I Thought It Could Be Fun L.H

Originally posted by sexycliffconda

warning: smut ;)

word count: 2000+

summary: 69ing with Luke

requested?: yes, hope you like it! lmao, i’m a suckish smut writer bc i hardly ever post but here y’all go!

- Find my Masterlist here -


I groaned and sluggishly walked to the front door after a few minutes of hearing persistent knocking. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone today so I thought I could get away with ignoring whoever was there, but they obviously wanted to see me bad enough to knock on my front door repeatedly.

“yes?” I asked rudely, not even opening the front door fully to get a good look at whoever was there.

“is that the greeting you give to your amazing boyfriend who brought Chipotle?” Luke asked with a cheeky smirk, holding up a Chipotle takeaway bag. I groaned at the smell that was escaping the paper bag.

“you…” I trailed off, cupping his face and kissing him gently, “you, my amazing boyfriend are amazing” I grinned, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him.

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Saved by the turd.

Hey friends so this is part of @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash’s writing challenge. It falls into the Negan x physically disabled and mentally disabled reader categories . Also as a side note I’m physically disabled  so it was a cool new challenge for me to write some representation for myself. Thanks for letting me participate! 


Tagging: @negans-network

This fic is mainly the brain child of the light of my life @damnitdaryl she deserves so much lovin ❤

 Wordcount 2.5k

 Warnings: Negan being an asshole. Derogatory launguage around physical disability and kleptomania. Canon typical gore.

“That little turd is in there again? That’s it. She’s fucking done. From tomorrow she’s on the motherfucking wall.”

Strolling through the cell block, Negan’s whistling came to an abrupt end when he saw Simon leaning back in a chair against the stone wall. Unbridled anger flushed through Negan’s body and even though it wasn’t directly aimed at his old friend, he couldn’t fail to notice how he had startled the man. There was only one reason that he would be spending his time playing guard dog and it was grating on Negan’s last nerve.

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Hey guys! It’s Leah! So, I was scrolling through my dash and found the cutest otayuri headcanon and felt compelled to write it. 

This fics is based off of this headcanon by @emeto-on-ice

I hope this makes any sense and doesnt completely suck. I’m getting over a sickness myself. -Leah




Yuri Plisetsky was no stranger to migraines. Not at all. He actually had a habit of getting one at least every two weeks. Whether from anxiety, stress, pre-existing illness, or over-straining, he’d get them. 

So it isn’t heart-stopping, nerve wracking pain that makes him want to flip out. It’s when this particular migraine hits.

Otabek was paying a visit to Saint Petersburg. And he and Yuri had been planning to take today off the ice just to walk around the city.

The day itself started okay. Yuri woke up feeling just fine as a matter of fact. But as the morning and early afternoon pass by, the splitting pain is all too familiar as it works its way into the young blonde’s skull. 

Thought, with Otabek only being here for two weeks, Yuri was not going to let this knock him down so easily.

When it came to migraines, Yuri didn’t typically push through them. Hell, they were the only thing he didn’t push himself through. 

But, today he made sure that he had to. He would push through. 

Occasionally he’d rub his forehead or temple, or stop a second to breath against the faint dizziness and nausea that accompanied these damn headaches.

Whether Otabek noticed or made the choice for no important reason, the Kazakh guided Yuri to a bench when they were walking through a small park. 

Yuri sat down next to Otabek. His head was really starting to hurt now. The brightness of the cloudless day and the excited shouts of children a little down the way were only making things worse.

Despite his powerful attempts, his forehead was creased in pain. Yet the Russia native was attempting to be stoic about his condition.

Having Otabek next to him and sitting down left Yuri fighting against his instinct to lay his head on Otabek’s shoulder right now.

Instead, he focused on steadying both his vision and his stomach. 

Minutes feel like hours as the two sit quietly. It’s a tense silence between them. But fifteen minutes after sitting down, Yuri just wishes it was cloudy or more quiet. Because he really doesn’t feel too well and the mere thought of sleep is sounding so good. But he can’t voice this. Not with Beka here.

More time. More silence. Finally, Yuri gives in slightly. While he doesn’t say anything, his actions speak louder than any of his words ever would. 

The young blonde leans over, burying his head in the material of Otabek’s jacket. 

Otabek  lets out a slight hum of curiosity at the sudden weight on his shoulder. Looking down, he smiles softly and wraps his arm around Yuri’s small body.

But his faint smile falters as there is a slight tug at the edge of his scarf. And before he knows it, Yuri has the grey material shielding his eyes.

“Another headache?” Otabek questions quietly. 

Even the soft voice of his boyfriend causes Yuri to whimper in discomfort. 

Otabek wasn’t oblivious to Yuri’s headaches. They typically texted and video called when they were training. If Yuri was offline for a day, the following day or so he would apologize, explaining how he’d been down with a migraine. So, yeah, Otabek knew. 

“I think we’ve had enough adventure for a day, we aren’t too far from your apartment yeah?” Otabek said, talking quietly to not further affect Yuri’s discomfort. 

“Y-yes. We aren’t.” Yuri mumbled in response, voice muffled by Otabek’s jacket. 

“Come on, I’ll help you up.” Otabek says softly, nudging Yuri’s shoulder.

Neither of which anticipate what would follow.

A firm hold on Yuri’s shoulder, Otabek stood. Pulling the younger skater with him. 

The opaque material of the scarf fell off Yuri’s face. But as he forced himself upright, his typically pale skin became oddly devoid of color.

A look of terror crossed the younger skater’s face as a hand went to cover his mouth. His head was pounding with vengeance and his stomach was twisting and turning like his vision seemed to be doing. 

Otabek picked up on these signs lightning fast and immediately started guiding Yuri to a nearby tree that was away from the main gatherings of people. 

Almost immediately on arrival, Yuri is hunched over and choking up whatever was in his body, the disgusting liquid splattering the grass. Every harsh heave making Yuri’s head hurt worse.

Had Otabek not been there to hold him up, the young blonde would have collapsed. 

Being mindful not to aggravate the teen’s head, Otabek goes to work holding back his silky silver locks with one hand. 

Eventually, the vomiting itself tapers off, leaving Yuri dry heave for a solid ten minutes. By time he’s done, he’s panting for breath. But another jolt of his body spikes Otabek’s worry.

Yuri Plisetsky. Grand Prix Gold Medalist and all around exterior jerk at times. Yuri Plisetsky, the young teen who never shows much emotion other than anger to most. The teenager grips the sides of his head, and was physically sobbing.

Otabek does not hesitate a second to let go of Yuri’s hair and hug him lightly. The blonde buried his head in Otabek’s chest. 

“Hey, hey calm down…” Otabek says quietly

“Beka… it hurts.” Yuri whimpers softly 

“I know.. Let’s go back to the bench…. I’ll call Viktor to come get us okay?”

Yuri, weak and in pain, nods slowly without a moment to think. 

He feels awful at this point, but for now, he has Beka. And that’s enough for the time being

i think it's gonna be a long, long time (sid/geno astronaut!au)

It’s all cheesewithmy’s fault. I have a background in aviation, but lololol space is not my thing; handwavey science, loose technical terms, and only vaguely thought out space travel ahead!

Sid’s out on routine maintenance, doing a regular check of the heat shields when everything goes wrong. The anchor line snaps tight, jerking around his middle as the spacecraft rocks in the wake of an explosion, the black glittering canvas of space blown white and burning as an oxygen tank ruptures.

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SLAY ME (I still cannot believe I’m going to be doing this)

Okay y’all. Because of this damn theory that has been revolving around my head since I learned about what’s going to happen in Episode 13 and that damn kiss between the two beans in a new sneak peek of Episode 12, I decided to write this angsty one-shot. I’M SORRRRRYYYYY!!

For the second time in a millennium, Lucifer had never been so afraid. First, it was because of his Mother’s escape from Hell but this. This was just too much. Fear unlike anything he ever felt, a fear so great that it threatened to crash over his head and drown him under the powerful waves, coursed through him as he gazed down at the still woman on the hospital bed, so white she looked like a ghost, and hooked up to all kinds of machines all meant to keep her alive.

This shouldn’t have happened. It was supposed to end just like it always did after they solved a crime together. Bad guy caught, everyone safe and sound, and witty banter between them. Not bad guy dies and wins. He had questioned himself earlier after their kiss on the beach if what they had was real but after that kiss in his penthouse and her soft assurances, he knew then that what they had was real. That Chloe Decker had feelings for him just as he did for her. And now she was dying because he couldn’t protect her from the dead piece of scum.

It hurt. His chest felt like someone was slowly crushing it in a vice grip and he found himself having a hard time breathing. It was worse than when he had been kicked out of his home. This woman who was his home and dear friend (lover?) was dying. He had promised her that he would not let her die the first time they met and now here she was on this horrid hospital bed dying. He had failed.

