Size Matters. NC-17.
Oh, hi, long time no see! Real Life has been kicking my ass, but in a really good way. There is still some writing going on despite having a 3.5 year old and a 2 month old (!!), though it's not as fast as it used to be. :)
There isn't enough ready in the backlog to post two or three times a week, but there is still this one ready to go! Enjoy. :)
Title: Size Matters
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 18: She wears her boots and nothing else. I've been writing far too much angst. I needed to wash out my brain a bit. :)
Summary: Ariadne was sensitive about her height and usually tried to act tough to compensate for it. Arthur loved her attitude.
Ariadne was tiny next to the men she worked with on a regular basis. She stood at five foot one inch in her bare feet, had a slender frame and almost delicate looking features to match her petite figure. Most of the men around her tended to treat her with respect for her skill as an architect, though there was sometimes an almost condescending air about her physical abilities. She had grown up with the knowledge that her size would make others view her as a potential target or take it as a sign of weakness. Short jokes made her angry, because it picked on a detail she couldn't change about herself and completely glossed over every admirable or faulty trait about her personality as if it didn't matter. And if she complained about the jokes, she was being too sensitive and couldn't take a joke or play with the big boys. Or she was being a bitch for no reason. Or she was being compared to Napoleon.
Assholes.
She was a highly trained professional, competent at what she did. She dressed with a bit more of a bohemian flair and didn't stomp around in her boots just for show. She did that because it made her happy, dammit, and the boots also meant that kicking those that teased her hurt and made them remember not to piss her off.
As much as people generally knew not to underestimate her, even Eames had come away with black and blue shins on occasion. He called her boots football cleats on occasion, which only made her grin smugly at him and remind him to bring shin guards the next time he decided to crack a few short jokes. "Yes, darling," he had said with a smirk. "But if I do that, you'll only aim a little higher, and I value those much more than my shins."
Arthur never teased her, though. While occasionally he forgot how much of an innocent she was in comparison to his experience in the field, he never attributed it to her physical appearance. If anything, she suspected that he rather enjoyed the sight of her taking charge.
That was confirmed after a job they were working on together. It was a few years after the Fischer job, and Ariadne had made a name for herself for innovative and instinctual dream design. She had just walked the team though the maze, trapping the overly self-assured members of the team in blind alleys. Arthur had stuck with her, amused smirk firmly on his lips. "You like having them underestimate you," he commented.
"Oh?"
"Gives you an extra sense of power when they realize how badly they miscalculated."
"You make me sound manipulative," Ariadne complained.
Arthur reached out and touched her arm in a gesture that was much more intimate than was strictly necessary for the dream. "It makes me wonder if you need more of a challenge."
Ariadne stopped walking and placed a hand on his chest. It was somewhat forward of her, but he wasn't opposed to the move at all. "You think you're challenge enough, then?"
His smirk turned into a full blown smile. "I know I am."
"Then take me to dinner tonight," Ariadne said, returning the smile. "We'll see how far you get with me afterward."
His smile was filthy, and it took her breath away. "I've been known to move heaven and earth to get what I want."
Oh, that was exactly what she was counting on.
***
Dinner was quietly elegant and everything Ariadne would have associated with Arthur. They went to a coffee shop afterward, which surprised her. They talked about everything and anything other than work, and Ariadne had all but forgotten that she had challenged him to try to get into her bed. It was a different side to Arthur than she had seen at work, as he was more laid back and willing to discuss art and music and his preferences for European cities. "I think I like you better this way," she blurted out as they left the coffee shop.
"What do you mean?"
"You're less intense than when you're all done up in suits. It's more... personable, I suppose."
Arthur slipped his hand down her back, smile dancing across his mouth. "Meanwhile you always have that kind of attitude in how you dress. I like it better than the more severe looks, to be sure, and I definitely like those boots better than stilettos on you."
Ariadne blinked. "You like my boots?"
He laughed. "You're surprised? They suit you better, I think."
"You have a thing for shoes, don't you?" she guessed.
"Maybe..."
Laughing, Ariadne danced a few steps forward and stuck out a foot to show off the boot she was wearing. Arthur's eyes tracked it, lips curling into a smile. "You do, don't you? I mean, your own shoes are pretty awesome, too."
Arthur laughed and stepped forward to take her into his arms. He kissed her right there and then on the sidewalk, ignoring the passersby muttering about having to walk around them. "Aren't we a pair, then?"
