I hardly (if ever) see any SniperPauling, so I decided to give it a shot, since it's one of my favorite pairings. I do have a fanfiction account, but its pretty much dead and I thought I'd get some better feedback on here. Writing sex scenes is very tough for me, but I need the practice. I pray the formatting doesn't look atrocious. ;; ----- “Are you sure it’s okay…?†A long pause followed. “…Yeah.†The sound of crickets rose and fell over the tall grass. A steady breeze rustled the green stalks, cooling the thick, nighttime air. The petite assistant quietly placed her feet onto the metal steps of the Sniper’s camper van, her heart beating much faster than it should. Her teeth found her bottom lip as she made her way up the clunky stairs. She swallowed. The relationship between the little secretary and the assassin had always been a surprise to her. How or when exactly it had happened, she could not quite recall. They had always been civil towards each other. He was polite enough. They shared a love of guns, silence, and nature. Nothing more than mutual friends, but an invite into his normally private camper van had rattled her more than expected. She could feel the steely eyes of the Australian on her back, one of his tan, sinewy arms grasping the handrail beside her in an almost protective fashion. Once inside, her keen eyes studied the small van, his woodsy scent bombarding her tiny nose. The area suddenly felt much more cramped than she had originally thought, and she found herself wishing she should not have made this decision. Her current anxieties grew even more as she felt the Sniper move up behind her, his arm nearly bumping against her own. “Well, this is ih,†he said simply, his low, dry accented voice sending a small shock up her spine. The assistant nodded silently in acknowledgement, her dark eyes remaining on the closed-in walls of the van. It was fairly clean, much to her pleasant surprise. Well, as clean as she expected. Most of the walls were decorated with the bones and teeth of animals, all polished and white. Her eyes fell onto the leathery head of a crocodile, its mouth slightly agape to reveal the rows of razor-sharp, pearly whites. She found herself wanting to ask about the animal bones, but remained quiet. She realized that her fingers had instinctively begun to pick at her nails; a nervous habit that she had desperately tried to get rid of. The Sniper carefully moved past her and motioned to the back end of the van. “Make yourself at home, miss,†his voice held a bit of false hospitality in it, and she could tell he was slightly uneasy as well. Being as careful as possible, she walked further down the linoleum floor, finding a small niche in the side of the wall filled with a table and chairs. She assumed this was his ‘kitchen’ area. The petite woman scooted herself into one of the chairs, resting her hands uncomfortably in her lap. She could hear him fumbling through a cabinet above her, the sound of glass clinking together filling her ears. It was not much longer that the warm, homey smell of coffee filled the camper, much to her relief. Coffee sounded good right about now. She sighed, the familiar scent making her feel more at ease. Miss. Pauling was not a nervous woman. She was very collected, organized, and was hardly ever flustered, so the thumping of her heart against her chest was making her more than a bit worried. She was so lost in thought that she did not hear the Sniper offering her a mug full of coffee. “…Miss. Pauling?†He spoke over the cloudy thoughts in her head, his tone pinched with concern. The dark-haired woman blinked beneath her cat-eye glasses as she stared up at the Australian. “Oh, yes. Thank you,†her voice was quieter and much higher than she expected, making her cheeks fill with blood. She gently took the mug from him, her lips carefully sipping at the hot liquid. He sat across from her, “Hope yew don’t mind ih black,†he said between sips, crossing his long legs to give her some more room under the table. She smiled. “That’s how I always drink it.