No. No he hadn’t. There was still time. Getting a burst of determination, Lucifer turned on his heel and headed out of the hospital room. There is a way he could save her. And this time, no one is going to stop him.

It didn’t take him long to sneak out one of the vials still left intact from the scene and he had then promptly driven as fast as he could back to the hospital. Thankfully, there was no change in Chloe’s condition, but that didn’t means he was out of the woods yet. He needed to get the antidote. And by getting it, he had to go back to Hell.

His wings had helped aid his escape to Earth but without them, there were no means of travelling between the two realms. So in order to go back, he had to do a deed that his old self would have laughed at him for even attempting so. He had to kill himself.

Reaching over to Chloe’s side, he strokes her cold cheek with the back of his palm, smiling down at her sadly. “I’m going to be away for a bit, Detective. But don’t you worry. I’ll be back soon with the antidote and you are going to be just fine. So please… just hold on for a bit longer.” He whispered in a small voice unlike his usual, confident self. Doubt and concern filled his thought, fearing that he would never get out of Hell and fail in saving Chloe but he pushed them aside. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such thoughts.

With one last sad smile, he leans down and places a soft kiss on Chloe’s soft lips reminding him of satin sheets and pulls back, topping off the vial. With one huge gulp, he drinks the liquid in one go and he was gone.

Her limbs felt like lead and her head was just booming and throbbing with pain. Cries and shouts filled her ears but they sounded so far away and distorted as if she were underwater. Slowly, light entered her vision and the frantic shouts grew increasingly in volume. Her eyes now open from the realm of darkness, her heart all but stopped when she saw Lucifer on his back on the floor of a hospital room with a crowd of doctors and nurses around him screaming at the others to get more of the necessary drugs and get a room ready.

A loud, long beep droned on, a flatline seen on the monitor of the defibrillator pack, and tears filled her eyes as fear, concern, and confusion all mixed into one stressful concoction swirled inside her. His shirt that he so prided in was ripped open and Chloe could see the pads on his chest as one of the staff pumped his chest.


A jolt. A spike. A flatline again.

“Starting compressions!”

“Give him epinephrine now!”

Chloe could only stare down horrified at the man she loved, the same man who was still inappropriate beyond belief but is so sweet and kind to her, the very same man who died for her in that airport hangar, the same man who always had her back and had then put her needs first before his own. 

Lucifer was dead. Dead.

“Raise the charge to 300J!”


A heart-breaking keen turned grief-stricken scream filled the air, shocking all the occupants except for the still man on the floor, and Chloe wondered where it was coming from. Only then did she realize it was her.

Originally posted by perpetuallrh

Sunsets & False Platonic Love: Part 5


If anyone was wondering


Putting my car in park, I slumped back in my chair and breathed a sigh of…well, I don’t really know what I’m feeling at the moment.

 I guess you can say I don’t know what emotion is safe to be felt. Does that make sense? Like, with the dozens of topsy-turvy feelings bouncing around my stomach, I don’t know which one will be knocked in my face the hardest when I hop out of this car to attempt the seemingly impossible.

 The safest and realest I could pick out at the moment had to be, awkwardness. More so, on my part but you get my drift. I really don’t know what he will be feeling once I bang on his door but the only way the unknown will be revealed is by me getting out of this fucking car and boarding that elevator. I swear this feels like I’m walking into my planned death or something.

 Moving my eyes away from the blackened dashboard, I turned them towards the condominium towering over the mass of architecture surrounding it, still finding the strength in me to praise the design of the building. I’d always loved the bright, eccentric, sleek surface of it and the futuristic taste that it exuded. Condominiums weren’t usually my thing–besides the fact that I just couldn’t afford living in one–but this particular complex Larry had picked out about a year ago spoke to me in ways I’d never imagined. I remember when he first texted me a picture of the lease he’d signed. I was ecstatic until I found out it was in the heart of upper West Side Manhattan. I would think Larry would be the type to settle in a nice Brooklyn brownstone in Williamsburg but then again, he always liked to be in the middle of all the excitement. His location provided more than he needed so, it was a great choice, I guess.

 I was happy for him. Loved everything about the place when he gave me a little tour that same weekend.

 Except for the fucking parking but that’s beside the point.

 The place defined him and his passionate way of designing and trendsetting what he thought represented him. That’s why I didn’t get a peep out when it came to setting everything up. The place was huge and empty when we first walked through it and I had suggested he get an interior designer but of course, the stubborn bunny refused my thought even before I could fully deliver.

 Not surprisingly, he’d had everything under control. It was like he’d developed the vision in his head way before he even stepped into the condo. This went here and that went there. That went on that. And, this went on this. I stood back the majority of the time and watched in awe as this man, who at one time didn’t know a slick of English, ordered these American men around like he’d been here his whole life. When it was time for the carriers to leave, Larry kept at it to the point where he exhausted himself. Or…to the point where he was tired of Laurent’s bickering about him needing rest. He wanted to finish what he started as quickly as possible–which is what he usually does–so with him being so impulsive he drained himself. He’d been going all day with nothing but a banana and a Sprite in his system from that morning so it didn’t take that long to convince him into bed.

 Well…into couch.

 All it took was a simple pull of the arm, a cuddle, and soon he was resting against my chest, his snores light.

 Laurent left soon after but not without leaving me with one of his snarky comments. He’s a man of many words so I didn’t take the sly remark to heart as he poked fun at our relationship like he always did. Idiot.

 "My brother usually leave his condoms in his top drawer.“

 The fun ended with a scowl from me and a flick of my favorite finger.

 The one he always told me to stick up Larry’s ass and the one I always told him would be down his throat with all the others bundled in a fist if he didn’t quit.

 To this day, he refuses despite my threats. And, to this day, my heart warms to muck every time he acknowledges my draw to Larry and vice versa. To be accepted by one twin is a goal but being accepted by both when you have some sort of heightened feeling for the other is close to a miracle.

 Not saying…that feeling is so high.

 Fuck, who am I kidding?

 The feeling has skyrocketed out of the damn atmosphere. It’s standing on Saturn. It can hopscotch on Jupiter and then belly flop on Pluto. There’s no use in lying to myself when it comes to the urge I have for Larry…and his body…and his face…and his mind…and just about his everything.

 Doing that is like saying I like Laurent.

 That was a cute joke, right? I know. I crack myself up.


 When it all comes down to it, me feeling things for Larry, it’s a done deal. I am head-over-heels for this guy. He’s reeled me in. I’m no longer with the fishes in that ambient sea of searchers of love. I am tossing in the rag. Putting up the white flag. Coming clean.

 This will be the night I walk up to that man and tell him straight and narrow what he means to me and how much I value him in my life. Just come out with it and tell him all of my concerns and cautions. I’m going in headfirst. No more games. No more rounding that bush of truth. You see that problem? I’m going to fix that problem. You hear me.


 Watch it happen.




 His voice was at an unreadable tone but the heaviness of his chest that showed as he sighed told me either he was frustrated, nervous, or relieved. I clouded my thoughts knowing my pessimistic nature would pick the worse of the three.

 We stood there for what seemed like forever but I occupied myself with reading him. Or trying to anyway. The workings of his countenance always tell at least of tinge of something he’s feeling so I took a chance as I studied his features for the first time in a while.

 His eyebrows rose, wrinkling his forehead, making his eyes widen and his nose unknowingly flare. His tongue poked slightly from between his lips before he paused with the choice of attention and then slowly retreated the flesh, his bottom lip following. His facial hair stretched on his chin as his skin followed the movements of his mouth and I mentally told myself to redirect my notice to his cheekbones that provided the 24-hour show I’d missed this pass week. Since he’s so expressive, I’ve always gotten joy out of watching his mannerisms come alive. Whether it was his jaw clenching or his cheekbones rolling under his skin, I never failed to appreciate the sight of his facial makeup. Even now as he stares at me with the least amount of manner I’ve ever seen grace his beautiful features, I praise his chiseled beauty.

 Okay. We went over this in the car. Next step.


 Opening my mouth, I felt my jaw tick as it gaped and then clamped shut.

 To speak…you have to use your vocal chords, Lionne. Got it? Okay. Lets try again.

 Second trail.


 "Is this a bad time?”

 Bam. Step one. Check. You’ve done it. Great start.

 Internally praising myself, I blinked at his still undetectable expression.

 Sucking air between my teeth, I stepped back. “It’s a bad time, isn’t it?”

 Suddenly his face lit up with realization. A second later, he was reaching out to me, his fingers nearly choking the life from my bicep. “No, no.” He almost shouted. “You uh…you not come at bad time. Is just that I uh-” He lowered his head before poking it out to peer down the hall and then tugging me in. “Come on.”

