Standing Male, Nude 1kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:13:01 UTC
This is for you, anon, with thanks for your patience. I hope this is something like what you were looking for. This is a wip, but there are only two more chunks to come and I didn't want you to have to wait any longer for what I did have down. All love, me <3 ----------
Steam Not long ago so far, a lover and I in a room of steam - a sly, thirsty, silvery word - lay down, opposite ends, and vanished.
Quite recently, if one of us sat up, or stood, or stretched, naked,
a nude pose in soft pencil behind tissue paper
appeared, rubbed itself out, slow, with a smoky cloth.
Say a matter of months. This hand reaching through the steam
to touch the real thing, shockingly there, not a ghost at all.
Five weeks to inception
She hadn't meant to look.
Steam was unfurling from around the edges of the half open door. From behind it she could hear the steady beat of water from a shower head. She knew what she should do. Knock firmly, announce herself and let Arthur answer. But when she raised her hand to the wood her palm flattened, some rogue impulse tweaked her and
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 1kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:17:13 UTC
Her mouth went dry. He was thinking about her.
Not as The Architect, the coworker worthy of mutual respect, but as woman who he could pleasure and be pleased in return. A woman with lips, breasts, hips, legs and a sex that he could want and touch. Oh god, could that really be what lay underneath that cool, half smiling exterior? Was that all it would take, something as simple as her scent on a stray piece of soft fabric, to break in?
One hand strayed up to her chest and found the skin there burning with her own heat. She had to leave, she had to. It was wrong to stand here like a cheap voyeur watching this incredible display of lust while her body tingled and turned liquid. Getting off on Arthur getting off on thinking of getting her off in some closed loop of desire that they had only ever barely hinted at.
His hips rolled forwards and she could see the tension tightening the muscles in his stomach, his chest and his arms. "Oh Ari; oh please Ari; oh, fuck me!" He panted in short, desperate bursts, his hand speeding up and gripping
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 2kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:20:03 UTC
Four weeks to inception
"Oh, Ariadne. That's it."
He said to himself, nodding in approval as he looked around.
("That's how you like it, isn't it?") She felt the blush rising, hot and involuntary, spreading from her cheeks and onto her chest. "Thank you." She managed even though her tongue felt thick and stupid from the image suddenly replaying in pornographic detail her mind.
"It's perfect." They stood in the lobby of the hotel level, an empty echoing cavern of stone, glass and wood. Leather sofas clustered in groups and the warm gold of the lamps shone off every reflective surface. She had spent days refining it, hours spent pouring over his notes on how to make it feel right and now they were under so Arthur could make his appraisal.
"The fire access stair well has the Penrose steps you asked for." Her voice felt horribly high pitched in the space. "And each room has a safe. For the explosives you wanted to bring in." He turned to back to her and frowned.
"You look hot. Are you feeling unwell?" "No. No!" ("Harder, angel, harder!")
Standing Male, Nude 3kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:32:30 UTC
Three weeks to inception
"That's how you like it, isn't it?"
She jumped, her pencil clattering to the floor and a wobbly grey line scoring over the watchtower she had been drawing.
Arthur was holding out a cup of coffee, his fingers curled around it in an all too familiar grip. Bubbles of milky foam peeked from the top."Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." His customary half smile tugged at his mouth. "Non fat latte with an extra shot of espresso, right?" ("Harder, angel, harder!")
"Yes." She shook her head, "Right. Sorry." She reached out and took the cup with a slightly unsteady hand, causing some of the froth to spill onto Arthur's fingers.
"Damn." He muttered, then brought them up to his lips. The white liquid pooled in the creases of his lips as he sucked it off, and she felt her mouth dropping open.
("Please, Ari; Oh, fuck me!")
"Ariadne, are you sure you're alright?"
Oh god, she'd been staring.
"Fine, I...I'm just tired." The lie fell off her lips too easily.
"Look, go home for the night. There's nothing here you can't finish in the
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 4kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:36:38 UTC
Two weeks to inception
"Harder, for god's sake, harder!"
The door slammed loudly in the empty space of the workshop, but Arthur's strained voice carried perfectly clearly over it. "I said harder!" Ariadne felt her satchel drop by her feet, her fingers suddenly sweaty and limp. "If you can't do it properly there's no point, is there?" He was practically spitting the words out, urgent and rough in his dark voice.
