when they’re on the floor.”  He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it with ease.  “Just like that bra too.”  His blade slipped under the front of my bra, this time the blade cutting at my skin. I let out a gasp at the sting and I felt blood drip down my torso.  Another wrist flick and my bra slipped to the ground.  “Oh, that’s even better.  Come give me a taste darling.”  His hands gripped my hips and he pulled me forward.

         His mouth connected to the wound between my breasts.  He set the knife down on the couch, so he could use a hand on each breast.  One of my hands rested on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head.  I couldn’t help but to moan softly as his fingers massaged my breasts and his lips sucked my chest hard enough to leave a dark hickey.  His hands traveled down my side and rested on the back of my thighs.

         “Come sit on Rufo’s lap and tell me some secrets doll.”  He pulled me forward a little more and I straddled his lap.  Blood coated his lips and went down to his chin. “Just because I want to fuck you doesn’t mean I haven’t forgotten.”  He grabbed the knife and rested his arm along the arm of the couch.

         “You don’t have to torture me.”  I rolled my eyes and gave him a playful smile.  I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.  At least not horribly.  “I know you don’t do well with computers or a lot of technology, so I won’t go into huge detail.”  I saw his eyes shoot down to the wound as fresh blood formed at the entrance of it then back up to me.  “I’m a hacker.  I get information that people try to hide.”  I dipped three fingertips in the blood and held them up.  “There’s three types of hackers.  White hats,” I licked the blood off one finger, keeping eye contact with him as I did, “they hack for good causes.  I would be a white hat.  Next are gray hats.” another finger licked clean of the blood and I felt the bulge underneath me twitch several times as he watched me attentively. “They hack for whatever reason, both good and bad.  Finally, black hats.”  I took my time cleaning my finger and letting out a soft moan just to tease him.  “They do it for horrible reasons, whether ruining people’s lives or illegal operations.” 

          “So, just another job?”  His head tilted to the side as he tried his best to ignore his twitching erection.  His fingers dug into my thighs tightly, so he could focus on that instead.

          “And to tell me that the guy who I’ve been working with for five years needs to see me for some reason.”  I rolled my eyes annoyingly.  “We’ve barely been face to face.”  My voice dropped down to a whisper and I leaned in to Rufo’s ear, “I was also told things have been going on lately and I should be careful.”

          “I’m going with you when you do go.”  His eyes shot up to me and he pulled me tight to him.

          “Rufo,” I leaned back some and rested my hands on his chest, “I’ll be fine.  I promise.” I leaned my head a little as I gave him a soothing smile, but he wasn’t having it.  He flipped me onto my back to pin me onto the couch and he loomed over me.

          “I’m going with you.”  He snarled through his teeth.  “And don’t you dare argue with me about it.”

         “Fine.”  I pressed my lips tightly to his as I gripped the back of his neck.  “We have to go get you a tuxedo then so no fucking just yet.” I chuckled as I slid out from under him and went to the bathroom to treat my chest.

         “Alright but when we get back I’m going to fuck you in it!”  I heard him shout from the living room and I couldn’t help but to chuckle.  I just hope this would all go well.

@ihaveaseriousclownproblem @lizzy-chan24 @behemothbrat @meresselxdoll @slushi

[makemyownwonderland-blog]

Smokey Morning [Logan x plus sized!Reader]

A/N: I wanted a cute Logan fic, so I wrote one. I did a bunch of backstory and set up before the actual fluff, which starts below the cut. I also wrote this from the perspective of a bigger girl, which I am; but tried to do my best to not describe the reader’s physical attributes.

Word Count: 1194

Warnings: mention of body issues, light smut, cheesy-ness.

Summary: Just a cute little morning between two wonderful little Canadians, one being Wolverine.

The cool breeze wafted through the open kitchen window, making the small home smell like wood smoke. The steam from the mug of warm coffee in your hands was dancing with the light wind, swirling around and enticing you to take a sip of the liquid. Setting the mug down on the counter, you pulled the loose-fitting flannel tighter around your body and began to button up the front so that the shirt was no longer hanging open. One benefit to your boyfriend being massive was that his shirts always made you feel small and delicate whenever you wore them. Even though you were certainly not small, the way his clothes engulfed you made you feel tiny like the models in magazines.

