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#ulysses klaue x f reader
citrus-moonlight · 4 months
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Woven
- a Bringin' Home the Rain Interlude -
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"Bringin' Home the Rain" Master List: [ Part One ] 🌹 [ Part Two: "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" ] Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 3.9k Rating: Explicit
Summary: As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.
Summary: Explicit! Rating, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Smut, Public Teasing, Semi-Public Touching, Yes There's a Bed and Breakfast, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, You Have to Be Quiet, Klaue is Still a Menace But He's a Soft Menace, Fingering, Being Held Down, Reference to Edging, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation
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A/N: So I seem to have written some fluff, and holiday fluff, no less. I mean, it's still smutty fluff, and while I did go back and forth a bit with this, I really just wanted soft!Klaue, and finally reminded myself it's my story and I can write what I want (and apparently in whatever order I want 😂).
Also, yes, this this falls between the next two chapters of "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" that as of this telling haven't been written yet. However it doesn't affect the rest of the story, it's more of a very self-indulgent interlude, and while I may come back to edit in a few details once chapter two is published, it doesn't change the narrative.
As always thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this slightly late holiday fluff. ❤️
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Header by me, banners/dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics. ❤️
[ A03 Link ]
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Shades of early December silver and grey are rapidly setting over the landscape, the dark even faster.
Although the sun doesn’t set much earlier than it would if you were in New York City (ten minutes to be exact), being in the mountains makes it seem as though it does, and as the days tick by you find yourself craving a bit of light.
The holidays are coming, so you take the excuse to drape a strand of lights over your dresser, the soft glow helping to warm the nights a little. 
Still, you’re quickly becoming bored of winter, and it's only exacerbated by the new loneliness that works its way between your ribs when Klaue is gone - which is, of course, most of the time. You can only fill your days with so much work, and now that snow is settling into the mountains your options for distraction are growing limited.
Among your searches for things to occupy you, holiday festivals come up, and after a little more investigation you discover that Bucharest has a Christmas market that happens to be the largest winter festival in Romania, with the opening night and tree lighting ceremony this coming weekend.
Klaue wasn’t supposed to be getting back for a couple more days and while you’d mentioned your plans to him, when you step onto the train platform you nearly trip over your boots when you recognize a familiar form. 
Your stomach flips and something else swirls lower when you see him standing among the other passengers, hands in the pockets of a heavy black wool coat.
He hasn’t seen you yet so you make your way over to him, staying just behind his shoulder.
“Come here often?” 
Klaue turns with a start, appearing as though he’s about to say something but his words falter when his eyes catch on your bundled form.
A coy grin slowly curves your lips at catching him off guard.
“Got in a little early, came here straight from the airport to see if I could catch you.” he finally explains “I’ll still need to make some phone calls, but I’ve freed up the rest of my day. If you’d like some company. But if you- ”
“Of course, yes!” You assure him, a newly familiar warmth in your chest that he met you here, that he’s offering. “How could I not take advantage of you being back early.”
As eager as you are, there’s still a layer of uncertainty. 
It’s the first time you’ve spent any time with Klaue outside of the compound. Not to mention that very little of the time you have spent together has passed while you weren’t desperately wrapped in one another - certainly not a full day.
Though maybe it’s better this way; less time to overthink, less time to anticipate, simply having to adapt to a new situation. You’re good at that, you remind yourself. 
It doesn’t mean that your thoughts aren’t tinged with frustration, because even though he’d only been gone a few days this time your body is already humming with desire as you board the busy train and settle into your seats against the window. 
You manage to watch the scenery for a while, focusing on the mountains and the forests interspersed with other, smaller cities as you approach the capital, but your gaze is steadily drawn back to Klaue while he works across from you. 
Your eyes drift to his mouth, the memory of his growl when you nip and tug at the pouting curve of his lower lip leaving you shifting in your seat.
The motion draws his eyes to your hips before sliding up your body with a knowing look.
The full train douses any chance of much more than heated glances, but as you look around you, you note that the passengers across the aisle seem to be thoroughly engrossed in their own conversations and devices.
And you get an idea.
Appearing to casually adjust your things, you move your coat to your side facing the aisle, bunching it so that it blocks your legs from the view of anyone not standing over you. 
Or sitting across from you.
Klaue’s posture stiffens when he catches the movement of your hand along the seam where your crossed legs meet. 
You keep your arm still so that just your wrist slowly flexes, shivering as your fingers sweep up and over the place between your thighs that’s already warm with arousal, before retracing the path back down again. 
He's utterly still except for the muscles tensing in his jaw, eyes intent on the slow drag of your fingers. 
When he licks his lips your breathing becomes shallower. The gentle tingling in your nerves spreads through your thighs to swirl deep in your core, and you realize you’re rapidly becoming more aroused than you anticipated, and as much as you had thrilled at a chance to tease him you’re going to need to stop.
You hand stills and you take a slow breath to collect yourself, reaching into your bag for your phone hoping to distract yourself for the rest of the ride. But even before you can unlock it a message notification pops up on your screen.
>Who said you could stop?
Your eyes widen, finding Klaue’s gaze sparking blue and expectant when you look up at him. 
Patiently waiting for your phone to disappear back into your bag.
For your fingers return to their activity.
Clearly pleased that your tease has been turned on you, a smug grin on his lips when your eyelids flutter. 
The light touch isn’t enough to get you close, but it’s enough to make you ache, to leave you fighting to suppress the shivers that roll through you with the slick clench of your cunt as you watch his eyes darken.
Glancing down between where his hands rest on his broad thighs you can see the fabric beginning to strain there, the ache deepening at the thought of his stiffening cock, but you’re satisfied at least that he’s not unaffected by your state.
Wrapped up in the haze of sensation you start when the conductor’s voice comes over the speaker to announce that you’ll be coming into Bucharest in less than ten minutes.
Hitching a sigh, the world around you filters back in, and you bite your lip at the realization of what you had been doing, of how easily he once again had you giving in to him, even here.  
Eventually you take your phone back out, trying to calm yourself down before you reach your stop.
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It’s late afternoon by the time the bus drops you off at the outskirts of the market grounds, only a brief glimpse of sun left as it slides between the clouds and the horizon, but you still have plenty of time to explore before the tree lighting.
Making your way through the busy streets you take in the festive decorations, a popular restaurant absolutely dripping with evergreen boughs and giant candy canes, innumerable strings of lights already illuminating the streets as dusk settles over the city
As you make your way through the streets, you begin to think that it might have been a better idea to book a hotel room rather than taking the late train back tonight, but it’s too late now, everything is likely booked solid in the area.
If it had just been you then you would have figured something out, found a cheap place on the outskirts of the city, but since Klaue is with you you’re hesitant to ask. On top of not wanting to be presumptuous of his time, while you’ve spent as much time together as you could since that first night, you haven’t woken up next to him before.
You don’t dwell in your conflicted thoughts for long, though, because you nearly get taken out by a group of Hora dancers as you round the corner of a cobblestone street. 
Klaue quickly maneuvers you out of the way of the oblivious dancers lost in their steps, your arms instinctively reaching to tighten around his waist as you laugh at your lack of awareness.
“I've got you,” he chuckles, not letting you go. “Are you alright, darling?”
“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You assure him. “Apparently I need to pay a bit more attention around here. ” 
Being pressed against his body warms you and your eyes can’t help but flick to his mouth again, startled by how badly you want to kiss him right now. 
But you’ve never kissed him when you weren’t, well, naked - or about to be. A heated press of lips when you have to say goodbye, sure, but although you’ve both opened up a bit you’re aware this isn’t exactly the kind of relationship (not that you’re sure you could call it that, exactly) that allows for moments of casual affection.
So instead you smile and tip your chin down, and both of you take a wide berth around the circling dancers. 
But your heart still races when he doesn’t let you go, keeping you tucked against his side as you approach the bustling Square.
The delicious smells of festival food wafting over you are a quick reminder that you haven’t eaten since breakfast, too distracted on the train to think much about it, so as soon as you arrive you make your way to food cottages. 
Spiced kebabs for him and a steaming vegetable stew for you, followed by plum dumplings and papanasi, a kind of cheese donut that has no right to be as good as it is, and the time you’re standing in the square awaiting the lighting of the tree, you’re warm and satisfied. 
A light dusting of snowflakes begins to swirl as the crowd counts down, one section briefly faltering until with a rousing cheer they all light up with the rest, glittering bright. 
It’s bright and beautiful and exactly what you needed, but when you glance up to see Klaue’s reaction you find yourself wishing for a little less light, your cheeks growing hot against the night air when you see that he’s looking at you instead, the glint in his eyes perhaps not entirely a reflection of the lights that surround you.
Afterwards you peruse the eclectic mix of Christmas ornaments, stoneware and other handmade items, sharing a little about your days as you wander between vendors. 
You describe a type of welding certification you’re thinking about getting, even though you’d really only need it if you were working in aerospace tech, and Klaue mentions to you that he’ll be away for an additional few days next month for a conference in Vienna. 
Disappointment jabs between your shoulder blades at the fact that he’ll be gone for longer than you already expected, but there’s a sense of relief, too, that he’s still letting you know about his plans - as much as he can, at least. 
You hadn’t really planned on making any purchases tonight, but at a cottage selling embroidery and needlecraft a crocheted patchwork blanket catches your eye, the woven pattern making you think of tea and honey, of coming in from the cold and being made warm on a dark winter day.  
After collecting your find, Klaue makes a phone call while you double back one more time to pick up some handmade cards to send to a few friends, pocketing the device as you make your way back towards him.
“Ferris wheel, then?” He asks, tilting his head towards the brightly lit ride.
“Yes! Oh, wait..” Pulling out your own phone you ucheck the time. 
“Oh,” you deflate a little. “Actually we should probably start heading to the train station, it’s getting pretty late. Can’t say I’m looking forward to how busy it’ll be.”
“Well, if you wanted to - everything near the market is full, but there’s a place on the other side of the city that has rooms available.”
You stare at Klaue for a moment. Having already dismissed the idea of staying somewhere in Bucharest tonight you’re unable to hide your surprise that he’s suggesting it. Still fighting the thought that you’d be imposing on his time, you mentally point out that he wouldn’t have bothered finding something if he didn't want to.
He raises an eyebrow.
“You really don’t want to take the train back tonight, huh?” You try to joke in an attempt to disguise your eagerness.
He steps slowly toward you, leaning in until the scruff of his beard brushes your cheek.
“I really don’t want to wait much longer to make you come, darling.” 
He must hear the hitch in your breath as you shudder at his words, pulling back to give you a knowing grin.
“Ferris wheel it is, then.”
***
The glittering view as you start to rise is stunning but neither of you manages more than a few cursory glances out the window before you’re moaning into his mouth and he’s sliding a hand between your legs. A pleased sound gritted from his throat when you rock eagerly into his touch, his lips tasting of frost and spiced wine when your tongue slips between them. 
Your own fingers tighten around the heavy fabric of his coat to steady yourself, one hand sliding above the collar to brush over the warm skin there, short shorn hair prickling beneath your fingers when they curl around the back of his neck to pull his mouth more firmly against yours.
Unfortunately it feels like no time at all before the wheel is slowing and Klaue is reluctantly removing his hand from your now aching sex, your hips bucking when he gives you one last firm caress as you come to a stop at the bottom once more.
“I’ll call us a taxi, then?” He breathes against your lips.
“God, yes.” 
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A gentle but steady snow is falling by the time you arrive at the small bed and breakfast, the thickening blanket of white softening the glow of multi-coloured lights on the trees outside. 
The owners quickly realize that you have no bags with you, and they’re kind enough to offer some pajamas for you to borrow in the form of sweatpants and shirts.
Unfortunately on the ride over Klaue had received a call about something that requires his attention for a while longer, so you’re currently still clothed and sitting next to him on the bed, your new blanket draped over your legs, 
You’d picked up “Jurassic Park”, the only english book on the small shelf in the common area, and you try to read a bit while he wraps up his business, stealing the occasional glance at him while he works. 
When a hand slides over to squeeze your thigh you shift instinctively into his touch, able to feel the heat of his palm even through the woven fabric.
“Patience, my darling.” He hums, his teasing smile deepening the creases around his eyes.
“Oh, you have no idea how patient I’ve been, Ulysses,” you reply, biting your lip at the soft growl that betrays his own restlessness has you biting your lip. 
As antsy as you are, and while it’s unlikely you would have been able to name it, exactly, you also feel content. Lulled by the shape of him at your side, the sound of Romanian Christmas choir music drifting through the walls, and the electronic tapping from his phone.
Your eyes wander around the room, amused by the volume of kitschy knick knacks and holiday decorations spread across the shelves, including a candle in the form of three Victorian carolers that looks to be many faded years old, yet seemingly never burned. 
While you’re wondering whether the tiny bust paintings hanging by the door are family of the owners or just thrift store finds, Klaue shifts to face you. 
Lifting the edge of the blanket he nudges you over so that you’re both lying on your sides beneath it.
“All done?” You ask as his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, letting out a pleased sigh when you feel the already stiff ridge of his erection against the swell of your ass.
“Finally.” The word vibrates through you as a hand slides down between your legs, curling around your clothed mound.
You immediately arch into him, reveling in the twin sensations of his fingers pressing damp fabric against your cleft and the slow grind of his hips behind you.
“Even like this I can feel how warm your cunt is.” Klaue rumbles softly. “You’re wet, too, aren’t you?”
“You know I am,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice low. Aware that if you can hear music through the walls it won’t take much to be able to hear you. 
“I should take my time with you. Especially after your...bahaviour on the train.”
HIs hand finds its way under your shirt, and you note the jut of his hips against you when his palm slides over your bra to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb and forefinger plucking at the stiffening peak of your nipple beneath the fabric.
“Should run my fingers over every inch of your body,” he rasps, an urgency filtering into his movements, into the rough, whispered rush of his words as his fingers reach back down to tug at the waist of your pants. 
Quickly you move to unbutton them, working them down along with your panties as you feel him shifting behind you, and then the hot length of his cock is sliding against your folds, slicking himself with your arousal.
“Should tease this needy little pussy until you're ready to beg.” 
Klaue bites back the last word as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.
“But fuck, I need to feel you come.”
Normally so thorough with you before letting his control slip, Klaue’s bare need has you unraveling and your moan is deep and unexpected when he suddenly sinks into you, a response to the sweet desperation in his voice as much as from the relieving stretch of his cock.  
“I know how much you love to make pretty sounds for me,” he pants in your ear, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hip and thigh. “But you’re going to have to be quiet tonight. Can you do that for me, darling?”
Half-stretched and aching, you somehow manage to swallow your moans, taking a few deep breaths to steady your voice enough to speak.
“Yes.” You finally breathe in a low, half-whisper. ”l’ll be good.”
He nudges deeper and you bite your lip to hold back the sounds that want you to make, that he draws from you so easily now.
“Yes, you will.” Klaue hums against your neck.
The only sounds in the room now are your panted breaths intertwined with the slick sounds of his cock slowly thrusting into you, the gentle creak of the bed frame beneath your shifting bodies.
Suddenly pulling the blanket off of you he grips your ass, pressing you open so that he can see where your tight hole is stretched around him, and while he normally takes his time to relish the sight he only lasts a few more deep strokes before he’s shifting you onto your stomach, his weight and his cock pressing you down into the mattress.
With your pants still bunched around your knees Klaue impatiently nudges your legs apart as best he can before working a hand beneath the curve of your hip and you buck, a squeak slipping from your throat when his fingers find your clit.
His chest heaves against your back, the tight, circling pressure of his fingers firm and insistent as your body swiftly draws taught beneath him. 
Instinctively you try to respond, to roll your hips into his touch as you chase the rough crest of your orgasm but you’re trapped, the broad warmth of Klaue’s body holding you in place as his fingers relentlessly work your clit until your muscles begin to flutter and tighten. 
”There you go” A rough whisper clenched between his teeth. “Let me feel you. Come on, darling, squeeze my cock.”
You try to stay quiet but you can’t help the tremulous whine that escapes your throat as your climax surges through you, Klaue letting more of his weight press into you as your body spasms beneath him, every muscle trembling as you clench hard around his cock.
“Christ you feel so good. Fuck, you’re going to make me come, oh fuck- ”
The tight grip of your cunt seems to be all that he needs tonight because with a sudden hard jerk of his hips you feel the blissful throb as he comes, muffling his own moan against your shoulder as spends himself helplessly inside you.
Klaue continues to grind into you as the pulsing of his cock slows, making sure his cum stays plugged deep in your cunt exactly where he knows you want it, the stroking of his fingers not letting up even as you twitch and gasp beneath him.
“One more, Mot. Please. For me.” 
Your clit flutters at his pleading words, and barely able to hold back your cries, your hand flies up to cover your mouth as he continues to work your swollen bundle of nerves, his hand slippery with your release that leaks out around where he stays buried in you.
Aching and breathless, feeling the muscles of his forearm flexing against your hip, your body finally succumbs to the needy slide of his fingers, muffling your half-swallowed whimpers behind your hand as he expertly coaxes a second, softer orgasm from your oversensitive sex, gravelly praises whispered against your ear as you stiffen and shudder beneath him.
Klaue stays pressed against your back as you both slowly recover, the weight of him warm steady, calming the tremble in your limbs as you float down through the afterglow. 
Eventually you let your fingers fall away from your lips.
“I’m sorry…I couldn’t- I tried to be quiet,” you stammer. “Wanted to be good, I- ” 
“You’re always good for me, darling.” Klaue soothes, pressing his words and lips against your neck, behind your ear. “Always.”
***
After a quick shower you both change into your makeshift pajamas, then turning off the bedside lamps you settle back under the knit blanket, the lights filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow on the walls of your room.
“Come with me.” Klaue mumbles into the crook of your neck.
You were almost asleep, and it takes a moment to realize that he’d spoken.
“Come with…where?” 
“The conference. Vienna. There’s a gala.”
“Are…are you awake?” 
“If you’re asking whether I’ll remember this in the morning, the answer is yes.” Klaue chuckles softly. “You said you’d never been. Beautiful city. Wear a beautiful dress for me.” His voice drops as he pulls you more firmly against him.
You pause, considering, unable to ignore the soft thrill in your chest that he’s willing to share this with you. 
Another thread of your life intertwining with his, invisible threads looping over one another and knotting tight, tugging together into a pattern you’re still trying to bring into focus.
“Alright.” You sense a notch of tension release from Klaue’s body when you finally give him your answer. “I’d like that.”
It’s difficult for you not to overthink, especially when thoughts of what you’re going to do when your contract ends are becoming more persistent every day.
But knowing that you’re going to have to return to reality tomorrow regardless, right now you allow yourself to relax against him. With the tops of his thighs fitting against the backs of yours, soft music floating at the edge of your consciousness and his hand resting warm against your hip, eventually you find yourself caught in a net of sleep and dreams.
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A/N: I was looking a little wistfully at all the lovely holiday fics that were coming out, and thinking that I didn't really think I had anything that would really work. Then I got to playing around with a mood board and accidentally inspired myself with Christmas market thoughts, and now here we are!
Thank you for reading, and I hope you get through the remainder of the holiday season with as much light and little stress as possible. ❤️
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you lovely people!
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the-eyes-of-andyserkis · 10 months
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Think I Need a Devil to Help Me Get Things Right
Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader/Flight attendant Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 4.7K Rating: Explicit
Summary: After a particularly rough flight you're suddenly having anxiety for the first time in all of your years in the air, buyou end up finding help in an unexpected place when an enigmatic passenger offers you a distraction.
Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, But no specific identifiers, Description of Anxiety, Panic Attack, Mild PTSD, Fear of Flying, Pet Names, PWP, One-Shot, Semi-public Sex, You Have to Be Quiet, Bathroom Sex, Mile High Club, Dirty Talk, Light Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Mirror Sex, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms
A/N: Well, this was supposed to be a quick little smutty thing that ended up getting away from me! But it was fun, and a nice exercise to work on outside of my series. And even with not being able to write at all for a good few days of it, two and half weeks for over 4.5k+ words (from scratch!) is definitely a record for me!
I have to give a shout-out to the many thots that come from the Andy Discord, and @tarrenterror for this one specifically. 😉 I hope you enjoy this little drabble that ended up turning into way more than that! 💕
Title is from "Learn To Fly" by the Foo Fighters
AO3 Link
Run and tell all of the angels This could take all night Think I need a devil to help me get things right
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Yesterday’s flight from Lisbon to Johannesburg had been a long and turbulent one with a very rough landing, much rougher than you’re used to even after three years as a flight attendant. 
The storms had kept you circling in the sky waiting for a break that refused to come, and after a long-haul flight the fuel was getting low so the pilot didn’t have a choice but to land. The plane hadn’t ended up going off of the rain-slicked runway but it was damned close, and you've been on edge ever since.
Even the tedious interview with the SACA Authority wasn't annoying enough to distract you for long, and neither last night’s patchy sleep, nor the mini-bar Red Bull are helping the persistent shake in your hands, but you have a fifteen hour flight to Corfu leaving today so you get yourself moving, hoping that a shower and some food will clear your head.
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It doesn’t.
You’re not able to eat very much either, but mercifully last night’s storms have cleared and takeoff into a cloudless blue sky is smooth and uneventful, although your stomach is still acting like the toast you had managed to eat was an affront to your body.
You've never been airsick and you'd really prefer not to break your streak, not least because of the razzing you’ll get if you do, so you’re grateful when the plane finally levels off so that you can find your equilibrium again, and once the “Seatbelt” sign goes dark you're grateful for the distraction as you start rolling the beverage cart down the aisle.
Working on autopilot you don’t realize how completely you’ve zoned out until fingers are closing over yours as you hand a passenger his drink, barely catching his question.
“Are you alright, love?” 
Nudged out of your daze you finally look down at the man you’re serving.
He’s wearing dark jeans with heavy boots and a black button-up, the collar open to expose black ink across his chest and collarbones, sleeves rolled up to expose more tattoos on his forearms - or forearm, rather. Your brain tries to parse why his one arm looks not-quite-right until you realize it’s a prosthesis, although it's far more realistic than any you've ever seen apart from the distinct seams running through it. 
When you finally meet his you're quickly drawn in by bright blue eyes contrasted with tanned skin and dark salt and pepper curls, and while his hair is a bit shaggy you can faintly see another tattoo arcing beneath it.
It feels like your brain is on a delay, caught off guard by a combination of the inquiry and his striking features, and after several moments of your confused stare his eyes flick to where your hands are still connected. Suddenly you’re aware that inside the calm pressure of his fingers, yours are trembling, and it clicks that he must have seen the liquid shaking in the glass when you handed it to him.
"Oh. I'm ok,” You finally respond, giving your head a quick shake. “There was just a lot of turbulence on my flight coming in yesterday, and then we almost went off the runway, so..I guess I’m still a bit shaky, that's all.” 
You’re surprised that you answer him honestly but something about the way that he focuses on you, his eyes sharply observant, has you dropping the professional guard that you normally keep airtight with passengers. 
“Ah, that was you,” he says, finally releasing your hand and taking the proffered glass. “I heard about that. And you’re still back on a plane, today? That’s impressive.” 
His words are earnest as he tips his drink at you, and you find yourself fighting the flush that warms your skin at his praise.
“Well, it is my job," you reply, trying to keep your shrug nonchalant. "But thank you for your concern, sir.” Trying to brush off the brief flash in his eyes you work to settle your polite customer service mask back into place.
“Well, it sounds like you can handle it. But if you need a distraction,” the man takes a sip of his drink, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial timbre, “I might be able to help with that.” 
Meeting his eyes with a start you definitely see a dark glint in them now, the casual certainty in his tone that making it difficult to mistake his meaning.
It’s not the first time you’ve been propositioned - in fact it’s pretty par for the course in this world - and normally your reply would be quick and trite, saccharin words shutting down the standard attempts at flirting with a captive audience that you’re used to dealing with. But the teasing lilt of his words and the way the colour of his eyes deepens as they flick over your body sends an unexpected thrum of heat between your legs.
You're still trying to work out a reply when an annoyed voice cuts through the tension.
“Uh, miss? Maybe someone else could get a drink over here, today?"
“Of course. I’ll be right there,” you reply quickly, plastering an apologetic smile on your face, unsure whether you feel relieved or frustrated by the interruption. 
Relieved, you tell yourself. You're relieved. 
You manage not to look at the man again while you finish serving the rest of the food and drinks, but on your way back up the aisle when you finally allow yourself a glance as you pass his seat he calmly meets your eyes, making no attempt to hide that he was watching you.
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You thought that you were going to make it the rest of the flight without incident, but in the early morning dark just a few hours before landing the plane hit a patch of turbulence, and even though it was barely a shake you had jolted awake instantly.
Now, while the rest of the plane slumbers on you’re tucked in the alcove back by the washrooms with your eyes squeezed shut, jacket and scarf discarded at your feet as your heart does its best to escape through your chest wall. Even though the plane is perfectly smooth now your nerves have returned in full force, fingers tingling as you try to will the cold, hollow feeling in your gut away from spreading into your limbs.
You feel a presence enter your personal space at the same time that you see the shadow fall over you through closed eyelids, and the voice you hear is low and calm, sliding its way into your consciousness between panicked breaths.
“Take a deep breath, love.”
Forcing your eyes open, you see the tattooed passenger from earlier standing in front of you.
“I don’t know what’s- I’ve never been like this before on a flight,” you feel compelled to explain as tears of frustration prick at your eyes. “I just can’t catch my-” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down so you don't disturb the sleeping passengers.
He glances over his shoulder briefly and then back at you, pausing for a moment as he seems to consider something, and then his arm is around your waist and he’s quickly guiding you into an unoccupied washroom, following closely and locking the door behind you.
Taking your hands in his, he moves them so that your palms are pressed flat against his chest, and when he speaks his words are steady but firm.
“Now, take a deep breath for me."