"Bloody hell Arthur! If you don't want me to do it go to the fucking hospital and abuse them instead." She heard Eames reply. The hospital?
"Cobb! Is that you?" She heard Arthur's voice rise, grating and impatient. "No," She managed, and cursed herself for sounding so pallid and shaky. "It's me. Ariadne." She added then cringed at how pointless saying her own name was. How many other women were likely to be in the workshop?
"Get over here!" He barked. "Yes, please, come over here sweetheart and try to convince Arthur to let me do what I'm doing without being such a massive arse."
She crossed the floor nervously, trying not to think
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 4kore_risingSeptember 1 2010, 23:39:05 UTC
She stood on his right and turned his head into her abdomen. His breath was hot and short through her shirt as he pressed into her. She put one hand on his head and she could feel the sweat sheening on his too pale skin. "Are you ready?" Eames had his hands around the injured joint. She nodded and Arthur yelled "Just do it will you!", the sound muffled in her ribs.
"One, two..."
He was suddenly shoved against into her body, the force nearly knocking her over even as she pushed back, gripping the chair with white knuckles. There was a sickening, dry, bone grinding pop and Arthur screamed "Oh fuck!" into her, the words vibrating a thousand heated nerves.
"...three. There, done."
"oh god, oh god, oh god..." He was panting into her skin, shaking and slumped against her. She moved her hand to soothe him and tried not to think about the last time she'd seen him like this. Suddenly the image of a white tile wall was bright and stubborn in her mind.
Eames gently tucked Arthur's arm back into the sling. "Are you sure you're alright, love?" He
( ... )
Re: Standing Male, Nude 4kore_risingSeptember 2 2010, 12:32:47 UTC
Thank you! I'm going to try and wrap it up in the next few days; but if you're liking it so far then I'm happy too. It was a pleasure to write and thanks for reposting it!
Standing Male, Nude 5kore_risingSeptember 7 2010, 22:15:37 UTC
One week to inception
"Oh fuck Ariadne, please!"
Her fists curled into her sides reflexively, even though the only tone in Arthur's voice was irritation. ("Oh, Ari, that's it.")
"Be reasonable for just one minute, could you?" She shot back.
"I am being reasonable. There's no need for you to know how to handle a gun because I will be there." "You can't be watching my back the whole time Eames' is the subject. I'm not going to let you treat me like a child." He grabbed her forearm and closed the space between them, his face shut down tight in ferocious lines. "You are not and nor do I think of you..." he exhaled hard, as if he was reining himself in ("Harder, angel, harder.") "...as a child."
"You saw what happened last time. I can't be that vulnerable again." The memory poured back in a flood of disjointed images, fists connecting with her face, bones snapping, pain coming in huge waves and blood red on the white, white snow while Eames' yelled and explosions rocked the skyline. His eyes softened, perhaps understanding, perhaps remembering
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 5kore_risingSeptember 7 2010, 22:20:26 UTC
The space he created for them to train in was plain, white walled. An awful choice, she thought, as hot beads of water seemed to pearl in the air without her realising. She clamped down hard on the image, refusing to recreate it here, where it could come so potently to life.
Arthur removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, then turned to her and said without preamble "Hit me." "Pardon?" She frowned up at his impassive face. "It's no good teaching you anything if I don't know what you can do already. Hit me."
She reluctantly made a fist, looked at him once, then flung her hand into space. The sound as he caught it neatly in his palm was dry smack. His fingers curled over hers as he lowered her hand, instantly too soft and too intimate a gesture in their current surroundings. He had never touched her for so long in life: She could feel herself heating under her clothes ("Oh Ari, that's it.") and nothing, no thought, seemed to stem the tide rising inside her.
"OK, one; you don't just hit and hope. Two, don't fully extend your arm. Three
( ... )
Standing Male, Nude 6kore_risingSeptember 13 2010, 19:35:20 UTC
Dear OP, you have been massively patient and hopefully (please, Muse, cooperate will you?) tonight I will finish this for you. I hope the wait proves worth it and I haven't been too much of a fic tease. All love,
----------
Twenty four hours after inception
The knock on her hotel room door was short and firm.
Ariadne turned from the Los Angeles night spread out before her in a galaxy of neon on black, away from the thoughts of what she should do next (Paris? School? A life of mind crime? Would they still want her now all was said and done? Home, to her family and a life like everyone else's, quiet and bounded by Newtonian physics?) Her breath had clouded on the window, obscuring the world below into an indistinct smudge. It seemed too far away now, too unreal to ever be a place she could belong to again and stay sane.