Outside the sky was coated in shades of grey; the exact same as it had been for weeks now as the province you called home burned. The fires weren’t close enough to your house to cause alarm, but you saw and felt their effects nonetheless. The downside to living in the dense forest was that you risked the chance of fires claiming your home as their own. But the isolation and peace of living in the mountains while being surrounded by nature was far too appealing to the both of you; so here you stayed.

You poured yourself another cup of coffee before getting out the necessary ingredients for breakfast; bacon and waffles. It was the same meal that you and your boyfriend had eaten for your first date. Measuring out the baking powder into the bowl of flour you smiled remembering said date. You had been meaning to go out for dinner for weeks but work kept interfering for both of you. One morning, after a particularly long night you asked if he wanted to accompany you to your favourite diner to have breakfast. As you were mixing the wet ingredients into the large bowl of dry ingredients you could hear the bacon beginning to sizzle as the smell mixed with the already smoky air. Spooning a ladle full of batter into the hot waffle iron you heard the creak of floorboards signaling that your boyfriend was awake.

“Smells delicious doll,” the gruff voice came from the doorway on your left.

Smiling brightly at him you let your eyes graze over his body. He was wearing dark red and black plaid flannel pyjama pants and was shirtless; his chiseled muscles on full display. Your e/c eyes followed the scattered dark hair from below his navel up to his well-defined pecs.

“Like what you see?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow with a smug look plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I do actually,” you grinned, flipping the bacon in the frying pan.

You didn't have to look at him to know that the smirk on handsome his face was still present. He meandered over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Heat radiated off of him and you instantly felt secure and loved, smiling you lean back into his broad chest. His hands slid lower and caressed your thighs, fingers making small indents in the soft flesh. His head fell to the crook of your neck and he placed a warm kiss just below your ear.

“Good,” he whispered before letting go and pouring himself a mug of coffee.

“You’re such an ass,” you chuckled, opening the waffle iron to remove the first waffle.

“And you love me, so what does that say about you?” came his smartass reply.

Shaking your head as you quietly chuckled at his comment, you took out the butter and maple syrup to top the waffle with.

“That I have poor taste in men?”

“Lucky me,” he grinned, gripping your hips and pulling you close to him.

You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and stared up at him lovingly, being enamoured with his hazel eyes that looked at you with more love than you could’ve imagined one person was capable of. You loved moments like these, where he was vulnerable and allowed his emotions to be visible to you. Usually he was reserved, preferring to keep his feelings concealed. He would like people to believe he had no emotions that could be seen as soft; that way they had no control over him. However, with you he felt comfortable. He felt safe. He allowed you to break a hole through the solid walls he had built up around himself.

“I love you Logan,” you sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I know,”

“Fuck you too,” you laughed.

“Maybe later doll,” he smiled while winking.

You stood at the sink, hands submerged in the warm soapy water while you washed the dishes from breakfast. Logan sat on the slightly weathered couch and gazed at you. Fuck did he love you. He loved the way you looked wearing his flannels, especially when you wore them with a pair of your underwear. In his mind there was nothing sexier, other than you being completely naked; sprawled across the bed and panting while begging for him. He loved reminding you how sexy you are; especially when you were down on yourself.

There had been times when he walked into your shared room to see you laying on the bed, crying. The noise ripped his heart in half and he wanted to do anything he could to fix it. The first time, he didn’t know that the person who had hurt you and made you cry was yourself; that you belittled yourself into the sobbing mess that was in his arms. He worshipped you that night, ensuring you that everything you hated about yourself was loved by him. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers sinking into the skin and telling you how sexy they were; who gave a damn if you didn’t have a thigh gap? His stubble tickled your stomach as he gently kissed the stretch marks littering your skin, whispering how beautiful and badass you are; these are your battle scars, wear them with pride. He loved you for everything you were and he wanted you to know that.

He smiled to himself as he heard you start to hum absentmindedly. No particular song, just quietly humming whatever tune you made up in your head as you went along.

“C’mere gorgeous,” he smiled, patting the top of his thigh.

Returning his smile you sauntered towards him with a light swing in your hips. You straddled his lap so that you were facing him, pulling the hem of the shirt up slightly so you had the room to do so. You loosely draped your arms around his neck while Logan’s hands gripped your hips; holding you close to him. You leaned forward and kissed him, which he eagerly returned. Pulling back slightly you rested your forehead against his.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“I know,” you giggled.