Ariadne pulled him down for another kiss. "Take me home."
Later, she wouldn't remember what they talked about on the walk to her apartment, or how they got from the living room to her bedroom. All she remembered was the feel of his lips on hers, the silky strands of his hair between her fingers and his eyes lighting up as she drew him down to the bed next to her. There was the inevitable push and pull as they took off each others' clothes to reach bare skin, more places to kiss and touch and gradually learn where the best spots were. He caught one foot in his hand and kissed her bare instep. "Can you wear your boots?" he asked, lips curling into a smile.
"Seriously?" she asked, an amused smile on her own face.
"Just the boots, nothing else."
"Kinky," she teased.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
His husky voice was a promise that made her wetter, and Ariadne licked her lips as she nodded. She was hyperaware of his gaze on her as she pulled off the last of her clothes and laced on the boots, though she tried to make it a little more sexy than usual. Arthur was sprawled across her bed, dwarfing the space. The look on his face spurred her on, a mix of desire and anticipation and a bit of disbelief, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening after all.
Ariadne knelt on the edge of her bed and crawled over his sprawled legs. Her boots knocked into his legs, and she had the feeling that it probably hurt a bit. Arthur's eyes were still on hers, however, that same awed expression on his face.
Never let it be said that Ariadne didn't go with it if something was working.
She locked eyes as she ducked down to kiss his abdomen. She licked a trail down toward his burgeoning cock, then took it into her mouth. He hissed in pleasure and visibly had to resist the urge to push her head farther down. "God," he moaned after a while. "I want to just..."
Smiling around him, Ariadne's head bobbed up and down slowly. She hummed a little around him, a happy tune she had heard earlier in the day. Some part of her couldn't believe this was really happening, and another wanted to savor every second of this. Her fingers skimmed over his thighs, his stomach, the tops of his knees, whatever she could touch. Arthur made little noises deep in his throat and he finally reached down to touch the top of her head. "If you keep this up, I won't last," he ground out.
Ariadne lifted her head, grinning. "But this would make a second round last longer."
"Your mouth isn't where I want to be for a first round."
Laughing, Ariadne clambered up and knelt beside him. "Then you better convince me there's going to be more, hm?"
Arthur sat up and kissed her deeply, hands running across her back. When he had to break the kiss for air, he didn't return to her mouth. His lips roamed her face, tracing the edges of her brows, her cheeks, her nose and her lips. His tongue ran down the outer rim of her ear and sent shivers down her spine. His tongue licked its way down the column of her neck. It felt as though he were setting her on fire, a trail of electric sparks shooting down her spine. Ariadne may have moaned something encouraging, though it was hard to tell.
"My turn," Arthur said, grin evident in his voice. He gently pushed her to her back and moved down, spreading her wide. Her legs fell to either side of him, her boots rubbing against his rib cage. His kisses already made her hot and wet before he slid a finger into her. She shuddered beneath him, gasping as waves of warmth flooded her. And then he brought his mouth to the inside of her thigh, licking down the sensitive flesh. His breath was hot over her skin, and he blew over her moist center. That was the last teasing pause before Arthur's tongue traveled everywhere, tasting her, plunging inside her.
"Arthur," Ariadne whimpered, writhing beneath his mouth. "God, yes, please..."
He licked and pushed his tongue into her until she came. He slowed down, letting her ride down from the high before removing his mouth. Arthur kissed his way back up her body, then gave her a rakish grin. "That doesn't even count as round one, you know."
"Bedside drawer," Ariadne replied, reaching in the general direction of her nightstand. She missed, her arm flopping a bit. "I was hoping..."
Arthur leaned over her and pulled the drawer open. It didn't take long for him to roll on a condom and then slide into her wet heat. He moved slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed when she tightened around him. He hooked his arms under her knees; it deepened his thrusts and her boots came into better view. It was over much too fast, and Arthur collapsed on top of her in an ungainly heap.
Ariadne sighed contentedly, however, her arms and legs wrapped around him. She rubbed the boots against his calf muscle and kissed his cheek. "Don't fall asleep on me yet, Arthur. You still owe me round two."
He gave her a tired kiss and a smile. "Remind me never to make fun of your stamina."
She laughed and pushed him onto his back. "Did you ever really underestimate me?" she teased.
Arthur had to laugh. "Not since the first day we met. Do your worst."
