my manhood


Today, two years ago I stuck the first needle in my leg declaring the beginning of my medical journey to manhood. Looking in the mirror, I never would’ve thought I’d ever see the best version of myself staring back at me. Testosterone has truly changed my life and I’ve been blessed to be able to live out my authentic self.

Happy Manniversary you big hunk of sexy man 👏🏽❤️ 5.14.15

anonymous asked:

Hi! I've just started testosterone and was wondering how to deal with feeling like 'less of a man' than cis men due to penis size? The expectation from women to have a big penis is overwhelming for cis men as it is, but what about trans men? Particularly those of us who haven't had lower surgery? Thank you!

First I must say I too haven’t had surgery yet. I just can’t afford it myself and this journey is a life long process. My manhood is not measured by what I carry but how I carry myself. Cis men should want to be more like me. Not the other way. I know both truths and lies and if I choose to live lies to appease others then so shall be my life. I choose to help others build their armor and instead of becoming a mold we can be the mold!!!

As for relationships, if the woman that I meet truly cared about my penis than she is not the one for me. I need a woman who loves me and my manhood as I am and willing to walk this journey at my side.

Monsta X reaction to their s/o who sits on their lap and hugs them because she is sleepy but unwittingly rubs against them

requested by anon~


Originally posted by daddyhyun-u

Shownu; Shownu was in the midst of watching some Chris Brown when you sat on his lap, hugging him the process and placing your head on shoulder. At first it was fine until you started to “unwittingly” rub against him as you tried to get yourself into a comfortable position. And this papa will be freaking turned on. He’d just laugh it out and would wonder if it was comfortable for you to sit under his growing bulge. Shownu would also turn into beet red when you asked him why is he giggling to himself and why is his cheeks and ears red. 

Mmmm…. *sits on his lap, wraps around his neck; starts to find a comfy position.. only to rub yours against his*”

“*ALERT ALERT!! turn on; lets out a shy laugh; covers face while trying to calm his heart*”

“Babe, why are you so red? *pulls away to have a full view of his face, only to put more pressure on his you know*”

“I-It’s nothing, just go back to your previous position baby…”

Originally posted by mauloveskpop

Wonho; Wonho would be so flushed to be honest that he wouldn’t be able to control his laughter once you started to unwittingly rub against him. He would get turned on really easy and he’d also have this urge to ask you if you’re doing this on purpose or not. But then, he’d stop himself from asking you that since the boys was also around that time, making it a little bit harder for him to control his feels, especially the feels below there. Once Wonho can’t take it anymore with your rubbing, he’d actually excuse the two of you and would bring you to his room, placing you on the bed before calming himself down.

B-babe, did you do it on purpose? *fans his oh so red cheeks while pacing back and forth in the room*”

“What do you mean? Ughh babe, I’m sleepy… *pouts*”

“You know…. you rubbing yourself against my manhood? Coz baby, let me tell you… It was really hard to control myself out there!”

“Oh… Did I rub against you? *confused; innocent; don’t know a thing; no idea; idk*”

Originally posted by garisanee

Minhyuk; The two of you were just hanging out at home and it was a really wonderful evening. You just finished washing the dishes when you decided to sit on Minhyuk’s lap and hug him since you were sleepy. Minhyuk would be pretty cool at first until he feels you against his. He’d be taken aback like he’d be stuttering, asking you what do you want to do. And when you told him that you were sleepy, he’d actually just let you be….. like okay continue sitting on my lap and j-just do your thing yeah… and once he finds you asleep with your head rested on his shoulder, he’d heave out a sigh and would try to calm him beating heart.

Babe, what do you want to d-do now? *takes a deep breathe as he feels you rubbing against him*”

“I want to sleep… Can I sleep here in your lap? *cutely rubs your eyes with a pout*”

“Arasso… j-just sleep. *gently pushes her head back on his shoulder as he tries to concentrate on the tv show in front of him*”

Originally posted by mywonhoki

Kihyun; Kihyun was just busy listening to some music when he got startled when you sat on his lap and hugged him. He’d be confused at first but would just let you do your thing until you start rubbing against him, making him freeze. He’d be staring at you with his lips slightly apart and would feel that he was starting to get turned on by the second. Kihyun would be kind of straightforward about this to be honest, was it a sign that you wanted to go to the next level or are you just sleepy sleepy? And when he hears your answer, he’d just let you sleep in his lap despite having you rubbing against him. Kihyun would then calm down but then would be turned on after a few minutes later.

