[mad muses] muhammad ali quote (aka hormones, adrenaline, and circumstance)
NOTE: Also smut!fic for shes_thegeneral, and birthday fic for the same. Happiest of natal days to you, O Sharer of Mai Brainz. ;p WARNING: Graphic sexual situations beneath the cut...YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
“Let’s see, how’d it go? ‘There are more pleasant things to do than beat up people’…Muhammad Ali.” The petite blonde paused, then frowned a little as she blotted at the cut above his right eyebrow. “Don’t ask me how I knew that.”
Cain snorted, rolling his eyes as he allowed Buffy to tend his wounds. “Yeah, well, there’s no better way to blow off a little steam.”
“I know, right? But you’re seriously discounting the advantages of really hot, angry, wanna kill someone and make it snappy sex.” she pointed out cheerfully, making an apologetic wince as he hissed at the sting of her ministrations.
“Fuck…”
“Sorry…seriously, if I had known you were in that bar to talk to that Fyarl demon…”
“I told you, s’allright.” He reassured her again as he motioned for her to open a fresh swab. “If I’d known you were in town to question the same fucker, I never would’ve come over to yer table.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you took that fall like a pro. And that roundhouse was amazing. How do you get your leg up that high, seriously? I mean, I know I can do it, but you?”
“I fuck a lot of contortionists.” He deadpanned, smirking a little as she giggled and went back to cleaning the wounds and bruises on his face.
“You’re funny…I like you already. Now hold still, looks like that broken bottle caught your temple here…”
He watched her lean in close to inspect the wound for any trace of broken glass…he’d picked up a lot in the bar fight. When she did, though, his eyes were drawn to the full curve of her rose petal mouth, perfectly touched with a muted shade of matching lip gloss. Her scent whispered into his lungs, some mouth-watering and incredibly female combination of berry scented lotion or soap and one of those expensive perfumes that had ridiculous names like Obsession or Submission…
He tried not to stare too hard, but she felt him. Her eyes moved in that quick, startled fashion that came with sudden awareness, and with her close proximity and the way those lips parted Cain could already feel trouble brewing on both ends.
“Not a good idea, Summers.” He managed to croak. His mouth and lips were suddenly, painfully dry…it was a moment in time. A random reaction of hormones, adrenaline, and circumstance that would pass if they looked away…move his eyes, break the connection, why was he still sitting there?
“No…bad idea, very bad.”
Cain officially understood, in that moment, in that husky little-girl whisper, why Angel hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her.
“So…why are we having it? The…idea, I mean…”
Someone needed to look away before she got any closer, before his skin stopped tingling in anticipation and started feeling the touch of her fingers in other places like his arms, his shoulders, his hips…
He swallowed hard and tried not to move, not to make it worse as she leaned in and rested her forehead against his. The rose petal lips were right there now, so close he could almost taste the sweet, waxy flavor of her lipstick and the essence of her breath on the back of his tongue.
“Fuck if I know,” he replied…breathed, low and struggling and helpless, “but you need to move away.”
“Right…getting up now. Going to…uh…get more band-aids? Yeah…”
She stayed right where she was, kneeling between his knees beside the bed in her hotel room. The alcohol swab fell to the ground as her hands settled on his thighs…light, curious, wanting.
Her hands slid up. Her head tipped and she sighed. His control snapped.
One hand shot up to curl around the back of her neck, fingers tangling messily in her hair as he kissed her, hard and deep. She tasted just like he imagined, warm and heady and potent as wine. He was dizzy, drunk in a split second as she surged up to meet him and crawled into his lap. Her hands were a vise, cradling his face as she kissed him and rolled her hips with no thought for anything other than the chemical reaction that was driving them both into this stupid, careless, beautiful moment.
There was pain and pleasure as he fell back with her on top of him, hips moving wantonly as she straddled him and tugged at his shirt. She finally tore it and he hardly cared as he stripped off her sleeveless blouse and her bra, cupping her breasts with a touch that caught her by surprise as she gasped and arched into the pressure when he pinched her nipples.