†A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Miss. Pauling peeked up at him over the rim of the mug. There was always something endearing about his smile. He hardly ever smiled, and even the slightest quirk of his lips was absolutely charming. They remained like that for a while, sipping coffee, chatting every now and then. It was more than pleasant, and the petite assistant was glad she had decided to stay with him. The Sniper was surprisingly a decent conversationalist. She thought it might have been strange for him to be alone with her. Every other time they had spoken, they had been in the vicinity of other people. But he held up rather well, asking her questions and staying quite engaging. He always had such incredible stories about his life in the Outback, and she found herself listening to him with great admiration, her chin resting comfortably on her small hands, much like a child. She loved his voice. Low, hushed, and the slightest bit gravely. Never grating or annoying. She found she could listen to him for hours. And so she did. They spoke for quite some time, the hours passing by unnoticed. It was not until their coffee pot went dry that they realized it was nearly midnight. The assassin cleared his throat, a brief look of sheepishness passing over his sun-worn features. “Sorry miss…didn’t realize ‘ow late ih wos…†He took her empty mug and placed it with his in the nearby sink. “…’M sure ya got work to do.†Miss. Pauling tucked a strand of rebellious hair behind her ear. “Yes, I do…†she spoke softly, cautiously standing from the tiny chair. She made eye contact with him briefly before looking down to smooth out the wrinkles in her pale violet skirt. She made her way to the front end of the camper, her eyes staying glued to the worn, linoleum floor. The air fell thick with silence as her hand curled around the cold, metal railing of the stairs. She tucked away more dark hair behind her ears before turning to face the Sniper. He suddenly felt intimidatingly tall to her, his keen eyes staring down at her underneath his amber shades. She cleared her throat. “…Thank you,†she eventually spoke, her voice straining so hard to sound firm and confident. She heard him click his lips slightly. “You’re…welcome…†he responded, the slight pause in his answer filling her with more uneasiness. She chewed on her bottom lip as she gave him a slight nod, her gaze struggling to pull away from his. Her eyes lingered on the thin scar on the side of his face. Finally, she found the strength to speak again. “Well, goodnight,†she more firm than she had liked, her hand slipping down the railing as she turned to leave. The moment her foot found the first step, she felt a large hand at her shoulder. Miss. Pauling sucked in a breath as his rough fingertips brushed her shoulder blade ever so slightly. She immediately turned and looked at him, her eyes widening under her cat-eye glasses. The Sniper seemed just as surprised, his hand retracting away from her, leaving the spot on her shoulder strangely cold. His mouth was agape as if he were about to speak, but he did not. “Yes, Mr. Mundy?†She prodded in a tone that was a little less than gentle. A thick, single brow rose at the sound of the assassin’s real name being used, his nose scrunching up for a brief moment. She watched in amusement as he cocked his hip slightly to one side, his hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. The action suggested a hint of shyness; His face, however, remained as placid as always. A long, heavy sigh fell from his lips, the sound turning into more of a low grumble towards the end. With a great feeling of tension in the air, he reached out and grasped her petite shoulder, his lips pressing tightly together. “Miss, I’m not so good with words,†he said just above a whisper, his accent strong and scratchy. She could feel his fingers curl slowly against her shoulder blade, the pads of his fingertips tracing the muscles in her back. Her dark orbs stayed fixated on his amber shades. She felt him pull her in, his back hunching slightly so that he could look her straight in the eye. They were close now, closer than they had ever been before. She could smell the coffee on his breath and the gunpowder and sweat on his shirt. The Sniper remained still in front of her, his sharp eyes keenly observing every move she made, like a hunter and its prey. Miss. Pauling kept her head tilted towards the floor, the blood rushing to the very tips of her ears. She could faintly see his eyes beneath his shades. He was waiting for her. Hesitantly, she tilted her head towards him, her tongue unconsciously poking past her lips to moisten them. She heard him draw in a breath as their lips finally met. The Sniper’s lips were leathery and the slightest bit dry, but the kiss was far from unpleasant. She tilted her head, the tip of their noses brushing together for a brief moment. He growled softly in response to her eagerness, the vibration of his deep voice tickling her rosey lips. As soon as she began to grow more comfortable with his kisses, he pulled away, his hand bracing her shoulder tightly. Her eyes fluttered open to meet the cobalt eyes of the assassin. His mouth was somewhat agape and his signature shades were crooked on his face. On anyone else, it would have looked rather foolish, but on the Sniper, it perfectly portrayed an endearing look of child-like nervousness. …An expression very rarely seen on the Australians’ face. He grumbled