Baby, do you want to have sex or are you just sleepy? *cheeks tinted in pink*”

“I’m sleepy.. but if you want we can do the first part tomorrow but not today since I’m really sleepy.. *lets out a whine before making yourself comfortable in his lap*”

“Alright, just sleep there. *caresses your back as he continues to focus in his music until it played Blind wink wink*”

Originally posted by hyungvon

Hyungwon; Hyungwon would actually give you that look in the gif to be honest. He was just casually reading a book when you sat on his lap and hugged him. When he felt you rub against him, he would put the book down and look at you, wiggling that eyebrows with a teasing smile. When you ask him why he’s looking at you like that, he’d just bloop your nose with his finger before teasing you. And when you’d actually get up, he’d just stop you, pulling you back down on his lap and let you sleep, since you’ve already sat there then why not stay there for a couple more hours aye. 

Ohoho, baby *wiggles eyebrows at you and smiles*”

“What is it Hyungwon? Why are you looking at me like that? *looks at him weirdly*”

“Do you really want to go there? You like to go and tease me huh? *wink wink*”

“Wtf, babe? You know what, I should just go and cuddle with Mr. Snuggles *Tries to get up but only to be pulled right back into his lap*”

Originally posted by kittyminhyuk

Jooheon; Jooheon was in the middle of making new beats, melody and whatnot when you decided to sit on his lap and hug him. Jooheon wouldn’t mind actually. Like he’d actually find it cute when you told him that you were sleepy. But when you started to rub against him, he’d still act really calm to be honest like jooheon, breathe, she didn’t do that on purpose, breathe okay calm down calm down. And once he’d feel that you had stopped, indicating that you have found a comfortable position, he’d heave out a sigh of relief before he continues doing his thing. After a few moments, he’d feel you rub against him once more, making him pout that he’d start whining to be honest.

Argh babeeeeeee *whines*”

“What? What’s wrong? *pulls away from the hug to look at him in the eyes, only to find him really cute when he starts pouting*”

“Are you doing that on purpose? Coz if you are, then you need to stop… *pouts whines whines whines*”

“Doing what on purpose? Baby, what are you talking about? *furrows eyebrows*”

Originally posted by bts-bap-trash

I.M; Changkyun would not let you get away to be honest. The two of you were buys watching some movie when you decided to sit on his lap and hug him. He was okay at first since his baby is sleepy but once he feels you rubbing against him, he’d be teasing you the whole night. He’d actually poke you on your sides until you look at him with a pout. But that pout would be wiped away in an instant when you see that face *on the gif*. He’d place his hands on your hips while he looks at you like that, asking you thousands of questions until you just decided to go to your room and sleep but Changkyun will not let you go. 

Stop poking my sides, Changkyun. *pout… only to furrow eyebrows after seeing his face* What?”

“Are you doing that on purpose, honeybunch? *wink wink*”

“What?…… If what I’m thinking about right now is right, you’re sick. I’m just freaking sleepy babe. *was about to get up only to be stopped by Changkyun*”

“No, no. Why would I think of that baby? C’mon, just be honest with me *tease tease tease tease*”

Of Loyalty and Duty (Chapter 3)

Prompt: In an effort to save two kingdoms, an arranged marriage was made. At his request, Prince Lin-Manuel Miranda was to be wed to you, the youngest daughter in your royal family. RoyalAU. Written for the hamwriters’ write-a-thon Day 1 prompt.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Pairing: Lin x reader

Words: 2,383

Warning: minor character death

Tagged: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @notthrowingawaymyfood

A/N: So you’re going to give me a backhanded compliment and then insult me by telling me my fics are shitty? Well here’s ANOTHER one for you. Two in one day, will ya look at that? *clears throat* Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. Thank you for proofreading @how-could-i-do-this ! Also, I’m leaving for a trip soon, so I’m not sure if I have time to write. @nesthemonster - this is for you.

Thanks for reading!

The Miranda kingdom was breathtaking.