This earned a grumble from the man along with a playful swat on butt, which made you pull back and increase your laughter. Your laugh was contagious and made Logan snicker along with you, knowing he had that comment coming.

[oftempestsandteacups]

Early Mornings

My first ever hannigram fic! You can read it here on my tumblr or on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/11119209 He lay in the comfort of arms wrapped tightly around him. It’s dark, but the soft light hinting of a new day shines through a crack in the curtains, barely illuminating his lover’s face. Will focuses on their breathing. Neither are asleep; he knows this. But neither are words needed for this bubble of time that they find themselves in. No, right now they just rest and enjoy the quiet stillness that only each other’s presence provides them. Will’s mind is quiet. But the longer he remains wrapped up in this myriad of senses---the familiar weight of Hannibal’s arms, the inherent smell beneath that could only be the man himself, and the soft breath ghosting across his ear in time with the rise and fall of the chest beneath his head---the more they prove to become a distraction rather than a source of focus. Will’s mind drifts to thoughts of the intimacies that they share. Though it had been several months since the dam broke on the waters of their physical pull to one another, the closeness that they now share in body still feels as fresh as the first time to him. At the beginning, they shared a closeness of minds; it seemed fitting now that they should be brought to the point where their bodies share in it as well. Will smiles silently to himself at the thought and lets the hand resting atop Hannibal’s chest begin to slowly slide down. His hands find Hannibal’s balls, the weight heavy and familiar, as his hand begins gently massaging them between his fingers and against his palm. Breaking the silence of the room, a low hum of approval emanates from the previously quiet man beneath Will. No words are spoken, but the appreciation is clear and Will takes it for the encouragement that it is. Taking his time, he begins to leisurely increase the pace of his massage, widening the drag of his hand until it also begins covering Hannibal’s cock which has slowly begun to fill out from Will’s careful ministrations. Once he finds Hannibal to be suitably hard enough to his liking, Will begins his descent---soft kisses placed gently along the side of the chest his head once laid against, trailing his lips down the rounded off indents of ribs, further down to the juncture of Hannibal’s thighs. For a moment he pauses, nose pressed into the soft but wiry hair there, and just breathes Hannibal in. Will knows his sense of smell is in no way comparable to that of the man beneath him. But in this place Hannibal’s base scent is at its strongest and most pure, and Will drinks in the comfort that that smell brings him like a dying man who’s just found an oasis. Soon that becomes not enough and he continues his journey, lips trailing to the prize he has first sought. Though he cannot see it in the barely there light of the room, sight is not needed, as Will knows the weight and feel of Hannibal’s cock as his own now. He knows exactly how far it is from his face as he knows exactly as far as he wants this to go. His kisses continue up and around Hannibal’s cock, not quite brushing the long length, around the base, till he begins slowly working up to the tip for a last peck. Through all this, Hannibal has remained fairly quiet save for the occasional pleasured noise of encouragement, although that is not unusual for the man in their intimacies. But that soft sound of encouragement soon turns into a deep groan of demanding need as Will’s lips part from a gentle kiss and envelop the length of him. Will lets his mind go black for a second as he takes Hannibal into him. This is not new for him, but like every time, he savors it as if it’s the first. Letting go his own sound of pleasure, Will continues to suck along Hannibal’s cock---long swipes of his tongue interspersed with the hollowing of his cheeks as he takes him to the root. Will thinks he could stay this way forever if time and the needs of his body would let him---forever eating and drinking at this feast upon Hannibal’s table. But early mornings don’t last forever and he knows the full rays of the sun will soon illuminate their room, heralding the beginning of a new day with new