 My body nearly flew into his vacancy as he yanked me inside then proceeded to reach behind me and close the door. Since he was so close, I could smell the lingering musky scent of perspiration mixed with his usual cologne. The concoction was heavenly even if I only experienced it for a split second. I cursed that my whole body had to express its agreement with the commencement of sweaty hands and the spiked jolts that jutted down my spine. I restrained myself from shivering against him the best that I could, explaining my hands ending up on his chiseled stomach. My reaction to the unexpected feel of his sculpted abdomen made me want to stab myself since he peered down at me with the most amused and bewildered look he could hinder in response.

 Chuckling slightly, I backed into the door a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

 Before I could say anything more, he grabbed my hands and slammed them back on their prior place. I internally screamed as he rubbed my palms over his–covered–abs and then greeted me with his eyes through his lashes. “I work out more now. You notice?”

 Nodding, I snatched my hands back and rounded him. “Yes…I most definitely did, Larry.”

 He innocently grinned before nodding himself. “You hungry? I make something.”

 My mouth hung open as I watched the same guy who had walked out on me a week ago, denying my want for contact, smile in my face like nothing had sprouted between us in the past week. He was prancing around like everything was cool. Like I was just coming by for a visit and he hadn’t intended on fucking me a half of a fortnight ago.

 The scenery I was presented with took my attention as I tiptoed my way into his complex. The smell of his cooking whiffed past my nose first, making chills align my spine in sporadic taps. He was making one of his favorite dishes.

 Jerk chicken with mango cilantro salsa.

 The enchanting pull that the scent had with my nose was more than the smell but flashing memories configured by my lovely taste buds. Larry had made this for me more than once before in the past. I was his taste tester when he first tried it out actually. We declared that it was meant for him since he got it on the first try, his progression every time he prepared it afterwards unbelievable. He found it suitable to add his Mama’s jerk chicken recipe to the mix. After the add-on, the dish became my number one priority for…life. Yes, it’s that good.

 As I licked my lips of excess drool, I realized how hot it was. Once I pulled my tongue back into my mouth, the feeling of hell itself consumed me and I found my hands peeling off the cardigan I’d thrown over my exposed arms and chest back in the car. Fixing my spaghetti strap, I crossed my arms over my uncovered breast and took a step forward onto the plush white carpet. The second my platform hit the floor, a symphony of harmonies commenced and so did the chills.

 Oh and I can’t forget Larry’s scream of approval in terms of the song selection that blasted through his Beats Pill. I searched the room for the device, frowning as I found the reason for Ne-Yo’s falsetto voice blasting throughout the Wall-of Sound-method designed house lying face up on the coffee table.

 I cursed under my breath as the bass dropped and I recognized the tune immediately. Of course slow R&B comes on exactly when I walk in the door.

 I could be tired…

 She’ll wake me up with it…

Pressing my lips together, I eyed his frame as he walked through the kitchen, pulling necessities out and throwing other used items back where they belonged. Only when he began to cut some vegetables was when I noticed he had nothing but a thin, white V-neck that was as see through as my chill facade I was trying to get by and as loose as…that was a bad metaphor. Never mind. It was just loose. That’s it.

 His shoulder blades moved so fluently under the fabric–would you be mad at me if I said he was directly on beat with the blaring music—as his shoulder rose and rested making me swallow and turn towards his spacey living room. The lounging place has the world’s best view of the city since people who create condos just don’t like the thought of single windows meant for short curtains. It’s a good and a bad thing, in the owner’s case, since Larry loves scenery but he also loves his privacy. There have been countless times where he’s dragged me into his bedroom due to his claim of “the nosy city people watch him.”

 I smiled at the night view walking up to the window and pressing my warm hands to the frigid glass. Dropping my bag, I exhaled before turning and instantly catching eye of my enemy’s enemy that was surely winning the argument I was having against my conscience with its blaring sounds.

 She know what she doing…

 She know what that does…

 Every time she do it…

 Set it off no matter what…

 "Li.“ I shot my head towards the shouting voice, seeing Larry’s eyes glaring at my feet. Nodding, he mouthed over the music, "Your shoes.”

 It took me a minute to realize his intention but when I did I didn’t hesitate to abide. “Oh.” I piped, colliding on the floor to unstrap my heels.

 The boy wanted white carpet for his living room when he first moved in. The first time Laurent came over he took off his shoes at the door claiming it was proper for a fancy house like his brother’s and from then on Larry’s been making people remove their shoes every time they come into his home. It also has to do with their slight obsession with Japanese culture but for the most part Larry only took interest in it because of his brother’s doing.

 Getting up, I brushed my slacks off and looked his way before starting for the entrance. “You know to put them by the-”

 "Front door! Yeah, I got you.“

 I heard the clank of silverware making me stop in my tracks and turn back to him and his now dry scowl that crumpled his face in the cutest way possible.

 "What?” I questioned, slowly placing down my Saint Laurent ankle straps.

 "Is not front doooor!“ He whined.

 Huffing, I placed my head in one of my hands. "I’m sorry, Larry. I’ll place it in front of the genkan!”

 The preppy grin that crossed between his cheeks told me he was satisfied with my apology and correction. Annoyance.

 Genkan means entranceway in Japanese.

 Yeah. Slight obsession.

 "Laurent get me Japanese plant. Is over there!“ I looked in the direction he pointed, instantly catching sight of the…leaves. The real decor relied on the vase that held the tiny plant; the color of it being a nice white washy pastel while the Japanese writing in the middle of it was a red tint.

 "He bought it for you? That’s different.” I poked my lip.


 She tell me things like…

Things like I’m her favorite flavor…

 I rolled my eyes, eyeing the pill and then cupping my mouth. "I said it’s weird that he brought it for you! I wouldn’t expect it!”

 He made an “oh” shape with his mouth before twisting his features.

 "No! He have it and I take it!“ He shrugged. "Same!”

 I smiled and nodded, leaving him to his work.

 He looks heavenly. When I say heavenly, I mean like tall, tapered, thirst trap worthy, Adonis heavenly. I should be sensible but with him looking like…this and Ne-Yo being his wingman my initial reason of coming here is starting to fade with all my morals and friend code and fuck shit I’ve been stressing over for the past few days. All of it is being washed away by the sweat trapping his skin to his back and his flexing shoulder blades and broad deltoids. His lengthy neck that strains at the sides every time he throws something in his mouth to sample or rid of because of his animated chewing. I could only imagine what his lips and mouth looked like. His moving jaw gained most of my attention as he stretched his mouth every which way, flexing the voluntary muscle with exuberant movements. I shouldn’t have but I risked my cover as I tilted myself to take a gander at his profile. I rested all my weight on my right foot so I could hop over some. All I caught sight of was his beady eyes shooting an innocent glance my way.

 Furrowing his brows, he turned back to his veggies. “You watching me?” He asked.

 Shaking my head, I stuttered, “Uh- Um- No. I was just trying to see what you were…you know.”

 He cheesed as he lifted the cutting board and pushed the pale squares into the tiny auburn bowl that I just now noticed held a mixture of cool colors.

 Looking back up at me, he reached for one of the mangoes that sat in front of him. “Oh.” And, with that he looked back down.

 My eyes followed his action finding his bottom half dressed in some black jeans. When I moved back up his frame I stopped at the one place–and worse place–I knew would be exposed. His ass. Since his shirt was sticking to him, I could clearly see his deep arch. His pout derriere poked from his pants covered by black boxer briefs, which just exaggerated the curve more being that it was battling against the contrast. I almost moaned as I looked away from the beautiful sight, physically shaking the imagery from my mind.

 When my eyes hit the side of his face, I heard a familiar melody convulse against my skin again, just making more goose bumps spread this time around. As expected, Ne-Yo was back for a visit a second time around.

 Doing a double take, I looked back to Larry’s growing grin as he began to lightly sway his hips. “Didn’t we just listen to-”

 "I like this song.“ He shrugged, popping a cube of mango into his mouth before placing the cut fruit on the side and grabbing one of the other two that waited for him.

 I should’ve expected it. Larry could kill a song. Literally. He could dead the song in about a week with how much he plays that one selection he likes over and over and over again. I’ve ended up hating countless tunes because of his presence.

 I’m sure this one will be added to my list.

 I exhaled as he slowly circled his hips to the melody, his shirt flapping with his tiny rotations. His shoulders moved in sync with the orbit of his pelvis and his mouth poked while he lowly whistled the song between teeth. I probably looked somewhat stupid standing there and drinking him in but shit, at least give me an exception. Who wouldn’t?

 "You watching me, Lionne.” He sang, lowly, the scratch of his voice going with the rhythm of the song. I swallowed as his vibrato tickled his vocal chords before looking away and preparing to walk towards the window again. The only thing I was doing by standing in his space was making a fool out of myself. I wasn’t helping anything or solving any problems or easing any tensions. To be honest, I was broadening the one thing I came to subside. My attraction to him and his swaying ass hips.

 His eyes followed me as I tried to scurry but of course he caught me before I even took a second step. “Li Li.” He squeaked.