deep in his throat. For a moment, she thought he was going to speak, but instead he lowered his lips onto hers again, taking her by surprise. The kiss was much more firm this time, forcing Miss. Pauling to grip onto the metal handrail behind her. His lips were strong and sure against hers, the stubble he missed from his morning shave scraping at her soft face. Growing more eager, he moved himself against the tiny woman, pushing her up against the handrail behind her. The hard muscle of his torso was hard to ignore through her thin blouse, sending a fresh wave of blood to her rosey cheeks. She traced a finger down the assassin’s chest, focusing on each part of his body. His firm, broad chest…the tautness of his stomach…the slight curve of his hips… … Miss. Pauling drew in a loud breath through her nostrils, causing the Sniper to quickly end their kiss with a loud ‘smack’. She saw the flash of his unusually sharp canines as his lip quirked up in slight concern. The petite woman shifted against the handrail behind her, the cold metal pressing into her backside as she tried to catch her breath. It had occurred to her more than once that this was highly unprofessional. She knew that being here like this with him could possibly end badly. But then she thought of his firm kisses…his strong hands…his scratchy, accented voice. More blood filled her cheeks. The tension that was so obvious between them was driving her mad. Before he could apologize to her, she held a hand up, her small palm skimming briefly against his firm chest. She could tell he was just as uneasy and embarrassed as she was, although he was much better at hiding it. “No, it’s all right.†Her voice was breathy as she reached back to hold the metal bar once again, her hips cocking to one side. Miss. Pauling watched the Sniper’s eyes travel from her face to her legs. She bit her lip. He looked away for a second, his posture slouching as he let out a short sigh. She tried desperately not to look at his hips. “You sure…?†His voice was much lower than usual, his cobalt orbs studying her out of the corners of his thinly slit eyes. It was clear to her that he was having the same thoughts as she was. Their eyes met after a long, painful pause. “Yes.†Miss. Pauling could not quite recall what exactly happened in the next few moments. All she remembered was suddenly being placed on the Sniper’s tiny bed in the back of his van. Her heart rate skyrocketed. She sat plainly on the end of his bed, her legs hanging off the side as her fingers stayed busy at the hem of her blouse. The bed was rather small, certainly not designed for two people. A blue knit blanket sat beneath her, the unkempt, tan sheets tangled around the wool. A singular window had been cut above the headboard, the brown, thick curtains drawn together. She watched him lean over her, and she began to realize just how much taller and built he was compared to her. Their lips met once more. The petite woman braced the blanket tightly beneath her as he kissed her, one of his hands moving to gently cup the back of her neck. His fingers threaded through the loose bun in her dark hair, the contrast of his rough fingers and her soft locks feeling wonderful on his weary skin. A shiver ran up her spine as the tips of his digits brushed across the back of her neck. The Sniper’s hands were tough; full of blisters, bruises, and callouses. But his touch was surprisingly gentle, she discovered, his free hand slowly trailing up the side of her pale neck. Her lips parted ever so slightly, a quiet gasp slipping out as he tangled his fingers through her hair. He broke their kiss to stare at her, a blush spreading across her nose as he studied her face. An uneasy feeling rose in her stomach. His eyes were still covered by his amber shades, obscuring his steely blue orbs. He remained quiet as he studied her features, making the petite assistant feel the slightest bit self-conscious. Miss. Pauling was well aware that she did not possess model-like features or a bombshell figure. Her plain, often dowdy work clothes also did no justice to her tiny curves as well. She finally heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded faintly like a compliment, but the words were lost under the sound of his steady exhaling. The blush in her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears. The Sniper leaned towards the small woman, causing her to slide back further onto the mattress. He was now sitting on his knees in front of her, the side of his lip quirked up slightly to show his unusually sharp teeth. The movement was gradual but sure, expressing a hint of dominance over the doe-eyed lady. Her stomach churned. The fact that she was here like this with a hired killer sent an unexpected feeling of