work that must be done throughout their house on both of their parts. And so he stops his mouth’s gentle exploration of Hannibal’s cock, and redirects the aim of his focus to his true target. Sliding himself up on his arms, Will moves to the side of the bed where the box of condoms lay on the side table. Hands closing around the first packet he finds and the jar of lube, he makes his way back over to Hannibal on his knees, searching for the man’s eyes through the soft light of the room. Up until this point there has been no words between them. Will makes to say something in a low voice, but upon finding those eyes looking back up at him----need and desire burning as brightly in them as he’s sure his own reflects back, he swallows whatever the words were going to be. Instead he makes to open the package and works the condom on Hannibal’s cock. Once satisfied, he gives a few gentle pulls to the now covered cock before him, all the while maintaining eye contact with the man underneath him. Hannibal’s eyes are an already stoked fire quickly gaining ground, and it makes Will gently groan under his breath, his growing need forcing him give his own neglected cock a few pulls. Opening the jar, Will reaches in and scoops a generous portion onto his fingers. The sun has continued its path and its rays now shine slightly brighter through the slit in the curtain, making their bodies more visible to each other. Will holds up his fingers for Hannibal to clearly see, the moisture heavy looking and glistening slightly in the light, and watches as Hannibal’s already dilated pupils blow wide. Will swings his legs and straddles Hannibal in one smooth roll of his hips while at the same time easing his lube covered hand behind himself to find his own hole and begin working himself open. He is no stranger to this by any means now---these past few months Hannibal had been very patient in showing Will the pleasures to be had from this new sort of stimulation. It takes Will hardly any time now to feel the gentle easing of his muscles there, signaling to himself his growing readiness. After a few minutes of preparation, Will lets his eyes roll back from the place they had travelled into his head and find Hannibal’s again. Pupils still blown and breathing getting heavier, he watches as Hannibal’s chest rises up and down, slightly faster each time. Easing himself onto his knees astride Hannibal, Will holds the man’s gaze as he slowly sinks himself onto his cock. It’s always a struggle in this moment to hold himself there---to stay with Hannibal, to not go inside of himself. The first time Hannibal had sunk into Will he had had to grab the smaller man’s face and hold him center just to keep him there, to keep him present. The feeling is so overwhelming, like he’s both a little of himself and a little of Hannibal at once. Will no longer tries to go away anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not tempted to. Will begins moving. Yes, this is better, he knows. The familiar drag and pull inside, it helps ground him in the moment. The first movements are slow and tentative, felt out. Will likes it this way. The pull, he knows Hannibal feels it as much as he does. He’s known the same from those few times Hannibal has let Will feel him. He keeps it slow for awhile, each drag of his hips say feel me. Briefly he lets his eyes slide shut, a moment to enjoy it all on his own without distraction, but then snaps them open. Will’s pace picks up as does their enjoyment increase. Will is pretty sure he knows what love is. He has not always known, although the concept of it was there. But looking into Hannibal’s face now is the closest he’s ever felt it. The look of raw, unfiltered adoration shining there mixed with a heady blend of the man’s own pleasure, spurs Will on. It quickly becomes too much and Will’s hips jerk forward. “Hanni…” he says, his voice breaking. “Shhh...I know,” the voice beneath him answers. And with that, Will comes undone, all the muscles in his body seizing, his hips continuing to move seemingly of their own accord as he distantly registers the sudden familiar surge of warmth within him. The drop is slower this time for Will, lazy almost. The highs he rides with Hannibal tend to send them both up a sheer and steep cliff face, only to quickly plunge them back down again. But not so now. Now, he all but floats on a cloud, waiting to gently drop back down to earth. And so he does, back into those arms.