Her grin was wickedly sensual. "Oh, I intend to."
They both called in sick the next morning.
The End
There isn't enough ready in the backlog to post two or three times a week, but there is still this one ready to go! Enjoy. :)
Title: Size Matters
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 18: She wears her boots and nothing else. I've been writing far too much angst. I needed to wash out my brain a bit. :)
Summary: Ariadne was sensitive about her height and usually tried to act tough to compensate for it. Arthur loved her attitude.
Ariadne was tiny next to the men she worked with on a regular basis. She stood at five foot one inch in her bare feet, had a slender frame and almost delicate looking features to match her petite figure. Most of the men around her tended to treat her with respect for her skill as an architect, though there was sometimes an almost condescending air about her physical abilities. She had grown up with the knowledge that her size would make others view her as a potential target or take it as a sign of weakness. Short jokes made her angry, because it picked on a detail she couldn't change about herself and completely glossed over every admirable or faulty trait about her personality as if it didn't matter. And if she complained about the jokes, she was being too sensitive and couldn't take a joke or play with the big boys. Or she was being a bitch for no reason. Or she was being compared to Napoleon.
Assholes.
She was a highly trained professional, competent at what she did. She dressed with a bit more of a bohemian flair and didn't stomp around in her boots just for show. She did that because it made her happy, dammit, and the boots also meant that kicking those that teased her hurt and made them remember not to piss her off.
As much as people generally knew not to underestimate her, even Eames had come away with black and blue shins on occasion. He called her boots football cleats on occasion, which only made her grin smugly at him and remind him to bring shin guards the next time he decided to crack a few short jokes. "Yes, darling," he had said with a smirk. "But if I do that, you'll only aim a little higher, and I value those much more than my shins."
Arthur never teased her, though. While occasionally he forgot how much of an innocent she was in comparison to his experience in the field, he never attributed it to her physical appearance. If anything, she suspected that he rather enjoyed the sight of her taking charge.
That was confirmed after a job they were working on together. It was a few years after the Fischer job, and Ariadne had made a name for herself for innovative and instinctual dream design. She had just walked the team though the maze, trapping the overly self-assured members of the team in blind alleys. Arthur had stuck with her, amused smirk firmly on his lips. "You like having them underestimate you," he commented.
"Oh?"
"Gives you an extra sense of power when they realize how badly they miscalculated."
"You make me sound manipulative," Ariadne complained.
Arthur reached out and touched her arm in a gesture that was much more intimate than was strictly necessary for the dream. "It makes me wonder if you need more of a challenge."
Ariadne stopped walking and placed a hand on his chest. It was somewhat forward of her, but he wasn't opposed to the move at all. "You think you're challenge enough, then?"
His smirk turned into a full blown smile. "I know I am."
"Then take me to dinner tonight," Ariadne said, returning the smile. "We'll see how far you get with me afterward."
His smile was filthy, and it took her breath away. "I've been known to move heaven and earth to get what I want."
Oh, that was exactly what she was counting on.
***
Dinner was quietly elegant and everything Ariadne would have associated with Arthur. They went to a coffee shop afterward, which surprised her. They talked about everything and anything other than work, and Ariadne had all but forgotten that she had challenged him to try to get into her bed. It was a different side to Arthur than she had seen at work, as he was more laid back and willing to discuss art and music and his preferences for European cities. "I think I like you better this way," she blurted out as they left the coffee shop.
"What do you mean?"
"You're less intense than when you're all done up in suits. It's more... personable, I suppose."
Arthur slipped his hand down her back, smile dancing across his mouth. "Meanwhile you always have that kind of attitude in how you dress. I like it better than the more severe looks, to be sure, and I definitely like those boots better than stilettos on you."
Ariadne blinked. "You like my boots?"
He laughed. "You're surprised? They suit you better, I think."
"You have a thing for shoes, don't you?" she guessed.
"Maybe..."
Laughing, Ariadne danced a few steps forward and stuck out a foot to show off the boot she was wearing. Arthur's eyes tracked it, lips curling into a smile. "You do, don't you? I mean, your own shoes are pretty awesome, too."
Arthur laughed and stepped forward to take her into his arms. He kissed her right there and then on the sidewalk, ignoring the passersby muttering about having to walk around them. "Aren't we a pair, then?"
Ariadne pulled him down for another kiss. "Take me home."