 "Hmm?“ I turned to find his glare traveling my frame. His eyes almost shredded the black exterior of the sheer, spaghetti strap, crop top I sported today. I could feel the sensitive skin of my arms begin to exude tiny beads of sweat as he lowered his stare to my high-waisted slouch trousers. The fluff of the pants was supposed to disguise my sizable thighs but by the way his tongue poked when he regarded them told me the designer had done everything but the promised job. The few seconds seemed like a 3:00 minute long music video since falsetto singing ass Ne-Yo decided it would be suitable to harmonize with his angelic voice in the background.

 I cleared my throat as I felt my legs beginning to compress themselves. "Yes, Larry?”

 His stare shot up to mine before he did double take with the items in front of him, my thighs, and then my face again. I raised a brow, a small smirk on my lips.

 "Désolé…“ He pressed his lips together. "Those pants look nice for you! Um…” The sight of his cutting board seemed to spark his memory. “You want to mince for me?”

 My brows furrowed as his voice drowned out behind the music. “What?!”

 He nodded, smiling at my hard of hearing. Jerking his head, he gestured for me to come closer.

 "I saaaaay,“ His voice dimmed the closer I got to his workstation. Lifting his knife, he poked his lips at appliance. "You want to help with the mince?”

 "What’s that?“

 He rolled his eyes leaning closer to my ear. "Chef say mince. You say cut.” Holding an imaginary vegetable…or fruit on the cutting board, he began to flick his wrist that held the granton blade, demonstrating. “Is easy.”

 His smell hit me again as he turned me with his wrists on either sides of my arms causing me to instinctively inhale. The blessed take-in made my body wiggle in delight and Larry to look at me with perplexed features a tiny stifle of laugh escaping him. That’s when I realized my mistake. His body heat hit me from behind as his hands curled against my hips and he pushed me closer to the counter. My slightly exposed midriff brushed the ceramic kitchen appliance and almost sent me flying back into his waiting chest but his grip on me tightened before I could react.

 The position was too familiar and almost sent me in a panic but once I noticed his pelvis at a good distance, I looked up to an unfamiliar innocent smile. His hands softly caressed the sides of my torso as he grinned down at me before he thrummed his fingertips across the wet skin and then casually removed them.  

 My eyes widened as he giggled down at me, shaking his head. “Never freak out like this with me again, okay?”

 My mouth gaped as he went for the knife in front of our aligned bodies. “Is like you don’t think I can control myself. Relax, Li. If I want your clothes off, they would be by the door.” I huffed at his statement. “I control myself for like 3 years already. I can take when you stand in front of me. I not gonna attack you. Now come.” His hand hit the front of my stomach sending me colliding into his body.

 I screeched as his pelvis brushed my ass. “Larry…you’re hard.” I chuckled. “You just gave me this whole speech on controlling yourself and you’re hard.”

 As he peeled the mango, he shrugged, nonchalantly. “Give me break. I a man.”

 I burst out laughing, doubling over in body shaking chortles as I felt his chest hum against my back telling me he’d joined in.

 "I can’t control everything.“

 Nodding, I sighed. "I know what you mean.”

 "You do?“ He grinned at me and then turned back to the mango in his hand. Grabbing my right, he placed it on the handle of the knife and put his broad palm over mine. "Tell me then. You always tell me we can’t do this and do that but you never tell me how I make you feel.”

 I shrugged. “Because that usually leads to sex. Have you ever heard of sexual tension? The shit builds up like wildfire.”

 He shrugged. “It better than when you keep it box in. That what happen before, right?” Nudging my face with his, he urged me to begin mincing. “You know. Last week in your bathroom.”

 My body shivered with the mention of the moment. He chuckled behind me. “Damn. Was I that good?” I nudged his stomach with an elbow just making him laugh more. “Okay. I sorry. But that what happen?”

 I shrugged. “I guess so. At least on my part, ignoring the feeling just made me want you more.” Looking down, I exhaled as he turned the cut pieces of mango for me so I could cut down the long slices. “I really wish you wouldn’t have pushed me like that. It wasn’t fair.”

 "Oh. So, you can make me wait more?“ He shook his head. "Fuck that. It my turn to be selfish.”

 "You’re talking like our relationship only thrives off of you wanting to get in my pants.“

 "Li, don’t. And, you talking like our relationship only at a friend level.”

 I clicked my tongue. “I’m not being selfish, Larry. I’m looking out for you and your well being. I don’t want you to get mixed in with my shitty relationship skills.”

 "You not suppose to make the choice for me. I make my own choice who I want to be with. Not you.“

 "But if you already see a storm coming, you wouldn’t at least warn someone and try to prevent them from getting caught in it?”

 He shrugged, “I warn. But I don’t stop. I let people make they own choice and you wrong for not doing that. Is like you don’t trust that I keep you satisfied or something.”

 I stopped cutting and placed the knife down. Looking at his tightened profile, I widened my eyes slightly. “You think that’s what I’m trying to say?” I asked. “You really think that’s my intention? To make you feel like I don’t think you would keep me satisfied?”

 He shrugged, before pulling his buff over his mouth and picking up the knife himself.

 "Is that why you did what you did last week?“

 "Non.” He mumbled.

 Turning, I leaned my back on the counter and crossed my arms. Planting my feet between his, I raised a brow. “Really?” Sucking my teeth, I searched around him before catching eye of the remote to the Beats Pill. Reaching for it, I pushed his body back to grab it and then pulled him close again. Turning Ne-Yo off, I crossed my arms back. “Really, Larry?”

 Pulling down his buff, he shook his head. “No.”

 "Then, why was that night any different from any other time that we found ourselves in that position?“

 He shrugged. "I want you. So, I have you.”

 "We didn’t go all the way.“

 "That don’t matter to me. I just wanna see you like that because I start to think I never have you intimately. So I…I take it. It selfish, I know but…I don’t know I just want to see it at least once.”

 I watched his eyes lower to my chest as he voiced his insecurities and contributed his confessions. I would think it’d be weird to see him like this since he could have any girl he wanted but I totally understood where he was coming from so the abnormal take of it didn’t really register with me as much as the relatable side did.

 Squinting at him, I breathed. “Larry. Do you really think I believe you wouldn’t satisfy me?”

 He sighed. “Is not only with sex, Li. This is not only for sex. Is more than that. Sometime I don’t think you think you can rely on me or I can support you because I a dancer and I away for so long. And, sometime I think you don’t see how much I really care for you and how I do anything to make you happy. Is like you think I don’t satisfy you because you scared of what happen next with us and you worry for if I be there for you or not or-”

 "If I’ll be there for you.“ I added.

 He nodded. "And, now that I do what I do last week is like you even more scared and I don’t want that, Lionne. I never want you to be scared of me.” His head shook as he flopped his arms on both sides of his body. “I want you to watch sunsets with me and then let me hear the third reason why you curse ‘till the next one starts.”

 I chuckled as he smiled down at me. It’s amazing how he never fails to forget a single thing told to him.

 "Sex is just the only place we don’t visit with each other yet. That why it come up so much. I don’t just want your body for sex I want to show that I can nurture you. I want to show that I not just here to get in your pants, I here because I take you serious and I want to build things with you. I want to make you smile, Li.“ He edged closer to me, his hands going for my torso again. This time his touch ignited a different feel. The last was to soothe, this one was to gently encourage and convince. "I want you because I know I can satisfy you. Because I know you can satisfy me. You just really scared that it don’t work out but I tell you it will. I say before I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

 "Larry, I’ve never been scared of you.“ Pulling him closer, I made sure our convergence was nonexistent. I needed him to believe my words so we needed contact. His sheepish eyes flashed with weariness as he looked down at our connected pelvises making me internally frown. "Hello. Do you hear me?” Leaning down, I caught his eyes as I reached for his limp buff. “I have no reason to be. I was just scared of what I was capable of. Don’t get my insecurities confused with what I think of you.” I peeped, circling his tiny waist with my arms. I watched as his hand reached for one of my locks so he could play with the knotted strand. I smiled as he twisted it between his nimble fingers, getting lost in the brown, auburn, and blonde color. “Never think I’m hesitant about us because of you. You would be such a great boyfriend, Larry. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I would…feel like I couldn’t amount because you’re so caring and genuine. That’s why I just leave it to me staring at you all the time.” I chuckled, but my lips still formed into an incessant frown.

 "Why stare when you can have me?“ I sighed, inwardly as he traced something on the skin of my chest with my hair. His fingers grazed the surface of my cleavage burning my insides and branding my better judgment. "Huh?”

 "B-because…“ My reasoning wasn’t existent. My lip quivered and he instantly noticed making me mentally curse the involuntary effect he had on my voluntary limps. “Uh…”

 "Exactly.” He quipped, raising a brow. “Il ne devrait pas y avoir une explication. (There shouldn’t be an explanation.)”