She padded across the lush carpet, thicker than mud beneath her feet. "Who is it?" "Arthur."
The door opened noiselessly. "Did you check before you opened it?" He was crisp and sharp as a pencil line on white paper. "You said
( ... )
Re: Standing Male, Nude 6kore_risingSeptember 15 2010, 11:27:24 UTC
You have been so massively patient with me, I'm not sure how to thank you. I'm literally at the B of the Bang as we speak (I've just got to work out how to get Ariadne across a room, would you believe)and my brain is stuck like a fly on fly paper. But I am unglueing it as best I can with plenty of coffee. So thank you!
Reply
Reply
----------
Steam
Not long ago so far, a lover and I
in a room of steam -
a sly, thirsty, silvery word - lay down,
opposite ends, and vanished.
Quite recently, if one of us sat up,
or stood, or stretched, naked,
a nude pose in soft pencil
behind tissue paper
appeared, rubbed itself out, slow,
with a smoky cloth.
Say a matter of months. This hand reaching
through the steam
to touch the real thing, shockingly there,
not a ghost at all.
Five weeks to inception
She hadn't meant to look.
Steam was unfurling from around the edges of the half open door. From behind it she could hear the steady beat of water from a shower head. She knew what she should do. Knock firmly, announce herself and let Arthur answer. But when she raised her hand to the wood her palm flattened, some rogue impulse tweaked her and ( ... )
Reply
Not as The Architect, the coworker worthy of mutual respect, but as woman who he could pleasure and be pleased in return. A woman with lips, breasts, hips, legs and a sex that he could want and touch. Oh god, could that really be what lay underneath that cool, half smiling exterior? Was that all it would take, something as simple as her scent on a stray piece of soft fabric, to break in?
One hand strayed up to her chest and found the skin there burning with her own heat. She had to leave, she had to. It was wrong to stand here like a cheap voyeur watching this incredible display of lust while her body tingled and turned liquid. Getting off on Arthur getting off on thinking of getting her off in some closed loop of desire that they had only ever barely hinted at.
His hips rolled forwards and she could see the tension tightening the muscles in his stomach, his chest and his arms. "Oh Ari; oh please Ari; oh, fuck me!" He panted in short, desperate bursts, his hand speeding up and gripping ( ... )
Reply
Four weeks to inception
"Oh, Ariadne. That's it."
He said to himself, nodding in approval as he looked around.
("That's how you like it, isn't it?") She felt the blush rising, hot and involuntary, spreading from her cheeks and onto her chest. "Thank you." She managed even though her tongue felt thick and stupid from the image suddenly replaying in pornographic detail her mind.
"It's perfect."
They stood in the lobby of the hotel level, an empty echoing cavern of stone, glass and wood. Leather sofas clustered in groups and the warm gold of the lamps shone off every reflective surface. She had spent days refining it, hours spent pouring over his notes on how to make it feel right and now they were under so Arthur could make his appraisal.
"The fire access stair well has the Penrose steps you asked for." Her voice felt horribly high pitched in the space. "And each room has a safe. For the explosives you wanted to bring in." He turned to back to her and frowned.
"You look hot. Are you feeling unwell?"
"No. No!"
("Harder, angel, harder!")
"You ( ... )
Reply
"That's how you like it, isn't it?"
She jumped, her pencil clattering to the floor and a wobbly grey line scoring over the watchtower she had been drawing.
Arthur was holding out a cup of coffee, his fingers curled around it in an all too familiar grip. Bubbles of milky foam peeked from the top."Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." His customary half smile tugged at his mouth. "Non fat latte with an extra shot of espresso, right?"
("Harder, angel, harder!")
"Yes." She shook her head, "Right. Sorry." She reached out and took the cup with a slightly unsteady hand, causing some of the froth to spill onto Arthur's fingers.
"Damn." He muttered, then brought them up to his lips. The white liquid pooled in the creases of his lips as he sucked it off, and she felt her mouth dropping open.
("Please, Ari; Oh, fuck me!")
"Ariadne, are you sure you're alright?"
Oh god, she'd been staring.
"Fine, I...I'm just tired." The lie fell off her lips too easily.
"Look, go home for the night. There's nothing here you can't finish in the ( ... )
Reply
"Harder, for god's sake, harder!"