Later, she wouldn't remember what they talked about on the walk to her apartment, or how they got from the living room to her bedroom. All she remembered was the feel of his lips on hers, the silky strands of his hair between her fingers and his eyes lighting up as she drew him down to the bed next to her. There was the inevitable push and pull as they took off each others' clothes to reach bare skin, more places to kiss and touch and gradually learn where the best spots were. He caught one foot in his hand and kissed her bare instep. "Can you wear your boots?" he asked, lips curling into a smile.
"Seriously?" she asked, an amused smile on her own face.
"Just the boots, nothing else."
"Kinky," she teased.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
His husky voice was a promise that made her wetter, and Ariadne licked her lips as she nodded. She was hyperaware of his gaze on her as she pulled off the last of her clothes and laced on the boots, though she tried to make it a little more sexy than usual. Arthur was sprawled across her bed, dwarfing the space. The look on his face spurred her on, a mix of desire and anticipation and a bit of disbelief, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening after all.
Ariadne knelt on the edge of her bed and crawled over his sprawled legs. Her boots knocked into his legs, and she had the feeling that it probably hurt a bit. Arthur's eyes were still on hers, however, that same awed expression on his face.
Never let it be said that Ariadne didn't go with it if something was working.
She locked eyes as she ducked down to kiss his abdomen. She licked a trail down toward his burgeoning cock, then took it into her mouth. He hissed in pleasure and visibly had to resist the urge to push her head farther down. "God," he moaned after a while. "I want to just..."
Smiling around him, Ariadne's head bobbed up and down slowly. She hummed a little around him, a happy tune she had heard earlier in the day. Some part of her couldn't believe this was really happening, and another wanted to savor every second of this. Her fingers skimmed over his thighs, his stomach, the tops of his knees, whatever she could touch. Arthur made little noises deep in his throat and he finally reached down to touch the top of her head. "If you keep this up, I won't last," he ground out.
Ariadne lifted her head, grinning. "But this would make a second round last longer."
"Your mouth isn't where I want to be for a first round."
Laughing, Ariadne clambered up and knelt beside him. "Then you better convince me there's going to be more, hm?"
Arthur sat up and kissed her deeply, hands running across her back. When he had to break the kiss for air, he didn't return to her mouth. His lips roamed her face, tracing the edges of her brows, her cheeks, her nose and her lips. His tongue ran down the outer rim of her ear and sent shivers down her spine. His tongue licked its way down the column of her neck. It felt as though he were setting her on fire, a trail of electric sparks shooting down her spine. Ariadne may have moaned something encouraging, though it was hard to tell.
"My turn," Arthur said, grin evident in his voice. He gently pushed her to her back and moved down, spreading her wide. Her legs fell to either side of him, her boots rubbing against his rib cage. His kisses already made her hot and wet before he slid a finger into her. She shuddered beneath him, gasping as waves of warmth flooded her. And then he brought his mouth to the inside of her thigh, licking down the sensitive flesh. His breath was hot over her skin, and he blew over her moist center. That was the last teasing pause before Arthur's tongue traveled everywhere, tasting her, plunging inside her.
"Arthur," Ariadne whimpered, writhing beneath his mouth. "God, yes, please..."
He licked and pushed his tongue into her until she came. He slowed down, letting her ride down from the high before removing his mouth. Arthur kissed his way back up her body, then gave her a rakish grin. "That doesn't even count as round one, you know."
"Bedside drawer," Ariadne replied, reaching in the general direction of her nightstand. She missed, her arm flopping a bit. "I was hoping..."
Arthur leaned over her and pulled the drawer open. It didn't take long for him to roll on a condom and then slide into her wet heat. He moved slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed when she tightened around him. He hooked his arms under her knees; it deepened his thrusts and her boots came into better view. It was over much too fast, and Arthur collapsed on top of her in an ungainly heap.
Ariadne sighed contentedly, however, her arms and legs wrapped around him. She rubbed the boots against his calf muscle and kissed his cheek. "Don't fall asleep on me yet, Arthur. You still owe me round two."
He gave her a tired kiss and a smile. "Remind me never to make fun of your stamina."
She laughed and pushed him onto his back. "Did you ever really underestimate me?" she teased.
Arthur had to laugh. "Not since the first day we met. Do your worst."
Her grin was wickedly sensual. "Oh, I intend to."
They both called in sick the next morning.
The End