As he draws a slow, deep breath himself it dawns on you that he wants you to mimic him, so on his next inhale you match it by taking a shaky gulp of air into your lungs, and when he holds his breath at the top of it for a few seconds you do the same. Letting your eyelids slip closed you find that you’re able to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, on the feeling of warm fabric over firm muscle, on the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hands.
You’re not sure how long you stay like this but steadily your nerves begin to settle, every breath calmer than the last. 
As your senses start to slide back into place you become aware of calloused palms covering yours, of your breath mixing in the shared space between you, and when you open your eyes again you’re greeted by the sight of both of your hands framing his chest beneath the open collar of his shirt.
“How are you feeling now?” The soft gravel of his voice draws your attention upward, appraising eyes meeting yours.
“Better. I…thank you. Really.” You reply truthfully, feeling better than you have in the past forty-eight hours.
Logically you know that you should end this now, that you need to pull away and return to the rest of the plane to prepare for the approaching dawn, but instead you feel frozen in place beneath his gaze.
“Good,” he says, making no a move to pull away, either.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline still working its way out of your system, or the way that his hands sliding up your forearms makes you shiver, or the heady musk of sweat and cologne mixing with the warmth of your bodies in the close space, but when you do move it’s not to pull away.  Instead you tighten your fists in the fabric of his shirt and when you tug he immediately responds, crowding closer until your back is flush against the wall behind you.
Keeping his eyes on yours his hands drop to your waist before sliding slowly around the curve of your hips, and when he tugs you against him you gasp when you feel the stiffening curve of his erection pressing into your abdomen.
He leans in close enough that his lips brush the crest of your ear, and though his breath is hot on your skin his words raise goosebumps along your neck.
“Would you like your distraction now?”
You can hear the smile curling around the sweet tease of his words, and you hum an affirmation, unable to help the roll your hips against his arousal.
“What was that?” 
There’s a sharper edge to his voice when he prompts you again.
“Yes,” you say more firmly, startled by how he’s managed to drop your guard and stoke your need so quickly, the warm ache between your thighs swelling from his proximity and a few simple words.
Pulling back, a hand moves to cup your cheek as you look at him through hooded eyes, a thumb sliding under your chin to tilt your face up and then his mouth is closing over yours, full lips surprisingly soft as they drag across yours in a teasing slide, and just when you feel the faint flick of his tongue and you part your lips to deepen the kiss, he pulls away. 
For a long moment time seems to hang suspended in the sharp blue of his eyes, and then as if drawn by a magnet it’s you that’s moving and your mouth is on his again, your own tongue flicking against the seam of his lips and you sigh when he parts them. 
The kiss quickly deepens as you run your hands over the broad muscle of his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as his tongue swirls against yours, licking deeper and growling into your mouth when your hips start to roll against him more urgently. It’s not long before your touch grows frantic, both of you seeking more, fingers blindly grasping at fabric and tugging at buttons until his shirt hangs open, forgoing yours entirely as he tugs it up over your head before pulling you back against him, a hand sliding beneath your bra to cup your breast as he kisses you breathless in a growing fervor of tongues and teeth, 
When you try to lift your leg but your skirt stops you he tugs at the hem, pulling it up until it’s bunched around your middle and when you hitch your leg around his waist he grabs your hips in his hands, your cunt throbbing as he grinds you against the rough denim covering the now very prominent ridge of his cock.
Then suddenly his tattooed hand is finding its way between your bodies and sliding down to find the juncture of your legs, your mouth dropping open with a helpless moan when his fingers press the damp fabric against your sex.
“How are you feeling now, love?” He pants against your lips, his teasing words now rough with lust “Dis-distracted.” You huff a breathless laugh.
"That’s good,” he hums. “But you’re going to have to be quieter than that. You wouldn’t want to wake the other passengers, now, would you?”
His fingers press more firmly now, the friction of the slick fabric against your clit has you biting back a moan as you buck into his touch.
Taking a steadying breath you glance at the door before flicking your eyes back to his and shaking your head, No. 
With a pleased look his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as his fingers part you, sliding through your already damp folds and down to your entrance and you bite your lip as just the tip of his finger presses into you, gathering your arousal before sliding back up to nudge against your clit.
Then he does it again, fingers only swirling against the sensitive bud for a few seconds before dipping back down to find more of your slick, tracing and re-tracing the path along your sex until you’re trembling, and maybe it’s the altitude but you’re startled by how quickly you feel your orgasm building just from his teasing touch.
“Oh my god, I-” You whimper.
“What, love?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his words, but he must take pity on your desperation because his focus is only on your clit now, pressing firmly and quickly picking up on your needy rhythm as you rock against his hand, a shaky whisper squeaking from your throat.
“So close, oh my god oh-”
One of your hands flies up to your mouth to stifle the moans you can no longer hold back, faintly aware of rough words whispered into the space where you hover between anticipation and ecstasy, Let go, just like that. And then all of your thoughts are wiped away, eyes squeezing shut as your body tenses in bliss and you come hard, swells of pleasure surging out from the point where his fingers firmly coax your writhing hips to take what you need. 
His hand stays pressed against you even as the waves start to soften, feeling the aftershocks that continue to ripple through your cunt as your body relaxes and you drift back to awareness, and only when you go limp, your hand dropping from your mouth with a sigh does he release your thigh and remove his hand from between your legs. 
Though you’re still unfocused and trying to catch your breath, when his hands move to his belt your eyes follow, watching as he unbuckles it and then lowers the zipper, pushing his underwear and jeans down together until his cock bobs free, thick and glossy with precum at the tip. You lick your lips at the sight and he smirks at your greedy stare, stroking himself lazily a few times, smearing you along his length with the hand that was just between your legs.
Then without warning he grabs your waist, turning and pushing you forward and you have to quickly brace yourself against the wall as rough hands push your panties down around your thighs, and you hear a hitch in his breathing behind you as he grips your ass, slowly massaging and spreading you open.
“I’m going to fuck you now, alright love?” 
It’s a question that’s not really a question at all, but his rumbled words have you instinctively arching yourself into his hands and when you look back over your shoulder you go breathless, the blue of his eyes ocean deep and rough at the edges as he takes in the sight of your exposed sex. 
“Can see how wet you are,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself as he finds your soaked entrance again, and you barely manage to hold back a moan when he slowly slides a thick finger into your tight heat.
“Yes, you certainly seemed to like that, didn’t you?” 
His words are maddening but you’re unable to help the shuddering gasp when he adds a second finger, continuing to pump deep into you until his hand is shining with you.
“Shhh, listen," he hushes, and you bite your lip as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the soft wet sounds of the slide and suck of them every time they sink into you obscene in the small space. “Already so messy, but I want to know how much more of a mess you’ll make when I’m fucking you on my cock.” 
You whine at the loss as he withdraws his fingers from you, using them again to slick himself with your arousal before pressing forward, and you tremble with anticipation when you feel the thick head slide through your folds to line up with your entrance.
The grip of his prosthetic hand on your hip is strong as he holds you in place, the thought fighting it’s way through the lust that it’s more than just what it seems - and that you should probably be concerned by that - but you can’t seem to find the will to care when his cock starts slowly sinking into you. 
Your eyelids flutter and you have no control over the gritted moan that escapes from your throat as he stretches you open, and he quickly moves his other hand to cover your mouth.
“I’d love nothing more than to make you cry out til you’re hoarse,” he growls between clenched teeth. “To find out what pretty sounds you make when you’re desperate. But right now I need you to be good for me and stay quiet. Can you do that, love?”
You’re not actually sure if you can, but the only clear thought in your mind is that you need him to keep going, so you nod against the resistance of his hand. 
Feeling your agreement he releases your mouth and moves both hands back to your hips, continuing the slow slide of his cock into you. Just barely managing to tamp down the sounds he’s drawing from your throat you once again focus on taking deep, shaky breaths as your fingers grasp at nothing on the wall, and even though the aching stretch of him is almost too much all you can think is that you want more.
Laying your palms flat you brace yourself against the wall and push back, rocking your hips to encourage him deeper, but he’s thick and even with your effort there's not enough leverage in this position to take him as deep as you want to.
However that doesn’t seem to stop him from letting you try.
"You can do better than that, can't you?” His words are an infuriating tease. “Don't you want to take all of it?"
You know he can sense how frustrated you’re getting as you continue to move, but he's still keeping himself just far enough back that you struggle to take him deeper. 
“Don’t you want to make me?” You grit back, startled by the low heat of your words.
“Careful, love. I’m not sure that you want me to ‘make you’.” 
His words are black as pitch as fingers dig roughly into the flesh of your hips, your cunt fluttering around his cock at the warning in his voice.
“Ohhh, but look at that.” he sighs, suddenly. ”Aren’t you a sight.”
Your movements falter, confusion interrupting your frustration until a hand grips your chin and turns your head toward the far wall so that your eyes fall on your disheveled reflections in the small mirror there, gasping as you take in the image of yourself, glassy-eyed and panting and still desperately trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock.
When you meet his eyes through the mirror a slow grin spreads across his lips, and then his hand moves to cover your mouth again.
Your brows knit in confusion since you thought that you had managed to keep mostly quiet, but you only have a second to wonder what he's doing when without warning he thrusts hard, pulling you roughly back onto his cock at the same time and stifling your cry of surprise behind his hand as he finally buries himself all the way to the hilt.
"I know, shhh, it's alright, love,” he pants against your cheek. “Wanted me to make you, yeah?”
A muffled moan is your only response as he uses the hand that’s over your mouth to keep your head pressed back against his shoulder, then just barely pulling out of you he grips your hip tight with his prosthetic hand and thrusts back into you.
“Christ you feel so fucking good.” he grits out, rutting into you harder, and the fact that you can tell he's fighting to keep his own groans under control makes the bloom of pleasure in your cunt deepen as he fills you again and again, unable to hold back the whining pant in your throat at every jolt of his hips against your ass.
You try to brace your hands more firmly against the wall but your elbows buckle as he leans into you, thrusting hard, and you hold yourself on your forearms instead, hearing a delicious grunt in your ear every time he bottoms out. The muscles of your cunt begin to tighten, the angle and the deep friction of his cock grinding against the sensitive spot behind your clit sending white hot sparks beneath your eyelids, and you feel like if you could just get your fingers on your clit you’d be there.
You manage to steady yourself on one arm as the other hand reaches desperately down between your legs, the brush of your fingers over your clit rough and unsteady as he continues to fuck you but it doesn’t matter, it only takes a few circling swipes and every sense is tightening its focus on his cock and your fingers.
“Are you going to come for me again?” His growled whisper stutters with the rhythm of his thrusts.
But even if his hand wasn’t over your mouth  you couldn’t have responded, your only thought the breathless pressure of your climax rising higher and higher, blinding you to anything else as your vision goes grey at the edges and your body spasms around and against him, a desperate moan shuddering through your chest as your orgasm finally overtakes you. 
Not letting up he continues to fuck you through it, every stroke of his cock achingly deep, but it’s not long before you feel his rhythm start to falter and with a final few thrusts he stills, the tight grip of his fingers digging into your jaw until you feel the throb of his cock as he comes, shaking against you and biting back a guttural sound as he spends himself deep in your cunt. The last waves of your climax have you still clenching around him, and while the movement of his hips slows he keeps himself buried in you as deep as possible so that you can do nothing but take every last drop.
You gasp to catch your breath when he releases your mouth and finally collapses against you. Pressing you into the wall he pants into your hair, the weight of him almost helping to keep you upright while your body is still shaky and unsteady.
After a few long moments like this you eventually feel him shift and pull back, both of you biting back one last moan as he slowly slides out of you, finding yourself aching at the loss.
“You go out first,” you say, still slightly breathless. “I'm..I need a second to clean up.”
“No, you don’t.” 
His tone is casual, and you don't really understand. 
“Um, after that? Yeah, I do.” You laugh a little, assuming that he’s joking.
“No. You don't.” He repeats firmly and turns to face you, a glint of gold flashing through his grin as he finishes buttoning his shirt. “Because that wasn’t your distraction.”
“It’s...what?” You stammer, still trying to figure out what he’s getting at.
“Your distraction,” he continues, stepping back into your space “will be feeling my cum leaking out of you for the rest of the flight.”
Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open in shock.
“Maybe it’ll soak through your panties. Start dripping down your legs as you walk around serving coffee, and you’ll have to act like I didn’t fill your needy little cunt.”
“Jesus Christ,” you pant. “What...who the hell are you?” It’s all you manage to get out as your mind swirls at his words.
He doesn’t answer your question, but when his expression darkens you can almost hear the words he doesn’t say: Maybe it’s best you don’t know, love.
“You should get dressed.” His eyes flick pointedly to where your panties are still down around your thighs, your skin flushing with embarrassed heat as he patiently watches you finally absorb his meaning, but something in his smirk has a swell of defiance surging through you, and perhaps there’s another kind of heat there as well.
Doing your best to fix a neutral expression on your face you keep your eyes on his as you slowly pull the garment back up before tugging your skirt down from where it’s bunched around your waist. Finally you pull your shirt back on, straightening and smoothing everything back into place as best you can before quickly fixing your hair.
Once you’ve tucked your flyaways behind your ears you meet his eyes again with an expectant arch of your brow.
“Ladies first,” he says with a sly grin and gestures towards the door.
* * * * * * * * * *
He was right, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. 
There was more turbulence just before landing prep but you don’t feel the spike of adrenaline that you had before, as if the circuit of anxiety had been interrupted. Instead all you can think about is the slick warmth growing between your thighs with every step you take, and every time you glance at him he’s watching you, a persistent thrum of heat low in your belly at the knowing smile that curls the corner of his lips
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About two months later, on the same long-haul flight from Johannesburg to Corfu, you’ve started walking the drink cart down the aisle when you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm leaning on the armrest. 
It could be anyone, you reason. Lots of people have tattoos.
You pretend that you’re not eager to reach the seat, but as you approach your breath quickens when the distinct arc of ink running up his neck and beneath a fresh undercut comes into view.
“Hello, love,” he greets you with a familiar grin. 
Heat slides through your core when you hear the voice that’s haunted your dreams for weeks, and you try to keep your words steady as you repeat the practiced refrain.
“What can I get for you today, sir?” 
“I have something for you, actually,” he replies, reaching a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a folded slip of paper, holding it up for you to take. 
After a beat you pluck it from between his fingers, opening it to see an address that you recognize as a hotel not far from the airport. And a name.
Ulysses Klaue.
Somehow unsurprised that he would have a name like that, you meet his eyes as you tuck the paper into the pocket of your jacket.
“Your drink order, then..Mr. Klaue?”
“Whiskey, please. And call me Ulysses, love.”
You bite back a smile as you move to serve the next passenger, wondering if you’ll have to wait the full fifteen hour flight to feel his hand between your legs again.
But judging by the glint in his eyes when you look back at him, you having a feeling that you won’t.
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A/N: As always, thank you so very much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed reader's smutty little adventure in the sky. 😉
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eupheme · 1 month
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— fold into me
ulysses klaue x f!reader
rated e - 2k
tags: sleepy morning sex, nightmares, pinning down / body restraint, light d/s, fucking the thoughts from reader, teasing, edging, sort-of v. light degradation, PiV, vibrating appendages, oral fixation, implied creampie(s)
a/n: inspired by this post, I read it and had crush me thoughts
Klaue doesn’t want you to worry. In fact - when you’re in his bed, he doesn’t want you thinking at all.
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Klaue can hear you worry.
It settles over him, a silent weight as heavy as the gaze that drags over his profile in the soft, early morning.
You shouldn’t be awake. Not yet.
A rare day off, the promises of a day spent together. A nightmare waking you in the early hours instead - leaving you crying out as he’s ripped away by hands that clawed at him. Twining around his legs, threatening to pull him under - into the black depths, while you still reached for him.
They always seem to the come in the days just before he leaves. You can’t help the pit of worry that forms in your stomach - the fingers that rest against his ribs curling into fists, as you resist the urge to reach out and touch.
Craving the reassurance. To confirm that he is still here. That it was just a dream.
You were aware what you were getting into when you first started seeing him. There were secrets of course, but never about what he was. Your world orbited his, never fully joining, but you knew.
The stories and the whispered weight of his name. The deals and the fights and the danger. A twist of tattoos that dip beneath his clothes. The fresh and faded scars, and an arm made from metal.
That he was a bad man.
But never to you.
Your eyes drag over the angle of his nose. Past a strong jaw, the stubble darkening his cheekbones, to be scraped clean when he rises. To the thick fan of dark eyelashes against his cheeks.
And then a sharp glint of blue, as one eye cracks open.
“Should be sleeping,” He rumbles - the thunder before a storm.
Your reply is on the tip of your tongue before he is striking - quick, in spite of the breadth of his chest and shoulders. All you manage is a little squeak before he’s rolling you beneath him.
His weight presses into you - chest, hips, thighs. Pinning you to the bed as you squirm, an arm shoving under the curve of your spine. The other tucking under the pillow, as his cheek scrubs against yours.
“Klaue,” You protest, “I was just-”
“Don’t want you thinking,” His voice is low and rasping with sleep.
You huff, still shifting. But the weight - you have to admit it is nice. Crushing you into the mattress, a silent command to slow down and stop, for just a moment.
And so, you go still.
Taking in the moment. Seeing if sleep will tug at you again. Your hands slipping from beneath to slide up on either side of his ribs. Fingers folding together on his back in an embrace, the slow cadence of his breath warm against your ear.
It is soothing, but you’re too wound up. A skittering beneath your skin. Eyes fixed on the ceiling above - afraid that if they close, if you do sleep, you might dream again.
Your fingers eventually start to trace against skin, and he sighs at your touch. Nails dragging down his spine, the tips working into stiff muscles.
Only to freeze when you press too-hard into something tender - a hidden, half-healed wound - hearing the sharp intake of air through teeth.
The worry slips right back in.
He clucks his tongue at you. Don’t, you’re sure he’s saying. There’s a drag of his face against yours, bristle over soft skin, before it dips lower.
Warm lips press against the pulse point of your throat, the cant of his hips downward. It is now that you feel him - the thick curve pressed into the hinge of your bare thigh - that you squirm for another reason.
It’s difficult, with your legs pinned together, trapped between his parted ones. The hand between his shoulder slipping down and beneath sheets - flattening in the dip of his spine. The weight of his hard cock increasing, where it digs into bare skin, leaving a wet smear behind.
“Klaue.” You sigh his name this time, trying to lift your body against his. Hips to hip, the curves of your skin matching his. Gripping on now, instead of trying to slip free.
You crave him, and he rewards you. Splitting your thighs, his own working between them. Twining his ankles with yours, so much like the grasping hands from your dreams.
Theres another troubled flicker in your mind, before his legs are shifting. Slowly spreading them wide, taking yours along with them.
Opening you up, baring where you’re sticky and slick from the night before. From now - the press of his mouth and his words and his weight, as the need blooms in your belly again.
Your nose brushes his temple, in your search for him. Fingers twisting into thick, greying curls, trying to draw his face to yours.
A low hum of amusement, before he meets you. It’s hungry, your hands moving to wrap around his shoulder. Whining into his mouth when his hips lift and roll, his cock slipping down to press snugly against your cunt.
You swear you can feel every inch and ridge of him, as you clench in anticipation. Eyes closed as you concentrate on the sparks that arc up your spine with each needy buck of your hips.
How each time makes the velvet skin more slick, until he’s glistening with you. Nudging against your clit, teasing at your opening.
“This what you want?” Klaue’s lips brush yours. His voice still slow and smooth, content to wait. Letting you rut against him, as your teeth nip at his jaw.
You moan your assent, breathless. The weight of him presses against your ribs, leaving you dizzy. Another low laugh as he reaches between you, a fist wrapping around the base. Holding himself steady, the flushed head just nudging at where you need him.
“Come on, then.” He rasps.
And then, he goes still.
Leaving you wanting. Squirming again, as your eyes flip up to his. Seeing the darkened amusement, the careful way Klaue watches you. Fully awake now, but still keeping you pinned so carefully.
A living sculpture carved from flesh and muscle. Undeterred by the promise of your warm cunt, by the needy press of your lips against his skin and the thick weight of anticipation.
He wants you to do it.
You realize that, as he waits. It’s hard to move, with the spread pull of your thighs, pinned as you are. Hands bracing on his shoulders - trying to push yourself down, to impale yourself on him.
It makes you take him slow. Nails digging into his skin as he nudges a little deeper with each rock of your hips.
Leaving it impossible to think of anything else but him, as he splits you open. As you ache to be filled, already clenching down around him, trying to draw him deeper.
His breathing is harsh through his nose. Warm against your skin, the brush of his knuckles across your belly and breasts and tight peaks of your nipples on their way back up. Elbows and forearms planting in the mattress on either side of you, just barely adjusting his weight.
Each thrust of your hips is shallow. He’s not fully seated in you, only what you’ve managed to work inside so far.
It teases at what you want. What you need. Your initial spike pleasure quickly plateauing with the minutes that pass - the grind of your hips not nearly enough.
Leaving you teetering on the edge - your desperation dripping down his cock, sticky on your inner thighs.
“Please,” You try to whine, your face pressed into his neck. Mouthing at the brand, teeth scraping where shoulder meets neck.
The word become disconnected between your thoughts and your lips. Half gasped and half sighed, lost in the muted buzz of the city awakening outside.
“Are you still worrying?” He asks, his pulse fluttering against your lips. Betraying him, revealing that he’s not nearly as unaffected as he’s been pretending.
Hitching his hips forward, sinking deeper. Again your answer is more sound than words, drawn from deep in your chest.
“Oh,” He sighs, with that grin. Pulling back to let his nose brush against yours, seeing how gone you are, “You’re not thinking about anything at all, are you?”
Your thighs flex, brow pinching as he suddenly hilts himself. A gasp ripping from you at the way he fills you, your pussy making room for his thick girth. The heavy weight of his sack resting against the curve of your ass, coarse hairs already sticky.
“Oh, fuck. Good girl.” Klaue’s teeth clench, feeling how you wrap so perfectly around him. How you arch against his chest, panting as you adjust.
His voice dropping lower, with a smooth roll of his hips, “You listened so well, so I’ll give you what you need.”
And he does, the shallow thrusts you’ve managed turning into the rutting of his hips. Skin slapping against skin as the curves of his cock drag along your inner walls.
Pushing himself higher on his arms until you’re chanting his name, the fat head stroking against the soft, spongey spot that brings in the night again, making you see stars.
Your groan is guttural, eyes slipping shut again. No longer tethered to the bed, now somewhere far beyond - solely focused on the snap of his hips, the burn of pleasure with each plunge of his cock. Muscles already stringing tight, toes curling in blissful anticipation.
Missing his sharp smile in the early light, all white and shining gold. How he moves then, bracing himself again on a tattooed arm as the other slips downward.
The tips of his fingers whir - just barely activating the mechanisms inside. Pressing them cruelly against your clit, pinching the tight bud between two of them.
It’s too much - steady pulse of the vibration, the sharp punch of his cock. All-encompassing, until your mind is truly blank. The mindless grinding of your hips against his, chasing his fingers, the high that you can almost reach. Each breath shorter, everything winding tighter and tighter, and then -
With a ragged cry, you feel yourself shatter in his arms.
Your vision goes white and hazy as the edges, his name broken as you sob it. A different kind of wave crashes over you, the ripples flowing down your limbs, from your molten core.
His words muted, but you collect what you can. Growled endearments that slip between bared teeth.
“That’s it, sweetheart.”
“Look at you, so fucking good for me.”
It’s bliss, this frozen moment in time.
You’re boneless, when he finally slips his legs free, hitching your thighs around his hips. Pleasure-drunk on the ambrosia that glitters in your veins, his hand lifting from between your thighs to pinch at your chin.
His thumb smearing across your bottom lip, eyes darkening as you part them automatically. Tongue dipping out to taste yourself, a sweet tang against his skin.
“There you go.” Klaue coos, seeing the dazed look as your lips close around and suck.
His own end not far off, with the warm grip of your cunt and mouth - the broken echo of his name ringing in his ears.
Knowing for certain that he has you thoroughly distracted. Starting a slow pace as he grins, an idea forming. Your eyes fluttering - threatening to roll shut again when his hand slips free, your lips parting with a sigh.
His hips pulling back - easing his cock out just enough to circle his thumb and finger around the base.
The vibrations start again as he drives himself deep, traveling down his shaft. Pulsing inside you, nudging against that spot again, as your eyes snap open with a sharp cry.
If he can hold off just a little bit longer - he thinks - he’s certain to coax out another.
Because when it comes to you, he’s nothing if not thorough.
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This time, when he relaxes - his weight settling over you, a warm and welcome blanket - you find that your mind has gone blissfully silent.
Content to fold yourself into him. Arms wrapping around, head tilting to rest against his. Mimicking without thought the easy rise and all of his breaths, your quickened pulse slowly following.
He murmurs something soft and low, though you’re already gone.
Off to a sleep that, for both of you, comes easy.
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He vibrated the glass, and it vibrated my - *gunshot*
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tarrenterror25 · 10 months
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Title: Please hold... Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1.5K
Summary: Klaue is not opposed to mixing business with pleasure.
Tags: oral (f!receiving), fingering, exhibitionism/semi-public(?), slight overstimulation
Notes: Self indulgent piece! Just something smutty and fun that's been on the brain. Wrote this really quick.
Read on AO3
In the sweltering hull of the Churchill, Klaue's got you on his desk in the small room he treats as a sort of office. The bits and baubles of his trades, the keyboard, the computer monitor have been pushed aside to make room for your ass. Rough hands caress you while your moans distract him from the incessant ringing of the phone next to you.
Klaue has your bare legs thrown over his shoulders while he sits in his chair, his face buried between your thighs as his strong calloused hands cup your ass to press your cunt closer to his face. His tongue laps at your folds and deliciously flicks your clit, and he growls when he feels your juices hit his tongue.