Though you’d already seen the scenery – the sprawling green plains, mountains and hills that decorated the horizon, and the fields littered with farmers that tended to their crops and livestock – experiencing it once was not enough for you to appreciate its beauty. As you neared the first village, you noticed that children, boys and girls alike, were running alongside the carriage, waving their tiny arms in greeting. You automatically waved back, giggling when their eyes went wide.

Without much thought about your prior spat, you tugged on Prince Lin’s sleeve to catch his attention. “Say hello!”

He gave you an amused stare but acquiesced, lifting his hand in acknowledgment to the sprinting children. You laughed when they shrieked in delight, their bright smiles shining under the sun despite the growing distance between them and the carriage. “I imagine that you are very popular with the children in the villages,” you teased, tucking the loose tendrils of hair that the wind toyed with behind your ear, “they are quick to idolize people that they admire… and your similar temperaments must be appealing to them as well.”

Prince Lin scoffed and propped his chin on his hand, elbow resting against the window of the carriage. “Are you calling me a child, Princess?” he questioned, regarding you carefully.

You leaned back against the seat, purposely not meeting his gaze as you grinned. “Maybe.”

“I am anything but a child,” he murmured, shifting close, “would you like a proof of my manhood, Princess?”

Keep reading

unpopular opinion time but the rhetoric painting all men as abusive and/or disgusting was a major factor in keeping me in the closet for years after i knew i was a trans man, because i was living in fear that the second i accepted my manhood, i would become that abusive and disgusting person.

there’s a big difference between separating cis and trans men because cis men are “real men” and trans men are “other” and recognizing that trans men have a different relationship with manhood and masculinity than cis men when they’re younger, closeted, and later pre-transition (or if they choose not to transition). ignoring the fact that trans men were raised differently than cis men ignores reality. we were force-fed the same misogyny as women, and despite the fact that it was misdirected that still affects us. i have many “feminine” mannerisms left over from before i realized i was trans, and later, when i was masquerading as female due to the constraints of my environment.

this isn’t to say that trans men will always experience misdirected misogyny or that this makes us “lesser men”, but when making blanket statements about men it’s important to remember that not all men are cishet white men. it’s not radical to call black men abusive or rapists; it’s perpetuating a dangerous stereotype. in the same way, these statements tell trans men that their experiences are identical to that of cis men, when that’s a ridiculous claim. we have different experiences, and they’re both the experiences of men, but they still have profound effects on who we are and how we interact with masculinity.

the trans male community suffers from a misogyny problem just like any other male community, and exempting us from rhetoric regarding misogyny is wrong. however, there’s a way to do it without forcing us deeper into the closet with toxicity. the male experience is varied, and men can be privileged as men and oppressed in other aspects. stop acting like the male experience is exclusive to those that are in the most privileged of positions.

The Cool Kids (TG/AP)

I had always wanted to be friends with the upperclassmen in school. I mean, who didn’t? They always seemed so cool; talking back to teachers, smoking cigs during recess, and sometimes ditching class entirely. But the one time I tried to talk to them they all just made fun of how young I was. After that, I tried to avoid them and keep my head down, but I always envied them. One day I accidentally walked into the detention room where they were all hanging out. Embarrassed, I looked around for a teacher to ask for directions to the classroom I was supposed to be in, but there were no teachers in the room. I was about to turn and leave, but one of the boys walked up behind me and blocked the door.

              “Hey, where you going little guy? Don’t you want to hang out with us?” he asked me with a smirk.

              “Um, sure, I guess…but I should really get to class soon,” I said nervously.