 I could feel my hands bundling his shirt in a tight fist as he leaned down and pecked my lips, suddenly, the action only half expected on my part. My lips obeyed his as he slowly consumed them and their inability to say no to his hypnotizing commands. I could taste the eccentric mango on his mouth making me poke his lips with my tongue in search for more of what he could offer and as he opened, promising me an entrance, I suddenly regretted my impulsive action. His tongue collided into mine and almost made my jaw freeze up with how good he tasted. I whimpered as he pivoted his head and his cheeks vacuumed with mine when our wet fleshes curled around each other’s and wrestled like our lives depended on it. We let the essence of the moment cradle us as the silence filled with passionate licks and smacks. There was no groping. Just desperate tongue lashing against one another with a hope for some feeling of satisfaction.

 But none came when he pulled away. Even if we were both out of breath and our bodies toppled. Our bodies called for more and our beady eyes and piercing expressions told it all. That sultry kiss didn’t subside any longing, aching want we had for each other. It just broadened it.

 So, when I found myself on the kitchen counter–everything tossed off the island–seconds later with his mango tasting tongue lunged down my throat again, I didn’t hesitate to abide to his physical commands. His hands nearly suffocated my thighs, as he possessed my mouth. The long, aggressive strokes of his palms and fingers matched his slithering flesh that explored my cavity with just as much strength causing my stomach to tighten in longing. My breathing latched onto the heat of the moment every few seconds making me grab his cheeks to at least gain some type of control but the gruffly grip didn’t help any since Larry’s dominant kisses totally swirled me into a pit of him. I loved how he slowed himself down to record anything my swollen tongue performed against his and then used it against me never not getting a moan of pleasure in response. Every time the sound escaped me he would flinch or grunt in my hold as my nails traveled down his broad back and returned. His spacey palms had no restrictions or rules with their quick grabs. He would be at my thighs one minute, my hips the next, and then my breasts. Every time he went for my ass, he would remember what it occupied causing him to groan in disapproval and settle for a different asset.

 My stomach simmered in the complete vulgarity occurring, as the pool in my panties made its entrance along with the throbbing that always seemed to pay a visit when Larry was around. I’d shut my conscience off with its annoying ass morals and bickering a long time ago, giving into the lustful sinner side of myself. I couldn’t control what was inevitable and what my body involuntarily allowed to show and all I wanted was relief for exactly that.

 I needed him.

 That’s the only thing that ran its way across the darkness of my closed eyelids and I would do anything to appeal to it.

 So, when my hands went for the hem of his shirt and began to move their way up to discard of the fabric, I had no second thoughts about it. And, Larry didn’t either.

 As he pulled off the rest of his V-neck and threw it to the side, I let my hair down and went for the sheer top that had been sticking to my torso since I stepped inside the warm room. I saw flashes of his glistening skin move over my view, his pigment almost matching the half bra I wore and instantly thanked God for the ink embedded in his pores. I wanted my mouth on them. I wanted to trace every curve and coil that graced my pupils but Larry seemed to have other plans as he went for my belt buckle.

 I smiled as he slowly kissed my lips and then dragged his tongue down the salty skin of my neck. “You’re so nasty.” I quivered, as he leaned down to my chest and sucked the beads of sweat that trickled down and between my breasts.

 He grinned pecking his way back to my strained neck and softly biting my spot. The rough pull promised a slice of air between my teeth before I let out his well-deserved cracked plea of pleasure.

 "Vous n'avez pas encore rien vu. (You’ve seen nothing yet.)“ He cautioned, finally undoing my pants and dragging them down my damp legs.

 His dialect was foreign to me but that was no longer my priority as he grabbed beneath my thighs and pushed me back onto the counter. The squeak of the ceramic piece against my skin spoke volumes about how much sweat had secreted its way from my pores but I didn’t care. I was too busy watching Larry’s hands landscape my stomach towards my breasts. With my ankles rested on his shoulders, he could see everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. He wasn’t ashamed either. His eyes almost darted their way through my puddled panties as he bumped his pelvis against the spot. I bit my lip watching him marvel at his work.

 "You get like this…for me?” He asked, rubbing his clothed erection against my covered, but swollen clitoris.

 I nodded, weakly, exhaling out as he gripped my clammy thighs. “Just for you, Larry.” I spoke, feebly.

 "Can I?“ I looked up at the innocent glint in his chocolate orbs, frowning as he moved his palms back and forth on my thickness.

 I felt horrible knowing all those times he’d asked before were all but playful even if they were apart of his seductive nature as well. He really wanted my permission to go forth with what he was doing–with owning my body because he was scared I would take it away from him later on.

 I suddenly felt like I had something to prove as I lifted my upper half and reached behind me. My nude bra fell to my stomach sending a chill over my now exposed bosom despite the smoldering room. He watched my lip seep between my teeth as he stared into me before directing his attention to my ample gifts. I almost cried when he tickled his way up my stomach and tossed my bra to the ground. The undergarment laid lack against his shirt that had fell in a spread puddle of oil he’d been using for his kitchen time. To think his initial thoughts were stationed on devouring jerk chicken and mango tonight. Now, all he seemed to care about was devouring the most sensitive places of my body his stomach growling in libidinous need. From the way my toes curled in something close to angst but then again sweet desire told me I was in nothing but agreement with it.

 "Larry, I want you to touch me.” I whispered, lowering my hand between my legs and slowly circling my waiting bud. Goosebumps high fived the many nerves in my skin, sending convulsions sparking against my tissue. Laying my back on the counter again, I whimpered, “Please.”

 His nails began to dig their way into the insides of my thighs as he admired my pleasure before one set of sweltering fingertips disappeared. Every time my fingers moved along my throbbing flesh, I could feel my body waver in and out of consciousness. It was like an out-of-body experience as I felt my limbs numbing but at the same time his burning stare and grip, building.

 With my eyes closed shut, I pleaded again, “Please, Larry. I’ve waited so long for this. Stop watching and fucking touch me.”

 "Just keep going.“ He grunted, suddenly. His voice sounded too haggard to be his normal husk. Slowly opening my eyes, I caught sight of his long neck and his bopping Adam’s apple first before I noticed his head thrown back in a hanging position.

 I could see his bicep tensing from the corner of my eye, his veins bulging with the slow pulsing and contracting action. Traveling down his artistically dressed arm, my mouth gaped as I noticed what he was doing.

 "Li, please don’t stop.” He moaned out the plea, his lips pouting. “Fuck.”

 His hand caressed his member in long, leisurely strokes as he huffed out sporadic breaths that had no particular rhythm. I was almost stupefied by the way he flicked his wrist due to the length of it with no intention of stopping. I could feel the envious side of myself brewing with intensity.

 "Lionne, you killing me.“

 "That’s my job.” I groaned, pouting at his handled situation.

 "Baby, just let me have this, okay?“

 I huffed as he gripped my wrist–with his dick-free hand–and placed my hand back onto my sensitive mound. Even the slightest touch promised a range of bumps to sprout on my skin.

 "I want it afterwards.” I peeped, slowly beginning to pleasure myself. “Say I can have it.” I moaned out, arching my back and biting my lip to contain the whimpers that latched against my throat immediately.

 "You can have it.“ He growled.

 I could hardly focus on myself as I watched the beautiful sight in front of me come to life. I’d never thought I’d see the day where Larry worked himself right in front of my eyes while I laid half naked on his kitchen island but here I was. He seemed so concentrated as he moved his hand over the thick flesh, his brow distorted and his lip snarling in pressured pleasure. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed every time he whistled his approval of vulgarity almost sent me on edge and the way his body tensed when the veins that decorated his dick throbbed almost propelled me over. The beads of sweat that rested on his forehead. The way his brows coiled. The way his lips poked. And, the way his large hand landscaped his erection.

 I couldn’t take the detailed scene and pleasure myself at the same time. It would send me overboard and I would come before I could even get another word out. So, instead, I just watched him and slowly circled my mound staring into his chocolate eyes, mine glinting with want and desire.

 "What are you doing?” He asked, looking down at me.

 I shrugged. “Admiring you.”

 He huffed a chuckle. “You so weird, Li.”

 I grinned as I lowered my legs from his shoulders and propped myself on my knees so we were eye level. Grabbing his wrist, I eyed him as I removed his hand from his pulsing sex.

 "Let me have it.“

 I kissed his lips as I gripped him and slowly began to move down his shaft and returning back to his head. When he tried to look down, I kissed him again, moaning into his mouth as my teeth clamped on his bottom lip.

 "Oh shit.” He groaned, making me giggle as he watched my tongue dip into him from under his lashes.

 My hand flicked along his length squeezing and then stroking him with diligence. The grunt that escaped him next approved of my work down below.

 Pecking his lips, I pulled away so he could peek. “And, you say I nasty.” He grinned, smoothing his hands over my thighs and then diving down my lower back to grip my rotund ass.