She held nothing back after that as they clamored to get each other naked as quickly as possible. Cain lost himself quickly in the contrasts as her hands gripped and kneaded their way over his body. The powerful, bruising grip and harsh calluses didn’t match the soft curves and lean planes as he kissed and bit his way down her chest and belly to take her with his mouth.
“Jesus, I can’t…I don’t…don’t, please, I…want…”
The breathless, keening pleas for mercy ended with a smack to the back of his head. Drawing back testily, he narrowed his eyes up at her as she scowled back down at him…flushed, breathless, and visibly annoyed just as he felt her orgasm building.
“Don’t suck me…fuck me. Now.” She paused, then seemed to think better of it. “Please?”
Smiling in spite of himself, Cain crawled back up the length of her body and settled between her thighs, realizing why Angel hadn’t been able to stay away and why Spike had been so obsessed with this girl.
She reversed their positions once he was inside of her, riding him for a few moments until he sat up and wrapped one arm around her while the other hand slid down to tease her sex as she moved.
“C’mon, baby…c’mon, come fer me…”
The words were a growl against her neck, her clavicle, her breasts as he stroked her, meeting her thrusts and struggling for breath as her knees tried to crush his hips, the pain adding a sharper edge to every rock of her hips driving him closer and closer to coming apart.
“You…sonufa…omigodomigodomigoooo….”
She came as he bit her breast, hard enough to mark but not hard enough to break the skin. As she came, he cursed against her skin just before his own orgasm hit, nearly blinded by the friction of her body clamping down around him and her nails leaving tiny, bleeding half-moons in his back and shoulders…
He wasn’t sure if he passed out, but a gap existed between the final throes of passion and finding himself on his back with an exhausted, nude, beautifully sated blonde Slayer sprawled warmly across his body.
“Nnnnn…think ‘m actually gonna be sore in the morning.” she observed, tilting her head up to beam at him drunkenly. “I like you already.”
Cain could only snort and roll his eyes as he draped an arm around her waist and shifted to tug the sheets up over them before settling in to sleep. Hormones, adrenaline, and circumstance…he’d done some heavy stuff in his time, but he was going to need a lot of hours to sleep off the last of this cocktail.
The hangover would be a bitch…but holy shit, was it ever worth it.
Muse: Cain Callahan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (OC)
Words: 1,240
“Let’s see, how’d it go? ‘There are more pleasant things to do than beat up people’…Muhammad Ali.” The petite blonde paused, then frowned a little as she blotted at the cut above his right eyebrow. “Don’t ask me how I knew that.”
Cain snorted, rolling his eyes as he allowed Buffy to tend his wounds. “Yeah, well, there’s no better way to blow off a little steam.”
“I know, right? But you’re seriously discounting the advantages of really hot, angry, wanna kill someone and make it snappy sex.” she pointed out cheerfully, making an apologetic wince as he hissed at the sting of her ministrations.
“Fuck…”
“Sorry…seriously, if I had known you were in that bar to talk to that Fyarl demon…”
“I told you, s’allright.” He reassured her again as he motioned for her to open a fresh swab. “If I’d known you were in town to question the same fucker, I never would’ve come over to yer table.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you took that fall like a pro. And that roundhouse was amazing. How do you get your leg up that high, seriously? I mean, I know I can do it, but you?”
“I fuck a lot of contortionists.” He deadpanned, smirking a little as she giggled and went back to cleaning the wounds and bruises on his face.
“You’re funny…I like you already. Now hold still, looks like that broken bottle caught your temple here…”
He watched her lean in close to inspect the wound for any trace of broken glass…he’d picked up a lot in the bar fight. When she did, though, his eyes were drawn to the full curve of her rose petal mouth, perfectly touched with a muted shade of matching lip gloss. Her scent whispered into his lungs, some mouth-watering and incredibly female combination of berry scented lotion or soap and one of those expensive perfumes that had ridiculous names like Obsession or Submission…
He tried not to stare too hard, but she felt him. Her eyes moved in that quick, startled fashion that came with sudden awareness, and with her close proximity and the way those lips parted Cain could already feel trouble brewing on both ends.