excitement through her body. Miss. Pauling vaguely wondered if he had any experience in this before, but was cut off by the sensation of his leathery lips at her jawline. Her chest heaved, his mouth tentatively exploring the area below her earlobe. Her eyelids felt heavy as he firmly kissed the cartilage around her ear, his arms closing her in on either side. His breathing was low and controlled, each purposely long-drawn exhale sending tiny shudders down her back. She withheld a gasp through tight lips as his teeth found a sensitive spot on the very end of her earlobe. Her quiet voice moaned his name as he tugged gently on the soft flesh with his teeth. A low, almost animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, his well-toned arms wrapping around her petite form to pull her close to him. His hold on her was rather tight, her small breasts pressing almost-painfully against his firm body. Miss. Pauling brought her palms to his chest as he continued to nip at her earlobe. She pushed gradually on his chest, trying to create some space between them to allow her to breathe properly. The Australian must have felt her pushing on him, because he ceased his earlobe kisses for a moment to look down at her. She froze. “Yew alroight love…?†The sound of his voice made her quiver in his arms. Her teeth searched for her plush bottom lip. “You’re…squeezing too hard.†She watched his eyebrows turn up slightly and his lips press together. He seemed quite embarrassed. “Sorry…†he whispered quickly, the faintest tint of crimson spreading along the bridge of his nose. The little assistant could not stop the oncoming smile that spread across her lips. She remained quiet, however, in fear of embarrassing the assassin even more. Her dark eyes met his stare, a glint of impishness passing over her feminine features very briefly. He watched her lavender-stained eyelids lower as she pointed to the mattress below them. “Sit.†She commanded simply, her thick eyelashes batting for a moment. The Sniper’s lip pursed slightly as he obeyed the tiny lady, sitting with his long legs crossed in front of her. Miss. Pauling smiled faintly before making herself comfortable in the Australian’s lap. She felt him jolt, her action obviously taking him by surprise. She grinned deeply. Before he could question her, she gingerly pressed her lips to the side of his neck, feeling the warm skin pulse beneath her mouth. She felt him shift below her, a strained noise vibrating in the back of his throat. The petite assistant gathered a handful of his shirt into her small palms, continuing to shower his sun-worn neck with impossibly soft kisses. The Sniper bit down hard into his bottom lip as she pressed herself against him, every lithe, womanly curve of her body decipherable through his red cotton shirt. It amused her how much he was holding back, his fingers gripping tightly at the tan bed sheets, threatening to tear the thin fabric. He remained rather quiet however, much akin to his personality. Miss. Pauling watched a small bead of blood form on his bottom lip as he chewed at his skin, attempting to keep himself as quiet as possible. She stayed still for a moment, watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath. She carefully observed his sun-worn features…the scars on his neck and face…his high cheekbones…his dark, unshaven stubble. With child-like curiosity, she reached up and began to stroke his face, feeling things with her hands that her eyes could not tell her. She felt every bump and scratch, admiring the brunet hair that was beginning to fall across his forehead. The little assistant brushed the stray hair away with a gentle flick, her nose touching his forehead for a second. A soft giggle fell from her lips. He grunted in response. Without much of a warning, he forced his lips onto hers, tilting his head to gain better access to her mouth. Miss. Pauling whimpered quietly as he explored her mouth, his teeth scraping lightly against her own. The force of his kiss was causing her to bend backwards. He noticed this, one of his strong hands moving to hold the arch of her back. She allowed a moan to slip past her lips. The Sniper was no longer treating her delicately. His teeth nipped at her plush lips…his hands ran up and down the curve of her back…his tongue languidly stroked her own. She could taste coffee and tobacco from a cigarette he had smoked earlier. Her mind began to grow cloudy, the unbearable heat in her face spreading to other places in her body. The need of oxygen forced them to pull away. Their eyes lingered together for a moment before Miss. Pauling began to bring her tiny fingers up to her blouse. Slowly and deliberately, her digits worked on the pearly buttons, her dark eyes never leaving his. She could see the pale tint of blood-red gradually fill his cheeks, his cobalt eyes widening slightly underneath his amber shades. Her rosey lips remained pursed, allowing him to stare at the faint bite marks and the gloss of saliva on her swollen lips. He watched her blouse hang undone, revealing a frilly white bra. The assassin licked the dried blood on his bottom lip. The petite woman swallowed. Carefully, she grasped one of his hands and brought it to her chest, his heat bleeding across her skin. She felt him jump when his palm made contact with her, taking them both by surprise. Her gaze met his. “Have you…ever done this…?