 I could feel his hand pulling my panties aside so he could dip his fingers into my warmth. His touch made me squirm.

 "You are.“ I raised a brow. "You licked the sweat off my skin, man.”

 He chuckled, before biting his lip and grunting as I picked up speed. “And, I do it a-again.” His eyes ducked down to my waiting breasts as he dug his way between my compressed thighs.

 I obeyed and widened the narrow space between my sizable flesh all while watching him near my left bust.  It was like I wasn’t even giving him a hand job as he laid his mouth on my chest and twirled his tongue around my pointed nibble his breaths pretty much even and that stupid, arrogant smirk of his more than present.

 The same time he licked was the same time his finger brushed my clit making me unintentionally squeeze him in my hand. Everything blurred as we both moaned in growing, husky indulgence.

 "Wider.“ He ordered, patting my inner thigh with a hand.

 I abided immediately, stretching my sensitive skin as he went for my breast again. I could feel his throat humming against my stomach as I searched for whatever oxygen I had left and whatever relief that could brush past us in the heat of the room. It almost felt like I was melting onto him with how much sweat clothed my body.

 "You so warm.” He mumbled into my bosom before kissing his way to my right bust. “So warm and meaty and beautiful.”

 I chuckled as I felt him circle my opening. Clutching his hair, I forced his head away from my chest to gain his notice. “Did you just say I was meaty?-” My question was cut with a soft moan as he entered my aching entrance. I dipped my head into his wild tresses, groaning in pleasure as he pushed and pulled with his majestic fingers.

 Looking up, he extended his neck so he could kiss me tenderly. “You remember this?”

 I could feel him wiggling himself inside of my sheath. It was like he was digging for gold with the way he plowed into me over and over again, his pace speeding up by the second. I could feel my juices glossing his hand with every pump he delivered making me cry for more. My hips naturally swirled against his penetrations basically fending for themselves since I had no control over the movement. It was almost as if Larry’s actions teased the fuck out of my limbs to the point where they abided to his physical commands.

 "L-Larry.“ I spluttered, throwing my head back as he leaned up to plant sweet kisses all over my heated neck.

 My hand clutched his dick in hopes that it would give me some kind of control but I only got a snarl and nothing more. That didn’t work in my favor since his teeth latched down on my skin the second I gripped his manhood causing me to yelp in hurtful pleasure.

 Deciding to match his rhythm, I tensed my arm and began channeling his fingers.

 Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

 In and out. In and out. In and out.

 Both of our throats filled with longing wails and grunts as we looked for satisfaction from each other, in each other, and for each other. What fueled him fueled me causing us to butt heads in the aspect of control and sensuous dominance. The loud breaths and inhalations were evidence of exactly that and the broad exhales and partial screams wrote chapter books on our skin of how great this felt. To think an hour ago I was configuring a way out of this invitation to paradise. To this sexual relief that had been growing between us for so long. My body doubled its senses and my emotions tripled their affective state making this ten times more pleasurable than I initially thought it would be. I was on Cloud 9 with the way his hands fished their way across my skin and how naturally we grooved into each other’s sexual fantasies because we were each other’s sexual fantasies. Everything seemed surreal as we neared our finish, our hands working ten times harder to get our sex partner to the point before the other.

 It was like a race but with sexual organs thrown in there. To be honest, that’s the best kind.

 "Li, come for me.”

 I refused to look into his piercing eyes as he pleaded for me to give in first. My whole body was ready to throw in the bucket to his command but the organ pulsating in my hand convinced me otherwise.

 "You’re almost there.“ I strained.

 "Baby, you dripping.” He tried to throw a laugh in there, but my hold on him was too much. The second he opened his to deliver the sound a heavenly earful of weak grunts escaped him, making me shiver in victory.

 I grinned before shaking the hair from my face. “You alright there, buddy?”

 He kissed his teeth, peering up at my noticeable breathing that took over the entirety of my chest. “You so difficult.”

 I could feel his thumb nearing my clit making my eyes widen. He knew my body almost to a tea, I swear. Shaking my head, I peered down at him almost moaning when I noticed the sultry look he was giving me. Closing my eyes and clenching my teeth, I reached for his balls, the same time his finger flattened my distended bud. The mesmerizing jolt of pleasure that rocketed in my stomach erupted a piercing scream from my strained vocals as the rasp scratched my throat. I jerked against the counter as my juices washed his hands in result ecstasy–the ceramic piece underneath getting a taste of me as well. My orgasm flooded my hearing and blurred my vision as my eyes rolled before my whole body gave out leaving my limbs limp, relaxed, and my thighs numbing. Everything seemed so surreal for a split second as Larry’s fingers tickled my insides riding out my bust before he too came, his cum shots staining my legs and a good part of the counter. I could feel my cheeks heating as I looked down at the sight. My dripping mound had already formed a puddle and for him to liberate his load in the exact same place as I watched with baited breaths embarrassed me despite it being his kitchen.

 I blinked as he came down from his high, eyeing his still hard penis and then traveling along the thin but muscly frame I’d just been touching.

 His voice brought me back. “You love to stare.” He giggled. When I noticed what occupied his mouth, I compressed my legs feeling my wetness commence again.

 His tongue was landscaping his two fingers that had been tucked in my fleshy warmth just minutes ago. My lips parted slightly as I trailed my eyes along the lines my juices created down his forearm that stopped at his elbow. I swallowed as he sucked the remaining trickles of…me before giving me his regard again. “You wanna taste?” He beamed.

 I huffed as he neared my lips letting me kiss his teeth before he gripped my thighs and licked my tongue. I couldn’t take the euphoric feeling that buzzed against my skin, as I tasted myself on him. My vag jumped in response making me whimper on his mouth and then pulsed again weakening my legs to the point where they involuntarily wobbled.

 He kissed me once more before looking down at my shaking legs and then returning his gaze back to my burning face with a bewildered brow but also an interested smirk.

 "Don’t.“ I ordered, pulling him back. "You think this is a game.” I giggled, smiling as he took the initiative to comfort my unreliable legs with his plush lips.

 "Maybe.“ He slyly grinned at me before kissing my sensitive flesh again. "But I don’t think…you do.”

 I looked down to find his eyes darting straight towards my widening mound. His hands pushed my thighs outward so he could get a better look at my oozing womanhood. I felt like hiding as I watched him marvel. It wasn’t natural for me to feel embarrassed in bed–well, on counter–since I was usually the one in Larry’s place. Hovering over the desired. Drooling over the wanted. I was the one in charge. The one that usually left their sexual partner dazed in complete sexual satisfaction.

 Damn, had the tables turned. Watching Larry watch me was as orgasmic as watching Idris Elba jank himself. Maybe even better. He was so concentrated. So concentrated and libidinous with his eyes, his mannerisms, his movements. It was like Larry had a “click on pour sexy time” switch niched somewhere in his brain–that he always decides to push every time he’s around me–for special occasion. He could go from Peewee Herman innocent to Lance Gross sexy in a snap and to complain would but an insult but shit, the switch was overwhelming.

 Along with his sex appeal come his attentiveness and his stamina. I could tell his drive could exceed to atmospheric heights. The man could be out of this world when it came to sex, I’m sure of it. Like a damn energizer bunny. I could tell by how he hardly flinched when I took care of him a minute ago. It was nothing to him. Or it seemed like nothing. The man was still hard for God’s sake.

 The man…is still hard.


 "Je n'ai jamais connu une femme de sentir si bon. (I’ve never known a woman to smell so good.)“

 He had turned me to the opposite side of the counter and was now on his knees with me right square in his face. I could feel him brushing his lips on the thin hairs that surrounded my swollen clit, which peeked from my separate set of lips. I had to shut my eyes in order to keep from exhausting myself of my coming bust. Larry could make you climax just by standing still.

 "Jamais de ma vie… (Never in my life…)”

 I whimpered, feeling his hot breath on my quivering slit. “E-English.” Reaching down, I curled my hands into his hair, almost ripping the tresses.

 "Vous n'aimez pas quand je gémis pour vous dans ma langue? (You don’t like when I moan for you in my language?)“

 I could feel myself growing weak; making me fully lay my back on the ceramic piece under me.

 "English.” I growled through gritted teeth.

 "Lionne.“ He moaned it. It was a wet, hypnotizing sound that rattled in the base of his throat and then shot through me like a jolt. My back arched instantly. ”Putain.

 I looked down at him with hazed eyes as he kneaded his face into my inner thigh. His fingers tightened around my fleshy legs, his nails marking my skin. "You make it so hard for me to wait.” He shook his head. “So fucking hard.”

 His thumb creased my lips as his slowly moved down the convergence of them. I could almost hear my sticky natural lube enveloping him as he pushed deeper and deeper. I almost cried when he stopped.

 "L-Larry…“ I tried to swallow the shallow breaths that left me. "The teasing…is starting to become painful.”