"Fuck, baby....taste so good," he groans before diving back for more.
Thank goodness no one can really see into the office from the glass panes that make up the other half of the wall. Or...at least you hope. You're certain that, despite the bulkhead door being closed, you're certain that someone could hear you down the hall, but it's the last thing on your mind.
You've lost track of how many times he's made you come. Each orgasm coming quicker than the last with how sensitive your cunt is. Your hands grip his hair and you throw your head back with a loud whine as your hips thrust voraciously into his face. "Just like that! R-Right there!" you beg.
Your eyelids flutter and your jaw falls slack as your legs contract around his shoulders and back to hold him to you. Your hands slip way from his hair and fall back behind you to brace yourself on the desk.
One of your hands accidentally knocks the the phone receiver out of the cradle and over the speaker of the phone you hear a man shouting at Klaue, angry for making him wait.
You gasp and a hand flies to cover your mouth and your other hand grabs Klaue by his dark curls. You try to pull his face away from you, but he's still going, his mouth sucking vigorously on your clit.
God.
He's insatiable and you love it.
But at the moment you aren't sure you want some foreign diplomat to hear you orgasm.
"K-Klaue!" you loudly whisper, giving his curls another frantic tug.
He just grunts in response. Then his blue eyes look up to make contact with your eyes and he trails his tongue from the bottom of your cunt to the top, never looking away.
Oh, fuck.
His gaze is still so dark and hungry as he looks at you.
Then his eyes slowly close as he lets out an appreciative moan. His grip on you tightens and he slowly peppers kiss to the inside of your thigh, his beard tickling you and making you squirm.
He looks back up at you with a stern expression and maneuvers your legs off his shoulders.
"Don't move," he commands.
He turns his attention to the phone and takes a breath to compose himself. Klaue leans in towards the phone and speaks to the caller.
You're not really focused on what he's saying, but how he's saying it. He's got that authoritative tone he takes on when he does business.
Klaue is a disheveled rugged mess right now; his chest is still heaving with each of his shallow breaths. He runs a tattooed hand through his hair and every so often his eyes dart towards you. He makes eye contact with you then his gaze flicks down to your still exposed pussy like he's making sure it doesn't go anywhere.
He's going over some numbers with the caller and sounds like he's trying to hurry the conversation.
You bite your lip and let your hand playfully creep towards your center.
His brow quirks up.
Your hand moves closer and closer to where you ache for him.
A little more frantically his gaze flits between your eyes and your hand while he speaks on the phone, like you're torturing him by having all the fun to yourself.
You watch one of his hands come to adjust his trousers, his cock clearly straining desperately against the fabric.
"Now, now, general," Klaue says into the speaker. "That's not what was agreed upon and you know that."
His other hand moves yours aside before you can touch yourself. He takes it upon himself to continue pleasuring you with his fingers. His eyes close when he feels how wet you still are and his lip curls into a snarl as he mouths a curse.
"It's no problem of mine if you didn't understand the terms that were laid out," he snaps at the voice coming from the speaker.
You sigh as his fingers delve between your folds and rub your slowly. He looks up at you and brings a finger to his lips in a "shh" gesture before sliding two fingers into your soaking cunt.
He moves his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, reaching deep inside you up to his third knuckle. You feel his rings press up against you, the gold threatening to also stretch you open and slip inside with his fingers. His head drifts from the phone over to your dripping sex taking his fingers with ease. He's not paying attention to what the man on the line is saying anymore. His free hand comes to rest on your waist and he kisses your bare thigh, his fingers curling inside you now to hit the soft spot that makes you whimper.
"...need to taste you again, baby," he says softly in between his kisses.
You shiver as his lips worship your skin. The person on the phone is still ranting. "In a minute," you say, your voice low and husky with desire. "Probably should finish up your phone call."
He grins up at you and removes his fingers. "I wasn't asking," he whispers.
He turns his attention to the phone and quips, "Oh, well good luck finding someone else to arm your security detail then, assuming the Avengers left anyone else."
As he speaks he throws your legs back over his shoulders making you gasp. You never knew he could multitask like this.
He dives back between your legs, his tongue entering you, his nose pressing right against your clit in just the right way. Your legs wrap tightly around him again, your thighs squeezing the sides of his head.
You looked down at his face trapped between your thighs and watch as he deeply inhales your scent through his nose, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as a growl rumbles forth from his throat. It vibrates through your flesh and you can feel it hit your cunt.
The other person on the line is furious now, their tirade loudly echoing off the walls along with your stifled whines.
Klaue is ravenous for you. His tongue finds your sensitive nub again and relentlessly flicks it. There's only so much you can do to contain your moans. his face moves just a hairs breadth in the right direction and a jolt of pleasure courses through you, taking you further into the throes of pleasure as he hits the spot.
"O-Ohh, FUCK," you moan involuntarily. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth and you start to cry out behind your palms.
"Klaue!!" the person on the phone shouts. "Are you even listening?? Klaue!!"
Klaue starts to sit up to address the caller, but one of your hands comes down to tangle in his curls and keep him in his place. He moans appreciatively, approving of your gesture.
You're so close to the edge that you can taste it. The pleasure builds deep in your core, the pressure becoming too much to hold back.
"Klaue!!" The caller shouts.
One of Klaue's hands lets go of you to blindly fumble around the desk until it reaches the phone and hits the hook switch to end the call.
His mouth never leaving your sex, he sits up a bit and abruptly uses both hands to pray your legs apart at the knee to fully expose you to him. The sudden motion makes your hands come back behind you to brace yourself on the desk.
His tongue hits your most sensitive spot and your legs start to shake in his grasp. It's too much and you need to let go. You're crying out loudly now, not really caring who might hear either out in the hall or down below. You're almost on the verge of tears it feels so good.
Your body convulses as you come hard with a high pitched mewl, your walls fluttering and your juices soaking his face.
He laps up your essence then slowly raises his head with a grin as your limbs go slack. His beard glistens with your arousal.
You're panting heavily, but also return the smile, a hand coming up to lovingly push back his hair as you sit up and adjust yourself on the desk.
He stands and leans in close to you and kisses you deeply, his tongue immediately finding its way into your mouth and allowing you to taste yourself. He pulls away, hands resting on the edge of his desk as he looks at you with a smug grin, his golden teeth catching the light.
"Suppose that's one way I can start taking business calls."
He winks.
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tarrensbookmarks · 25 days
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Marvel
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➼ Ulysses Klaue ‣Bringin' Home The Rain by the-eyes-of-andyserkis Ulysses Klaue x FReader [Part One] {Part Two] ‣Think I Need a Devil to Help Me Get Things Right by the-eyes-of-andyserkis Ulysses Klaue x F!Flight Attendant!Reader ‣Kitten's Got Klaue(s) by eupheme Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader ‣Fold Into Me by eupheme Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader
➼ Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier ‣Petrichor by thornsnvultures Bucky Barnes x Plus size!F!Reader
➼ Miguel O'Hara/Spiderman 2099 ‣Miguel x Short!Reader by sunflowersteves ‣You're The Sunflower by fxllfaiiry Grumpy!Miguel x Sunshine!F!Reader ‣Honey-Sweet by fettuccin-e Miguel x F!Reader ‣More Than Enough by moonlight-prose Miguel x F!Reader
➼ Moon Knight ‣The Shades of the Moon by missdictatorme Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader ‣To Be Loved by moonlight-prose Steven Grant x F!Reader ‣Subtle Things by moonlight-prose Steven Grant x F!Reader ‣Love in a Single Breath by moonlight-prose Steven Grant x F!Reader ‣Echoes of You by moonlight-prose Steven Grant x F!Reader + phone sex
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dividers by saradika-graphics
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sisyphean-thirst · 10 months
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Masterlist
Wanted to put some ideas I’m working on down before I forget. I’ll beautify this later, when I’m not working.
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Ulysses Klaue
All About that Bass - Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader: Klaue. You. Anal. That’s the fic. One shot. WIP
Du Riescht So Gut - Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader: Before Everett Ross, there was you. Klaue decides to have fun with his favorite CIA agent, but goes about it all wrong. Short Multi-Chapter. More smutty than fluffy. WIP
I Need My Girl - Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader: Klaue is intrigued by the pretty merc he meets at a gala. The ensuing first date is odd, extravagant, and highly enjoyable. Longer Multi-Chapter. Still workshopping. More fluff and smut. WIP
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David Robey
Toxic - David Robey x F!Secretary!Reader: You’re David’s new secretary. Despite his attempts to frustrate you, your work performance exceeds his expectations. He decides to give you some more challenging work… Mostly smut, some fluff. WIP
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Sergei Kravinoff
Superpredators - Sergei Kravinoff x F!Superpowered!Reader: Experimented on against your wishes, you’re just trying to find a new normal. One man’s scent unlocks a dangerous feeling within you… Sergei finds himself in the sights of another hunter; one who matches him in strength, speed, and animalistic nature. Oneshot. WIP
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mrsarnasdelicious · 3 months
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Alright, Yous asked for this - PART TWO
So, the list of all my drafts doesn't fit in one part...
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Riding the Beasts SCP 682 smut CW: Monsterfucking
Sihtric AU-arama Just all osrts of Sihtric AUs, in a long, big list.
Some good ass edging Edging Modern!Sihtric, straight up smut
I'll Be Your Prize [Finan x Sihtric] Uhtred tells Finan he can ask for the thing he wants most, so Finan asks for Sihtric.
The Things We Do With Power - I The Boys fic, mild fix it, predominantly wicked smut.
A very old promise Once Upon the beginning of my blog, I promised to write a certain poly smut thing, so here goes nothing.
All About A Gag Sihtric x Finan x Osfert. Sihtric fakes a gag and Finan is not having it.
Domestic - Lan Mandragoran Lan x Reader, being cute.
One Big Bed Poly Wheel of Time smut. Rand is a slut in this one.
The Pantsident Mark tore his pants. Mark x Reader smut
A Long Drive [Marnas] Mark rips his pants and Arnas makes full use of the situation.
Orgasm Desperation - Stephen Colley Stephen x Reader, with reader making Stephen beg for it.
BoB Sexarama Shameless, plotless smut headcanons.
A3 - Throuple Aethelflead x Aldhelm x Aethelred headcanons
BoB Poly Family BS You get involved with Finan, Sihtric and Osferth and raise children with them. Modern verse, headcanon list
Band of Bebbanburgh - XII - Getting Ink Done Uhtred, Osferth, Finan and Sihtric are getting tatted and Sihtric likes it a bit too well.
First Kiss - Draco Malfoy Set during book six.
First Kiss - Eric Northman Simple as.
Basically every thought I have ever had about Sihtric, but in a pile Full ass headcanon dump on my very fav himbo.
Good Good Good, Good Vibrations Mr F uses a vibe on reader, in public, sorta.
Orgasm Desperation - Game!Lambert Needy Needy Lambertini.
Lambert in the Middle Lambert getting some DP from Eskel and Geralt.
Another Lovely Puppy Pile Reader x Many witchers (and Jaskier)
Band of Bebbanburgh - XI - Tetanus Uhtred 'challenges' Sihtric to catch a pigeon. Hoemboy gets pecked and scratched, but has no tetnaus immunisation, so Finan and Osferth have to wrangle him to go to the dco's. Sihtirc does not like doctors and has to be pacified with sexy times from his boyfriends.
Giving Birth to Sihtric's Child It is not reader's first and it will most certainly not be the last.
TLK Underworld AU Headcanon List about a mafia au of sorts
Finan Eating You Out He's good with his mouth, let's be real
How He Met Me - VI August POV version of The Prophet [fic]
At the Desk - Napoleon Solo Napoleon Solo fucking reader on her desk, Arranged Marriage verse.
Sex in the Changing Room - Modern!Sihtric Raunchy dirty naughty Sihtric fucking reader in the changing rooms of the local clothing store.
On the table - Sihtric Canon verse, he humps you on the table
Sex in the Bath - Captain Syverson Bath sex with Sy
Ever Curiouser - I Hellboy Longfic, polyship.
Some Bebbanboys smut, bc I am nasty Smutty stuff with Sihtric x Finan x Osferth
Ben Daimio x Werewolf Reader A beastly smut
The Bebbanboys Band AU headcanons
Ben Daimio - Sneaking Around Smutty, you and Ben avoid getting caught while fucking on the job
Sweetheart Prompt #3 Ivar Lothbrok, suprise surprise
Band of Bebbanburgh - X - What Sihtric Does Best Smut fest about Sihtric sucking dick
Ulysses Klaue Smut Does exactly what it says on the tin.
No Way We Are Making Homework - Modern Ubbe Modern Ubbe x Reader. You should be making homework, but you are not.
Nasty Nasty Dirty Gross Ubbe CW: Incest Ubbe uses one specific way of making Hvitserk listen.
Ubbe x Alfred - Modern AU Ubbe and Alfred shower together.
This Home I Built - TLK Poly Fest Selfish fix it fic, lotsa smut, mainly about Sihtric.
Santiago Garcia Breeding Kink V1 Santi knocking you up.
Alpha Geralt Going Feral Nasty smut with no excuses
Sihtric - Breeding Kink V1 Sihtric knocking you up
Omega Sihtric Going Feral Needy Omega Sihtric
Alpha Geralt Scenting You Scenting sesh getting out of hand.
Santiago Garcia - Rough Sex Ah yes, more shameless porn with no plot.
Scenting Omega Sihtric Scenting Omega Sihtric gets out of hand.
My Fair Lady Shameless Aldflaed smut
Expectations - Loki Shameless Loki smut
Choking Sam Winchester Reader applying some pressure to a big moose, sexually.
At Saltwick What happened between Sihtric, Finan and Osferth while the kids were asleep.
Sex in Public - Sihtric Canon verse.
Neteyam x Au'Nung Neteyam almost died and Au'Nung is distressed.
Proof That I am an Aweful Person [TLK Poly stuff] More ReaderxPretty Boys headcanons
Fjall Stoneheart - Doggystyle Shameless smut
Band of Bebbanburgh - IX - Seeking Refuge Osferth goes to Finan when his homelife starts turning for the worst.
Breeding V1 - Jake Sully Jake Sully knocking you up.
Band of Bebbanburgh - VIII - Show You How Sihtric teases Osferth how to please Finan
Band of Bebbanburgh - VII - Small Comforts Finan having himself a slice of Sihtric.
Band of Bebbanburgh - VI - Sihtric's Dream Sihtric wakes up from a bad dream and Finan and Osferth put him at ease.
By God(s) and Men - Finan x Sihtric Canon verse; Sihtric and Finan figure out their dynamic.
The Baker's Boy - Finan x Sihtric Modern AU; Finan just realised he's been in love with Sihtric all along.
The Witan - Mark/Arnas/Reader CW: RPF and RPS Established Arnas x Reader and Past Marnas. Arnas convinced reader to come along to a TLK cast vaca and things spin swiftly out on his control.
All Three of Them Reader x Sihtric x Finan x Osferth smut
Threesome with Sihtric and Osferth Shameless smut with a lil twist
Threesome with Sihtric and Finan Dirty smutty smut smut smut
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deepdisireslonging · 6 years
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Commissions are Open!
My requests are closed for the moment until I have a bit more financial footing in my life. 
Commissions are simple: $10 per 1,000 words. If I go over by 300 or 400 words, it’s still just the $10. I can write as much as you are willing/able to splurge. A $10 deposit will be required for fics over 3,000 words, and $5 for anything below before I start on the commission. I have Paypal and CashApp. I also happen to own a typewriter, so if you would like a printed fic shipped to you (I would delete your address from my tech the second it ships), we can discuss prices because it would depend on the length of the fic, the weight of the paper to ship, and the shipping distance. Let me know if this is something you guys would be interested in!
All commissions can come into my DM’s. If you’re willing to share the fic or parts of it for the blog, please let me know. 80% of the fun of fanfiction is sharing it. Yes, I’ve written the fic for you, but why not share it (or a portion) with your fandom friends and we can all giggle/steam about it together?
As to general feedback: check this out.
****
The link to my asks are at the bottom. Please read this before. 
Rules First: 
1. A request is just that. It is not a demand. I am a human, not a fic robot. “Please” and “Thank You” are greatly appreciated. Even if you’re paying me, there is a level of decency you can ascribe to. I can choose to write or disregard incoming prompts at my discretion. Examples of fics I will probably never write:  
    “ Alexa Bliss smut where Y/N and Alexa don’t get along in the ring and backstage and Reader says something to piss off Alexa and it ends up in Alexa pinning reader in the lockerroom 🖤 (maybe with some hair pulling) “
^^^This is a demand. Plain and simple. No introduction. Though the details are great.
   “ kevin owens x male reader where kevin lost a match and is angry backstage and just smutty smut? “
^^^ Better. There’s a question mark, making it an option. 
    “ Hi! I love your writing about WWE! ❤ I saw that you have open requests. If it's not too much to ask, can you write two things about Ricochet? Dating with Ricochet would including / Sex with Ricochet would including / Thanks! ❤ “
^^^ Hell to the yes! Question marks, and a “thanks.” It’s inspirational and my mind is jumping with ideas instead of ‘oh no another request’ angst.
2. No underage readers/characters (including but not limited to Damian Wayne, Peter Parker, etc). If I find out you’re underage, I will block you. Please wait the year or two before reading my stuff. 
3. Do not request a cheating fic, a ship, or a real person fic. Hard no’s. Dub-con can be negotiated, but tight non-con squicks me out.
4. Please don’t ask when your fic is going to get done. I don’t know, so I can’t tell you. Repeated asks stress me out and make me not want to write it. It’s like being told to clean your room. Even if you were two seconds away from doing just that, the demand evaporates all will. Patience is a virtue. (Having said that, if you don’t see any mention of it for over a month, a quiet dm if I received the request won’t freak me out. I will keep contact through-out of how the story is progressing.)
**If it’s going to be a present for a friend/written on their behalf, please give me a heads-up of the due-date you’d like so I can prepare and plenty of turn-around time. 
Optional: I’m not super skilled at writing M|M or F|F. They take me a lot longer and I always feel like they’re wrong once I do publish them. Please have mercy. 
Follow these guidelines and we are golden!
*****
In general fandom tag and request options, there are DC, Marvel, Supernatural, and WWE.
  DC: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, and Jason Todd 
  Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Erik Killmonger, Kevin Ford, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Ulysses Klaue, etc.
  Supernatural: Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Lucifer
  Wrestling: I’ve written for both WWE and AEW, including some talents shared between companies. Also, other wrestling confederations (Ring of Honor, Impact!, NJPW, etc) but those take time for research. 
I can write more characters as they are requested (like I have for Elliot Spencer, Eggsy Unwin, Sherlock, Tim McGee, and Tony DiNozzo).  
Can’t think of a full prompt but you still want something personalized with your fave? Check out this: drabble prompt list [Send me a prompt (please include the whole line), a character, and pick smut/fluff/angst and I’ll hop to it.]
Random Asks Masterlist for getting to know me on or off anon
Fics Masterlist 
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citrus-moonlight · 7 months
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Salvation is a Deep Dark Well
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Chapter 1: Let's Cover Up What We Really Want
[ Masterlist ]
Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther
Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader
Word count: 11.4K
Chapters: 1/5
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Memories and fresh desires are intertwined now and you think you might go mad from the waiting, but all you can do is try to keep yourself busy as you count down to Klaue’s return.
Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Mention of Insecurity, Smut, Masturbation, Wall Sex, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Face Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Couch Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Love Bites, Thigh Riding, Frottage, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Accidental Plot, More Accidental Feelings Oh No
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AN: Hello everyone, we're back! Thank you for your patience, this was definitely a much longer time coming than I anticipated but I'm relieved to finally be here! Life happens, and everyone struggles for one reason or another, and I'm no different. It definitely became more than I anticipated but I'm glad I worked through it and that I can finally share this with you! As always, really and truly thank you so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy the return of the menace that is Klaue. 😉
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AO3 Link
Title is from "Dirty Love" by Mt. Joy
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I know you think I think too much But I don't know if it's enough Dirty love, all I want are your eyes on mine And underneath of it all I dream of a thousand shooters Hallelujahs, are unable to save us
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Twelve days. 
It had been so much worse this time, the waiting. 
Now that you know the weight of him pressing into you, the soft brush of his fingers as they tip your chin up, making you just as wet as the tight grip of his fist in your hair, the way that every damn word out of his mouth feels fine tuned to drive you mad and be grateful for it, leaving you writhing and opening for him in a way that you hadn’t anticipated.
You’ve spoken to Klaue once since that night, your stomach doing flips every time you read and re-read your text conversation with him. Still processing his admission that he’d been thinking about you, still not entirely prepared to believe that there might be something in you that he wants, the way that you’re starting to realize that you want him. 
It’s easier to assume that him seeking you out is nothing more than surface level, so you keep those thoughts quieter and separate from the rest, not wanting to read more into his words than are really there. 
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After Klaue left you had slept hard.
The next morning your mind is soft and clear when your eyes blink open, a notable change from the usual fog that you have to work to shake off. You don’t even remember falling asleep, and chuckle when you realize that you’re in the exact same position as when you had laid down, face stuffed gracelessly into your pillow with the covers half pulled over you.
Warm imprints of a dream trail after you, not dissimilar to the ones you’ve been having recently, although these are particularly vivid; ghosts of Klaue’s hands gripping your hips, his tongue sliding wet and hungry between your thighs.
But then you move, and when you stretch your arms above your head the contented sound you make deepens to a full moan at the sudden soreness that tugs though nearly every muscle in your body. Your thighs squeeze together against the ache that you feel between them, too, and the confused “what on Earth did I do yesterday??" shifts on a wave of realization that knocks you breathless.
Oh Jesus, it wasn’t a dream.
A wave of memories pulls you all the way awake and your body follows as the entirety of last night comes flooding back: You on your knees in your workroom, his body trapping you against your door, him pushing you to admit what you needed until he was fucking you and filling you and praising you, and your breath catches as the still raw ache twines itself together with fresh desire.
“Shit!” You gasp when your eyes fall on the nightstand clock, suddenly realizing that you’re going to be late for your shift, and you’ve never been late. 
Trying to move as quickly as you can, you throw some clothes on the bed and splash water on your face, hastily pulling your hair back while fighting stiff muscles and distracting thoughts. As you start to pull your pants on your fingers absent-mindedly brush over a dark smudge on your leg, but when it doesn’t move you look closer. 
Your breath hangs for several beats when you see the pattern of rose petal bruises trailing their way up the inside of your thighs, mementos that Klaue’s mouth had left on your skin and suddenly “late” and “early” are no longer concepts you’re particularly concerned with. 
Clothes and work forgotten you fall back on the bed, a hand slipping beneath the edge of your underwear to press against your clit, and it doesn’t take long before your breath is coming in short gasps as you tremble against your tightly circling fingers. All it takes is the memory of his eyes looking up at you as his mouth hovered over your sex, equal parts impatient and imploring while he waited for you to say his name, and then you’re over the edge, your muscles clenching around the lingering ache of him deep in your cunt.
Twelve days since your own touch had been nowhere near enough.
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A couple of days later it suddenly occurs to you mid-shift that the ache in your muscles has faded, and you immediately miss the tactile reminder of him even when you’re just walking around.
You hadn't really realized how long it had been since you'd been touched.
Normally it’s not something that tends to take up a lot of space in your mind, but once in a while you do find yourself thinking about the press of someone else’s skin against yours, a cool longing that curls itself up somewhere behind your sternum. But you’ve still never quite understood when people said they were “touch starved”, and more often than not being touched required an effort on your part, a consciousness that was tiring and made you too aware of the edges of your body. 
You had never been overwhelmed by friction, by singing nerves and sliding teeth, had never felt yourself succumb to it - or been made to. 
You’d already had a feeling that you might be in trouble when it came to Klaue, but now you’re almost certain. Because now you need it, his touch, and you wonder if he knew that you would. Every thought bound to his fingertips so that no matter where your mind wanders it always makes its way back to him, to the sharp sting of his palm, the pad of his thumb trailing along your neck.
So you try to do what you can to occupy yourself while you mentally tick off the days, just keeping as busy as you can, reminding yourself that first and foremost you’re here to do a job.
You start to work overtime to try and fill as much of your days as possible, but when you arrive on the ninth straight day and the fourth of self-imposed doubles, one of the shift managers you’re not as familiar with jogs over and blocks your path to the lockers.
“Uhh, what’s up?” 
The man is lanky and tall, he must be at least 6’5” and it feels like you have to look almost straight up to make eye contact.
“Not today.” He states simply.
Ahh, right. As soon as you hear his accent you can’t believe that you forgot about actual Vlad from actual Romania. 
“Not what today?” You frown up at him.
“Work.” 
“Ok, I’m going to need a bit more than that,” you say, trying to walk around him, but he matches you and moves to block your path.
“Boss’s orders.”
“You’re not my boss, Vlad. So I’m not sure what you’re-”
“Not me,” he rolls his eyes, clearly thinking you’re daft. “You know, ‘The Boss?’ Do I not say it right?” He uses his fingers to make air quotes in an attempt to clarify his meaning and you blink with realization.
“Klaue??” 
“Yes. Now go away. Two days.” 
It’s one thing for Klaue to know your schedule, honestly that doesn’t surprise you, but is he really trying to stop you from working?
Vlad just shrugs when you narrow your eyes at him, but you know he’s right. It’s not in his hands and it’s a waste of breath to argue.
“Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.” You finally give in and turn to leave.
“No, he says two-”
“Are you serious? It would have been a regular scheduled shift anyway, so I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Vlad frowns, unsure what to do with your resistance. 
“I’ll just work the first shift, no doubles.” You try to reassure him.
“He won't like it.”
“Then don’t tell him.” You turn away with a shrug as if that’s the obvious solution and not entirely delusional.
“He’ll find out!”