              “Hey, this little guy seems pretty nervous. Let’s try giving him the ‘water’,” he said to another boy with a wink. I saw one of them pull an unmarked bottle out of his backpack and walk over to me. He asked if I was thirsty, but before I could respond he began to pour the contents of the bottle over my head. They all started laughing and I tried to wipe the water out of my eyes. I wanted to cry, but as I rubbed my face I began to notice how long my hair seemed. My parents normally took me to get a haircut every two weeks, but for some reason I felt my hair tickling my neck. I looked up at the upperclassmen towering over me and was about to ask what was in the bottle, but a sudden pressure began to build in my legs and I shot up nearly a foot in height. In a matter of seconds I was almost eye level with the boys, but the sudden growth spurt made me a little disoriented. I looked around at the boys and noticed that they had stopped laughing. Instead, they were simply staring at me with grins of excitement growing on their faces. I was beginning to get nervous, but before I could run and find help I felt my bones beginning to grow again. My body felt like putty as my frame grew outwards. I heard my shoulders crack as they widened, and at the same time I felt the joints in my arms and hands pop as they grew long and feminine. A final loud crack could be heard as my hips shot outwards, and as I stumbled around the room in a panic I noticed how much more my new hips swayed with each step. I had never paid much attention to the older girls in school since they were always just talking about boys, makeup, and other lame stuff, but I could tell that I was beginning to look like one of them. I wanted to scream at the thought of becoming an icky girl, but as I exhaled all that came out was a girly sounding moan.

              “Oh man, he sounds like he’s gonna be a sexy one,” I heard one of the boys say. I wanted to slap him, but before I could turn around I felt a tingling sensation coming from my chest. I looked down at my soaked shirt and saw that my nipples were growing bigger. Not only were they growing bigger, but it looked like they were beginning to poke out of my white shirt too. I reached up to cover them from the boys’ staring, but as I touched one I felt something really good course through my body. I touched them again, pinching them a little this time and let out another moan. I had never felt anything like this before, but I immediately wanted more. As I pinched my nipples and continued to moan, I felt my chest beginning to push out into my hands. Pretty soon I was cupping two boobs in my hands, and as much as I wanted to fight these changes, I couldn’t help but indulge in the pleasurable effects of my changing body. I gave each boob a squeeze and felt more tingles of pleasure run through my body, causing me to giggle and moan. A warm sensation began to come from my belly, and I looked down past my new boobs just in time to see a layer of muscle form at my midriff. My shirt was already too small for my growing body, but it seemed to expose my midriff perfectly for all the drooling boys. My abs tensed as I felt myself grow fit, and soon that tension traveled to my butt.

              I felt my leg muscles tense as my butt cheeks began to inflate. My pants, already tight from my growth spurt, began to tear and reveal a smooth, peach shaped butt. I looked at my new behind and reluctantly began to admire it. I could feel my thoughts beginning to change. I was becoming stupid and girly and self-centered, but before I could fight it I felt a wave of pleasure explode from my groin. I tried to keep in another moan, but couldn’t hold it in as my member began to change. It felt like a vacuum in my abdomen was sucking my manhood up, but as it retracted between my legs it left some weird looking lips in my crotch. I looked at the new gap in my crotch, utterly confused by it, but also curious. I felt a dampness beginning to build in my crotch and suddenly felt the need to touch it. I rubbed a finger against it and recoiled from the sudden jolt of pleasure. I squealed, causing all the boys to laugh as they watched me struggle to figure out my new body. It all felt wrong, this wasn’t my body, but as I touched my crotch again I felt a sensation that was so pleasurable I almost forgot I was a boy. I felt my insides shift and settle as I became a girl completely. I still wanted to run and tell someone what these boys had done to me, but I couldn’t fight the new urges I was feeling. I wanted to slip two fingers between my legs, and though I tried to fight it, I soon found my hand slipping two digits between my new sex. It was unreal. I moved my hand back and forth, listening to a wet schlicking sound as I went.

Pleasure began to build in my mind, and I felt a tugging in the back of my mind to come back to reality, but this felt too good. With each motion I felt new knowledge enter my head. I knew how to pleasure myself, I knew what a blowjob was and how to give a good one, and I knew the boys wanted me. I didn’t want to know any of this, but it all just came with the pleasure I was feeling. I moved my hand faster and faster as I began to remember smaller things, like shaving my legs and buying tampons. I shook my head and moaned in a mixture of pleasure and reluctance. I wanted to escape, but I was so close to a pleasure I’d never felt before and wanted to feel so badly. With one last slide of my hand, I screamed and felt my first orgasm wash over me. It was euphoric. My pussy throbbed as I came, dripping with juice and filling the room with the stench of sex. As I reveled in the afterglow, I felt a flood of hormones course through my body. I felt the desire to play video games fade away. I felt memories of my friends become memories of hanging out with the popular girls in school. I felt the need for a man to ravish me. I turned around and stared at the boys, smirking and sizing them up. They all had raging erections showing through their pants, but some of them were clearly more hung than others. I pointed to one and curled a finger at him, signaling him over to me. He smiled and undid his belt. I unbuttoned my shirt a bit and tied the loose ends together, pushing my breasts forward and showing my new cleavage off. I grabbed the bottle of water he was holding and began to pour it all over my breasts. I moaned again as they grew one size larger. I turned around and began to swing my hips back and forth, giving all the boys a sexy little show. As the boy thrust his dick between my tight little pussy, I smiled and whispered into his ear:

              “My name’s Robin, and I’m your new obsession.” I felt even more turned on by the fact that we were about to fuck in front of all the boys. My pussy ached for attention, and thankfully my little boy-toy was more than happy to oblige. I smiled and let my eyes roll into my head in pleasure as his cock thrust in and out of me. I owned these upperclassmen now. The only thing I wanted now…was to try anal.

I mistakenly invited a “Democrat” for lunch; of course he had to improve my manhood offering me a jock-strap for invite thanks. He’s unaware Frey wearing only camisoles and full cut panties  ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The Word

For the Dialogue-only @xfficchallenges

“Mulder, he isn’t going to show.”

“Barely one a.m., Scully.  He’ll be here.  Just wait.”

“That’s what you said at 10, and 11, and half an hour ago.”

“I think the moral of this story is, you’re a very impatient woman.”

“And you’re a very stubborn man.”

“I prefer dedicated.”

“Well, I would prefer you taking me home and curling up in my nice, warm bed and sleeping in past eight tomorrow.”

“I’m flattered, but shouldn’t you at least buy me dinner first?”


“You just told me you wanted me to take you home and curl up in bed with you.  Your nice, warm bed.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Anytime, Scully, you just say the word.”

“Would it get me out of this worthless stake-out if I did?”

“I was only teasing.”

“I’m not.”

“…Scully, if you want to go home…I mean…you certainly don’t…I mean…”

“Mulder, you wouldn’t know what to do with the word if I gave it to you with neon lights and a prominent arrow saying ‘here is the word, take it.’”

“Did you just question my manhood?”

“I just called attention to your ability to dish it, but not take it.”

“I can take it.  I can definitely take it.”

“Well then, take me home.”

“But, if this is just because you think the stake-out is a wash…”

“I rest my case.”

“…are you serious, Scully?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Because you yawned seven times in under five minutes, so maybe you’ll just say anything for me to take you home.”

“And how many times have I fallen asleep on a stake-out?  A dozen, I imagine.  So, if I wanted to sleep, I would sleep.  But, it’s up to you.  Stay or go.”

“Is this a now or never kind of thing?”

“You know he isn’t showing if he hasn’t by now.  There’s no reason for us to be out here.  Eventually, you’re gonna have to put your money where your mouth is…or your mouth…well…”


“My offer expires in exactly one minute, Mulder.  Tick tock.”

“That was number eight.”

“Stop counting my yawns.  Thirty seconds.”

“I just…”

“Ten seconds.”

“Fine.  We’ll go.  But, just so you know, I’m not having sex with you just because you’re offering, I’m having sex with you because I love you, and you’re finally offering.”

“Who said anything about sex?  I just want to sleep.”

“…ouch.  Scully, one.  Mulder, zero.”

“Take me home.  Stay the night.  Let’s see what happens in the morning.”

“You can forget everything I just said.”

“I love you too, Mulder.  Now, take me home.”

The End

yellowfeather84  asked:

Shifted ficlet prompt: can we please have some Claire and Murtagh fluff. Maybe Claire helping Murtagh as he's getting older. Discussing their shared concern about Jamie or the bairns. Or even reminiscing about Paris and Murtagh escorting Claire to l'hopital everyday. Their relationship in the show is so close and caring that it would be wonderful to see more of that during happier times.

For the next few weeks I’ll be writing one-shots in the Shifted universe, filling in the blanks that we don’t see in the main story, before we resume the main action with Part 7 - The Visitor.

If there is a particular scene you’d like to see, send me an ask and I’ll see what I can do!

In Shifted, the premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated  their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Previous installments…

Interlude – The Injury

Lallybroch, Autumn 1756

Murtagh hissed as Claire splashed the wound with raw whisky, muttering several very filthy words in the *Gaidhlig*.