 His eyes darted upwards before he looked at my quivering legs again. “Tell me what you want.”

 "You know what I want.“ I spluttered, pulling his head down towards my mound. "You know-”

 "I want you to tell me.“

 I groaned. Peeking down at him, I noticed his fingers on my bikini line slowly tracing me. It just made my body shiver more.

 "I want you inside of me.” I huffed, beginning to wrap my legs around his neck. He didn’t stop me.


 "I want your tongue in me.” I whimpered, letting go of his hair and going for my hardened nipples.

 I’d never felt so out of will in my life. So, out of pocket. So, out of my grasp to the point where I hardly knew what I was asking for. I was slurring anything that would get me what my body wanted. Relief. Release. Reaction. A fucking resolution. Maybe a revelation even. Just something that would encourage this one man–who I’d masturbated off of many nights before–to give what we both wanted.

 A good fuck worth a whole 3 years or so of tension.

 I was screaming before he even tasted me. Before his wet, cold, fleshy tongue touched me and plunged my body into an abyss of pleasure. He wasn’t letting up, wasn’t cutting corners, wasn’t easing up. He was giving me what I asked for. Everything I asked for. His tongue sliced, darted, licked, thrusted, and all of the above(d) my vag, totally wiping me out physically and mentally. The heat in my stomach burned my organs and left the pouch emptied and dry. I could feel myself numbing as he made out with my clitoris over and over and over again. My body jerked, crashed, and jerked again as my voice simmered down to a bare rasp that almost eliminated my vocal chords. His moans that hummed against me and his painful take-ins of breath every time I scratched his shoulder or pulled his hair or pressured his neck with my thighs were motivation for me not to let up too easily but Larry possessed every bit of my body. I’m sure if he wanted me to reach my peak before I had it would’ve happened.

 I could hardly breath as my finish neared. I could hardly think as Larry’s lips smacked audibly and exuberantly against me and I could hardly move when he ordered me to raise my hips. It was all too much and the exhaust I was feeling physically, mentally, and emotionally was only one I’d ever felt with him. No one else.

 I watched as he kissed my clit slowly, sucked it harshly, and then kissed it again, his eyes almost rolling with each pull. The sight sent me over the edge and soon my frenzy coated him. I heard him grunt as he licked me fresh and I mentally noted this as his favorite part of sex.

 My bottom half had, had enough. We both watched my legs shiver until my high descended and he rose to his natural height. That’s when I noticed his still upright member.

 Raising a brow, I raised my attention to his sleek smirk. “I can hardly move.” I huffed.

 He shrugged. “You don’t have to.”

 My protest was senseless. So, I didn’t. His hips felt oddly comfortable as he hoisted me on them. So tiny and chiseled. I could fell his bones moving under his skin as my inner thighs rubbed against his joints. He lifted me so easily and carried my weight like it was nothing.   I was a feather compared to his strength just giving me another slot of sexy to put him in. The breeze that brushed my sheath as he carried me across the room–pass the thrown kitchen items and clothes mixture–was heavenly and the sight of his swollen lips as he teased me with them just made my cheeks rise. I had done that. Me. Lionne. I had done that to him–I had to have something to rejoice about.

 With my arms circling his neck, I smirked as he took small steps.

 "Tired?“ I raised a brow.

 He huffed a laugh. "Painfully horny? Yes. Tired?” His head shook. “No.”

 I nodded as he leaned down and kissed my lips. The peck was real soft and tender.

 "You?“ His hands squeezed my ass as he playfully grinned.

 I shrugged. "I’m…something.” I weakly smiled. “But tired isn’t the word, bunny boy.”

 Nodding, he lagged his way over to the living room window before turning and leaning his back on it. I looked past him and peered down at the moving cars below.

 "You really need curtains.“ I hissed.

 Ignoring me, he nudged my face with his. "You can stand?” He asked, his head tilted as he looked at me from under lustful eyes and darkened lashes.

 I shot a look at him. “I mean…” Looking down at my legs, I shrugged.

 His twisted his features awkwardly before whistling between gritted teeth, “You wanna try?”

 Tightening my grip on his neck, I uncurled my legs from his waist and eased myself down so that my feet were planted on his white carpet. My knees felt a bit wobbly once I steadied myself everything seemed to work the way it was supposed to.

 "Jesus Lar,“ I turned and placed my hands on the window again. "You really need some curtains.” I could feel his hands on my hips and his presence close in behind me. “Your next door neighbors can literally see everything you’re doing.”

 He felt him kick my legs apart as he hummed against my ear. “They can hear it too.”

 My eyes widened as I felt his bare sex rub against my backside before he began to squeeze my hips in hopes that I would follow his lead. Looking back at him, I caught his eyes staring longingly at his view below. It was like his eyes latched onto me seething its imaginary hold on my skin. With my hands still on the window in front of me, I began to move with him as he backed away, slowly bending my upper body into a plank position. My head lagged towards his carpet giving me the most amazing view of the city life under us.

 Anyone could be staring at us right now.


 The thought scared me but then again the boiling heat in my stomach spoke truths of how turned on I was. When I looked up, I caught sight of the faint reflection the window promised making a moan jut in my throat. I could clearly see our formed naked bodies; Larry’s hovering behind me while he stared at my ass in admiration.

 "You like to watch.“ He scratched. "Right?”

 I nodded.

 He raised a brow. “And I…like to be watched.” I could feel his fingers spreading me making my breathing two times its rate. “And, I like to watch you.”

 His overbearing eyes tainted me with vulgarity. I could feel his tip wavering over my opening. When he remained there, I pushed back almost screeching even though he hardly entered my womb.

 "Put it in. I want to feel you.“ My voice came out strained and stained with anticipation. Laced with impatience and coated with sexual ardor. "Come on, Larry. Stop with the teasing.” I groaned.

 I reached back in search of him, sucking my teeth when he eased away. “You move too fast, Li.” He shook his head. Pulling my locks, he swept them over my shoulder before dragging his hand down my sticky back. It didn’t take long for his other hand to join him, both of his wide palms exploring my surface. I bit my lip to stop myself from whimpering. I could feel my face numbing due to my position and I could clearly see my knees wiggling under me. I wouldn’t last long.

 I yelped when his large hands grossed over my breasts and massaged the sensitive busts. His fingers pinched and kneaded making me hold my breath and clench my thighs together.

 "I swear to God, Larry.“ I chopped. "This is too much.”

 He leaned over me into my position so that he could find my exposed ear. I could feel his dick bobbing against my backside.

 "Hmm?“ Kissing the skin, he nudged my face. "Quoi?”

 "I need you to fuck me.“ I groaned trying to lift my head. The way his neck clamped over mine wouldn’t let me pivot at all.

 "You sure?” His voice was real light and weak causing my eyes to open. “You want me to…”

 I huffed as the insecurity in his throat was exposed with a crack. Nudging him with my shoulder, I gestured for him to let up. The clutch his chin had on my neck loosened and soon I was staring him straight in his dilated pupils.

 I’ve never seen Larry so unsure or uncertain. He always knew what he wanted and he went for it. That was his game, that was his game plan, and nothing ever switched up with him. He was one straight and narrow path–with a whole bunch of spontaneous shit that lingered on the side–and he never swerved off completely. Seeing him so weary of this was new to me.

 "You want to do this?“ He peeped, looking into my understanding eyes. "I don’t want to do this now and then…”

 And then, I’d been neglecting him again in the morning.

 I pressed my lips together as his head shook. “I can’t be your mistake, Li.” He said. “Not again…”

 Because it hurts too much.

 I knew what he wanted to say but left out. He had to hold onto some type of masculine pride–rolls eyes from here to France.

 Looking at him, I took in his wet face and his salted hair. The bush propped over his face like a human made halo. “I want to do this.” I nodded and looked at his lips. “Really. I think I’m ready.”

 His brow furrowed. “You…think?”

 I shook my head and sighed, tightened my eyes together. “I…um- I know. I’m sorry. I know I’m ready.”

 His hands began to loosen my waist causing me to grab him back.

 "Larry, I’m serious.“ I pushed. "I know I sound like everything but convincing but I’m telling you. I’m ready for you. Really. I’m just…horrible with words.”

 His brows etched together as he studied me. “I feel like you leave me in the morning…”

 I shook my head cutting him off. “No. That’s not us. Even if this…this was something I wasn’t ready for I would never do that to you.”

 Biting his lip, he searched me. Eyes. Nose. Cheeks. Mouth. More mouth. Eyes again. His expression softened as he stiffly exhaled. When he leaned down I met him halfway and kissed him. The pull was smooth and savoring. Like our lips had just touched the sweetest fruit.

 "Put your hand on the window.“


 He was inside of me before I could configure his words. Or my initial thought. Or even the thought of bracing myself. Or just thinking period.