[vintage-story-time]

MANHATTAN MADNESS by Chili Peeler

Chapter 8

Julie sat up and reached behind her, unfastening her now unnecessary top. She pulled the leather straps off her shoulders and peeled the top off her body. Her fresh-fucked silicone breasts barely sagged as she threw the top on the floor. "Fuck, I love your body," Jim said as she lay on her side by him, "Did you ever dance like Beth?" Julie laughed, "No." Then continued, "That was never an option for me." Her hand dipped down between his splayed legs and began stroking his deflated balls. "I prefer being in the background, pulling the strings." Jim turned his body so he was on his side facing her and let his right hand begin massaging the underside of her breasts, enjoying the firm heavy weight of her fake tits. "Why are we doing this tonight?" Jim asked, sincerely curious, "I mean.. is it because I'm Beth's brother."

"Now why would you think that?" Julie said, that wicked smile beginning to creep back onto her face. "I sort of get the idea that would be something you'd go for...I should be off limits since Beth is your...girlfriend....but I think you like wild stuff like that." "I'll admit that that was part of it." Julie conceded as her hand squeezed his nut sack lovingly. "I also can't resist young men; you're always so hard and eager to please....but, I could ask you the same question. You knew Beth and I are lovers and it didn't stop you." Julie had a point there. Here he had gone a slept with his sister's lover and a portion of his attraction was probably found there. It was a real turn-on in fact, sharing Julie with Beth. Still he didn't want Beth to find out; it might ruin her thing with Julie. "I hope we can keep this to ourselves," Jim confessed, "I'd hate myself if Beth found out and it caused any problems between you two." "Our secret is safe with me...you know, if you want to fuck me, we better stop talking and get down to business." Just like that, Julie slipped back into her temptress voice as her hand slid up along the bottom of his half-hard dick. "Oh, man, am I going to fuck you!" Jim chortled, "Just get me hard and get those pants off." "First things first...I've got your cum on my chest...I'd really like it if you'd rub it into my tits." With pleasure!" Jim moved his fingers up into a puddle of his juices and then went to work smearing her left nipple with it. Encouraged by the way her hand began beating his rising member, he was soon using his entire palm to knead and rub his spunk on both her tits. Julie was loving it, too. "Mmmmmm, feel how hard my nipples are!" "I can't believe how small they are," Jim confessed. Julie must have had a pretty small pair of tits before her surgery. "Suck on 'em!" Julie sighed as her she arched her back, lifting her left melon-like mammary toward his lips. Jim lowered his face and took her pencil-thick nubbin into his mouth and began swirling his tongue against its stiff rubbery stalk. Julie began almost immediately to vocalize her pleasure, "Oh, that's it, stud!...Mmmmm....oh, you hot fucker.....lick your cum off my nipple." Jim almost pulled his mouth away; he hadn't been thinking about that since he'd rubbed it into her skin but that salty taste wasn't all sweat. He was tasting his own cum. Back in Nebraska, that would be homo activity so he had some natural ingrown trepidation. But it was turning Julie on, so he forged ahead. He let his hand start sliding down between their prone bodies, down her stomach and under the top band of her short skirt and the tight pants underneath. He wanted to diddle Julie's puss before he peeled her pants off and dropped between her thighs....... In a flash, Julie's hand was off his dick and pushing his hand away. Surprised by another denial of entry into her holy of holies, he raised his mouth from her succulent teat and leaned away from her. "What now?!" he asked, breathing hard. "If I'm gonna fuck you, I should be able to finger you." "Oh, you poor boy....I must have given you the wrong idea." She leaned toward him and kissed his chest, then continued rolling onto her stomach. "Did you think you were going to get my pussy?" "Christ, you said you wanted me to fuck you!" Jim said exasperatedly. "I do want you to fuck me," Julie assured him, "just not where you had in mind......I want you to fuck my asshole!" Her eyes danced with a wicked mischief as she knew the proposal would be unexpected. "Holy....are you serious?" Jim asked excitedly. He'd seen a girl in those blue films take on two guys at once, one of them taking her up the ass, but he'd never dreamed he'd be in bed with a woman that wanted it there. Of course, Julie was just the kind of woman that would - no sexual hang-ups at all. "Pull off my skirt and you'll see just how serious I am." Jim did just that. He moved onto his knees, straddling the