Three-year-old William Fraser gasped from the doorway of Claire’s surgery.

“Out!” Claire ordered, head still bent over the deep gash that had sliced the top of Murtagh’s hairy foot nearly to the bone, drawing the lantern a bit closer over the smooth wood of the table Jamie had made her.

“Ye heard yer Mam! Out!” Murtagh echoed weakly, gripping the sides of his chair, bobbing his uninjured leg up and down.

Jenny appeared in the doorway and softly swept William away to the kitchen.

Claire rose from her crouch and quickly crossed the room, taking her tray of needles and the earthenware jar of sutures – the long, delicate strands of catgut Murtagh himself had helped Jamie prepare (based on Claire’s instructions) not so long ago – from the cabinet Brian had made Ellen when Jamie and Jenny were small. As stubborn as the Fraser who had made it, the cabinet had seen many uses over the years – from Ellen’s dishes, to Jenny’s linens, and now Claire’s medicines.

“It’s a miracle you didn’t slice your bloody foot off.” Claire’s voice was even, methodical. From years of practice, Murtagh knew better than to crack a joke when she was like this. “Weren’t you watching what you were doing? And hasn’t it *ever* occurred to you that we’ve already got a number of able-bodied men on the estate who should be doing that kind of work? I daresay your reflexes aren’t as keen as they used to be – ”

“What will ye have me do, then? No’ help Jamie wi’ the harvest?” Murtagh shifted uncomfortably in his chair – keeping his injured foot steady – and glared at the chignon pinned at the back of Claire’s neck, watching her carefully thread the needle. “Ye ken that Ian canna do it. Young Jamie is still too small to do much in the fields. Fergus can help, aye, and so can Rabbie MacNab – but it’s no’ enough.”

“You can stay here in the house – God knows there are enough children running around to keep you busy.”

“So ye want me to be a *nursemaid* then? Hmm?” Were he able, he would have pounded a table in frustration. “Is that all I am, now? Is it no’ enough that my clan and plaid have all been taken away from me? I must give away my *manhood* as well?”

Claire carefully brought the fully prepared tray to her work table and set it down beside the lamp.

“You *know* that’s not what I mean.”

He felt her gaze burning on him – and defiantly matched it.

“What, then? I am getting auld, yes. But must ye remind me, Claire?”

“I want you to take care of yourself.” She paused, pursing her lips. “You – you can’t just do anything anymore. You *must* be more thoughtful. I’m not saying you don’t think – of course you do. But I certainly *don’t* want happening to you what befalls most men your age. Or what happened to Brian.”

Murtagh physically recoiled. “That was due to shock – ”

“Of course it was – but he *had* to have had an underlying condition. Farming is hard. I’ve come to appreciate that so, so much since I came to Lallybroch. And of *course* accidents happen.”

Now she turned to retrieve a needle, the suture trailing behind like a long, shiny trail of dew. Then took the lantern in her other hand, set it on the floor beside Murtagh’s foot, and knelt before him.

“I can’t lose you,” she said finally. “You’re the only father I’ve ever known. And if I have to keep you bloody locked up in this house to keep you safe from yourself, then damn it that’s what I’ll do. You’re too important to me – and to Jamie – and to the children – and to Jenny and Ian and bloody everyone else in this house.”

She splashed more raw whisky on his foot. This time he didn’t – couldn’t – flinch.

“This gash is just an inch from your anterior tibial artery. Had that artery been severed, you would have lost an incredible amount of blood. And I wouldn’t be patching you up – I’d be amputating your foot. And where would that leave you?”

As gently as she could, she inserted the needle and made her first suture.

“I – suppose – wi’out a leg – to stand on,” he hissed.

Claire lay her left hand on the back of his ankle, bracing the foot to help with the stitches. Her face was still turned away from him – but he watched her shoulders shake in a silent laugh.

“Ye ken I’d never purposely put myself in harm’s way. I *do* always have ye and yer wee family on my mind.”

Claire pulled another suture through the two sides of the wound. “I know that. And I appreciate that. I should tell you more.”

“No need, lass. I ken it, and ye ken it, and yer husband kens it. That’s all that matters.”