“Well, he’ll have to deal with it!” You say over your shoulder as you begrudgingly make your way back to your bunk.
You’re annoyed and unprepared for a day off and you can’t stand just sitting around with your nervous energy, so since it’s still early enough and the days-long autumn rain seems to have paused, you decide to drive a couple of hours away to a mountain lake bordered by trails. 
The weather is cool but perfect for hiking, and although the trail is steep and pocked with ankle deep mud in spots, you enjoy the ache that accumulates in your joints the longer you walk. 
After stopping for an early supper at a small lodge in the area with the resident orange tabby Mizzy (Marzipan is his full name, the server informs you) keeping you company on the next chair over, you still manage to return just after sunset.
* * *
Despite the physical fatigue from your hike you still sleep fitfully and end up wide awake in the early morning hours, which is when you notice the notification light on your phone, a flashing point next to your bed.
Your stomach does a very intense loop when you see that it’s a text from Klaue and you quickly sit up, flipping on your bedside light.
> Have you been thinking about me?
Oh.
You check the timestamp: thirty-seven minutes ago. You don’t know where he is so you have no way of knowing what time it would be for him. Would he even respond now, or would he be distracted with something else? Is he with people or alone, or has he fallen asleep? A hundred thoughts flit through your head, but you’re also buzzing from the fact that he reached out, and is likely well aware of what time it is where you are. 
What the hell, you think, and type a reply.
> Yes. > I haven’t been able to do much else, if I’m being honest.
You try to convince yourself that you don’t care if he responds, even if the staccato rhythm of your heart says otherwise, but you don’t have to dwell for long because after a few minutes you nearly gasp when a new message notification buzzes. 
> I’m pleased to hear it. > You took yesterday off?
Ok. Right to business, then.
> I did.
> And today.
> I haven’t decided yet.
You hit send, chewing your lower lip as you wait, but his response is decidedly quick this time.
> That wasn’t a question.
Shifting under the covers, you’re reminded that even through text his words have the ability to have your body swiftly warming.
> I know.
> And?
You pause, thumbs hovering over the screen. You really haven’t decided, and you could say no or yes to him now and still end up changing your mind in the morning. Maybe you'll be exhausted and willing to take the break, or you might still have energy to burn and want the distraction. 
There’s no other reason, surely, why you wouldn’t just do what he says.
> Ok. I won’t work tomorrow.
> Good.
> I’ve been thinking about you, too.
You inhale a shaky breath as your thighs squeeze together, the warmth that swirls there adding a boldness to your response.
> I’ve been wondering if you were. That makes me feel good.
It really fucking does, you realize, one of your hands working its way beneath the covers, and you shiver as you press the damp fabric of your underwear against your cleft.
> Well, I do enjoy making you feel good.  > I'm looking forward to doing it again.
> What if you already were? 
There’s a pause, longer than the rest, heat growing between your legs while you wait. Then:
> Where are you right now, darling?
You're still working out a reply when another message comes through.
> As much as I would prefer to continue this conversation, I have to go.
You slump with a grumble of frustration, however you perk up with his next message.
> But I should be back in two days.
Which means he’ll be back sooner than he’d said.
> I guess I'll just have to keep thinking about you until then.
You don't receive a reply back after your last text, but that doesn't stop you from moaning his name into your pillow, your heart continuing to beat hard in your chest long after as you think about how soon you'll see him. Finally drifting back to sleep just as morning light starts to illuminate the small window in your room.
* * *
You really do try to stick to what you'd agreed to but by the afternoon you’re once again too antsy to sit still, and your annoyance at Klaue telling you what to do is creeping back in. He may run the place but it’s not like he’s the one setting schedules, and would he actually care if you worked or not? Or even notice?
You had hoped that Vlad wouldn’t be there or that you would be able to avoid him, but the man appears seemingly out of nowhere - an impressive feat with his height. He just stands there with a long arm extended and wordlessly points towards the door, unphased by the scowl you aim back over your shoulder as you turn away in defeat.
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You've just finished a complicated project and are in the process of prepping the next phase when you notice a bustle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and then Tom walks into the workshop and lets everyone know it’s time to head to the loading dock.
He's back.
Every nerve in your body fires awake in a single hot surge and you have to fight to keep your expression and body language neutral while you hastily put away your gear and join the others. 
As soon as you make it to the dock you immediately start scanning the crowd and it feels like you can't get a full breath, like you’re being held underwater with your lips hovering just beneath the plane of surface tension and even though you're so close to a lungful of air it may as well be a mile away. 
Your heart jumps when you think you catch a flash of tattooed skin through the crowd. Someone pushes roughly past your elbow but you barely register it, your eyes flicking from face to face in the spot where you think you saw him, and then your breath is caught in your chest when two bodies part and the sharp profile and unmistakable arc of black ink emerges. 
Focused on his conversation Klaue doesn’t see you yet, so you watch and wait, your eyes not leaving him as he discusses something with a man you don’t recognize, a frown of concentration knitting his brows.
He looks rather the worse for wear, clothes dark and stained at the edges and the rest of him no better, his hands and arms smudged almost up to his elbows. Your mind goes hazy as you drink him in, overwhelmed by the thought of those hands grabbing your thighs, digging into the flesh of your hips and leaving smudges behind on your clean skin. Marking you.
Crossing your arms tight against your chest you try to tamp down the tremble in your limbs when he eventually steps forward and starts issuing instructions, and as you watch you think you can see his gaze moving deliberately over the crowd, your breath coming shallower as he gets closer to where you're standing. 
Then his eyes flick past you for a fraction of a second before returning to lock with yours, a hitch in his voice when they do. It’s nothing more than a brief stumble, a handful of words haltingly spoken before continuing on like normal, but you’re sure you hear it. 
He keeps his gaze fixed on you now, and even from a distance his sharp blue eyes have you held and pinned beneath them.
And you don’t look away this time. 
When Klaue approaches you afterwards you’re barely able to get out a “Hi” before you’re interrupted by a very large man saying something about a call from The Chancellor. 
It feels in that moment like maybe you actually could produce daggers from your eyes if you concentrated hard enough, but your frustration is tempered with sharp satisfaction when you see the flash of fear in the man’s eyes at the look Klaue gives him as he slowly turns to acknowledge the update. 
Once the messenger has slunk away, he turns back at you, resignation clear in his expression, but a glint of promise in his words.
“I’ll find you.” 
* * *
By the time everyone disperses your shift is over, and not knowing how long Klaue is going to be you decide to change and head to your workroom to pass some time. It’s turned into an unseasonably warm day and with no air conditioning currently running the facility is steadily warming up, so on a whim you decide on a dress, throwing on a simple knee-length white cotton shift with your boots.
A couple of hours later you've already reorganized all of your materials twice and now you're leaning over your sketchbook, a reference photo of the mountains from your hike the other day open on your phone. 
You try to focus on the relaxed strokes of linear shading but your mind refuses to stay put, not that it takes more than a wayward nudge to have your thoughts drifting to him instead.
You almost don’t notice your hands turn to a fresh page until graphite is finding his profile in the paper, the sharp line of his nose dipping to the curve of full lips. A few curls escaping above a sharp eyes and furrowed brow. It's not perfect but your breath still catches as his image emerges and anticipation wells up once again, a swollen river on the verge of overflowing its banks as you wonder for the seventy-fifth time if he’ll show up. 
Or if you’ll end up back in your room alone when you eventually accept that he’s not coming tonight. Which is fine, you reason with yourself, fighting the granite weight that’s settling in your gut. He’s a busy man, if he doesn’t have time, then- 
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
You whip around, your hand reflexively crumpling your sketch of the man who’s now framed in the doorway. 
It seems like he came straight here since he's still wearing the same clothes layered with oil and grime, and although it looks like he’s made some attempt to wash them his hands and arms are the same. Even so, your eyes are quickly drawn to where they’re crossed against his chest, the fabric pulled taut beneath them.
"You found me!" You finally manage with a laugh, quickly dropping your pencil and closing the now disheveled sketchbook, wondering how long he’d been watching you.
“Thought I’d try here first. I’m glad I did.” Uncrossing his arms Klaue moves into the room, and the heat that had been tempered by frustration while you waited now reignites in your core as he approaches.
"Jesus, you really are filthy."
It takes a moment to register that you just said those words out loud, biting the tip of your tongue between your teeth when you do.
"I can go clean up," he points back into the hallway, casually turning as if he were making to leave. "It won't take lo-"
"No!” It comes out more forcefully than you intend. 
He turns back to you, an initial look of surprise shifting to a soft smirk as his eyes move across your body, sharpening when they slide down over your bare legs as if just now noticing what you're wearing.
“No, I mean, you don't...have to do that.” You continue, shifting on your feet as his eyes continue their hungry path.
It's not just that you feel a peculiar madness creeping in at the thought of him leaving again, but you’re also definitely realizing that you like it. That the thought of his thick, smudged fingers contrasted against white fabric is making your breathing go shallow. 
Making you itch for him to make a mess of you, too.
“How did you even get like this?” You attempt to corral your thoughts, working to keep your tone somewhere between amused and lightly incredulous.
“I was in South Africa. Lots of work needs doing, and there was a rather limited supply of soap and running water, I’m afraid,” Klaue shrugs, looking down at his hands, and you bite your lip as your own gaze follows. “I have washed since then, but I need something stronger to do a proper job.”
You want to pay attention, really you do. You would happily listen to every little thing he could think to tell you, greedily gleaning hints of where he’s been and what he does when he’s not here, fascinated on a mechanical level how he keeps this entire operation running. 
But right now you’re losing the ability to focus on anything but the syrupy lust that’s pooling rapidly between your thighs.
When you look back up he's watching you with a relaxed stillness, having clearly caught you staring, and once you meet his gaze he steps the rest of the way into the room, not taking his eyes off of you as he closes the heavy door behind him.
Then your feet are carrying you across the last of the distance between you, hands quickly sliding up and around his neck where you feel firm muscle flexing beneath your fingers as Klaue’s arms wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him. 
“Did you miss me, darling?” 
Your heart jumps hearing the pet name again, and the intoxicating rumble that’s followed you both in dreams and waking hours pulls a shiver from deep within you, your eyes flicking between his as you tilt your head up.
“Why don’t you find out?” You pant against his lips.
Then his mouth is closing over yours, skin barely meeting before you instinctively part your lips and slip your tongue into his mouth, an arcing jolt of heat in your core at the soft growl this elicits from him. One of his hands moves to the back of your head to hold you firmly in place as he responds to you, the kiss quickly becoming messy with need as his tongue delves hungrily into your mouth in a warm, demanding slide.
You’re swiftly and willingly becoming untethered beneath his touch as you let him kiss you breathless, but your store of patience has been waning, and it suddenly drops to zero when you roll your hips and feel the ridge of his hard cock pressing into you.
Immediately your hands drop lower, sliding over his chest and abdomen and down to his belt where your fingers fumble blindly at metal and leather. 
Breaking the kiss his hands quickly brush yours out of the way, and as he removes his belt you step back and reach under your dress to pull your underwear down your legs, almost tipping over as you hastily step out of them with your boots still on. 
You haven’t even straightened all the way back up when you find yourself being spun and pinned against the door with a broad thigh pressed firmly between yours, the friction of the fabric of your dress dragging against your sex as your hips rock in response.
Pulling back, Klaue's dark eyes find yours as he reaches down to lift the hem of your dress, calloused fingers and cool metal trailing up to the aching spot where your thighs meet.
A gasp escapes your throat when the tips of two fingers drag along your cleft, and as they slip through the moisture that’s already gathering there something in his gaze seems to fall away, giving you a split second glimpse of a shade of blue that you’re not sure exists before snapping back in to focus on you. 
As you sense the resettling of his control his fingers begin to move with purpose, parting you and sliding so easily through your damp folds, slowly circling but not touching your clit before dipping back down down to tease at your entrance. 
Finding out exactly how wet you already are for him.
“You did miss me, didn’t you,” he rasps, allowing just the tip of his middle finger to slip into you before dragging the slick digit back up to circle your clit again, your hips jerking when he brushes the sensitive bud. 
“Yes. God, I need you.” Your hips eagerly seek more pressure, shuddering against the slip of his finger and the low words that chase a pleased sigh to drop straight down to your core.
“I know you do, darling.” 
Then he pulls away and quickly finishes undoing his pants, pushing them down to finally free his erection, and you're to keep from moaning at the intoxicating sight of his cock bobbing heavily between you. But before you can reach out to touch him with hungry fingertips he bends down to grip you under your thighs and suddenly you’re being lifted. 
With a surprised ‘Oh!’ your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he presses you back against the door and you feel him adjusting his hips to line himself up with your entrance, a stuttered whine spilling from your throat as he starts to press up into you, his answering groan making your cunt clench around the thick head of his cock. 
You feel almost mad with need, and there hasn’t been a day since Klaue left that the thought of him stretching you open again hadn’t crossed your mind but, god, he’s so much. 
Using his shoulders and the brace of the door against your back you attempt to keep yourself somewhat lifted so that you can have a second to adjust.
"Wait, you’re..I just need to-" But your stammered words are cut off when he thrusts up again.
"Ohh, but you’re doing so well darling,” he grits out, tightening his grip on your thighs to keep you pinned in place. Christ, I’ve been thinking about being buried in you since the moment I left.”
“So’ve I,” you pant, “but oh my god, you’re- oh!”
You let out a startled cry when he suddenly pulls away from the door, and now that you’re unable to properly brace against anything the weight of your body has you sliding further down his length, trembling arms hopelessly clinging to his shoulders as he works himself deeper inside of you.
“Don’t know if I can." You plead, even as the responding roll of your hips follows the line of needy flame that’s building deep in your core
"Don’t lie, darling. Not when I know how well you take my cock, now." Klaue scolds, his hands palming your ass and helping you to take him further as you writhe against that now familiar ache of overwhelming fullness. 
Every sense is filled by him as he fills your cunt; the scratch of his beard against your cheek a mirror of the teasing texture of his words, the scent of his musk leaving you lightheaded, a sinful petrichor that fills you with need even as he’s already giving you so much, and as he continues to buck up into you your fingers roughly pull the collar of his shirt aside so that you can lick hungrily along his neck. 
The skin beneath your tongue tastes the way the earth must taste to the roots of a newly planted sapling. A deep amber and heady thing that has a wave of drenching heat rippling out from your core as his cock starts to slide more easily into you, a harsh need flaring hot through your veins as your muscles tense and relax, opening for the unyielding thickness of him.
And while your body softens the current of your mind goes rough, your mouth watering as you continue to kiss and lick across his skin until without consciously thinking about it, driven by something else, something low and base that you’re not sure you could name, you sink your teeth into the place where the taut muscle of his neck meets his shoulder.
With a surprised hiss you're suddenly back against the door with all of his weight pressing into you, and you cry out when a rough thrust has him finally buried deep.
“That’s my little liar,” Klaue grunts with another hard thrust. 
You can’t respond in any meaningful way, only moaning brokenly as he builds a deep, steady rhythm, and it's not long until the aching stretch combined with the friction of his hips against your clit has your thoughts fading, the telltale thrum swiftly building as he fucks you.
"Going to come already, aren’t you?” He growls between rough breaths, his fingers finding new bruises in the soft flesh of your thighs as your muscles tighten around him. “Such a needy little thing." 
"Ohmygodyes, I’m so close, please-" 
“Hmmm, it's too bad you didn't listen, then, isn't it?” 
Klaue’s words are low and measured but don't make sense as they filter through the thick haze of pleasure.
"What?" You pant as his arms flex to lift you, pulling you up and off of his cock and you brace for a hard thrust back in. But instead he slowly lowers your legs until you don’t have much choice and your booted feet reluctantly drop back down to the floor as he releases you.
“Wait. What..what’re you doing?” Your now rumpled dress falls back over your legs as you stand there breathless and achingly empty.
“You were supposed to be resting.” 
Klaue’s tone chides as he tucks his erection into his pants and makes his way over to the couch.
“What?” You ask for the third time, shaking your head in confusion. And then finally it clicks. He’s referring to your self-imposed work schedule, and presumably your recent trip off-compound - not that that should be any of his business. 
He raises an eyebrow as the realization dawns on your face.
“I’m not saying you can’t do overtime, that's part of the contract," he continues. "But it's hard work and you work hard, and that many days in a row plus the doubles? You’re smarter than that." 
Struggling to work out a response, his praise couched in a reprimand only adds to the difficulty in regaining your equilibrium.
"You need to rest." His words are notched with an edge that doesn’t invite discussion, yet hot resistance still flares your chest.
"But I can't rest." you burst out, a new layer of frustration weaving itself in. "I can't relax, I-” 
You cut yourself off with a huff before you say too much, before you admit that he's the reason you can’t relax. Your lips press together into a thin line as your jaw works. 
Mention of your contract had also smarted a little, though why should it? It was a simple statement and the reason you’re here, after all.
You take a breath to steady yourself.
"It's not exactly like there's a lot to do around here, and it takes time to travel anywhere else, so I'm going to do what I can to help pass the time.” When you’re not here, you don’t add. “And by the way, you didn’t say anything about resting. You just said no work, and I didn't- "
"But you did try, didn't you?" He cuts you off with a dark look. “After you said you wouldn’t.”
Your face goes hot but you manage to not look away. Damn it, Vlad. Of course he's going to find out if you tell him.
"Listen, you don’t have to worry about me. I know my abilities and I don’t need you telling me what I can or can't do!" 
Even as the words are coming out of your mouth you know that your belligerence sounds foolish.
"That's interesting.” Klaue tilts his head and you have to actively fight the instinct to take a step back when his eyes darken to a perilous shade of blue. “Because I think you're going to do exactly what I tell you to." 
Despite your frustration, heat flares between your legs at the double meaning in his words. 
“And right now, that means you're going to wait to come on my cock." 
You can only stare at him open-mouthed while he watches you from his seat, a glint of gold flashing through the smug grin that tugs at his lips. And now you understand: He could have brought all this up as soon as he found you, but he hadn’t. He’d waited. Timing it perfectly to drive you perfectly fucking mad.
“Now, come here." 
You want to protest, want to dig in your heels and resist even as his voice draws you along on the tether of unsatisfied need that he’s already woven so masterfully in you. 
Instead you straighten your shoulders and slowly make your way over to the couch, trying to hide the hitch in your breath at the pleased expression on his face when you stop in front of him.
"Do you want me on my knees, again?" You ask, vividly recalling the last time you were in this very same position.
Your confidence wavers when you catch the glint in his eye, a flash of something dangerously sharp concealed beneath curling waves, but you can’t help but thrill at the moment of consideration you see there before his expression steadies again.
"Very much, darling,” Klaue hums. “But right now there’s something else I want." 
You’re getting increasingly impatient to feel him again but when you move forward intending to straddle him, his hands quickly stop you and you have to step back again.
“What did I just say?” He chides with a quirk of his brow, and you let out a frustrated huff.
“That…I have to wait.” You frown but then flush when you realize that you’re actually pouting.
“To come on my cock.” He corrects you, shifting forward to sit on the edge of the couch so that you’re standing between his knees. “But I’m still going to make you come before that happens.”
Your body reacts swiftly to his words, but then you’re caught off guard when his hands slide down your legs and begin unlacing your boots, finding yourself fighting the affection that seeps into your chest when he helps you steady yourself as he removes and tosses them aside.
Your attention is quickly drawn back to his touch, though, because as soon as you’ve straightened up his hands are brushing at the hem of your dress, pushing it up ever so slightly before sliding back down to your knees.
Looking up at you Klaue watches your face, a pleased twitch on his lips when your eyelids flutter in response to the inward curl of his thumbs. You know that he can feel the muscles of your thighs tense and flex as the firm pressure of his hands moves a little higher beneath the cotton hem, inching closer to where you haven’t stopped aching for him, before dropping back down again.
“Let me see, darling." Klaue hums, his words warm and teasing.
As though you had something you were hiding from him. And he wanted it.
You begin to gather the fabric of your dress in your hands, drawing up the hem, slowly, until you see his eyes darken as your sex is exposed to him.
“Did you think about this while you were gone, too?” You tease, but you’re quickly cut off when he leans forward and drags his lips along your cleft
“Thought about what? The taste of you?” You're unable to catch the whimper in your throat when his tongue flicks out, just barely parting you.
“Or that sweet sound you make the first time my tongue touches your cunt?” His voice goes rough as hands slide around to your ass, steadying you as your hips start to rock against the agonizing tease of his lips.
“Or that smart mouth of yours.”
Klaue drags the tip of his nose along your cleft and through the thatch of hair above it, and the puff of heated breath against your sensitive flesh has you clenching around nothing. 
Broad hands now move around your thighs to nudge you forward, a hand releasing your dress to reach for his shoulder for balance as he coaxes one of your legs up until your foot is resting on the cushion next to his hip. 
Standing open for him now his hand doesn't hesitate to find your center, the vee of his fingers parting your lower lips to expose you further, and the look on his face as he takes you in makes the wet throb deepen as you quickly understand what he meant by want.
After what seems like an eternity of looking Klaue finally leans forward to touch you, pressing his lips against your swollen clit he lets the tip of his tongue flick out to nudge and slip against the sensitive bud, until with a satisfied hum his mouth drops open and envelopes you. 
Soft grunts ripple through your sex, the wet heat of his mouth adding to the slick of your already dripping folds as he slides his lips and tongue between your legs until you begin to tremble, sucking and circling your clit until he finds that spot that makes your muscles go taut 
Startled by how quickly pleasure is coalescing beneath the quick, circling pressure of his tongue you don’t even have a chance to get any words out before you're coming. You can only gasp and then your body is bowing forward and you're keening as the waves roll through you, a strong arm tightening around your leg to keep you where he wants you as you ride out the crest of your orgasm, holding you against his mouth until the needy movements of your hips begin to soften.
When Klaue finally pulls his mouth away he holds you steady until you manage to find your balance again, but when you remove your foot from the couch and go to take a step back his firm grip once again traps you in place.
"Where do you think you're going, darling? He frowns with a curious tilt of his head. “I'm not done yet."
Then you watch as he moves forward and slips off the couch, shifting himself down until he’s sitting on the floor in front of you with the top of his shoulders resting on the seat cushion, head raised to look up at you standing between his legs and your mind goes fuzzy when he licks his lips, making a show of tasting you.
“Oh, you want-”
“Take off your dress.” He rumbles. “Now, please.” 
Feeling nearly hypnotized with want you quickly pull the garment over your head and toss it aside.
“That too,” his eyes flick to your bra, watching intently as you unclasp and discard that as well, your breath going shallow when you see the hunger in his expression deepen as he takes you in, standing naked before him. For him. 
“Come here.” That irresistible command again, expectant eyes fixed on yours as he waits, unmoving.
As soon as you take a tentative step forward he leans back, licking his lips again as you slowly lift one leg and then the other until your knees are positioned on either side of his head. Bracing yourself on the back of the couch his hands slide up around your ankles, gooseflesh prickling beneath his fingers as they trail up your calves to the crooks of your knees.
Your skin heats up when you look down at him positioned between your spread thighs, but you only have a moment to dwell in any self-consciousness when Klaue tilts his mouth up and recaptures your still fluttering clit between his lips as his eyelids slip closed, an expression of contented bliss deepening the crease between his brows as though he were savoring something exquisite.
“Fuck.” You whimper at the sensation of his lips around your oversensitive bundle of nerves, yet a soft heat is quickly building again.
But then he leaves your clit, and you sigh at the sensation of his questing tongue sliding down through your folds to find your entrance. Spread open above him as you are, he easily slips the tip of his tongue into you, and you shiver when you feel his groan that vibrates through you as your release floods his tongue. 
With fingers digging into your flesh he adjusts the angle of your hips so that he can slide deeper, moaning open mouthed against you as his nose presses and slides though your folds with every greedy plunge of his tongue, and you shiver when it nudges against your clit as he drinks you in, his panting breath both warm and cool against your aching nerves.  
Your thoughts are already a blur when his slips out of you and uses his grip to slide your cunt along his tongue, licking a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit and back down again, and you can only whimper and sigh as he rocks you against his mouth.
With your arms starting to shake you lean further into the back of the couch, and when this changes the angle of your hips Klaue quickly takes advantage, a hand reaching back around your thigh until you feel two fingers slide into you, and while you welcome the breach it also reminds you how badly you still want his cock. 
Although you also realize that was likely part of his intention, since you both know that you still have to wait.
You don’t dwell on this thought for long, however, because this angle allows him to hook his fingers, and while keeping them buried deep inside of you he starts dragging firmly against the spot that steals your breath. 
Klaue grunts when your inner walls clench and your thighs tighten against his face, waves of white-hot pleasure building in your core, and you can feel how much you’re dripping down your thighs and his face, skin sliding against the rough scruff of his beard that you’re dimly aware must also be soaked.
Pulling his mouth off of you with a wet sound he stares up at you for a moment and he’s a fucking image beneath you, panting to catch his breath, looking half-drunk with eyes as glossy as his lips and chin where they’re coated in your slick.
“Taste so fucking good, darling,” he praises, voice rough with honeyed lust. 
The slick squelch of his fingers is obscenely loud as he continues the curling strokes and you can only mewl helplessly, the clenching pressure spreading through you until your vision greys at the edges as you approach the brink again.
One of your hands drops to his hair, sliding your fingers into his curls and gripping tight as you lower your hips until your cunt finds his mouth again.
“Need you here.” 
You’re startled by the sharp demand that bleeds through the desperation in your voice, but are with a hum of appreciation as Klaue’s mouth falls open without hesitation, his eager tongue pressing flat as you grind against it and your hips fall into their own instinctive rhythm.
His other arm tightens around your thigh, seeming to anticipate it just as your muscles string tight and the arch of your back has you unintentionally pulling away. You sob as your orgasm swells up, all your senses but touch seeming to go dim so that even though you don’t hear it the deep vibration of his growl flows out from the point where his rough and greedy tongue is pulling you apart thread by thread.