†her voice was hesitant as she awaited his answer, feeling a bit silly for asking him such a personal question. He slowly dragged his knuckles up her arm, staring at the gooseflesh that formed at his touch. A deep blush spread across her cheeks as his other hand began to quietly slide the flimsy, polyester blouse off of her shoulders. “…Oi’m jus’…going on instinct ‘ere…†he whispered next to her ear, placing her shirt near the bedside. She felt his hot breath on her earlobe momentarily before he lowered himself in front of her chest. The small woman shuddered, her eyes nervously dodging around the van, trying to find somewhere else to look other than him. The Sniper glanced up at her, his lips inches away from her flat chest bone. “You alroight, darlin’…? His sinfully deep voice sent crackles of electricity up her spine. Miss. Pauling nodded slightly, drawing in a breath to attempt to ease her speeding heart. A faint smile spread across his lips, and she could feel him exhale against her skin. A long, drawn-out silence grew between the two of them before the Australian finally moved. Chewing his lower lip briefly, he ghosted his mouth across her warm, pulsing chest. He lovingly nuzzled his face into her skin, causing her to quickly bite her lip. This was so unusual coming from the assassin. She felt the cold metal of his glasses bump against her flesh as he pressed warm kisses to her chest. His hands generously cupped her lower back, pulling her in closer so he could properly praise her soft skin. Miss. Pauling felt an insatiable heat rise in her core as he explored her chest, his lips teasing the flesh just outside the edge of her bra. She whined silently, his tongue lapping slowly around the valley of her breasts. Each touch of his lips and tongue sent her more and more into a fog, her body falling limp into his arms. She was so lost in his kisses that she did not even feel his fingers fumbling with the snap of her bra. The petite woman lifted her head slightly to meet the hungry gaze of the assassin, his calloused digits tugging at the frilly undergarment. She stared at him for a fraction of a second before reaching behind her back to help him. The tiny ‘snap’ of the clasp coming undone echoed in her head as he slid the bra off of her shoulders. He paused. “…Bloody hell.†A rush of colour filled her cheeks as she watched his eyes drink in the view of her body. Bashfully, she turned away, one of her tiny hands curling near her speeding heart. Her breasts were pert but hardly large, and she was thankful that there was very little light in the bed area. He grabbed her wrist. Their gaze met for a second before he leaned in, Miss. Pauling sucking in a breath as he placed a simple kiss on the underside of her breast. His kisses were firm on her soft skin, sending wave after wave of pleasure up her petite body. She fell limp once more in his grasp, her hands tangling into his messy brunet locks. Her fingers tugged at his hair as he dragged his lips north, teasing the hardened nub with a rough flick of his tongue. She gasped his name. The Sniper groaned between gritted teeth, the hold on his self-control gradually slipping away with every noise the little woman made. He watched her writhe and arch at his touch, her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks dusted a pleasant shade of rose. His tongue remained at the center of her breast, his free hand reaching up to give attention to the other mound. A soft, but lengthy sigh escaped Miss. Pauling’s mouth as she allowed her head to lull back against the wall behind her, the bun in her dark hair slowly coming undone in their escapades. He responded to her sigh with a firm kiss to her stomach, bringing a small smile to her lips. The Australian smirked against her skin. His hands ran up and down her sides, feeling the womanly curves of her hips and the hem of her cotton skirt. Carefully, his fingers found the tiny zipper of the side of the skirt, tugging on slightly to see her reaction. The loud noise startled the little woman for a moment, her eyes fluttering open to look at the Sniper. He could see her stare at him out of the corner