She worked in silence then, pausing to collect the other suture she had prepared – but not before pouring the rest of her raw whisky in a beaker and handing it to her patient.

“Here – this should take the edge off.”

Murtagh sniffed the glass, then inhaled deeply. “Aye. It’s better than when we first made it – but it’s still enough to knock ye flat on yer back if ye’re no’ careful.”

Claire pressed the sides of the wound closer together. “So, will you be a bit more careful from now on? For me?”

He took a swig, exhaled, and then belched.

“Aye. Ye ken I’d do anything for ye, Claire.”

She nodded absently.

“Hey.” Now he nudged her side with the toe of his good foot. “That’s no’ the drink talking. That’s crabby old *me* talking. Aye?”

“Aye,” she echoed. “You’ve proved that often enough.”

Two more minutes, and then it was all done.

And Murtagh’s whisky was all gone. He handed the empty glass to Claire with a smile so wide that it reminded Claire of the Cheshire Cat illustrations in the book Uncle Lamb had given her for Christmas one year.

“Ye do mind me of Ellen, now and again.” He tilted his head, studying her as if with new eyes. “Foul mouth. Kind heart. Staggering to look at. And a heart so beautifully full of love that she doesna ken what to do wi’ it all.”

Claire flushed. They hadn’t spoken of Ellen since that night in the cave on the beach – a lifetime ago.

“So why would I no’ pledge myself to yer service? Why would I no’ heed every word ye say, Claire?”

Clearly he was waiting for an answer. All she could do was lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and kiss his sweaty brow.

“I’ll be right back, all right? Let’s get you settled in to bed upstairs. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

And when she returned with Jamie, who helped his godfather stand up and offered his shoulders for support to walk out of the room and up the stairs, Murtagh blessed Claire with another beatific smile.

“More whisky?”

“Now?” Jamie’s brows rose skeptically. “Ye smell like the still house – God kens why Claire thought *that* was a good way to fix yer foot.”

“First bed. Then we can talk about more whisky.”

Then Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser blew her a kiss, and for once in her life Claire Beauchamp Fraser was at a total loss for words.

Something more than smut, smut. S/C

I don’t know what this is. I wrote it last night after listening to some mellow tunes & a sipping a little alcohol, (who am I kidding. A lot). I don’t know if it’s a fic, or I pulled up a lawn chair and parked my ass in Heughan’s brain, jotting down his thoughts in my little composition book.

It will be posted on AO3 as well,( ) as soon as I get around to eating breakfast first (stupid clock change).

Just a Thought 

It’s like an out of body experience, making love to Caitriona. The way her eyes squeeze shut when I enter her. Or the low arch of her back, as her body begs for more, but can hardly handle the heightened sensations she’s already feeling. The barely-there sweat that dampens her brow or the crease that taints her forehead in concentration.

I live for all these little moments. They somehow seem to stop time, carry on forever, and yet, when they’re over, it’s like they never existed. A dream, that quickly fades in the morning light.

She awoke first this morning, or her body did, needing its fix. Consciousness be damned. I stirred as I felt a hip fall across my waist, then wet heat against my groin, grinding shallowly, as if intoxicated. We use each other’s’ bodies shamelessly and without question. Each granted unequivocal access. I lay still, allowing her to do as she pleases. As her body needs.

Caitriona finds completion against me, with barely an audible sound, and nothing more than a tightened grip to my side to expose her dirty little secret. That is, until I feel the wetness grow, my wiry hair no longer damp, but drenched in her sex. The smell fills the room, and intoxicates my senses.

I’m not here and not there, but somewhere in between, as my body lulls me to complete the necessary, filthy deed of self-indulgence. A necessary execution, if you’re to believe what human nature has taught us. I turn over, yielding to instinct, and acquiesce to my body’s demand.

I float outside my body when I enter her. Her slippery heat, tight as a vice. But still, it pulls me in, envelops me, welcomes me with wet kisses that sheath my manhood. I feel as though I’m in another world, watching myself make love to her. Like I’m in heaven, reliving the most beautiful moments of my life. She’s in them all.

I can feel each sensation, as I watch us from high above. The grip of her thighs around my waist as she pulls her legs up tighter around me. I can see the marks that traverse from my shoulder blades to my buttocks, as she scrapes her nails along my body.