“Oh my god, please, please, I’m gonna come, please make me come-” 
His name is etched on the cry that releases from your throat as you fall over the edge again, writhing and flexing against the grip that holds you firmly against his mouth as wave after wave sweeps through your body. Keeping his fingers buried, your release soaks his hand and wrist as thick fingers continue to pump into you, until with a stuttered cry it finally becomes too much and you have to pull away.
You revel in the heat of his breath on your thighs as you catch yours. Only when you start to slump does he eventually slide his fingers out of you, and it doesn’t take much to encourage you to tip to one side where you collapse on the couch a sweaty, panting mess.
While you recover Klaue slowly sits up, taking a moment to roll his neck before pulling himself to standing. Looking entirely self-satisfied and not bothering with the buttons he pulls his shirt over his head, using it to somewhat clean his face and hand before tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of your dress.
“You were so good for me, taking what you needed.” The pleased lilt in his voice along with the sight of him bare-chested and looming over you makes you shudder. “What do you think that means now?”
“That...that I get to come on your cock?” You ask, still breathless, not bothering to hide the hopefulness in your words as your eyes flick down to where you can clearly see the thick ridge of his erection straining against his half-zipped pants..
"Smart girl." 
You bite your lip and flush, even now your cunt fluttering at his praise, wonton need quickly blooming again at just the thought of him filling you.
“On your hands and knees for me then, darling.” Klaue’s voice goes deep, down to that place in the bedrock that tells you he won’t be holding back much longer. "I’m going to fuck you hard, and so fucking deep until all you can do is beg to come for me again.”
“Fuck.” You can’t help your pathetic whimper. “How do you- god it drives me fucking crazy when you talk like that." 
“I know it does. And how can I help it when you make sounds like that for me.”
Feeling like you’re glowing, anticipation builds high in your chest as you shift so that you're kneeling long-ways on the cushions. The feral curl of his lips makes you both cower and clench as he drops down a knee to the couch, the other booted foot staying planted on the floor as he positions himself behind you, the muscles of his chest and arms flexing as he roughly works his pants down.
You gasp as he suddenly half-lifts half-pulls you back towards him, and when you feel the brush of his cock hot and achingly hard against the back of your thighs you Instinctively arch your back, tilting your hips to unabashedly open yourself up for him. Knowing he can see the slick shine of what he’s already done to you coating your sex and the insides of your thighs.
“Ohh, and you think I’m filthy. Look at this pretty mess of a cunt, just begging to be filled.” Klaue purrs, gripping his length in one hand and sliding the head through your folds. “You want me to come in it, don’t you? Make even more of a mess.”
“God yes, I want you to come so fucking deep. Need to feel it again.” You whine as his delicious girth starts to press into you, one hand firm on your hip, the other sliding up to your shoulder.
“Oh, you need it, do you?” He teases, his words the rough slide of stone against stone. "Is that what you thought about, klein mot?"
“Yes. Every fucking day.” You turn to look back at him, your eyes imploring. “Please, Ulysses.” 
His name becomes a desperate keen, the ache of relief flooding through you as he finally starts to press into you again.
“Fuck, that sound is even better,” he grits as your muscles give in, stretching open around him. 
Keeping his hips nearly still, Klaue uses his grip on your shoulder to pull you back onto his cock in a slow, relentless plunge, and when you look back over your shoulder you see that his eyes are fixed on where you’re joined, his heated gaze as firm as the grip of his fingers on your hip.
You’re getting impatient, though, and you can’t help it: as you watch the mesmerized expression on his face, chest heaving rough breaths as you take his cock, you wiggle your hips, making a little show of taking him another inch, inhaling a sharp hiss through your teeth when his grip tightens.
“Stay still.” He rasps, clearly picking up on your tease, yet his voice is somehow desperately soft, soothing you even as his fingers dig harshly into your shoulder. “Shh, don’t worry, darling, you're going take all of it.” 
You can only whimper and clench hard around him, the tremble of your muscles deepening as you resist your body’s desire to arch and writhe in response to his words and his touch, biting your lower lip so hard that you taste copper. 
But somehow you manage to keep still.
Once Klaue senses your acquiescence he rewards you with a rhythmic, rolling motion of his hips that slides him deeper, deeper, until you feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against your heated skin, and with a final, less controlled thrust his hips finally comes flush against your ass. 
For a moment he pauses, breathing heavily but otherwise not moving, simply keeping himself buried in you and you revel in the feeling of being stretched and filled with him, agonizingly aware of every twitch of his cock against your walls.
An unbearable lust fills you, and you’re not sure how much longer you can stand it when the hand on your shoulder slides along your waist and over the soft swell of your hip, and then he's spreading you open to get a better view of where he’s buried, where you yield more easily to him now. 
Keeping you like this he pulls most of the way out of you before slowly sliding back in, and you know that he can feel fresh waves of arousal soaking him, can see it slicking his length as he moves. And even when he begins to thrust more quickly he also seems to be intentionally avoiding setting a rhythm, his movements stay just off-kilter enough to hold you back from the edge, first sliding into you in slow, deep strokes, making sure you feel all of him, then shifting to shallower thrusts, pulling back until just the head of his cock is teasing your hole.
“Oh my god, more-” You nearly sob, no care whatsoever to hide your desperation.
“Patience, my darling, you’ll get it.” Klaue’s voice is shot through with a distracted awe, his fingers tightening in response when you try to move against him again. “You’ll be begging soon enough.”
You’ve been focusing on keeping yourself upright but your wrists are getting stiff and your arms are starting to shake, so when he suddenly drives deep again your arms go out from under you and with the unexpected shift he slips forward, rutting even deeper and you both moan in surprise.
Catching himself he braces his hands on either side of your body before pulling back and thrusting again. Suddenly being buried in you seems to have severed the last of his control and he sets a steady pace now, the snap of his hips wet and loud every time he bottoms out as a heady pressure quickly blooms deep and incandescent.
Aching to brush your fingers against your clit you move to reach down between your legs, but he must notice you shifting, your hands scrabbling lower as your muscles start to tighten around him.
“Keep your hands where they are. You’re going to come like this, yeah?” Your hand freezes at his growled words.
“Going to have to fuck me harder, then.” 
You can’t help the taunt even though you’re barely able to get the stuttered words out through how hard he’s already fucking you, how close you are to coming entirely apart.
Suddenly you feel him shift and a hand is pressing down between your shoulders, the other leaning into the back of your hip, and then what seems like the full weight of him is braced against you and you lose all control of your body as he finally starts to fuck you, hard. Your knees slide back as he pushes you down into the cushions, and you can barely breathe as he drives into you, your eyes squeezing shut so hard tears escape between your lashes and dampen the rough fabric beneath your cheek.
His brutal rhythm has your thoughts lost, and you’re half aware that you're proving him right because now you're begging, a barely coherent string of pleasepleaseplease driven from your lips with every jolt against your body.
Pinned beneath the relentless weight of him you’re unable to do anything but succumb, overwhelmed by the breathless thrill of realization that all you have to do is let him take you, let him take care of you, and he does - each stroke of his cock assuaging every ache of frustration of the last twelve days, soothing every memory of your own fingers failing to satisfy you while you waited.
“Come for me, mot, just like that, god-”
The heat of your climax focuses to a point and breaks open deep inside of you as everything goes hazy and bright at once. Every muscle in your body strung tight as he hits the deepest part of you and you’re dimly aware of your cries as you come harder than you thought you could, Klaue’s thrusts not letting up as he continues to fuck you until you you can only mumble curses in gasps and sobs.
"So fucking good for me," Klaue pants, the hard, steady rhythm going rough and desperate as the control behind his thrusts wavers. “Going to make you take all of it.”
On the next thrust he stills suddenly, fully buried in you until with a choked groan and another jerk of his hips you feel the hard throb as he comes, the roll of his hips causing your back to arch as he continues to press as deep as he can, and you moan in relief when you feel his spend filling you with every pulse of his cock, the last tight waves of your own orgasm drawing every last drop. 
Finally he collapses, draping himself over your back, sweat slicking your bodies as his lips trail wet kisses along the back of your neck and eliciting a whimpered cry then his teeth find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, your pussy twitching as his teeth nip and worry at the spot before sliding his tongue, warm and soothing over the reddened flesh.
Shifting his hips Klaue pulls back out just an inch or two, hissing through his teeth from the overstimulation but then moaning louder than you do when he slides back in and you feel his cum and yours leaking out, feel the sticky slide of it where he’s pressed against you, the sensation tangling exquisitely with his rough whisper against your ear.
“Perfect fucking mess.”
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Sitting up in bed with a book propped open on your bent knees you’re attempting to read, but the lines of text keep going blurry as a familiar exhaustion starts to overtake you. 
Your thoughts instead slip back to standing in the shower with him, water rinsing the soap from your bodies, exchanging glances and brushes of wet skin as you move around each other in the small space. 
Standing under the hot spray you could see that even though he had in fact washed with your regular soap there was still considerable smudging on his hands and arms.
“This stuff is rather strong. I don’t want to subject you to that.” Klaue grins, holding up the bottle he'd brought with him which says something about charcoal, an aggressively orange scent filling the humid space as soon as he twists it open.
“Oof, yeah ok,” you laugh and begrudgingly step out of the shower, catching him watching you out of the corner of your eye as you grab a towel and slide the door shut.
You’d been surprised when he told you he would meet you back here after picking up the soap, but you’d tried to keep from seeming outwardly pleased. At first you assumed it was because he just needed to use the shower and your bunk happened to be closer, but when you open the door you see that he’d also brought a change of clothes, so he had gone back to his room anyway.
Still, there must be some other reason. The likelihood of more sex seems the most obvious, you suppose, not that that’s a bad thing. After all you’d certainly been hoping to take advantage of however long he’ll be here this time, and you try to focus on that thought instead, rather than worrying about the why.
So now you sit on your bed and wait in a fresh t-shirt and underwear, attempting to read but more accurately re-reading the same couple of sentences as you quickly lose the battle against your fluttering eyelids, drifting as you hear the water shut off…
…your head snaps up when Klaue emerges from the bathroom, raising his arms in a small ‘ta-da’ gesture.
You can’t help but grin as you take him in, all damp skin and ink and untamed curls falling across his forehead, but your tongue flicks out to wet your lips when your eyes wander to the towel that’s tucked around his waist, and isn’t currently leaving very much to the imagination.
He smirks when he sees where your eyes are directed and you fail to bite back a smile as he makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, but as he comes level with you he tilts his head, the crease between his brows deepening.
“You look tired, Mot.” 
“Nooo, I’m fine..” you protest, although it doesn’t sound convincing even to your own ears, and when his hand reaches up to your face you can’t help but press your cheek into his warm palm, humming as a sliver of bliss slides through your chest, and the last thing you’re aware of is the book suddenly vanishing from your grasp.
* * *
You feel fuzzy and disoriented. 
You’re pretty sure someone just spoke but you couldn’t guess what they’d said.
"I have to go soon, darling." Klaue repeats, strong fingers slowly massaging your shoulder.
You hear him this time but you still feel like you're a bit sideways, partly because that means that he’s still here, but also because you seem to have tucked yourself against his side, both hands curled beneath your chin and a leg slung across his thigh. 
"How-” The first word catches and you clear your throat. “How long was I asleep?" You mumble, one hand rubbing your bleary eyes.
"About an hour."
“What??” You squeak, raising your head suddenly. “That can’t be right, I feel like..I feel like I’ve been asleep for a day.” 
“I’m not surprised, you practically fell asleep right in my hands," he chuckles.
Gradually you start to accept that he must be right when you notice he seems to have been reading the book that you'd been failing to read before you apparently passed out, and that he’s also still just wearing the same towel as earlier.
You suppose you could just get your phone to check for certain, but it’s still in your bag and that would mean leaving the firm warmth of his chest, and you can't seem to drag your eyes away from the broad swath of skin right in front of your eyes, or the soft curl of hair that trails across it and down his abdomen. Down beneath the fabric that’s still, unfortunately, tucked at his waist. 
Laying your head back down you give yourself a moment to get your bearings, trying to solidify in your mind both that it's actually still today, and that Klaue is once again in your bed.
“Something the matter?” He asks, perhaps noticing your stillness.
“No, no I’m fine. I just.." Maybe it's because you're still only half awake and your filter isn't all the way in place tet but decide to just be honest. "I guess I’m surprised you’re still here. Once you showered I figured you would have gone on your way, especially after I passed out on you.” You smile sheepishly. 
“Well, I didn’t want to just leave if I didn’t have to,” you feel him shrug. ”Though, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to wake you," he teases.
“That, uh, happened last time, too.” You huff a laugh. “I just crashed as soon as you left.”
Thoughts of exactly what had exhausted you so thoroughly float to the front of your mind, and when your hips twitch of their own accord you’re suddenly and acutely aware that your clothed mound is pressed against his leg, just below where the towel ends.
Your breathing shallows, and though he doesn’t say anything you feel the broad muscle of his thigh flex as it presses against you and you reflexively arch into him as your leg tightens around his.
You chance a look up at him from beneath your eyelashes, bashful at your body's swift reaction until you see the knowing look in his eyes, smug when you moan softly and rock your hips in response to another firm press of his thigh.
Keeping your eyes on his you slide your hand slowly towards the towel, your heart rate speeding up when you see a dark shadow flit across the blue as your fingers play along the edge of the soft fabric.
"You have to go?" You sigh, pleased when you feel the muscles of his stomach tense beneath your fingers.
If he does then he’s going to have to tell you to stop - soon - the wet ache quickly spreading between your legs as you continue to slowly grind against his thigh, but then his hand is moving down your back and over the swell of your ass.
“So needy again already. I haven’t made you come enough tonight, is that it? Poor thing." Klaue tsks, his hand slipping beneath the edge of your underwear, and tugging down.
Taking that as his answer you don't waste another second, unhooking yourself you push the garment down and off of your legs as he finally untucks that damn towel, and you’ve barely turned back toward him when he grips your legs and lifts you until you’re straddling him before quickly divesting you of your t-shirt as well.
You start to press up off of your knees, expecting to feel his cock against your entrance, but instead his hands keep you pressed firmly down against him.
“I didn’t say stop.” His low words and stiffening cock both slide between your legs.
His hands move to cup your breasts as you start to move your hips, dragging your entrance along the velvety heat of his cock until the length of him is becoming slick with your arousal, and for several moments he watches appreciatively where he’s sliding through your folds, your hips bucking suddenly when his thumbs brush over the sensitive peaks of your nipples.
“God, I need you.” The rhythm of your hips grows quicker now. “Need you inside me.”
"Use me then, darling. Make yourself come and I'll fuck you again.”
You whimper as he rolls your nipples between thumb and forefinger, your hips tilting to find more of the slick friction against his now fully hard shaft, losing yourself as both sensations collide and collect somewhere at the base of your spine, your lips parting in a plaintive moan as you chase the crest of your orgasm.
“Look at me.” Klaue rasps.
You hear is words but you’re fading into the inevitable shimmer of pleasure as your hips find a tight rhythm, your senses tuned to focused points, fixed on the rough but soothing brush of chest hair beneath your palms, on every ridge and vein of his cock as it slides against your clit.  
So you gasp when your chin is suddenly trapped in the viselike grip of his fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes as his voice drops low. 
“I didn’t get to see your face before. So this time I need you to look at me when you come.”
Your focus snaps back to him and you’re startled by the look of reverence on his face, panting open mouthed as you rut against him, the hot blue flame of his eyes fixed on you as your climax overwhelms you and you surrender to the curl of his lips around your name.
Lost in the pulsing waves you feel urgent hands lift your writhing hips and position you over his cock, the trembling muscles of your thighs unable to hold you up at all now so that you can’t help but sink down onto him at the same time that he thrusts up, the stretch of him easier now but the ache deeper as he pushes inside of your still clenching walls.
Then he plants his feet and bends his knees, the sudden shift knocking you forward as he starts to fuck up into you, no waiting now, no teasing. An arm wraps tight around your waist as his other reaches up to slide a hand into your hair, fingers tightening until the delicious sting is singing through your nerves.
“Love the way your tight cunt squeezes my cock.” The rough warmth of his words finds its way through the still roiling of pleasure. “So good at taking my cum.”
Tears prick at your eyes as your bliss-dazed body relents to the deep, driving rhythm, and you’re barely able to brace yourself to meet his thrusts.
“Would you like to be good for me again?” Klaue’s pants roughly.
“Yesss.” you whine, overwhelmed at how even though he’s beneath you, somehow you still feel pinned in place.
“Try that again, darling.” 
“Please,” you sob, “fill my pussy. I wanna be so fucking good for you, please-” 
Releasing your hair his hand moves to grip the base of your neck instead, holding you firmly in place as you look down into his face, his eyes nearly black with lust, full lips parted as he pants and you can’t help but taste them, your mouth roughly finding his in a messy swirl of tongues and teeth that’s as much a kiss as a desperate attempt to find the breath that he seems to have stolen from you. 
Both of his thick arms wrap around your waist now and you simply try to hold on as he pounds into you, filling you again and again, and when you drop your face to  his neck his skin is scorching hot below the spot where his scruff rubs against your cheek. 
You ache to feel him let go again, and as his thrusts become sharper and more desperate your words come out in a stuttered plea against this neck
“Come for me. Please, Ulysses.” 
Klaue’s breathing goes ragged, and then his entire body tenses until with a shudder and a guttural moan you feel the warmth of his cum spreading inside you again, bliss swirling through you as you helplessly grind your hips to keep him buried as deep as possible.
The whisper of your name from his lips has you grateful that his arms are still holding you tight against him so that you can’t look into his eyes now, uncertain of what you might see there.
Still reeling from the look on his face as he held your chin in his hand and watched you unravel above him.
Still processing the word he'd spoken earlier, perhaps not even realizing it.
“Patience, my darling..”
My darling.
His.
For now you can only hope that he wants to keep touching you, because now that he has, you realize that he seems to have found some disparate elements of you that you didn’t know were separate until he was piecing them together with every brush of his lips and his hands and his words against your skin until you can’t help but feel anything but whole.
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A/N: Obligatory Frodo_it's-over-it's-done dot gif!
I hope that you enjoyed this foray back into the the smutty adventures of Klaue and reader, there is still lots to come for them! I have no timeline for when, of course, but everything for part two is drafted, and I'm looking forward it. 😊
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citrus-moonlight · 3 months
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Hello friends and welcome! I wanted to finally put all my fics in one place since I now have over 50K published (!!!), and also because I started out posting to one blog and then moved here to use as a separate writing/personal space.
At this point it's all Ulysses Klaue all the time, baby, but I do have a couple of WIPs started for Alfred Pennyworth (and perhaps a loose outline or two for a couple of other blorbos). I hope to get to them soon, but for now my dirty napkin of a man has me in a chokehold, so here we are!
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All works have an Explicit rating | 18+ only | Warnings tagged in each work/series as well as individual chapters.
And remember: Writers are little goblins for feedback, you have no idea how much we appreciate every single comment and reblog!
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Series
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Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for this gorgeous header!! 💕 Please check out her graphics blog @saradika-graphics!
Bringin' Home the Rain
"Let It Wash Us Both Away" (Part One) 25.4K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Complete!
You're no stranger to taking risks, in fact you prefer the unknown, however when you happen to cross paths with a certain black market arms dealer you find it uncharacteristically difficult to find your balance. (aka "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.")
[AO3 Link]
"Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" (Part Two) 11.5K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Active WIP!
After the realization that you don't want your night with Klaue to be one-time thing - and as you start to understand that he doesn't either - that persistent hum of desire to seek out risk starts to feel different; enticingly unfamiliar and drawing you in a way that for the first time makes you long to relinquish control to something, or someone, outside of yourself.
[AO3 Link]
"Find Me in the Air" (Part 3) Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Future WIP!
Planned final part!
"Woven" - A "Bringin' Home the Rain" Interlude 3.9K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | A little bit of smutty holiday fluff! | Complete!
As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.
[AO3 Link]
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One-Shots/AUs
"Think I Need a Devil to Help Me Get Things Right" 4.7K | Uysses Klaue x F! Flight Attendant Reader | Complete!
After a particularly rough flight you're suddenly having anxiety for the first time in all of your years in the air, but you end up finding help in an unexpected place when an enigmatic passenger offers you a distraction.
[AO3 Link]
"Danger Starts the Sharp Incline" 4.5K | Demon!Klaue x F! Scientist Reader AU | Complete!
At your scientific organization the study of demon energy output has become no less mundane than it would at any other research facility. That is until you find yourself trapped with the demon who has recently shifted in your thoughts from an idle curiosity to a distraction.
[AO3 Link]
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A list of other WIPs and ideas on the go! I have a couple more to add so I will update this one shortly as well!
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citrus-moonlight · 8 months
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"Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" - Masterlist - Part Two of the "Bringin' Home the Rain" Series
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Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader Chapters: 5 Word count: TBD Rating: Explicit
Summary: After the realization that you don't want your night with Klaue to be one-time thing - and as you start to understand that he doesn't either - that persistent hum of desire to seek out risk starts to feel different; enticingly unfamiliar and drawing you in a way that for the first time makes you long to relinquish control to something, or someone, outside of yourself.
Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Mention of Insecurity, Smut, Masturbation, Wall Sex, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Face Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Couch Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Love Bites, Thigh Riding, Frottage, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Accidental Plot, More Accidental Feelings Oh No, tags will be updated as chapters are posted
A/N: And we're back! Thank you to everyone who has read/commented on Part One so far. I'm excited for where this is going, and I and thank you all so much for your patience, I truly appreciate you all! 💗
[A03 Link] ✨ [ "Bringing Home the Rain" - Part One - Masterlist ]
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Title is from the album "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" by The Builders and the Butchers
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Chapter One - "Let's Cover Up What We Really Want" - 11.5K
Chapter Two - "Raise Your Chin and Howl"
Chapter Three - "Now When I See Your Eyes"
Chapter Four - "Running Through Blood, You're Alive"
Chapter Five - "Lost Through the Garden Gates"
Chapter Six - "The Fire That Blinds Me"
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Series header by me, dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics. 💕
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"Bringin' Home the Rain" - Part One - Masterlist
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Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Chapters: 5 Word count: 25.4K (Complete!) Rating: Explicit
Summary: You're no stranger to taking risks, in fact you prefer the unknown, however when you happen to cross paths with a certain black market arms dealer you find it uncharacteristically difficult to find your balance. (aka "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.")
Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Masturbation, Smut, Smutty Smut, The Smutty Kind of Smut, Smut With Accidental Feelings, PWP, But Also A Bit of Plot, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving), Reference to Predator/Prey, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Dom, Hair pulling, Begging, Finger Sucking, Spanking, Nipple Play, Oral (F! Receiving), Cock Warming, Mild Size Kink, Daddy Kink (Chapter 5), Unprotected PIV, Rough Sex, Creampie, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Needy Dom, Aftercare
A/N: Well, here I am with my first foray in the fanfic writing in almost two decades!
In my mind this is set somewhere between "Avengers" and "Age of Ultron". I wanted to give myself somewhere to go since I do have plans beyond this, and while this part can still function as a standalone, I'm currently working on a part two in what is now a series (which I have mostly figured out)! More updates on that as I chip away, but I'm hoping to be able to post Chapter One in the next few weeks!
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. 😊
[Masterlist - Part Two - Salvation is a Deep Dark Well] ✨ [AO3 Link]
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Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and and Butchers
Chapter One - "Storm" - 2.8K
Chapter Two - "Tides" - 2.8K
Chapter Three - "Demons" - 5.9K
Chapter Four - "Flame" - 5.1K
Chapter Five - "Foundations" - 8.8K
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the-eyes-of-andyserkis · 11 months
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Bringin' Home the Rain - Chapter 5: "Foundations"
Masterlist
Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 8.8K Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Explicit
Chapter Summary: You've passed the point of no return, but even now Ulysses Klaue seems determined to drive you mad.
Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Masturbation, Smut, Smutty Smut, The Smutty Kind of Smut, Smut With Accidental Feelings, PWP, But a bit of Plot if you squint, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving), Reference to Predator/Prey, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Dom, Hair pulling, Begging, Finger Sucking, Spanking, Nipple Play, Oral (F! Receiving), Cock Warming, Mild Size Kink, Daddy Kink, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Needy Dom, Aftercare
A/N: Well, here we go! I really want to thank everyone so much for reading and following along as I figured this out, and anyone who has commented or left feedback in any way has been so appreciated. 💕 This started a three chapter rough draft back in May 2021, and has been sitting in the back of my mind since then. I'm so happy that I started this blog and found some lovely people who maybe would want to read a silly little fic I wrote, otherwise this likely wouldn't have seen the light of day!
So, thank you again for reading, mind the new tags, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. 😉
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Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.
AO3 Link
You're evil as the demons that haunt you Forgetting what it was that they taught you And now there's no one left to stop you Or to catch you when you drop
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“Now, take your clothes off for me.”
You hear the words but your vision is still swimming, your limbs shaky and hot, and with the ghost of his fingers still lingering against your tongue you can only stare as he pulls his belt all the way through the loops, dropping it to the floor with a metallic thud.
The sound of your name cuts through your reverie. 
“Did you hear me?” Klaue prompts.
“I did.” You give him a languorous smile, your hands drifting to the hem of your shirt. “It’s just that I was...still thinking about your fingers in my mouth.”
“Yes, you do seem to like using your mouth.” Klaue huffs a laugh before his eyes harden. “It’s going to get you into trouble.”
“I’m not already in trouble?” Tilting your head you frown in mock inquisitiveness.
“I haven’t decided yet.” Klaue replies slowly, pointedly flicking his eyes to where your hands continue to linger at your waist.
“What happens when you decide?” You ask, shifting on your feet when his eyes lock with yours, the flicker you can see even in the dim light daring you to find out.