of his eyes, but he remained fixated on the little zipper, his finger pads lingering on the cold metal, waiting for her response. Miss. Pauling nervously chewed on the inside of her cheek before sliding her hand to the zipper. The Australian watched carefully, his keen orbs studying the little details in her petite hands. She pulled the zipper down close to her knee, revealing a thin, but daring line of skin all the way up the side of her thigh. She glanced at him. He could now see the sheer, dark stockings she wore underneath. He exhaled, his breath nearly catching in his throat. Now completely flushed, she yanked the long, cotton skirt down to her ankles, bending herself awkwardly to toss the piece of clothing onto the linoleum floor. The dark-haired woman sat back onto the bed, supporting her weight on her hands as she allowed her legs to swing off the side of the bed, the back of her heels kicking the firm mattress. He watched her little toes curl into a point, his eyes trailing up her slender ankle…her softly rounded calf…her socking-clad thigh…the thin, black straps of her garters… The pose was meant to be rather modest, but in what she was currently wearing, it proved to be quite seductive…something the Sniper had not expected from the petite assistant. Shyly, she met the gaze of the assassin, her thick eyelashes batting briefly underneath her cat-eye glasses. Good Lord she was so gorgeous… He placed a hand on her thigh, feeling the texture of the stockings under his fingertips as he dragged his hand up to the hem of her plain underwear. She leaned her back against the wooden wall, her stare remaining downwards as he traced his digits across the firm muscle of her calf. Carefully, he bent over and pressed his lips to her shin, his hand staying cupped at the back of her leg. Miss. Pauling sighed. He kissed all the way up the front of her leg, his lips lingering near the hem of her stockings. She watched with wide eyes as he caught the lacy hem in between his teeth, tugging on the thin material. An insufferable heat filled her core, a deep flush spreading across her face and shoulders. Growing uncharacteristically impatient, she unclasped the garters along with the garter belt and dropped the thin undergarments onto the mattress. He seemed to be feeling the same way, his usually-steady hands shakily moving down to help her remove the tight stockings, a voice in the back of her head telling her that she should have not worn them today. After a frustrating moment or two of fumbling with the hosiery, they finally took their place on the bedside next to her garters. Before he could have a proper chance to stare her down, she yanked on the collar of his shirt, forcing her lower lip out in a painfully cute pout. She was too adorable for her own damn good. He chuckled, quickly getting the hint. “Yor going to be the death of me, darl’…I swear,†the Australian spoke between sniggers as he started to unbutton his shirt. She observed him attentively, watching as the muscles in his forearms relaxed and flexed as he undid the final button. He threw the dirty, red cotton shirt across the bedroom, his hands moving to the bottom hem of his white undershirt. Miss. Pauling felt the corner of her lip curl upwards. She felt like such a schoolgirl. With one, swift tug, the Sniper lifted the undershirt over his head, her eyes gazing at the stretched expanse of muscle. He murmured something to her but she was much too distracted by the firm lines of his abdominals and the short, dark hair around his chest. She noticed the pleasant farmer’s tan on his neck and biceps…the trail of hair at his naval that disappeared into his jeans... Her face went red. With an unbridled grin, she skimmed her finger tips down his stomach, her ginger touch tickling him more than he expected. The little woman explored his torso fervently, finally resting her palms on his waist. She placed a single kiss to the center of his chest, stealing a quiet groan from his mouth. The Sniper decided that he had waited long enough. He began to trail his hands up her legs, tracing the soft skin of her thighs. Without the stockings in the way, he could finally feel the warm, incredibly smooth expanse of skin, his lips pressing to the top of her knee briefly before he began to move his hands. He hardly wasted any time to reach down in between her legs, his rough fingers brushing lightly across her taut inner thigh Miss. Pauling squirmed against the wooden wall as she felt the heat of his digits in between her legs. He stroked her through her undergarments, watching in amusement as she began to instinctively spread her legs apart. She tugged him forward by his biceps, inviting him in to share a long, much-need kiss. A moan from her mouth tickled his lips. The Sniper grinned against her mouth, growing more confident at the sounds coming from the little woman. “Yew loike this…?