back of her knees and pulled down on the skirt to reveal an oval-shaped slit in the bottom of her tight leather pants. Julie's voluptuous ass filled the pants so completely that the slit was naturally spread wide, revealing the deep cleft in her buttocks. Julie's leather-strapped top had been made to accentuate titfucking and her pants were made for backdoor sex and backdoor sex only. The slit did not dip low enough that Jim could get any view of her pussy; Julie's stinginess even went that far. "Niiiiiiiiiiice," Jim said as his hands began to stroke her ample ass; he loved the contrast of the soft leather and the even softer skin of Julie's asscheeks. He'd always gone for girls with small, tight butts; school cheerleaders or even cruising some sophomores. But Julie's ass was....substantial. That was probably the best word to describe it. It was a full-grown woman's ass.....and she wanted it fucked! Julie twisted her upper body to look back at him over her left shoulder. Her left hand came back and pulled her ass open. Jim found himself looking at her sweaty, lightly-haired asshole. The dimpled area surrounding it was darker in color and striated. "Finger it...go ahead, it won't bite you!" she prompted him. Jim used his right hand to pull her right cheek apart and he slid his left index finger down onto her puckered opening. He ran his fingertip around her hot, damp entrance a few times and Julie hunched her hips back at him to spur him to investigate further. Slowly he stuck his finger against her sphincter and it slid through her elastic barrier. "Yeah, stick it up there," Julie hotly demanded. "Mmmm, I like that." Jim was amazed at the heat that surrounded his probing digit; it felt like it had been inserted in an oven on low heat. It didn't feel particularly tight around his single finger except at her sphincter where it gripped his knuckle. Experimentally he began thrusting his finger in and out, watching it draw out her moist butthole slightly before it slid down his finger. He wondered if he'd be able to get all of his cock up her ass; Julie was large in stature, so his money was on her. There was no time like the present to find out. "Ready for some cock up your ass?!" Jim put on a confident tone as he looked up at Julie's watching face. He knew she'd liked hot talk and he wanted to show her that he was eager to try it. "Always," Julie said sexily, "Pull my skirt all the way off." Jim did so and as soon as he cast it on the floor, Julie grabbed a pillow and slid it under her hips, raising her derierre slightly as she spread her legs wider on the bed. Jim kneeled now inside her legs instead of straddling them. "Now, before you go plunging in there, I want you to use some spit to get your knob slick. The rest should go in without much trouble," she promised. Jim spat several times into his hand and rubbed the slippery wetness all over the flared head of his renewed erection. He scooted forward until his knees were against the inside of her thighs. That was Julie's signal to lower her chest onto the bed, reach around with both hands and pull her cheeks wide for him. "Man, I wish I had a camera," Jim told Julie as he leaned over her stretched out frame, supporting himself with his left arm as his right hand guided his glistening dickhead down into her asscrack. It really was an erotic sight - this lovely goddess holding her ass open for him, inviting him to sample yet another new sexual activity. She was being a great tour guide; it appeared she liked everything under the sun except straight sex. He ran his dick cap slowly down her crack until it fed into the deep indentation of her asshole. He pressed downward and had no success at first. "Shove it a little harder," Julie encouraged. "Get the head in and we're home free, baby." Nervously, Jim hunched forward, then tried even harder. All at once his cock helmet disappeared through her tight sphincter ring. "Oh, God, that's tight!" Jim gasp. Her sphincter

squeezed his shaft just behind his buried knob like a vise. "It'll loosen, baby, just let it sit for a minute....don't tell me you never had to let a girl adjust to your big dick?......I've bet you've stretched out quite a few teenyboppers back in Nebraska!.......feel it, it's not so tight now, is it?" "No, that feels a lot better," Jim had to admit. The muscle ring had loosened to the point that it was still tight but not so tight that it hurt. Julie released her ass, brought her arms back up under her body and raised herself up on her elbows. She whipped her long black hair to the side with one of her sexy head tosses and twisted her upper body to look back at their union. "Ooh, look at that big fucker sticking in my ass!" she said like a X- rated porn star, "Okay, give me the rest!" Jim kissed her shoulder, then moved his mouth to nibble her earlobe. He slowly began pushing his hard dick down into her musky hole, leaning further over her to get the right angle instinctively. "Oh, yeah!...God, shove it in, baby! Aaaaah...mmmmmm.....open my ass right up, lover!" Julie throatily whispered, her mouth so close to his own ear. Her ass felt like a hot, tight, oily glove; it seemingly sucked him inward until the top of his hand, which clenched the base of his half- buried prong, pressed into her soft ass cheeks. He took his hand away, sliding it under her stomach as he worked another inch into her gorgeous rear. "Fuck, this is wild!" Jim groaned as he moved his mouth forward along her jaw line, until his lips were on the side of her mouth and her tongue was coming out to greet him. Their kiss was awkward due to the way her body was twisted but her heat was transmitted. She was getting really turned on now, there was no faking going on. Like an excited, anxious stallion, Jim lunged forward and the final two inches of his throbbing cock pushed into Julie's seemingly bottomless shithole. The front of his hips and dangling nuts lay on her slightly trembling, leather-covered ass. She moaned into his mouth, the vibrations coursing through her captured tongue. After another moment, their lips parted with a wet smacking sound and it was Julie's panting voice that filled the still bedroom. "God, I love it!....I love getting fucked up the ass....come on, do it, Jim!" "Okay, okay," Jim rasped and he dragged several inches of cock out of her hot depths and then sank it back in. "Oh, man, I could get used to this! Shit, I can feel your muscles squeezing me. Are you doing that on purpose?" "Mmm hmm," she sighed as he began fucking her ass. "Feel this?" "Aaaah, Christ!" Jim grunted as her shitter tightened up, then relaxed again. He took the opportunity to begin screwing her butthole faster, enjoying the series of sexy clenchings that Julie began with her tail muscles. "That's the way to fuck that ass!...aaahh....aahhh....Fuck it, you horny bastard.....oh, yeah, uunnhuhhh...mmmmmm!" Julie was using her voice like she was using her inner muscles. Jim attacked her ear with his tongue, worming it in there, knowing that he loved it when a girl did that. Julie sighed and then shook her head to make him stop. Either it was too sexy or she was ticklish. Undaunted, his right hand slid up the front of her body and began groping her fabulous tits, the tits he'd fucked about fifteen minutes ago. His fingers slid into the bottom of her cleavage and he could feel some of his spunk hiding in there. "Found some..of my jizz between..your tits." Jim said into her ear as he continued plunging her upthrust ass. She gave an excited squeal but he wasn't sure whether it was due to his discovery or to a hard thrust he delivered to her immediately after. Then he felt her hand move over his and she drew his hand up to her face and began sucking on his fingers, nursing on them like they would spurt more cum than what she could taste on his fingers. Jim was glad he'd come once already because Julie's erotic finger sucking and her hot asshole taking