"Take off…your clothes." Klaue’s voice is gravely quiet, and not filled with an abundance of patience.
Taking a steadying breath and fighting the temptation to keep pushing, you finally start to follow his command. You remove your boots first, glancing up to see him watching you intently, heat flaring low in your belly at the pleased look in his eyes. Straightening back up you lift your shirt smoothly over your head and let it drop to the floor, his eyes following your hands to where your thumbs hook in the waistband of your pants, pushing them past your hips and down your legs until you can step out and kick them to the side.
It had been on a whim that you’d chosen the underwear you did when you went back to your room to hurriedly change, the only set that wasn’t purely utilitarian. You had rolled your eyes at yourself at the time - what do you even expect to happen - but now you’re grateful for the impulse as you straighten your shoulders and wait, letting him take in the sight of you in black lace, the animal hunger on his face making your cunt throb.
“Not done”, Klaue rumbles, the smirk on his lips belying the control that you can sense slipping. An expectant look falls quickly into impatience while his fingers work to free the last of the buttons on his shirt until it’s hanging open, and you lick your lips when you see the grey flecked curls that spread across his chest and down his broad abdomen.
The air in the room feels charged and a shiver ripples beneath your skin as you bring your hands up behind your back where your fingers find and release the clasp there, then ease the straps from your shoulders, slowly exposing your breasts before letting it fall to the floor with the rest. It’s a heady feeling watching Klaue’s eyes slide a shade darker as they pass hungrily over your body, like the first sip of honeyed liquor that burns your throat but leaves a sweet tingle on your lips. 
You feel somehow more than just exposed under his gaze, as though he were seeing deeper than your skin, finding a hidden sliver that you didn’t know existed at the core of you. You find that you desperately want to know what it feels like to stand fully naked in front of him, want to know what else he’ll see, anticipation sending a shiver down your spine when your fingers ghost along the band of your underwear.
“Wait.” 
You stop at the word, your brows creasing with a faint frown. 
“Turn around,” he continues.
Though you’re uncertain at the shift you do what he says, slowly turning around and then waiting, considering what he might want.
“Did I say stop?” Klaue husks. “I don’t think I said stop.”
An idea swirls into your mind, then. With your back to him you start to tilt forward at the waist while at the same time slowly sliding your underwear down your legs, continuing to bend further than you realistically need to until the fabric is at your ankles, your position now a mimic of what you had done earlier in your workroom. Only this time there’s nothing covering you.
You tilt your ass up to expose yourself further, and when you chance a look back you see that Klaue's eyes are fixed between your thighs, his lips slightly parted, and you know that he can see what you can feel, your folds wet and shining from what an afternoon of frustration and just his fingers had done to you. When you start to straighten back up you hear a rough whisper. 
“Don’t move.” 
Keeping your hands braced against your shins you listen to Klaue’s heavy footsteps approach, feel him stop just behind you, and then you flinch at the skimming touch of his fingers along the outside of your hips as he traces your curves before sliding up to fit his hands in the dip of your waist. You can imagine him gripping you like this to fuck you back onto his cock and you think - hope - that’s what’s about to happen, but then he’s sliding his hands back down to your thighs, and when he nudges the backs of your heels you lose your balance and have to quickly reach your hands out to catch yourself on the edge of the mattress.
You hear him shifting and suddenly Ulysses Klaue is kneeling behind you, directly in line with your sex.
“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs as he settles behind you. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” His words are teasing as he drags his fingernails along the backs of your thighs and up over the curve of your hips. Stealing your words with his touch you can only gasp as he continues trailing a path across the sensitive line where your thighs and ass meet, goosebumps flushing across your skin and you shift awkwardly, trying to squeeze your legs together to get some relief from his inflaming touch. 
Just as you’re starting to sink into the sensation of it he spreads his hands flat on your ass, gripping you firmly to spread you open, his thumbs playing near your soaked entrance where he can see your slick mixing with fresh arousal and starting to drip down your thighs.
“Is this all for me, darling?” His words make you shiver and you’re sure that he sees your muscles clench in response.
“Yes,” you moan, greedily pressing yourself back into his hands. “God, yes.” Your body trembles and you start to pant as he continues to tease you, skimming just around the edges of your folds. His breath is warm on the backs of your thighs and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you but then he moves away, sliding his hands down your legs instead.
“Don’t move your hands,” he directs you, helping you step out of your underwear while you’re still bent over and then standing back up.
Your hips slide back, seeking him, and you don’t have to move far before you’re pressing against the tented fabric that’s stretched across the curve of his cock. He keeps his hands at his sides as you roll your slick center along the hard ridge him, your mind going loose and syrupy at the sensation as you lose yourself in the building heat of it, but then he pulls away from you causing your hips to dip back as you lose the resistance, and he chuckles at your whine of protest.
"Look at the mess you made." he tsks, the front of his pants now damp from where you were rubbing yourself against him.
"I think you're the one who made that mess," you reply, breathless. It's not your fault what he does to you, after all.
Jumping at the sound before you actually feel it, the sharp slap on your ass sends a spike of heat up your spine and your eyes are wide when you jerk your head to look back over your shoulder, fists tightening in the fabric under your hands.
Klaue is completely still other than a slow furling and unfurling of his fingers.
Your mind is heavy with arousal yet simultaneously crystal clear. Your eyelids are heavy now as you look from his hand back to his face, fighting the giddy smile that’s sliding across your mouth as you sigh and arch your hips in acquiescence.
A grin curves his lips as he lands another smack, harder this time, keeping his palm against your ass and massaging the spot that’s heating up now. Leaning over you his other hand slides into your hair and then he’s gripping it tight and pulling you back up, and you feel briefly weightless as the brace of the bed suddenly disappears from under your hands.
Pressing his face against your neck the scruff of his beard prickles against your hot skin, the musk of him filling your senses.
"Who made this mess?" He growls in your ear. It’s not a question.
"I did," you pant.
The third time his hand makes contact is the hardest and you yelp at the sharp sting that sits on the penumbra of pleasure and pain and you moan at both as you grind your ass back into his hand, the heat in your core coiling out into every limb.
"Would you like more,"  he squeezes your reddening cheek to emphasize his meaning. “Or would you prefer that I fuck you?"
"Mor- no, wait!” Your senses are reeling and it takes a good few seconds to straighten out your thoughts. “Fuck me, please." You feel him laugh against you at your panicked stammer.
Releasing your hair, he turns you around.
"Are you going to listen, then?" 
"Yes." you answer firmly, a pleased spark illuminating his eyes.
Now that you’re facing him, though, your attention is drawn to his bare chest and suddenly all you can think of is touching him. You need to feel his skin.
At first Klaue watches your hands warily as they start to move so you're relieved that he doesn’t stop you when you slide them up his chest, soft hair and warm skin beneath your fingers feeling like an indulgence after how many times you’ve thought about it. 
Dipping under the edges of his unbuttoned shirt you push the fabric aside, helping slide it off his shoulders and arms until it drops to the floor. For a moment you just look at him, taking in the firm curves of broad muscle, the way the tendons flex in his neck and jaw when your hands continue to wander across the broad planes of tattooed skin, fingers finding pathways between the ink, trailing over his belly and inexorably down to the tantalizing vee of muscle that dips below his waistband.
Klaue’s breath hitches when your hand slides over his erection and he quickly grabs your wrist, halting your exploration.
“None of that now, darling," his voice trembles and you're pleased that you've managed to bring down a corner of his defenses, even though you can immediately sense them strengthening again.
“Sit down,” he commands, stepping you backward with hands on your hips until your knees hit the mattress and you can’t help but tip back, landing with a bounce. Klaue follows you down so that he’s on his knees again, in front of you now.
”I’m..still not sure if I-” you start to reiterate your uncertainty, but your words trail off when his fingers press into the soft flesh above your knees, firmly coaxing your legs open. Leaning back on your hands you’re mesmerized by the sight of Klaue kneeling in front of you, his eyes heavy and focused only on your cunt as your slick folds open up for him.
"I’m going to taste you," he says with a rough sigh. 
Not a request but a foregone conclusion as broad hands slide up your thighs to span flat across your hips, pressing into the curve where they meet your thighs and framing your cunt as an artist deciding where to begin. His thumbs press and spread you open so that a little more of you is exposed, skating inward but not quite reaching your cleft. 
Taking you by surprise he suddenly leans forward and you gasp when his mouth closes around one of your nipples, holding it between his lips and quickly flicking his tongue across the very tip of the sensitive peak before releasing it and moving to give equal treatment to the other. Your body arches as sparks of bright heat jolt from the point where his tongue is awakening your nerves to slide straight down to your core.
Klaue keeps a tight grip on your hips to fix you in place as you writhe and he presses more firmly with the tip of his tongue, continuing to flick and circle while your body stiffens with waves of clenching ache until you’re breathless and trembling, your knees reflexively squeezing his waist where he sits between them.
You’re starting to think that you’d be ok if he just kept doing this when with one last flick of his tongue he sits back onto his heels and presses his lips to the inside of your knee, the drag of his beard tickling your skin. 
“You’re rather sensitive there, darling.” he teases.
“Mmmyeah.” you pant, still breathless. “I think- I think maybe you could do that all night if you wanted.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Klaue smiles against your skin and you try to ignore the swirl of hope at his words, at the thought that this won’t be the only time, that maybe he’ll want this - want you - again.
Your legs start to open wider of their own accord as his lips slide closer to your aching center, but when your arms buckle and you start to lie back he stops you, reaching an arm around your waist to drag you back to sitting.
“Stay like this,” he says firmly. “I want you to watch." His full lips are wet and glistening, matching the shine he’s left on your breasts, and when you nod they return to your thigh, sucking on the soft skin for a few moments before moving to find a new spot, leaving a trail of faint, rose petal bruises for you to discover later. It’s a concerted effort to brace your arms and hold yourself up as he continues his path inward, but you manage. Because right now the only thing you want is to be good. 
Anticipation fills your lungs, leaving room for almost nothing else as he finally reaches your mound and pauses to inhale you before meeting your eyes as if to make sure they’re still on him, his hands spreading you open to expose all of you now, shining and swollen, and a shuddering gasp escapes your lips when his tongue flicks out to finally taste you. 
The tip of his tongue explores you slowly, sliding through your folds, tasting, divining, making soft, wet noises as he starts to take you apart at the seams and you’re shocked at the delicate violence of it. 
"Sweet cunt." You almost don't hear Klaue’s whispered groan as he drags his nose through the thatch of hair between your thighs, inhaling you more deeply, and then for a moment he stops and looks at you; not moving, just looking as his breathing becomes slow and rough.
His attention should make you self-conscious but it's just making you more turned on and you’re sure he can see fresh arousal coating your sex, but you don’t have time to wonder about much else because then his lips close over your clit, dragging a moan from your throat as you try to control the buck of your hips while still trying to keep yourself upright. 
He doesn’t use his tongue now, instead he simply rests his lips against the sensitive bud and then slides slowly across it in a teasing drag, slipping and gliding against your inflamed nerves until you’re nearly on the edge from the slick friction, startled by how quickly the heat is pooling as his lips gently torture you, and then-
-he pulls back again, returning to his previous activity of kissing your thighs. 
“Fuck, why’dyoustopkeepgoing.’ You breathe out all in a rush.
“Are you sure?” He asks, his question infuriatingly coy.
“What?? Yes, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your hips against nothing and Klaue raises a Puckish eyebrow as you awkwardly writhe in front of him. 
“You didn’t seem sure, before.”
“Jesus, I am now, ok?” You know how pathetic you sound but can’t manage to care.
“Of what?” he coaxes you “Tell me.”
“That I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan, unable to hold back the desperation from your voice. “I want you to make me come on your tongue. Please.”
"Well, since you asked so nicely." His eyes flick back up to meet your pleading gaze. "But I'm going to need you to say my name first, darling."
"Please, Ulysses." With a rock of your hips you sigh his name.
He groans, rolling his erection against the side of the mattress.
"That does sound lovely coming out of your mouth," he grits, eyes still on you. "But that's not what I meant.” Klaue’s voice goes deep, and the timbre of it combined with the Cheshire grin on his lips tells you exactly what he meant.
You laugh, suddenly giddy as it dawns on you, and it’s not that you’re averse to it but the only time you’d said it before it had felt silly more than anything and you almost had to stifle a laugh at how out of place it sounded coming out of your mouth. But now, open and needy and aching for this man, every nerve desperate to burst into flame, you realize that you want to.
“Say my name and I’ll take care of you, Mot.” 
It feels worshipful, the whispered groan against your thigh. You watch him transcribing a prayer of fitful shapes on your skin with his tongue, tracing patterns older than Eros that you wish he were drawing on your clit instead, and then you feel something breaking open inside of you and it comes out in a rush of desperation mixed with utter certainty.
“Please, daddy. I need your mouth on my pussy, make me come, please.”
The last word falls to a keening cry when his mouth closes over you, no tentative exploration now as his tongue slides obscenely through every dip and fold of your sex, making sure he leaves none of you untouched, licking and sucking and truly tasting you now, the wet sounds he’s making against your cunt obscenely loud in the small room.
Then he drags his tongue down lower to dip inside of your entrance, his mouth open and panting over you and your arms shake as you watch him press further inside of you, tasting your essence as it leaks out onto his tongue.
He pulls away again but your moan transforms from protest to pleasure when he slides his middle finger into you the same way did when he had you against the wall, but now with you spread open like this he can press deeper, all the way to the knuckle and you can feel the ridges of the rings on his fingers bumping against your sex as he slowly strokes in and out of your tight heat. Your head lolls back when he adds his index finger and even though it’s a tease of what you really crave, the sweet stretch of it makes you sigh in relief.
"If just two fingers has you in such a state I can't wait to hear the sound you make when you take my cock.” You clench around his fingers at the deep rumble of his words and you can feel yourself sliding closer to the edge when he swipes his thumb over your aching bud.
"You don't have to wait," you reply, pleading, feeling your mind slipping away as an aching pressure swells deep inside you.
"But you do." he growls back, continuing the slow stretching pump of his fingers, watching where they disappear, slick and shining inside of you. “Because right now you’re going to come for me.” Klaue returns his mouth to your clit, pressing his tongue flat and stroking you firmly, the needy movements of your hips giving him their rhythm to follow. 
You try to stay upright but as your pleasure builds your arms buckle he doesn’t protest this time when you fall to your back, instead he simply moves one of your legs with his free hand until it’s positioned on his shoulder and then wrapping his arm up and around your thigh
Done with words now you can only make soft pleading whines with every ripple of Klaue’s tongue, his compulsion to tease you finally replaced with a single-minded determination to devour you. Capturing your clit in his mouth he draws his lips up and over the sensitive bud, releasing it with a soft, wet suck, continuing this until the rock of your hips becomes a little sharper and then starting to trace patterns with his tongue, searching for and finding the angle that makes you stiffen and working that spot until you’re trembling against his mouth.
The sensation keeps building hot and fierce and you feel like you should have peaked but you’re still rising. You can feel it deep in your core, in your thighs, curled behind your sternum and you can only inhale short gasps, your hands trying to grip the blankets above your head in your fists in an attempt to tether yourself. 
You’re not in control of your body any more, nor the sounds that you’re making as you moan unintelligible sacraments and when you nearly buck him off he pulls his fingers out of you to quickly grip your other leg, and you can feel the flex of his biceps against your thighs, pinning you, keeping you locked in place under his mouth.
“Ulysses??” Not a question but a plea, it’s the only word you can form right now as your vision blurs at the edges and for a split second you’re afraid he’ll stop, but then he’s groaning against your cunt, lips trapping and sucking your clit with a sudden fluttering suction and your back arches off the bed as you finally crash blindly into your climax. 
It hits you like a wave in the ocean and you dimly hear yourself crying out as you tumble blindly, barely able to catch your breath between the waves of it as he continues to suck and circle your swollen bud with his tongue, unrelenting as you writhe and moan and if you could form words you might be begging him not to stop, oh god please don’t stop. 
When your trembling hips finally start to relax into a softer rock against his mouth Klaue releases your clit and slides his tongue down to where you’re soaked now and then licks a stripe all the way back up your slit before resting his open mouth over your sex, soft and warm, and you shudder at the vibration that spirals through you as he moans softly, drinking in the last pulsing waves of your orgasm that roll against his tongue.
Cool air soothes your heated flesh when he finally pulls off of you, untwining his arms from your legs and standing up. As your vision swims back you’re half aware of him removing the rest of his clothes and boots.
“I think you’re ready for me to fuck you now, hm?” He looks down, smirking at the sight of you limp and panting on the bed, fabric still gripped tight in your fists.
That snaps you out of it. Your eyes fly open to see his broad, inked form standing over you, the scruff of his beard still glistening with your release, and when you see his cock hanging heavy against his thick thighs you sigh and instinctively open your legs wider, your body still aching for him, to be filled by him.
“Please,” You sigh with a languid nod as he steps back towards you.
”Impatient, are we?” Klaue taunts, the mattress dipping as he kneels and slides an arm under the arch of your waist to move you, always so damn smug as if it wasn't his intent all along to make you this way,
“Back” he says, and you try to help but barely have a chance to react before he’s lifting you, hauling you up the bed and you can only hold on to his shoulders and brace yourself until he has you positioned where he wants before pushing himself back up to kneel between your thighs, his hands quickly coaxing your legs back open. 
“Beautiful,” he sighs, and when you glance up at his face you’re surprised to find him looking directly into your eyes, and now you feel self-conscious. A rosy flush blooms across your chest and you’re burning so hot you almost can’t stand it, you need to get out from under his gaze so you reach for his hands where they rest on your knees, running over his fingers and up his forearms. 
“I need you. Need you inside me.” You moan and he inhales a sharp hiss through his teeth when your hand wraps around his cock, the tip dark and shining, and you can’t help a hum of appreciation as you grip him, hot and velvety under your fingers. 
"Jesus, you’re so fucking hard. Liked eating my pussy that much, did you?" You sigh, sliding your thumb along the sensitive underside of the head. 
"Stop." Klaue’s voice is dangerously quiet and you barely hear him, so distracted by the way he's thrusting slightly into your hand.
"Stop." He growls louder through clenched teeth and releases your legs from his grip. "Or you'll get nothing."
Your stomach drops as you quickly pull your hand away, yet even while hoping that you look appropriately chastised, you can’t help when your eyes are drawn to where his cock is resting on your abdomen. While you're certainly becoming quite familiar with him you only now seem to realize just how big he actually is as you look at the length of him lying thick and heavy against you, framed by the vee of your thighs.
"Oh." You release a shaky breath and he smiles at your expression of realization, licking your lips as you consider the reality of fitting him inside of you.
He doesn't touch you or himself for the moment, simply watches you with an appraising stare as you start to writhe nervously, and it’s not long before you let out a frustrated whine and adjust your hips so that you can rub your sex along his rigid length. But the friction isn’t nearly enough when his cock is so fucking close to where you want it, so you try to pull back enough that you can coax him towards to your entrance.
“God, please," you beg. "You’re going to drive me insane. I need you to fuck me. Ok? Don’t you want to feel how wet you made me? How tight I am for you?” You look up at him, desperation in your eyes.
Klaue’s eyes darken and he doesn’t have to say it this time, the command is clear from his expression and the way his hands move back to your legs, fingers digging into your flesh, and you close your eyes and work to still yourself until the only movement is the rise and fall of your chest.
“You’re learning,” he says with a pleased look. “Good girl.” Rewarding you by pushing your knees further back toward your shoulders he grips his cock and drags the tip through your folds, slicking himself up before sliding down until the thick head finds your soaked entrance. 
Realizing that you can feel him shaking, you glance up to see him watching you, the crease between his brows deep with concentration as he waits, and only when you meet his eyes does he start to press forward. 
Your eyelids flutter and a sigh of relief slips from your throat as he finally starts to stretch you open with a shallow thrust, pushing in just a couple of inches before pulling back out. Then another slow rock of his hips and he slides a little deeper now, his controlled movements making you acutely aware of every shift, every ridge of him as his cock drags against your inner walls. 
Klaue may be taking his time and letting you adjust to him but his features are tight with focus, sweat beading on his brow, and you can feel him working to hold himself back. His breath hitches as he presses forward against, watching where he’s disappearing inside of you until he’s maybe halfway sheathed. 
Just this stretch is already more than you expected, and even though it feels so fucking good and you just want to open up and take all of him you can’t help the tension that coils within you, and he must notice because you hear the rough gravel of his voice drifting up through the delicious ache of it all.
“Relax,” he hushes and leans over you, moving until his mouth is hovering above yours, flicking his tongue against your lips to coax them open and when they part as you tip your head up to meet him he captures your mouth, immediately licking deeper as you respond eagerly. Tasting yourself on his tongue as he deepens the kiss you can feel yourself softening, opening for him, and when you roll your hips again he slides a little deeper, your moan deepening in kind as you stretch to accommodate his girth. 
You let your hands slide across his shoulders, running up around the back of his neck and over the prickle of his shorn hair and he grunts against your mouth as you take him another inch. Pulling away from the kiss he drags his lips to you neck, raising goosebumps where his tongue laves across your skin, and when you feel his teeth slide along the curve of your shoulder your entire body arches all at once and you’re shuddering and rutting until he’s completely sheathed, the rough hair at the base of him pressed flush against the inside of your thighs.
"That's it. Knew you could do it." Then he’s pulling all the way back out of you and you’re whining at the loss even as your chest swells from his praise.
"Look at me.” His low command brings your focus back to him as he lines himself up again, chest heaving as he presses just inside of you, that intoxicating, molten look returning to his eyes. "You tell me if it's too much. Understand?"
You weren't quite expecting that, and it takes a moment to wrap your head around the shift.
"Because I'm done being gentle," he grits out and your skin prickles with anticipation as you moan and rock your hips, trying to take him further inside of you, but he holds you in place, waiting for you to acknowledge him.
"I understand." You finally say with a nod, and hunger singes the edges of his smile at your words.
A strangled cry wrenches from your throat as he buries himself in you with a merciless thrust, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the bittersweet pleasure of the sudden breach, and the relief of finally having him coupled with the blissful sound of his long groan as he enters you has the feeling of gold light sliding through your veins. Giving you no further chance to adjust he thrusts again, and again, grunting every time he bottoms out and you try and fail to stifle your cries as he hits the deepest part of you, fucking you with hard, steady strokes. 
With another thrust he suddenly stills, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight heat, using his weight to press himself as deep into you as he can and leaving you desperately trying to writhe your hips beneath him even though it’s pointless, because he now has you effectively pinned to the bed with his cock.
“Jesus, you feel-” he drops his head and pants against your neck, his words dripping against your skin like burnt honey. “You’re so fucking tight. Perfect cunt.” 
"What are you doing?" You moan, swallowing a sob. The sensation of him buried in you like this is beyond intense, it’s all you can feel, every shred of your awareness tied to where all of him is stretching and filling you and you're not sure if you can take it, yet you still need more. 
“What's the matter, darling?" Bracing on his elbows Klaue looks down into your face, seeming to enjoy your sweet agony beneath him. "I'm giving you what you wanted. Been begging for my cock all night, said you wanted me to make you take every inch of it. So you’re fucking taking it now, aren’t you?” His only movement is a roll of his hips to push himself deeper.
You can barely form a coherent thought, pleading curses falling from your lips as you’re caught in a whirlpool of bare, mewling need. 
"You've been so good for me.” He rolls his hips again. “But you've also been mouthy.” He chides and with a frustrated noise you hook your legs around his waist, pressing your heels into the small of his back to try to find some purchase to rock beneath him. “But you knew you weren’t going to get away with that, didn’t you?” 
The taunt of his knowing words suddenly brings you back, a reckless tingle sharpening your thoughts, and even though you’re fairly certain that you’re going to lose your mind from the overwhelming and relentless stretch of him, you force yourself to take deep breaths until your head starts to clear and your body relaxes, making it seem as though you’re giving in to him. 
Then, eyes heavy with lust you lean your head up, your voice low and needy when you whimper against his ear. 
"But I thought you said you were going to fuck me, daddy." 
Klaue’s smile is wild and a spike of adrenaline courses through you when he pushes himself back up, and abandoning whatever plans he had to continue teasing you he hooks your knees in the crooks of his elbows, forcing your legs back and open as he leans over you, bracing his hands on either side of your body and thrusting into you with a punishing snap of his hips. Pinned beneath the weight of him you can only cry out at how deep his cock feels now as he starts driving into you hard and fast.
“You mean, like this?" he growls above you, your only reply a stuttered “yes yes yes” as he finally fucks you, as he finally lets go, sweat dampening his curls and slicking your thighs, making the slap of his hips against yours wet and loud as he fucks into you, barely giving you a chance to breathe. 
"Poor thing, did you think I wasn't going to fuck this needy little cunt of yours like you deserve?" 
You can’t think of anything beyond how good you feel, the solid mass of him pressing down, shaping you beneath him so that you fit together the way he seemed to know that you would, replacing the ache of need with the ache of being split open and impossibly full.
“Christ, you feel so- is this where you want me? Tell me where.” Klaue stammers, a desperate edge to his words and you understand what he’s asking.
“Come inside me, please.” You beg, desperate to feel him.
“Come on my cock then, darling, and I'll give it to you,” he grits through clenched teeth, fucking into you deeper, pulling out as little as possible now and every roll of his hips creates an agonizing friction against your clit. The delicious mix of agony and pleasure with every thrust builds up and up and up until with a clenching cry your orgasm surges through you and you surrender to the feeling of everything all at once: heat and cold, tension and liquid, pitch dark and blinding light, and even through the thick haze of it you have a clear awareness that he’s ruined you completely, because how could you possibly want anything else after this?