†The assassin sighed next to her ear, gradually applying more pressure to her. She gasped and reached out to grab his shoulders, but did not answer him. A low purr resonated in the back of his throat as her manicured nails dug into his skin. “…Answer me,†he prodded through gritted teeth, his voice straining over the rasp in his tone. Miss. Pauling squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered, the sound practically being ripped out of her. “Yes…†She barely recognized her own voice. She felt him slide his hand into her underwear. With a choked cry, she held onto him tightly, her nails leaving raised marks across his tanned shoulders. The Sniper answered her cries with a quiet groan, his free hand gliding up to gently cup the back of her neck. Her hips shifted against his hand. “Mundy…†she called breathlessly, her dilated eyes nearly shut. He watched as her back arched against the wall, her hips lifting slightly off the bed as she gripped his wrist. She held onto his wrist for a moment, her petite body trembling as her nails left marks in his arm. Miss. Pauling finally gazed up at the assassin. There were no words needed as he reached up to tug the messy bun loose from her hair. The dark locks tumbled from the purple hairclip and spilled onto her flushed shoulders, the smooth ends just barely touching her breasts. He brushed his weary fingers through her hair, leaning forwards to bury his nose into the crown of her head. As he stroked her locks, he could feel her little fingers at the front of his jeans, undoing the button and sliding the zipper open. He heard her gasp. He smirked. “You don’t wear…?†Her voice was nearly at a squeak. He chuckled, his hands tugging at the hem of her underwear. “…They get in the way.†She almost did not hear him, her mind too distracted by the sensation of her undergarments being pulled to her ankles. She adjusted herself against the wall, observing anxiously as the Sniper removed his pants and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. “Leh’s make yew comfortable now…†he said softly as he took her by the shoulders. Gently, he placed her across his bed on her back, allowing her head to rest against his large pillow. He watched her long, dark hair splay about the tan bed sheets, contrasting beautifully with the white pillow. “Oh…wait,†she whispered quickly. For a second, he feared that she had suddenly changed her mind, but when he watched her remove the glasses from her face, he knew he was wrong. He bit his lip. Without the bun or glasses, she looked so… vulnerable… a word he knew did not properly describe her. Her eyes were so round and he could see the blush in her cheeks spreading across the bridge of her nose. He leaned closer, noticing a tiny dash of pale freckles around the tip of her nose. Supporting his weight on his hands and knees, he hovered over her, pressing a quick kiss to the freckles he had discovered on her nose. Miss. Pauling immediately reached up to him, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt her tremble. Slowly and steadily, the Sniper eased his way into her, her hot breath leaving a moist spot on his shoulder. Her fingernails dug into his neck as he paused, waiting for her to allow him to continue. He turned his head to look at her to find her large eyes wide and wet. It made his heart ache. “Easy now…†he spoke in a hushed tone against her neck, placing a few firm kisses around jaw. He heard her draw in a shaky breath, her nails easing away from his flesh. Sweat was beginning to form across the Australian’s forehead, the sheer act of holding himself back proving to be more physically tolling than he expected. He bit back a growl that threatened to escape his throat and cursed. It all proved to be worth it when he felt her lithe legs wrap tightly around his waist. The Sniper moved a bit more eagerly than he anticipated, his fingers gripping at the thin bed sheets as he hunched over the petite woman. Miss. Pauling clung to him snuggly, her lips finding the shell of his ear. He cursed harshly under his ragged breath. Drops of sweat fell from his nose and chin as he moved harder, his hands groping blindly at her breasts. She moaned, the tight hold she had on her modestly slowing slipping away with each thrust of his hips. The amber shades on his face grew askew in their lovemaking; her tiny fingers reaching up to finally removed the spectacles from his eyes. His eyes were heavy and wild…bluer than she could have ever imagined as he watched her squirm and shiver in delight. His bruised hands thoroughly explored her petite curves…her tiny hands tangled their way into his unruly hair… It