“Not a good idea, Summers.” He managed to croak. His mouth and lips were suddenly, painfully dry…it was a moment in time. A random reaction of hormones, adrenaline, and circumstance that would pass if they looked away…move his eyes, break the connection, why was he still sitting there?
“No…bad idea, very bad.”
Cain officially understood, in that moment, in that husky little-girl whisper, why Angel hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her.
“So…why are we having it? The…idea, I mean…”
Someone needed to look away before she got any closer, before his skin stopped tingling in anticipation and started feeling the touch of her fingers in other places like his arms, his shoulders, his hips…
He swallowed hard and tried not to move, not to make it worse as she leaned in and rested her forehead against his. The rose petal lips were right there now, so close he could almost taste the sweet, waxy flavor of her lipstick and the essence of her breath on the back of his tongue.
“Fuck if I know,” he replied…breathed, low and struggling and helpless, “but you need to move away.”
“Right…getting up now. Going to…uh…get more band-aids? Yeah…”
She stayed right where she was, kneeling between his knees beside the bed in her hotel room. The alcohol swab fell to the ground as her hands settled on his thighs…light, curious, wanting.
Her hands slid up. Her head tipped and she sighed. His control snapped.
One hand shot up to curl around the back of her neck, fingers tangling messily in her hair as he kissed her, hard and deep. She tasted just like he imagined, warm and heady and potent as wine. He was dizzy, drunk in a split second as she surged up to meet him and crawled into his lap. Her hands were a vise, cradling his face as she kissed him and rolled her hips with no thought for anything other than the chemical reaction that was driving them both into this stupid, careless, beautiful moment.
There was pain and pleasure as he fell back with her on top of him, hips moving wantonly as she straddled him and tugged at his shirt. She finally tore it and he hardly cared as he stripped off her sleeveless blouse and her bra, cupping her breasts with a touch that caught her by surprise as she gasped and arched into the pressure when he pinched her nipples.
She held nothing back after that as they clamored to get each other naked as quickly as possible. Cain lost himself quickly in the contrasts as her hands gripped and kneaded their way over his body. The powerful, bruising grip and harsh calluses didn’t match the soft curves and lean planes as he kissed and bit his way down her chest and belly to take her with his mouth.
“Jesus, I can’t…I don’t…don’t, please, I…want…”
The breathless, keening pleas for mercy ended with a smack to the back of his head. Drawing back testily, he narrowed his eyes up at her as she scowled back down at him…flushed, breathless, and visibly annoyed just as he felt her orgasm building.
“Don’t suck me…fuck me. Now.” She paused, then seemed to think better of it. “Please?”
Smiling in spite of himself, Cain crawled back up the length of her body and settled between her thighs, realizing why Angel hadn’t been able to stay away and why Spike had been so obsessed with this girl.
She reversed their positions once he was inside of her, riding him for a few moments until he sat up and wrapped one arm around her while the other hand slid down to tease her sex as she moved.
“C’mon, baby…c’mon, come fer me…”
The words were a growl against her neck, her clavicle, her breasts as he stroked her, meeting her thrusts and struggling for breath as her knees tried to crush his hips, the pain adding a sharper edge to every rock of her hips driving him closer and closer to coming apart.
“You…sonufa…omigodomigodomigoooo….”
She came as he bit her breast, hard enough to mark but not hard enough to break the skin. As she came, he cursed against her skin just before his own orgasm hit, nearly blinded by the friction of her body clamping down around him and her nails leaving tiny, bleeding half-moons in his back and shoulders…
He wasn’t sure if he passed out, but a gap existed between the final throes of passion and finding himself on his back with an exhausted, nude, beautifully sated blonde Slayer sprawled warmly across his body.
“Nnnnn…think ‘m actually gonna be sore in the morning.” she observed, tilting her head up to beam at him drunkenly. “I like you already.”
Cain could only snort and roll his eyes as he draped an arm around her waist and shifted to tug the sheets up over them before settling in to sleep. Hormones, adrenaline, and circumstance…he’d done some heavy stuff in his time, but he was going to need a lot of hours to sleep off the last of this cocktail.
The hangover would be a bitch…but holy shit, was it ever worth it.
Muse: Cain Callahan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (OC)
Words: 1,240