Klaue is lost in you now as your cunt grips his cock, groaning praises as he fucks you through it until you feel his rhythm become frantic, his features twisting in ecstasy and then with a final rough thrust he stills, shaking against you until with guttural moan you feel his cock throb as he spills himself inside you. Releasing one of your legs he grips your shoulder and pulls you against him, keeping himself buried as deep as possible as he shudders, hips jerking against yours and you moan in bliss as you feel the warmth of his spend coating your walls, filling every last inch of you completely.
Eventually he releases your other leg and falls against you, though you keep your legs wrapped around his waist as you run your hands across his shoulders and catch your breath.
“Fucking made for me, darling,” he pants into your neck. “Could fuck you all night. My god."
You can only make a sound that’s a cross between a protest and a laugh at his admission.
"Hmm, maybe not this time." His low chuckle vibrating through you. "But you are going to give me one more."
You laugh again, not thinking that he could be serious as he pushes himself back up to kneeling, but when you look up at him you catch the rough glint in his eyes as he watches you expectantly.
“Wait, you’re not..I already- ”
"And I," he cuts you off with a quick thrust, "already told you that you're going to come as many times as I want.” 
You shake your head, incredulous even as you become distinctly aware that he’s still hard inside you.
"Jesus, I- Ulysses, I really don't think I can." 
"It also seems like you still have a few too many thoughts in that head of yours, don’t you?" He taunts while his hands slide across your hips and up the curve of your waist.
"Yes," you whisper, dropping your head as you recognize your own words spoken back to you.
"I want that to stop." He thrusts again, slowly, and the squelching slide back into you has you groaning as he watches the mess of his cum mixed with your release leaking out from where you're joined, dripping down to stain the fabric beneath you. 
Gathering some of the mixture from where his cock still stretches you open Klaue drags his thumb back up to your clit, using the sticky slick of both of you to slide just around the over-sensitive bud and you whimper as eddies of heat start to swirl again, unable to help the rock of your hips as he teases your aching flesh.
“There she is,” he hums as your muscles flutter around him, but it’s still so much and you can't quite let yourself submit to it. Squeezing your eyes shut you try to just focus on your breath as he continues to gently nudge your clit with a slippery thumb.
"Are you fighting it?" he asks, a fierce mirth in his voice. "That isn't going to work."
You reach your hands up to grip the slats of the headboard, and though you’re not sure whether it’s to brace yourself or to pull away Klaue seems to take it as the latter because he's gripping your hips and pulling you firmly against him, sliding his cock back into you in an agonizing grind, more of his cum leaking out of you as he presses deep.
“Please, let me feel your perfect, greedy cunt squeeze my cock one more time." 
The unexpected neediness in Klaue's voice sends another thrill of heat through your core.
“I want to. For you.” You sigh, licking your lips when you feel him twitch inside of you at your words.
“Then just breathe, darling.” The low grit of Klaue's voice soothes you as he slides his hands up your thighs and stomach to cup your breasts, brushing over your nipples before rolling them gently between a thumb and forefinger and making a satisfied grunt when you clench around him. 
Reaching further up he tugs at your arms, coaxing your hands away from the headboard and positioning them behind your knees so that you can hold yourself open for him.
“Just like that.” His words are deep and pleased as he admires you, a hand moving to your cheek, and you can’t help pressing into his palm. 
When his thumb brushes against the corner of your mouth you unconsciously turn your head to flick your tongue out and then he’s quickly pushing past your lips, letting you swirl your tongue around the digit for a few moments before pulling it out and sliding his first two fingers in to replace it, a heated grin curling his lips as he feels you relax into his touch.
“Just need everything, don’t you?” His eyes are a tempest blue as he looks down at you.
You can only hum around his fingers in reply, keeping your eyes on his as you take them deeper into your mouth, sucking and sliding your lips around them, and then he's pressing against your tongue, fingertips reaching the back of your throat so that you gag slightly, the ripple running from your neck down your spine to where you arch and roll your hips.
He continues this until your eyelids get heavy, your mind slipping away as he fucks his fingers into your mouth, his other hand returning to your center where he rests his thumb just against your clit, allowing you to take what you need, the rock of your hips becoming more insistent as you feel the heat of the orgasm he wants from you starting to rise.
Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he instead grips your thigh below where where your own fingernails are digging crescents into your skin as the pleasure swells up, every muscle taut, your cunt tightening around his girth until you’re almost pushing him out but he ruts forward to keep himself seated deep inside of you.
“There you go, I can feel it.” Klaue's face is a mask of concentrated lust coloured by an unnamed emotion that slides beneath his features. “So, do I know what you need, then, darling?”
You can only nod your head and keen as you hang over the edge.
“Say it.”
“You know what I need Ulysses, ohh don’t stop- ”
Your climax is sharp and bright as you tip over the edge with a choked cry, and you dimly hear him groaning your name as you come undone around his cock one more time. Light burns behind your eyelids as his thumb rubs firm circles on your clit, teasing out every little jerk of your hips, every last clenching wave of pleasure you’ll give him. Finally, it’s too much and you reach down to grab at his hand in protest and mercifully he lets you pull his fingers away from your overwrought sex as you finally collapse.
“Ok,” Klaue purrs. “Ok.” Slowly, he eases his cock out of you and you both moan at the loss, but when he doesn’t move any further you blearily glance up to see that his eyes are fixed on your ruined hole with a look of pained reverence, and when you feel the warmth of it you realize that he’s watching his cum dripping out and pooling beneath you with the rest of the mess you made.
With a rough sigh he pulls his attention back to you, and sliding his hands up your thighs he helps ease your legs back down as the ache in your hips from being in this position for so long starts to set in. You’re limp and unfocused and starting to shiver from the sudden lack of him as you come down, so he shifts you over and pulls the clean side of the blanket over you, covering you as much as possible.
You’re not sure how long he stays there but eventually you feel him get up and walk to the washroom. Lying with your eyes closed you listen to the quiet sounds of water running as he cleans up. 
Returning to sit on the edge of the bed a hand touches your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him.
“You should drink something,” he says softly. 
You realize that he’s holding out a glass of water and you’re so grateful as you become instantly aware of how incredibly parched you are, but when you open your mouth to thank him you instead let out a choked laugh which quickly dissolves into surprised tears.
Laughing again as tears spill and streak down into your hair you try to turn away and cover your face, but he sets the glass down on the side table and you feel his fingers firmly gripping your chin. 
“Look at me.” Klaue’s voice is calm but insistent. “You did so well, darling. You don’t need to hide.” When your eyes meet the seriousness of his the tension goes out of you, and you finally feel yourself starting to come back into your body.
“I’m ok.” You sniffle and swallow your tears. “Really.” After watching you intently for several moments he eventually seems satisfied and hands the glass of water back to you. 
“Drink. Then shower.”
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Sitting on the edge of the bed in underwear and a t-shirt, wet hair tucked up in a towel, you watch as Klaue finishes getting dressed.
“Can I ask you something?” You say softly.
“Of course,” he replies, his gaze inquisitive as he tucks in his shirt.
You’re not even clear on exactly what you want to say and there are about a hundred thoughts fighting to get to the tip of your tongue. 
“How did you..know.” You try to bite back a smile, amused that you somehow feel shy even after what had just transpired between you. “I mean, I feel like I barely knew.”
He makes his way over to where you’re sitting.
“I didn’t, really. Not at first." He starts, sounding thoughtful. “But I wasn’t lying before, I did notice you right away in Utrecht. A beautiful woman alone? That’ll always draw the eye.” He says, grinning at your blush. “But then you walked right up to me and, well, I can’t say that’s something that happens very often. So you definitely had my attention.”
You look up at him standing over you, and even now you find yourself squeezing your thighs together at the sight.
“Then I looked into your background, and it turns out you're a bit of a risk taker, don’t like to settle in one place for long. Always looking for something. You intrigued me.” His eyes pass over your bare legs as he speaks.
“But then, yesterday,” Klaue pauses (and, god, was it only yesterday?), his voice dropping to that honeyed whisper again. 
“The way you reacted when I touched you. The way you pushed yourself back against me, rubbing right against my cock.” You flush and start to look down, but he hooks a finger under your chin so you meet his eyes. “I knew I could get you to let go. I just needed you to admit it.” 
“I might have sooner but I just..you throw me off balance,” you admit. "I don't usually need other people. I've always been fine on my own, I prefer it, honestly. But every time I would see you it felt like I couldn't look away. I tried not to think about you, and I did actually manage for a while. But then that guy attacked me.”
Klaue’s eyes go dark at the reminder. 
“The way touched me, and told me I had to rest.” You shiver at the memory of his firm command. “Then I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. Or your hands, for that matter. And I..”
He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“That night was the first time I thought about you, when I touched myself.” You sigh, letting your legs drift open slightly. 
Klaue's breath quickens and he leans down to curl his fingers around your elbow, pulling you to standing. 
“When you say things like that to me, darling," he grits out, both hands gripping your hips, and you brace yours against his chest. "You said you didn’t know yourself, but you could have fooled me."
“I’m- I’ve never.. Listen, I’ve always liked it a little rough, I suppose. But any time I tried to ask for..more, guys would either shut down, or just not get it,” you shrug. “So I usually just let it go. It wasn’t worth the energy.”
“I’ll never understand.” Klaue shakes his head in exasperation, his hands sliding up under your t-shirt to find bare skin. “They’re all fools. The most arousing thing a woman can be is turned on. Every time I make you come, turning you into more and more of a needy mess, it just makes me want to do it again. And again. I want to find out what makes you feel good. I want to make you need me so badly it hurts, and then I want to be the one to give you relief.”
You can’t help the soft moan that comes from your parted lips at his words, but while you try to work out a more coherent reply his phone buzzes, and with a sigh he pulls it out to read the message before frowning and slipping it back into his pocket.
“I need to go,” he says, begrudgingly. “I’m leaving in the morning for about two weeks.”
Your stomach drops with disappointment, but it’s tempered by the realization that he’s telling you how long he’ll be gone.
“So, you want to see me again?” You ask, once again feeling silly at how bashful he makes you.
"I want to see all of you again,” he growls and pulls you against him, his hands reaching down to roughly cup your ass and angling his mouth to hover above yours.
“Ok.” you breathe, relief and anticipation swirling through you. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Because I haven’t forgotten that you said I could fuck your mouth, darling.” he murmurs against your lips and you press your body flush against his. 
“Hmm, I did, didn’t I?” you start to reply, but then his lips are on yours, cutting you off with a swipe of his tongue and you quickly deepen the kiss in turn, but before long you’re interrupted again by the buzz of his phone and with a sigh he finally pulls away from you.
“One more question” you say as he moves toward the door. “You said something. Before.” You shiver as you think about the words he whispered in your ear the first time he made you come. “Klein” means small, I think. But “mot“?  
“Smart girl,” he says, crooking a smile, and then after a pause: “Little moth." 
It might be the first time he doesn’t meet your eyes, and you tilt your head inquisitively while pushing down the tendril of affection that’s blooming in your chest.
“I noticed that you sometimes wander around at night,” he offers, shrugging as if it were a simple explanation.
“How- ? You’re not even here most of the time!” He grins at your exasperation
“I told you that I-”
“Yes!” You say, bemused, holding up your hands. “Yes, you know everything that goes on in this place. You know ‘every inch of it.’” You smirk, making quotes with your fingers, parroting his own words back to him, now.
“Not quite yet I don’t.” His eyes slide pointedly down your body. “But I will.” Your lips fall open wordlessly as he turns and opens the door. “Think about me while I’m gone, darling.”
Then you’re staring at a closed door.
Goddammit.
It’s going to be a long two weeks.
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A/N #2: Another quick note, that although this part is finished and can function as a stand alone story, as I mentioned in my WIP post, Klaue and Reader will continue to get up to shenanigans! I do have other things I also want to work on so I don't really have a timeline, but updates will be made as things move along.
Thank you so much for reading, I love you all!
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the-eyes-of-andyserkis · 10 months
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So i accidentally a thing.
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A new Klaue x Reader one-shot is coming! It's separate from BHTR universe, and I had wanted to work on something else after taking take a bit of a break after chapter five, but I wasn't quite sure what. However when a thot was mentioned in a certain Discord server, my brain just latched onto it. 😏
I had thought that I would post it last week, but did it manage to get away from me? Yes. Did I also somehow turn it into a bit of a smutty hurt/comfort thing? Apparently, also yes.
So, I'm hoping for this week/weekend, but regardless, I hope it'll be a fun little amuse bouche!
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You feel a presence enter your personal space at the same time that you see the shadow fall over you through closed eyelids, the voice that speaks is low and calm, sliding its way into your consciousness between panicked breaths.
“Take a deep breath, love.”
Forcing your eyes open, you see the tattooed stranger from earlier standing in front of you. 
“I don’t know what’s- I’ve never been like this before on a flight,” you feel compelled to explain. “I just can’t catch my-” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down so you don't disturb the sleeping passengers.
He glances over his shoulder briefly and then back at you, pausing for a moment as he seems to consider something, and then his arm is around your waist and he’s quickly guiding you into an unoccupied washroom, following closely and locking the door behind you.
Taking your hands in his, he moves them so that your palms are pressed flat against his chest, and when he speaks, his words are steady but firm.
“Now, take a deep breath for me."
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Chapter 1 - "Storm"
Masterlist
Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 2.8K Chapters: 1/5 Rating: Explicit (soon!)
Summary: You're no stranger to taking risks, in fact you prefer the unknown, however when you happen to cross paths with a certain black market arms dealer you find it uncharacteristically difficult to find your balance. (aka "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.")
Warnings: Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries (will be updated as I go along)
A/N: Well, here we go! My first foray into fanfiction writing in something like 18 years? What can I say, Andy Serkis has an inspirational way about him, it seems.
In my mind this is set somewhere between "Avengers" and "Age of Ultron". I wanted to give myself somewhere to go, since I do kind of have plans beyond this! I'm not sure yet if I'll end up extending this work, or start a new one (in a same universe/established relationship kind of deal), but we'll see!
Also I apologize for any weird tense shifting, this started out as something else then evolved to being a reader-insert fic (which kind of unlocked it for me, actually).
Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.
AO3 Link
Blood-shot, your eyes drop And the skin's all wearing thin There's no one here to tell you ‘Bout the depth of the water Or the trouble that you're in
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You're standing on the edge of a precipice.
You can’t see what’s below but you know that it’s a sheer drop with an inhospitable field of boulders lining the river at the bottom. Your heart is pounding hard but steady under your rib cage and if you look down at yourself you can see the tremor of each beat as it ripples through your bones and muscles. In contrast your head feels bright and weightless with anticipation.
You nudge your feet forward until the tips of your shoes are hanging over the edge of the platform that you’re standing on. A gust of wind tests your balance and your stomach lurches as you wobble slightly, but you take a steadying breath and brace your core, keeping yourself rigid from shoulders to ankles Taking one final breath all the way to the top of your lungs you allow your body to tip forward and the moment that gravity finally takes hold of you a helpless, giddy cry releases from your chest as you plummet towards the roaring river below.
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No one you’ve ever met would choose to describe you as particularly risk averse, finding yourself more often drawn towards the source of the adrenaline than repelled by it.
You’ve mountain climbed in Yosemite, bungee jumped in New Zealand, and once rode the Ride of Steel "hypercoaster" twenty times in a row on a bet. Your date had been startled by how quickly you took him up on it and insisted that he was joking, the "joke" of course being that you wouldn't be able to handle it. You happily got in the front car and proceeded to laugh gleefully every single time you crested that first 68° degree drop that seemed to point directly at the ground. 
Unfortunately your date evidently got bored and decided to peace out halfway through what he had started. After reading his text you laughed even harder than when you were on the coaster, promptly blocked him, and went to find yourself a funnel cake. The next day all of your joints ached and you felt curiously hungover, but you also felt like you had a clear head for the first time in weeks.
You're not naive, though, you understand that taking risks can get you hurt. You received a permanent reminder of this fact when you ended a paragliding trip to the Finger Lakes in New York State with a compound fracture of your humerus. The ride had been almost perfect but as you were coming in to land a rogue gust of wind lifted and then pushed you awkwardly sideways. The sudden shift in momentum and resulting collapse of one side of your glider caused you to slam left arm-first into the ground which, you noted with a detached annoyance, was just as hard as when you had left it.
Fighting off shock you walked a mile to the nearest house, and after the startled couple had calmed down from the bloody sight of you standing on their porch they brought you inside and called an ambulance. They gently stabilized your arm with a scarf while making sure to keep your feet elevated, and didn’t stop asking you questions to keep you talking until help arrived.
You still send Homer and Daisy postcards at least once a year.
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Two surgeries, two metal plates, eleven screws and twelve weeks later your cast was off and your cabin fever had you on a plane to Munich because it was October, and why not?.
You’ve traveled solo for most of your adult life. It’s just easier: you don’t have to explain yourself, or wait around for other people to make up their minds regarding plans (or try to change them completely). If you’re able to coordinate with someone you will, but rarely go out of your way to do so.
You spent a week trekking across the moors of the Scottish Highlands (to this day you will attest that the shitty tavern beer you drank when you returned to civilization was the best thing you’ve ever tasted) and visited Cairo which, even before the Arab Spring, was not the safest place for a solo female traveler - as you were cheerfully reminded by just about every shopkeeper and cab driver you encountered. You were regularly offered some sort of local sweets during these interactions, though, so you learned not to mind it too much.
There’s just something that thrills you about figuring out a new place. About setting yourself as a Minotaur at the center of a labyrinth and then figuring out where you needed to go and how to get there, wandering around corners and finding disused pathways, pressing at the edges of a city to find where the pieces came together.
Then, when things got really weird and aliens invaded Earth in the Battle of New York and Superheroes became a very real thing, you lost your mind with the rest of the world for a little while. But as always seemed to happen life quickly picked up the strange new pieces and moved forward. You incorporated the new information into your reality, listened to people complain about how it was just the next thing to be pummelled into your brains during the 24 hour news cycle (Tony Stark certainly seemed to enjoy this), and continued on living because you just..did.
You find work when and where you need to; travel and adrenaline seeking aren’t free, after all.
You started learning to weld in a high school shop class after taking it as an elective and it turned out that it was actually very relaxing for you, almost meditative. You took to the craft quickly, learning that metallurgy was its own art form that was both challenging and rewarding. You find a rare calm in watching the molten puddle form, smelling the Flux burning, the elements of the Earth being reshaped under your hands, and then the ache of accomplishment in your muscles after a long day.
And, honestly, you’d be hard pressed to deny that it also kind of just tickled that part of your primordial lizard brain that got excited at “Fire! Pretty!”
The cutting, prepping and moving materials around doesn’t bother you either, it helps to keep you strong and sure of yourself. The men and occasionally other women that you work with quickly learn that you have zero issues getting your shit done, and so tend to leave you alone.
Your trade gives you the freedom to move around and do what you want since you can find work pretty easily just about anywhere. Of course there will always be those stubborn bastards who staunchly refuse to hire a woman out of some weak sense of tradition, but these days it’s not as much of a fight to get hired as it was back when you were first starting out. It also helps that now most of the holdouts can be convinced simply by making an incredulous face and asking, “Really? Aliens and Gods are real, but a woman welding is just too bananas for you to handle?”
That usually does the trick. Thanks aliens! You really did a sister a solid on that one.
Your work and your wanderlust mean that you rarely stay in one place for very long. You work hard and enough to support yourself and to save up for whatever port calls you next, but as much as you enjoy traveling and learning the world you’ve never felt particularly connected to one place, or person. Outside of the occasional one night stand any relationships you’ve had have been short lived. Not necessarily because the sex was boring (in fact occasionally it could be pretty great) but eventually they would just get tired of a woman who didn’t want to settle down and wasn’t interested in taking care of them.
You might last a few months in any given place - sometimes it’s as short as a couple of weeks - before you’re pulling up the stakes again in search of a new maze. No matter where you are you know that you'll inevitably start to get antsy, like a cat who was becoming unnerved, back twitching furtively in anticipation of something you can’t quite sense the edges of.
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It’s on a hot night night in July during one of these periods of in between that you find yourself in a small bar in Utrecht, about thirty minutes outside of Amsterdam.
The walls are decorated with green and white striped wallpaper and an entertainingly prolific number of brass fixtures and ornately kitschy framed art, all bordered by wooden wainscoting painted dark brown. There is a massively thick, ancient dark wood bar top and mismatched tables, surfaces all gouged and scratched, water stains seeping through the decades of lacquer that looks to be at least half an inch thick.
It’s been mind-warpingly humid for the past three days, uncharacteristic for somewhere so close to the North Sea, and the entire city feels on edge. Even now in the evening's waning hours the air is thick and syrupy, the promise of a thunderstorm hanging teasingly in the heavy air.
You’ve positioned yourself in a corner that puts you in the path of a fan plugged in next to the bar, soaking in the relieving sweep of air every time its oscillating breeze passes over you. It’s nearing closing time and you’re nursing a glass of genever, your fingers absently play through the condensation on the surface while you debate giving the very tall and sweet looking local who's been glancing your way for the last hour, a shot at convincing you to let him take you back to your hotel.
The front door opens from the street letting in a gust of air that feels surprisingly cool, you perk up a little and hope that it's a herald of the summer storm the city’s been waiting for. You’re about to down the last swallow of your drink when you glance up at the man that just entered, flanked by two enforcer-looking buddies.
Ice rattles as the glass pauses on its way to your lips, your attention immediately drawn to them. Or rather, to him.
Dark haired and broad shouldered he’s the shortest of the three and yet seems to take up the most space. He’s wearing dark green slacks and heavy boots with a tan fatigue shirt, the top two buttons unfastened to reveal part of a large tattoo across his chest and collar bones. When he turns his head you see more tattoos arcing across his neck and skull under short clipped hair before trailing down beneath his shirt collar. 
You set your glass back down, entirely missing the coaster, and unconsciously lick your lips.
It's well past last call but you watch as the dark haired man orders a whiskey anyway. The bartender tiredly starts to let him know that it’s too late, but when he finally looks up and properly takes in the three men in front of him he seems to make a quick mid-flight recalculation. A beleaguered expression shifts to an accommodating if distinctly nervous smile before pulling a bottle off of a high shelf to pour the drink.
You can’t clock if the bartender knows the man or if he simply picked up on the same energy that you had, quickly realizing that this was the kind of person that it was risky to say no to.
The local and his friends had suddenly decided to call it a night, so now it’s only you and a couple of barflies left. You can hear the three men talking but can only make out snippets - something about a “new compound” and then, most interestingly “TIG welders”.
You slowly spin your glass in its little puddle of condensation on the table, the spark of an idea coalescing into half of a plan. You convince yourself that it’s because you're looking for a new direction anyway, that this is just serendipitous timing and you should take advantage of it, that it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the way your eyes keep being drawn to the tattooed man at the bar.
You finish your drink and stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans, then gather your things and start walking towards the door. You pass the bar on your way to the exit but then, making it seem like an afterthought, you briefly pause and then double back to get the man’s attention.
“Hi, sorry to bother you-”
He turns to look at you and your words stop short behind your teeth, your stomach doing a loop the instant that his eyes focus on you.
“Um, sorry,” you stammer, caught off guard, but shake your head clear and push forward. “I don’t know if this is relevant at all but.. I’m looking for work. I’m a welder! I mean. Specifically that kind of work.”
Wow, this is going great, you think and internally roll your eyes at yourself.
He looks at you with a bemused expression, but there’s also a “get to the point” sharpness in his eyes.
”I can do TIG, MIG, stick welding..” you trail off, still waiting for him to say something. “So, uh,” you beg yourself to finish an actual sentence, ‘if you’re looking for people, I’m available.”
When he finally speaks his words are low and measured.
“You were eavesdropping.” It wasn’t a question.
You flush at the admonition and are immediately annoyed that you flush, but quickly recover to defend yourself.
“Well, I wouldn’t say you were making it particularly difficult, what with the whole” - you gesture broadly at the bar around you - “having a conversation in a public place and all.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckles and takes a sip of his whisky. His accented words are clipped, not entirely out of place in the Netherlands, but still not local. South African, maybe? At his laugh you release some of the tension that's knotted itself between your shoulder blades, though it’s replaced by something else when you notice the glisten of liquor on his lower lip.
His hair is curly and up close you can see the salt and pepper threading its ways through. His eyes refocus on you as he puts his glass down and even in the bar light you can see that they shine blue.
“Hmmm,” he seems to consider, rubbing his fingers across his chin. “I might be able to use you”. You try to keep your expression neutral at that because you're flushing again, finding yourself glad for the low light. “But", he continues, "you should know that I don’t work in, let’s say, traditional fields.”. He picks up his drink again and waits for you to react.
Interesting. “What, like, requires an NDA kind of non-traditional?”
He watches your face closely, his attentiveness making you simultaneously want to curl into yourself and stand up straighter. He smiles slowly, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Something like that.” 
“Well, I’m always looking to get new experience, I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty and I work hard.” He glances at your left arm while you speak, and you see his eyes fall on the thick vertical scar between your shoulder and elbow. Most people can’t help but look but then will quickly avert their eyes. This man’s eyes linger, appraising, and he seems to take his time trailing his gaze up along your shoulder, your neck, and finally back to meet your eyes.
You feel warm and - you’re not quite sure the right word - perceived, maybe. Exposed. A voice in the back of your mind is whispering that this man knows how to get what he wants, and you should be very, very careful.
“David”, he says, not breaking eye contact with you as he gets one of the other men's attention. “Give her the contact details for Romania”, he then stops and looks at you inquisitively, prompting, “Miss..?”
You pick up the queue and give him your name, instinctively extending your hand to shake. After a pause he reaches out his own and wraps his fingers around yours.
“Klaue”, he replies.
And now you’re aware of how small your hand feels in his.
Danger, Will Robinson.
And you think that maybe his hand grasps yours a little longer than necessary before releasing you.
Ok, but seriously: DANGER.