The door slammed loudly in the empty space of the workshop, but Arthur's strained voice carried perfectly clearly over it. "I said harder!" Ariadne felt her satchel drop by her feet, her fingers suddenly sweaty and limp. "If you can't do it properly there's no point, is there?" He was practically spitting the words out, urgent and rough in his dark voice.
"Bloody hell Arthur! If you don't want me to do it go to the fucking hospital and abuse them instead." She heard Eames reply. The hospital?
"Cobb! Is that you?" She heard Arthur's voice rise, grating and impatient.
"No," She managed, and cursed herself for sounding so pallid and shaky. "It's me. Ariadne." She added then cringed at how pointless saying her own name was. How many other women were likely to be in the workshop?
"Get over here!" He barked.
"Yes, please, come over here sweetheart and try to convince Arthur to let me do what I'm doing without being such a massive arse."
She crossed the floor nervously, trying not to think ( ... )
Reply
She stood on his right and turned his head into her abdomen. His breath was hot and short through her shirt as he pressed into her. She put one hand on his head and she could feel the sweat sheening on his too pale skin.
"Are you ready?" Eames had his hands around the injured joint. She nodded and Arthur yelled "Just do it will you!", the sound muffled in her ribs.
"One, two..."
He was suddenly shoved against into her body, the force nearly knocking her over even as she pushed back, gripping the chair with white knuckles. There was a sickening, dry, bone grinding pop and Arthur screamed "Oh fuck!" into her, the words vibrating a thousand heated nerves.
"...three. There, done."
"oh god, oh god, oh god..." He was panting into her skin, shaking and slumped against her. She moved her hand to soothe him and tried not to think about the last time she'd seen him like this. Suddenly the image of a white tile wall was bright and stubborn in her mind.
Eames gently tucked Arthur's arm back into the sling. "Are you sure you're alright, love?" He ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
"Oh fuck Ariadne, please!"
Her fists curled into her sides reflexively, even though the only tone in Arthur's voice was irritation. ("Oh, Ari, that's it.")
"Be reasonable for just one minute, could you?" She shot back.
"I am being reasonable. There's no need for you to know how to handle a gun because I will be there."
"You can't be watching my back the whole time Eames' is the subject. I'm not going to let you treat me like a child." He grabbed her forearm and closed the space between them, his face shut down tight in ferocious lines.
"You are not and nor do I think of you..." he exhaled hard, as if he was reining himself in ("Harder, angel, harder.") "...as a child."
"You saw what happened last time. I can't be that vulnerable again." The memory poured back in a flood of disjointed images, fists connecting with her face, bones snapping, pain coming in huge waves and blood red on the white, white snow while Eames' yelled and explosions rocked the skyline. His eyes softened, perhaps understanding, perhaps remembering ( ... )
Reply
The space he created for them to train in was plain, white walled. An awful choice, she thought, as hot beads of water seemed to pearl in the air without her realising. She clamped down hard on the image, refusing to recreate it here, where it could come so potently to life.
Arthur removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, then turned to her and said without preamble "Hit me."
"Pardon?" She frowned up at his impassive face.
"It's no good teaching you anything if I don't know what you can do already. Hit me."
She reluctantly made a fist, looked at him once, then flung her hand into space. The sound as he caught it neatly in his palm was dry smack. His fingers curled over hers as he lowered her hand, instantly too soft and too intimate a gesture in their current surroundings. He had never touched her for so long in life: She could feel herself heating under her clothes ("Oh Ari, that's it.") and nothing, no thought, seemed to stem the tide rising inside her.
"OK, one; you don't just hit and hope. Two, don't fully extend your arm. Three ( ... )
Reply
Reply
----------
Twenty four hours after inception
The knock on her hotel room door was short and firm.
Ariadne turned from the Los Angeles night spread out before her in a galaxy of neon on black, away from the thoughts of what she should do next (Paris? School? A life of mind crime? Would they still want her now all was said and done? Home, to her family and a life like everyone else's, quiet and bounded by Newtonian physics?) Her breath had clouded on the window, obscuring the world below into an indistinct smudge. It seemed too far away now, too unreal to ever be a place she could belong to again and stay sane.
She padded across the lush carpet, thicker than mud beneath her feet. "Who is it?"
"Arthur."
The door opened noiselessly. "Did you check before you opened it?" He was crisp and sharp as a pencil line on white paper.
"You said ( ... )
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