his hard dick would have made them blow his load. As it was, he felt good, felt strong. He began pumping her anal chute strongly. "Stuff my ass with cock!" Julie blurted as she drew his fingers from her mouth, "Fuck it.....oh YEEAAHH.....just like that, just like that, stud! ...God, I'm gonna come big time....." That's just what Jim wanted to hear; he wanted to get Julie off good. He wanted her to want him. He wanted to fuck her again and again while he was in New York, before he went back to the boring farm. They continued their anal ballet for another ten minutes before Julie finally got her rocks off. Julie had begun grinding her hips into the pillow that she lay on and throwing her ass up to meet his descending rod. Jim slowed his thrusts, wanting to catch his breath, and Julie just went on fucking herself on his near stationary prick. During the course of their lovemaking, Julie had moved her legs nearly together and Jim had moved his knees to straddle her thighs. Now he leaned back on his knees, letting his hands grip her straining waist as he looked down to watch her stuff her asshole again and again with his still member. She did that for about 30 seconds and then became flustrated. "Please, God, fuck me...fuck my ass hard!" Julie commanded as she swept her left hand back to grip his ass. There was an urgency in her voice and he knew she must be near her orgasm. "I will!...take it, Julie...ah, shit......fuck that ass up at me!" Jim said, getting caught up in her dirty language as he slid his hands up to grip her shoulders and began throwing his thick prick into her squirming butt with wild abandon. "OOOH....AAAHHH.....MMMMMMMMMMAAAAHHHHHH!" Julie's ass began jerking and her asshole clamped down hard on his flashing manhood. His sister's lover was getting off from his energetic ass fuck! He felt his own peak racing toward him then. Her tight, spasming rectum was begging for his own explosion. He gritted his teeth as he tried to delay it..he'd had the hottest sex of his life that evening and he didn't want it to end... he wanted to remember every detail....her tits wrapped around his dick....his cum splashing onto her neck.....her hot butt milking his ready-to-blow joystick. "UUUUUUUUUNNGGHHHH!" he bellowed as he slammed his cock deep one last time in Julie's undulating tush and began firing his second cumload of the night, "UUUNNGGH...UNNGGH....OOH, FUCCCKKK!" His dick twitched and jerked in her nasty hole as Julie purred in delight. "Mmmmm, I can feel your cum," Julie reported to her sweating teen lover as her ass muscles, back under her control after her orgasm, worked to drain every last drop of love from his deflating cockshaft. Finally both became still and Jim began massaging her back as she slumped forward on the bed. "You got off, right?" Jim asked. "Sure did," Julie said dreamily. "You were great...but I think you ought to get out of here now. Liz might be here soon." Jim looked at the clock and decided she was right. He could probably get it up again but it wasn't worth the risk of discovery. He pulled his prick from Julie's stretched out asshole and sat beside her. She made no move to get up, so he kissed the side of her face and got off the bed. "Hey," he heard her say and turned back to her. She had raised herself back up on her elbows. "I've got something planned for you tomorrow, stud...if you're interested?" "You know I am." "Good." she said, her voice full of the promise of more delightful sin. Jim went to bed that night like it was Christmas Eve.