 My whole body practically gave out as I reached for the already smudged glass in hopes to catch myself. His grip moved to my hips and kneaded holes into the flesh trying to keep me upright as well.

 "Fuck.“ I growled, bending my head as he pounded into me, his heavy breaths sounding like music to my ears and my choppy ones–the total opposite. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 With each scream, I hit another octave destroying my vocals–shriveling my folds–and physically feeling them curdle into nothing.

 My insides were swollen and the nerves in them the definition of sensitive making the overwhelming feeling cross between the epitome of pain and pleasure. My whimpers were truthful–his member stretched me in ways I never knew were possible and his length plunged into me like I was an abyss. I couldn’t cradle the thought of it ever ending because I was too busy trying to consume the feeling it was offering. I felt numb. But the numbing feeling was the best part. I couldn’t feel my legs or my hips but that only intensified my hearing and the dry taste of pleading pooling in the middle of my tongue.

 "Larry.“ I cracked, curling my nails against the glass.

 I needed his back. I needed his skin.

 "Larry, I can’t-” I swallowed the rest of my words as he slowed his pace enough for me to began to meet him.

 "I need to touch you. This window-“ His finger met my clit making me jerk and my legs lose their balance. "Please, Larry.”

He groaned, before pulling out and pivoting my body to hoist my legs on his hips. Leaning my back on the window, he hooked the back of my knees between the convergence of his bicep and his forearm. My eyes instantly locked with the artistry on his right pectoral and down his arm as my hands latched onto his pure skin his broad shoulders being their target. I’ve never felt someone so soft or firm in my life. So secure and focused as Larry was as he stroked me back into bliss. My head fell back against the–fogged–glass behind me as I met him. His entrances no longer resulted in smacks but now steady pats that echoed against my sensitive eardrums and drove me something over the level of nuts. My nails got their wishes–something to seep into–as they pushed down towards his lower back and retreated. Larry didn’t complain. He didn’t stop my response to pleasure but only broadened it by softly kissing me and pushing his head into my neck. His length followed his actions as he closed in on my body entering me even deeper.

 My body was no longer jumping from its bones but relaxing in Larry’s presence. In his aura. His physical ambiance. I was experiencing something I’d never allowed myself to fall into until now. He’d eased me into a pool of intimacy.

 His words came back to me as our breaths aligned into one line of haggard inhalations and exhalations.

 You move too fast, Li.

 It had been resting on my mind since he’d said it. Even though it was spur of the moment. Even though it was rushed and it wasn’t for the same intention or in the same light of thinking I had placed it in.

 It was true.

 I was usually the partner to control. Usually the partner to jump the gun and plunge for what I wanted. I’d never sat back and let the flow take me in its arms. I never road the wave of…this. Whatever Larry was giving me right now was something I’d never let someone push me to or through. I wasn’t only feeling empty pressure at the bottom of my stomach or a simple contraction among my sex. I was feeling an emotional connect. I didn’t want to only see Larry withering under me just because we were having sex but I wanted to see him quivering against me because I wanted to feel his heart race. I wanted to feel his toes curl. I wanted to see his brow twitch and his lips redden. I wanted to know I could do these things to him over and over and over again not for my pride but his all round enjoyment.

 For him.

 I wanted to know him sexually so I could apply it in the most unselfish way imaginable.

 I wanted him to see me arch for him. I wanted him to taste me as many times as he found suitable. I wanted him to own me even in these few hazy moments. Because I cared for him. And, I needed him.

 And, if this was what he wanted so did I.

 Without even realizing I wanted the same thing he did. I wanted to actually know him. Fully.

 I fucking needed it. And, I was going to get it regardless of what came afterwards.

 “Je suis sur le point de jouir. (I’m about to come.)” His gruff voice erupted inside my eardrum causing me to tighten my grip on his neck.

 “Larry…” I spluttered, as he quickened his pace. “E-English-”

 “I gonna come.” He growled, his teeth biting my flesh as I sucked air between my teeth. “Merde.

 Gripping his hair, I pulled his head to a tilt and kissed his lips the dripping passion of it making my walls contract around his dick. The moan that rumbled against our chests pinched our sexes and soon my legs were shaking again.

 Larry pulled out and everything fuzzed to nothing but clashing grunts, whimpers and wails. The last of our words were incoherent and our blazing orgasms road out their elevated highs. My chest heaved as Larry’s head found its place in my neck again and my hands lowered to his toned stomach. I traced long lines down his skin as I stared at the bland ceiling while he kissed my neck and massaged the new growth at the start of my locs.

 My long swallow that brushed the silence caused Larry to slowly remove himself from his spot. His eyes didn’t catch mine but his lips didn’t miss its target either. I exhaled as he softly pecked my lips, the patience of them almost morbid. Tilting my head, I invited his waiting tongue that curled around mine and soon my hands were pressing against his cheeks as he lowered me to his white carpet.

 “You tired?” He peeped, pushing his head into my neck.

 Shaking my head, I clawed at his lower back. “Not even close.“

Dark Lover

Happy birthday, ripperblackstaff!  I got you smut.

Rating: M


“Do you have any fantasies?” Belle asked. They were lying together in bed, Rumpelstiltskin spooned up behind her, his arm draped over her waist, his breath ruffling the hair on the top of her head.

“I’m living my fantasy, sweetheart. This is all I ever wanted.” He nuzzled her gently.

“I mean..specific ones. Sexual ones.” Belle’s face heated, knowing she wouldn’t be able to bring this up if she were facing him and looking him in the eye. “Things you’ve thought about us doing.”

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anonymous asked:

ok another one based on your post!! after starkiller, kylo comes back from snoke's training exhausted and in pain. on top of that, he has been having awful nightmares and can barely sleep. he faints on the bridge; hux feels helpless because he can't do anything besides call medbay. hux gets off his shift early and rushes to the medbay as discreetly as possible. when kylo wakes, he explains everything when he senses hux's distress. later, in hux's quarters, they sleep in each other's arms

don’t imagine Hux seeing Kylo wobble out of the corner of his eye and feeling a jolt of worry spike through his chest

don’t imagine Kylo’s eyes rolling up as he falls boneleslly to the ground, skin pale and sweaty, breathing ragged

don’t imagine Hux moving quicker than he’s ever moved before, skidding to his knees to Kylo’s side, uncaring of how he’s ruined the knees of his uniform trousers

don’t imagine Hux trying to keep his frigid appearance up but he feels his mask falling away, expression painted with concern for Kylo’s deteriorating health

don’t imagine Hux gently touching Kylo’s face, trying to make it seem like he’s checking for a pulse, checking for a fever, when really Hux is relishing in the feeling of having Kylo’s soft skin beneath his fingertips again (Hux should’ve known that their arrangement wouldn’t remain ‘no strings attached’ for long)

don’t imagine Hux having to remain completely detached from the situation as the medics lift Kylo’s lifeless body onto a stretcher, keeping his hands steady by his sides so he doesn’t reach out and try to touch his Kylo one last time before the medics sweep him away

don’t imagine Hux going down to medbay after his shift, finding Kylo sitting up in bed, back against the headboard and knees up to his chest and face buried his arms with a plate of uneaten food next to his bed

don’t imagine Hux sitting gingerly on the side of the bed, making Kylo look up slowly, his face covered in tears as he tells Hux what he’s been through, what Snoke had put him through, what terrible images plague his nightmares every single night

don’t imagine the two of them walking hand-in-hand back to Hux’s quarters, forgetting that the rest of the galaxy exists outside of their shared bubble, and Hux gently peeling off Kylo’s clothes and making sure he’s had a warm meal and a hot drink

and definitely don’t imagine Kylo clinging to Hux with desperate hands, wanting to be anchored down and protected from his horrible dreams, and knowing that Hux is the only one he trusts enough to keep him warm and safe

[Fic Update] Under The Weather (3/6)

[AO3 FFN | Fic Masterlist]

Wash, Maine, and Project Freelancer. Sometimes the only constant is the rain.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

[New] Chapter Three

The motorcycle hums beneath him.

It’s a Model 16ZW6, Wash thinks. Maybe a W7. It’s got all sorts of mods that he’s pretty sure don’t meet environmental regulatory standards. The bright red button labeled, in shaky handwriting, “FUCK ‘EM ALL” is probably attached to something particularly illegal. Out of respect for the bike’s erstwhile owner and his own continued well-being, he doesn’t press it.

He’s speeding through the capital city of a colony by the name of Fell. Semi-abandoned after continued Covenant attacks, it’s become one data point in the convoluted network of Insurrectionist intel transfer stations. Total shitheap punctuated by the odd wealthy neighborhood sheltering the more respectable class of arms dealers.

Feels a bit like home.

He’s bent over the handlebars, feeling the tension in his shoulders bleeding away with the steady thrum of the engine and the deafening roar of the wind—not all the old memories are bad ones—when somebody finally manages to shoot out his back tire.

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