Your instincts are now very insistently yelling that you should turn back - find safe quarters, dry land, high ground. Just say thanks but no thanks and figure something else out, you always do, it'll be fine.
Unfortunately your brain ignores these pleas and the adrenaline flooding your system, as has historically been the case, makes you helpless to do anything but continue on towards the beckoning unknown.
You're standing on the edge of a precipice.
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Thank you for reading, and bear with me as I set this up! I should have chapter two up this weekend, and after that it's a bit up in the air but I'm hoping to get a new chapter done every two weeks or so until this one is finished.
Anyway, I'm going to go lie face down on the ground for a bit while I process that I actually did this.
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Bringin' Home the Rain - Chapter 3: "Demons"
Masterlist
Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 5.9K Chapters: 3/5 Rating: Explicit
Chapter Summary: You can't stop thinking about Klaue, and after an encounter where you find out he feels the same all you can think about is how you can get him to touch you again.
Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Age Difference, Masturbation, Smut, PWP, But a bit of Plot if you squint, Dirty Talk, Praise, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving)
A/N: Well, there's a reason I separated the set up and turned this into five chapters! It was taking longer than expected, but then I remembered that it was more than twice as long as the first two and cut myself some slack. The smut is incoming, so thank you for your patience and your feedback so far, it's been lovely to read!
Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.
AO3 Link
You're dancin' with your demons baby You forgot your former lie It was hard swimming once And now you're daily diving in
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You do end up asking Klaue for something.
Most of the space at the compound is in use, but while wandering around one night when you can’t sleep you find a set of doors leading to an unused tech wing: drafting rooms, large metal and wood shops, and most interestingly to you several smaller rooms each with TIG welding machines - something you haven’t been using very much in your current work - as well a welding table, a tungsten grinder, and built in fume extraction hood. Perfect.
TIG welding would give you a chance to practice your finer detail skills. It’s a technique that requires focus and steady hands, but at the same time you can be creative and “draw” with it, anything from an octopus to random patterns that might resemble a Rorschach test image. This was the other side of the coin of metallurgy, the one that allowed you to focus on the creation and the connection rather than worrying about pure functionality and the end result. 
When you tell your shift lead Tom, a short but very broad Irishman, that you want to get in touch with Klaue he looks surprised and then mildly concerned.
“Everything’s fine!” you assure him. “He just said to let him know if there was anything that I needed and, well, there’s something that I need.”
“Ok, sure, I’ll let him know,” he says, relieved but still uncertain, his expression indicating that he might think that you’re crazy for actively looking to draw Klaue’s attention, and you certainly can’t blame him for that.
Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to think of very much other than Klaue in the two weeks since your last encounter. You thought that maybe after a few days of giving in to the persistent thoughts of him that the feelings would temper, but as it turns out they only intensified. Most nights now, and sometimes mornings (and showers), your mind is drawn to him and your hand finds its way between your legs, though you keep his name clenched firmly behind your teeth.
The skull tattoo visible beneath an unbuttoned collar, muscle and tendon flexing beneath the ink as strong arms pick you up and press you against the wall.
You try to reason with yourself: You know that he’s not the kind of man you should be thinking this way about to begin with, not to mention that he barely touched you, and you have no idea if he even thinks about you at all, so why are you torturing yourself?
It’s not like you’ve never been interested in sex before, you’ve had plenty of good, even great sex. However you’d admit that your experiences tended to be mediocre more often than not, and generally speaking it wasn’t something that was typically front of mind for you. If you weren’t in a relationship sometimes weeks could go by and you’d find yourself barely thinking about it, and when it did happen it felt like it was more about scratching an itch than satisfying any particular need.
You’ve never ached for it before. Not like this.
Fingers curled in your hair, tongue moving relentlessly against yours and you’re unable to hold back the sounds he's drawing from you.
Two days after your request you’re surprised when you sleepily check your morning messages and see one from Klaue. 
You quickly sit up in bed and start typing a reply explaining what you found and what you want to do, and he responds back that that was fine and you could use the tools, but you would have to buy any extra materials and maintain the equipment yourself. Not a problem, you assure him, typing the last message with one hand and wondering how he would react if you sent him a photo so could see what your other hand was doing right now.
Kneeling between your thighs, hovering there for agonizing seconds, waiting for you to beg him.
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You clear out several garbage bags worth of debris and old materials from the room, wipe down all the surfaces, and test everything to make sure it actually turns on. Finally you drag a ragged but solid (and very heavy) two seater couch that you found in the metal shop down the hall to complete the space.
The following week all of your new supplies have arrived and you’re spending some time after your shift taking inventory. Your gear is laid out, tungsten welding rods along with nickel, magnesium, and copper filler rods are all sorted, and the base material - your stainless steel canvas - has been cleaned and polished and is ready for you to finally get started during your free day tomorrow. 
You’re trying to decide what kind of design you want to start with when the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with awareness and when you whip your head around you see Klaue leaning against the doorway and watching you with a look that makes your breath catch. 
“Oh, Klaue. Hi, uh, I didn’t know you were back." 
He pushes his shoulder off of the doorframe and saunters into the room. 
“Got back this morning, just here for a couple of days. I wanted to see what all this was about,” he says, gesturing to the table as he comes to stand beside you.
“Ok, sure,” you say, relieved to have something to talk about and to keep your focus off of him. “Well, like I said before I want to work on my detail skills with the TIG welder so that I don’t get too rusty. Plus it’ll give me something to do inside now that it’s getting colder, and I always find it benefits my work all around.”
Klaue looks at the gear and papers that are spread across the table. “And how are you planning to do that?” 
You’re surprised that he actually seems...interested? And it’s been so long since you talked to someone about the craft that you eagerly start explaining.
“Ok, so TIG welding,” you look at him but then immediately look away when you’re see how blue his eyes are, even under the harsh fluorescent lights. “It makes a finer weld seam, and I can use that to create these intricate designs.” 
“And the different alloys make different colors?” He indicates the rows of filler rods you have lined up on the table. 
“Yes, exactly. Also some are shiny and some have more of a matte finish. Before you got here I was just debating if I wanted to start with a specific design or go with something more abstract and just kinda wing it,” you shrug. “That would probably be better since it’s going to be a mess to start with anyway, at least until I get the rhythm of it again.”
Klaue moves behind you, reaching around your body for the stack of designs and rifling through them. He stays close to you though, close enough that in the cool air of the room you can feel the warmth of him and your body is reacting swiftly, heat building with a throb between your thighs and you have to concentrate to keep the tremor out of your breath. 
He picks out a swirling design that emulates the plumes of waves crashing together. Or maybe flames.
“Like this?” Klaue’s voice is rough and low and it goes straight to your center. You're so keyed up that the sound of it combined with his proximity causes something in your brain to short circuit, and it’s involuntary when the muscles of your cunt clench and then your back is arching with a reflexive roll of your hips. 
It’s then that you find out how close he actually is when your ass makes contact with the front of his pants. You mindlessly revel in the sensation for a split second before realizing what you’ve done, and then you gasp and pull away in shock.
“Oh god, I’m sorry- '' you start to fumble out an apology but suddenly Klaue’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back against him, and you can feel it when he groans. Pushing you forward he traps you between the table and his body and when you feel the stiffening length of him pressing into your ass it’s your turn to moan as you lean back into him, unable to stop your hips from rolling again in response.
Your back is flush with Klaue’s broad chest and he presses his face into your neck, nosing into your hair. Hot puffs of breath torture your skin while his hands keep a bruising grip on you, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.
“You’re going to drive me fucking insane.” he growls.
“I am??” you gasp. “You’re the one- !” You try to turn around to face him but he pushes you roughly back against the table with a rattle of metal and holds you in place, your own hands flying up to brace yourself against the weight of him.
“Yes”, he hisses against your ear. “Since the night you walked right up to me in that bar. You know I saw you as soon as I walked in? All alone,” he tsked. “Saw you staring at that other table, as if any of those men - those boys,” he spits out the word with disdain, “could give you what you need.” 
His hands leave your hips to brush up your sides, gathering up the hem of your shirt so that his fingers can find your skin beneath it. The metal of his rings is cool but his fingers seem to scald you and you’re sure they must be leaving behind blackened streaks of ash in their wake; he’s barely touched you and you’re burning.
“Oh?” you say, your voice coy even as you’re becoming breathless, panting at his words. “And you think you know what I need?” And, god, it's impossible to imagine at this moment that there's anyone in the world who is less capable of backing down than you.
Klaue growls again and the vibration drives your senses to the edge of reason. He’s rutting slowly and shamelessly against you, the now very hard curve of his erection digging into the swell of your ass. He still has you pinned which is preventing you from finding some relief, some friction of your own, and all you can do is squeeze your thighs together to try to ease some of the desperate ache that’s building deep in your belly.
“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling- “
Before he can say anything else you hear voices coming from down the hallway. Klaue suddenly pulls away from you and you find that you’re almost frantic at the loss while still trying to process that “darling”.
“Boss?” says David, standing in the doorway and looking between the two of you. He must be able to see how flustered you are, flushed and wide eyed, but mercifully he makes no outward indication that he notices. “The Minister is almost ready. Line three in your office.”
You finally dare to look at Klaue, dark eyed and disheveled and hanging onto his control by a thread. You desperately want him to stay, want to grab onto him for dear life and beg him to fuck you until you can’t breathe.
But he doesn’t and you don’t and he finally turns away without saying anything else and follows David out of the room.
You keep taking deep breaths until you start to calm down, the vibration in your body eventually dispersing to a faint prickle in your extremities. As you breathe you circle back around to something he had said, and at first you're furious because how dare he when he was the one driving you insane. But those feelings are quickly forgotten when your mind finally catches up to what the fuck just happened, followed swiftly by the realization that yes, Klaue has in fact been thinking about you.
If you hadn’t been interrupted how far would it have gone? Would he have bent you over, pushed your pants down around your thighs and bruised your hips against the table as he fucked your from behind? He had been so close, thin layers of fabric the only barrier separating you from a shift of his hips and the relief of his cock sinking into you.
That night is the first time his name slips off your tongue on a shaky moan when you come. It’s also the first time that it leaves you wanting, your own touch not enough now that you know the feeling of his hands on your skin, now that you know the way his cock feels grinding against you, thick and so fucking hard
You’ve tipped over the edge, you had a while ago in fact, and like waking from a half dream with a start you finally accept how long you’ve been falling. All you can think of is Ulysses Klaue and you’re no longer interested in pretending that you don’t, you just know that you really need to find a way to get him to touch you again.
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You don’t see Klaue at all the next morning and after lunch you’re back in your workroom and finally ready to get started on the first design, hoping that it will double as a distraction. All of your gear is prepped and you’re checking the pressure on the argon tank when you see a familiar shape in your peripheral. Your heart rate spikes and you immediately straighten up in anticipation before realizing with a sting of disappointment that he’s not alone, there are two other men waiting outside in the hall.
Preoccupied by something on his phone Klaue doesn’t look at you when he speaks.
“I need you to make a run to Bucharest."
You pause in confusion because that was not what you were expecting him to say at all, and it takes you a moment to parse his words.
“It’s a small exchange. My usual people are already occupied with other jobs and this is time sensitive."
You finally clue in to what he’s talking about: this is one of those non-skill related things you were told might be expected of you when you started, and evidently your number has finally come up.
Now, you’ve always convinced yourself that you don’t actually have a death wish, that you just enjoy a good adrenaline rush is all, however you start to seriously question this after what you say next.
“Uh, no.” you reply simply. 
Maybe it's the frustration spilling over from yesterday, or the fact that he’s seemingly so unbothered as if he hadn’t had his cock pressed against you in this exact space less than twenty-four hours ago. Either way you’re so irritated by this interruption that your sense of self-preservation has evidently decided to zip off to another reality. 
"This is my time,” you continue. “I earned it, and I’m not particularly interested in being a ‘gopher’ right now.” 
Well, he’s definitely looking at you now, but other than his eyes searing into yours you receive no other reaction from him, and apparently deciding to ignore your refusal Klaue continues on.
“It should be a four hour round trip, and if you leave now you’ll be back before sundown.” The tone of his voice might sound even but his posture is tense and coiled, and even though you know that you should really take the chance he’s offering you, you just can’t make yourself do it.
“Listen, I work my ass off, I pull my weight around here and then some. I finally have everything ready to go here and I just want to relax for five fucking minutes.” 
A muscle in Klaue’s jaw twitches and he levels his gaze at you, dark salt and pepper curls falling across his forehead. His next words are quiet but no one could miss the simmering threat in them.
“You knew what you signed up for with this job,” his voice is so low that you nearly have to strain to hear him. “Everyone’s all the way in on this and sometimes that means doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. No questions asked.” 
“But-”
He holds up a hand to silence you, his eyes dark and hinting at the danger that awaits if you continue pushing.
You’re only a few inches different in height but as Klaue squares his shoulders and steps toward you his anger fills all corners of the room, making it feel as though he’s towering over you. As he crosses the boundary into your personal space you force yourself to hold your ground and your nose fills with the scent of sweat and oil and something earthy, like juniper. 
“So even if you weren’t the best person available right now,” Klaue tilts his head down until he’s just inches away from your face. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.”
Your eyelids flutter and you barely manage to suppress a moan as your sex throbs at his words. Staring up at him you’re overwhelmed by the thought that if you rose up on your toes you could easily close the gap between your mouths, however a single sane thought manages to cut through the haze of lust to remind you that he’s waiting for a response. While it doesn’t make you any less pissed off you know that he’s right.
“Fine,” you say curtly. “Whatever you need.”
He hesitates briefly, eyes flicking quickly down to your mouth.
“Good,” he finally says, stepping away. “You’ll need to leave immediately, I’ll send you the location and instructions.”
“Great.” you reply, a false sweetness in your voice.
Almost out the door he stops and turns back to look at you one more time.
“You should be careful, darling.” Klaue says, a dangerous smile playing across his face. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble.” And then once again he’s gone.
“Goddamnit”, you mutter and let out a shaky breath, then gather your things and run back to your quarters to change.
* * * * * * * * * *
You actually enjoy the drive, as much as you hate to admit it. It’s late September and the leaves are already well painted with their fall colours at the higher elevations, but it’s still comfortable enough that you’re able to keep the window down most of the way there, although even the roar of the wind isn’t doing much to muffle your thoughts.
Your entire body feels like a live wire, like he’s still touching you, and god it felt so good when he was touching you. It felt so good to come undone under his hands as he coaxed out something familiar, drawing to the surface the part of you that craves the rush, finding it there in the rock of your hips and then giving you permission to stop trying to tamp it down.
You shake your head to clear it as you arrive at the pickup location, grateful for the distraction. There is some brief tension when they don't immediately recognize you as one of the usual operatives, but once the ringleader confirms who you are things kick into gear, and you’re surprised by how smoothly everything goes. You hand them the sealed manila envelope that you were given, after which several unmarked containers are loaded in the back of the truck.
Once the exchange is complete you text Klaue confirmation as he’d instructed - moments later the other men all look at their phones, and evidently seeing what they want they lose interest and wave you along.
As you’re about to drive away your phone pings with another message and you stop to read it:
“Good girl.”
You make a sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a moan and then rest your head between your hands on the steering wheel. Something you’ve learned about Klaue is that there is nothing unintentional about what he says or does, so you know he did that on purpose. Because he guessed what it might do to you. 
“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling.“
And once again he's right because the thought of his voice speaking those words in a rough whisper against your ear has you burning, no longer shocked by how quickly you’re nearly writhing with arousal.
You don’t have time to wallow, though, the sun is setting and you’d rather not be driving through the mountains in the dark, so taking a breath you throw the truck into gear and turn back onto the road, once again driving with the windows down. The air is getting colder now with the sun close to setting yet it does even less now to distract you than before as his words repeat over and over again in your head.
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You really just want to go straight back to your quarters but you still need to clean up the mess you left behind after leaving in a rush. 
Back in your workroom you hastily go to drop your bag and jacket on the couch but instead you get scared out of your wits, gasping comically as you grab your chest when you register the unexpected shape that’s already sitting there.
And of course it’s Klaue, chuckling infuriatingly at your startled reaction.
“What the hell!" you exclaim when you finally catch your breath. "What are you doing here??"
He doesn’t say anything, and after a few moments you gesture a wordless “Well?” 
It’s then you notice that his eyes are focused on your body rather than anything you might be saying. With a flush it occurs to you that other than accidentally getting partially undressed when you were hurt, Klaue hasn’t seen you wearing anything other than your work clothes since you got here, only ever the heavy and shapeless garments meant to protect you when you’re welding. Seeing you now in just the black leggings and fitted Henley you’d changed into before leaving for Bucharest seems to have caught him off guard.
After brazenly dragging his gaze over you for what feels like an eon Klaue finally leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees, eyes focusing directly on you now. 
“You seem to be forgetting that I own this building. And you're only here", with raised eyebrows Klaue looks around the room to make his point, "because I allowed it."
You squeeze your eyes shut and take a breath, all of the earlier frustration is rushing back in and you don’t have the patience to argue with his non-answer.
“You know what?” you say with a resigned sigh. “You're right. That's fine. Just don’t move my stuff around when you're in here. Please.” He leans back against the couch with a smirk and seems to turn his attention back to whatever he was working on when you walked in.
With a sigh you start to clear off of the table and put away your tools, all the while silently seething at him and painfully aware of his existence in your space. So maybe when you stretch your arms over your head to ease the stiffness from the long drive you arch your lower back a little. And maybe you bend over a bit further than strictly necessary to put something away on a low shelf, tilting your hips so that your ass is on display. With satisfaction you hear a sharp intake of breath behind you but when you look back Klaue still seems to be focused on his phone.
His posture seems relaxed with one arm stretched out along the back of the faded cushions and knees casually spread wide. As you watch, though, he shifts his hips and smooths a hand down his thigh, and when your eyes wander to his lap you lick your lips when clearly see the outline of his erection through the fabric. 
At first you wonder what he’s waiting for but then you find that you don’t really care, and a calm settles over you as you realize that you’re done waiting. 
Oh, I drive you crazy? Fucking watch me.
You gather your things and then make as if you’re going to leave, but instead of walking out you close the door and let your bag drop to the floor with a thud. 
The sound brings his attention back to you and confused but intrigued his eyes slide over your body as you stride over to stand in front of him.
“Undo your pants,” you say, looking down at him.
Klaue’s eyes fly up to meet yours, his lips parting slightly. 
“Pardon?” he rumbles, after a beat. His voice is steady but you don't miss another shift of his hips.
You tip your chin toward his belt and say again, “Undo your pants”.
A smile slowly crooks the corner of his mouth but it doesn't do a thing to mask the storm behind his eyes.
“If I have to ask again I’m just going to leave”, you said straightforwardly and begin to turn away.
That seems to break the spell and blindly tossing his phone aside Klaue’s hands move quickly to the buckle of his belt as you step the rest of the way forward to drop to your knees in front of him and he grins when he registers what you’re doing. 
“You been thinkin’ about this for a while, darling?” he asks with a Cheshire glint in his eyes as he draws down the zipper.
You run your hands up his thighs and when you slide a hand over where he’s straining against his underwear you can feel that he’s already almost fully hard, twitching under your fingers. 
“Seems like you have been,” you reply with a squeeze to illustrate your point, his groan cutting off any retort while you teasingly stroke along his length.
You don’t last long doing this though, you need more of him, so you reach your hands up to tug at his waistband. Taking the hint Klaue braces his booted feet on the floor to lift his hips, steadily working both layers down until they’re finally low enough to free his erection which drops heavy between his thighs. He’s deliciously thick, curving smoothly up to where the head is already dark and leaking precum, and you’re unable to suppress a low whine when he wraps a hand around himself to languidly stroke his length.
“Is this what you want, hm?” Klaue’s voice is a rough and he smirks at your hungry expression as you watch his fist sliding over his cock. 
“Not quite,” you reply and lick your lips as your own hand joins his to wrap around the thickness of him, finally feeling him. He draws a hissed breath through his teeth and removes his hand so you can work him properly. 
You use your thumb to spread the bead of precum around the head, drawing your hand down to the brush of hair at the base of him and then back up, your eyes following the trail up his belly to where you can see it meet the edge of tattoo that looks like the tail of a crocodile. You wish briefly that you could get his shirt off of him but your focus is drawn back to his cock and how fucking good it feels in your hand, hot and silky under your fingers.
“Do you think about this when you touch yourself?” Klaue hums and you look up so that you can watch his face as your hand strokes him, the focused expression in his eyes belying the heat behind them. 
“I think about a lot of things,” you say, confirming his implication with a teasing smile. “Like you bending me over that table and fucking me, hard, leaving the door open so anyone could see how much I want it.” You tighten your grip on him as you speak, deeply satisfied when his eyes go dark and hooded and he moans, and you definitely need him to do more of that, so you finally do what you’ve been wanting since you caught that shift of his hips and lean down to close your lips around him. 
It’s your turn to moan as the head of his cock pushes into your mouth and it’s answered by an intoxicating rumble as your lips and tongue slide down and around his now achingly hard length, starting off slow, savoring the tang of him as you explore every ridge and curve. You run the flat of your tongue from the base to the tip of his thick shaft, then swirl it around the head and along the sensitive underside before releasing him with a wet pop and starting over again.
You can feel how wet you’re getting just from this and when you look up the sight of his dark and greedy expression has you nearly coming undone. An aching throb rolls through your slick sex and you don’t mean to whimper a needy sound around him but you do, and Klaue grins when he hears it.
“You might’ve been playing coy, but I knew how much you’d love having my cock in your mouth,” he rumbles.
Well, you can’t exactly argue with that so instead you suck - hard - hollowing out your cheeks and allowing the pressure to drag him further into your mouth. Klaue’s eyes squeeze shut and with a startled inhale he’s groaning long and deep and you’d swear before god that you can feel it against your tongue.
As you continue to suck him in and out of your mouth like this you feel his fingers slide into your hair and tighten into a fist. He’s not pushing down, right now just following the steady bobbing movement of your head, but you can feel the edge of want in his grip and your scalp stings under his touch, your entire body aching in response.
As good as it feels and as much as you would love to give in and let him take control, you instead pull your mouth off of him before he can push any harder.
"None of that”, you say, gratified when he rolls his hips upward in protest, mindlessly seeking for the lost heat and sensation. "You can fuck my mouth later", you purr as your hand continues a teasing rhythm along his length that’s now slick from your mouth. "But right now I'm going to suck your cock."
You barely recognize your own voice, desperate and demanding and full of aching need as you sit back between his Klaue’s thighs while he stares down at you, chest heaving and eyes hooded with a combination of frustration and lust.
“You want me to keep sucking your cock, don’t you?” Then, keeping your eyes on his you lower your mouth and flick your tongue through the slit at the tip of him to gather more of the precum that’s leaking there now.
Klaue growls at that and you can see the thoughts warring behind his eyes. You don’t know if this man who is so used to taking what he wants will allow you to take instead, but you don’t want to let him think too long on which he wants more so you squeeze his cock hard enough to elicit a startled hiss, returning his focus to you with a surge of heat.
“Yes,” he grits out, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.
If he was going to say anything else he doesn’t have the chance, the word is barely out when your lips are around him again and you throb at the sound of relief he makes when as your mouth returns to its ministrations. You’re surprising yourself with how much you really fucking want this, how much you love how hard he is under your tongue, and how delirious you feel as he nearly begs you, cursing and mumbling thickly, “Fuck, just like that.”
You take him further into your mouth, your lips stretching wide around him as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, not taking him in all the way but enough to make your eyes start to water and to tease him with the tightening sensation.
“Fucking perfect mouth, Christ” he pants. “Looks so good with my cock in it.” Klaue’s words send another frisson of heat to your already soaked center and you can’t help rolling your hips in time with the movements of your mouth, and you know that he can see it. 
“Wish it was inside your tight cunt instead?” he says, teasing, and you moan around him because of course you fucking do and all of your focus is required to keep up your rhythm as think about where else he could stretch you open.
He’s starting to pant as he watches where he’s almost disappearing into your mouth while your hand continues a twisting stroke at the base of him.
“Fuck, gonna come soon, darling,” Klaue groans a warning, his voice straining against the fraying edges of his control.
You desperately want to make him come like this, want to feel him pulsing on your tongue and coating your mouth. However, the part of you that makes you want to jump off a cliff into the waiting ocean below, the chaotic part that you love and that’s felt so uncertain since you met Klaue is finally back in control and, well, it wants something else. It wants to fall.
Pulling back and shallowing your movements again you quicken your pace, and even though he’s still trying to temper his thrusts he can’t help flexing his hips so that his cock slides up through your spit-slicked fist. His tone shifts from pleasure to a more urgent need with every wet suck of your mouth until the only sound he’s making is a panting grunt that matches your rhythm as you feel him nearing his edge.
Then without warning you quickly pull your mouth and hands off of him and sit back, Klaue’s expression one of confused desperation, dark and unfocused.
“Finish yourself,” you demand.
Klaue’s eyes lock onto yours as a hand moves quickly to grip his cock and then you watch him jerk himself fast and rough and harder than you ever could have. He tenses suddenly, his expression momentarily frozen somewhere between agony and bliss and then his body bows forward and he’s coming with a strangled groan while you watch mesmerized as ropes of come spill thickly over his fist and on to his stomach. 
As Klaue strokes himself through the last spasms of his climax you stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your arm and eyeing him appraisingly. Then, feeling absolutely high as a kite, you grab your things from where you had dropped them earlier and before he has a chance to recover you open the door and walk out the room.
Maybe if you’d looked back at him one more time you would have walked a little more quickly as you made your way back to your quarters. 
Because if you had looked back you would have seen a single thing burning in his eyes as they followed you out:
Run.
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Thank you for reading! I hope the wait was worth it (and we're not done yet.)
Also, here's an example of the TIG welding art that's mentioned, it's actually really cool!
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