I feel her womb with each thrust, longing to bury my whole being inside her. Curl up inside and never leave. I am a part of her and she of me.

Her head pulls back against the pillow, exposing her naked neck. I want to sink my teeth into her flesh. Drink her down. I want her to be a part of every part of me. I settle for a gentle lapping of her silky skin. The salty sweat tickles my tongue and my lips begin to suck. I pull her skin taught, sucking hard, and in some far-off land, I can hear her soft whimpers, they break my heart, but make me harder.

I’m like steel inside her. Nothing could bend or break me. I want to plant my seed inside her. I want to see her grow with our child. I want her death-grip on my hand as she gives life to our union. To the perfect blend of her and me. And then I want to do it all over again. I want to feed from her. I want her warm milk to flood my mouth the way I flood hers when she takes me between her lips.

I want to protect her and hold her close. I want to demand she never leave and do only as I wish. Make soft sweet love to her, while cooing with endearments, and then fuck her into oblivion. Make her accept every repulsive thought that has ever hitch-hiked through my mind. I want to command total and utter obedience.

I want her to hold me close to her breast, as I weep of fears, uncertainty, and sorrow. I want her to beat my chest in anger and drag me to my knees, begging her forgiveness. I want to feel her butterfly kisses speckle across my cheeks and eyelids and I want her to squeeze my testicles in possession, showing the world to whom I belong.

My body is on fire next to hers. We ignite a flame that never fizzles, only burns to a slow ember after completion, before bursting, like roman candles, full of fire and light, inside us once more.

The sweat of exertion pools around my lower back. I can feel her fingers dip into it on her path to my rounded cheeks, clawing at my skin. I struggle to keep my eyes open, my own pleasure taking hold. To watch her, would be almost too much to bear. To see her face in the throes of passion is an aphrodisiac all on its own.

I can feel my testicles, full and heavy against her skin, tighten. It’s an electric pleasure, as sparks shoot through my lower body. She meets my thrusts with a rise of her ass, slapping skin on skin. Skin in skin.

Her body is an amusement park. Each ride more thrilling than the last. A roller-coaster of screaming pleasure and fun. Her body is like a temple, to be kept secret. Worship and praise in silence, while you commit your body and soul to her.

My hands caress her body, folding under her ass to bring her closer. I take a nipple between my teeth, biting sharply, biting softly. I pull as much of her breast as I can, into my mouth. The swell of it, too much to take in completely. But they are mine. No other man will have them. No other man will have her. No other woman could touch me. No other woman dare blemish my body with theirs. I am hers. She is mine.

I feel the erotic pain rise within my body, from my toes to my fingertips, and every bit in between. I arch myself, my pelvic bone grating across her most delicious of buttons to push, eager to be swept into the abyss together.

Her fingers dig possessively into my buttocks as her legs tighten around me. She is close, she is with me. I let the flood-gates open, willing the tidal wave to rush forth and carry off into her body. I hang on tight, desperate to not float away. She hangs on tight, desperate to not fall away. We disappear into oblivion as one. One body. One mind. One thought.

All I can feel is wet. My skin. Hers. Our connected bodies. I sink back down into my body and feel my weight heavy against her form. I shift, but not enough to break free.  I cannot bear to part so soon. It’s always too soon. But lives to lead. Work to attend. Money to earn and bathroom breaks in between.

When we finally do part, nature proving its dominance over us once more, there’s a brief mournful moment. That small sliver of time, like a raindrop into a day-old puddle, distorting the peace, shakes you up. Up, until you can curl yourself into her body once more.

She always caresses me afterward. I never do. It’s a Caitriona thing, and I love her more for it. Her hand gently passes over my cheek and jaw. She mourns my loss too, I know. Mourns the fullness I give her, the hollowness of her body like an echo in a cavernous room. Vacant.

I let her stroke me and I hold on. That’s my thing. Holding on. Onto her. Desperate for her heat to warm my cooling body. Desperate for the love I know she gives unsolicited. I feel an intake of breath below my ear and I await the soft sound of her voice, eager to hear her words, but averse to breaking the silence.

“Do you know what you do to me?”

I say not but a word. For my eyes are her mirror. I see all of her, and all of me within her.

Yes. I know. For you do the same to me.