was not long before she was crying his name desperately, her manicured nails threatening to draw blood in his rough back. The assassin responded to her cries with low groans and growls, his teeth leaving a copious amount of marks around her pale neck. Her nails broke the skin. He felt her hips slam against his and she buried her face into his neck, her breaths coming out in short gasps. The despondent moan that vibrated against his neck was enough to send him over the edge. He brought a calloused hand to the middle of her back, holding her body against him as he drew in much-needed oxygen. They remained still in each other’s arms for a while…the Sniper marveling at how large his hands were on her body…Miss. Pauling tracing the scarred muscles of his back. It was more than pleasant, and for the first time in a long time, he felt himself relaxing. He had needed this…he had needed her. He carefully lay on his side next to the tiny woman, making sure not to hurt her arm under his weight. Instantly, she curled herself against the assassin, the breath from her nose tickling his chest. He chuckled. “Yor too cute, love,†his voice rumbled deep in his chest, his nose nuzzling against the crown of her head. She whispered something like ‘thank you’, but was lost against the tough skin of his chest. It was not long before she drifted to sleep, her body going heavy against him. The Sniper moved himself closer to the tiny woman, closing his eyes as a wide smile spread across his lips. ----- Not too thrilled with the ending. I feel its a little cliche having a sex fic end with sleep, but I could not think of anything else. I appreciate all comments/feedback. Thank you~
Miss Pauling is buggered for her work now. But all jokes aside, this was really good to read! It was kind of odd how the same amount of time was spent getting Miss Paulings shirt off was longer than the actual sex, but otherwise, it was adorable
Is saging REALLY too much to ask? Don't bump the thread for nothing, please.
It was only 2 days old.
It doesn't matter if it's just 2 days old. It's not respectful towards other authors if their threads are pushed down just because people don't bother saging. So, again, please don't bump the thread if 1. you don't have anything important to say 2. other authors have updated after this. The other authors have worked hard for their updates, it's unfair their threads are immediately pushed down because of this.
>>5 Dude, there's shit on the front page from August. I think the other works'll be fine. Considering hardly anything has updated on this board in quite a while, I don't think a 2-day bump is the worst thing in the world.
Well, before anyone posts a new thread/updates. I would like to apologize for my mistake. This is my first post on this website. I completely forgot about saging, but again, I apologize for this. If someone else posts/update, please do not respond to this thread. Thanks!
>>6 I know better than well there is "shit" from August, even from the last year for crying out loud, and hardly anything has updated for quite a while. Still, during those two days we had two updates that unfortunately were pushed down. It's not the end of the world, all I am asking is a little respect for people who have real updates to offer. There has been discussions about this earlier, too. While it's not the worst thing in the world it's still disrespectful. Accidents happen, you can't always remember sage (I didn't in the beginning, either) but defending it by saying "it was only 2 days old" is just plain rude when within those days we got two updates. Again, I politely ask you to try and remember to sage whenever posting comments that are not real updates.
Seriously guys calm down How much don't you think it sux for the treat owner to only have to return to you two arguing. We get it! #3 you want the person to sage #2 you forgot to sage, and honestly it was just two days old I see no harm done here. Could you guys maybe stop your personal issues and get over the fact that one made a mistake ond the other was far to tricker happy to start a discution? with all this said: Author you need some praising because this story was just so cute, i love all your details in this story and it really made me smile. Good job, i really hope there will be a next chapter
Ah, thank you guys very much for the feedback! I appreciate it! I didn't mean to cause such trouble! I am completely new here, and I really wasn't sure what saging was. I only reply as 'CD.Line'...so these other comments are not me. I apologize for any confusion.
Hello again! I didn’t create a new thread for this…or sage…since it is a part 2 to the first story I wrote. I had a good anon friend request more fluffy SniperPauling, so here it is! (I apologize to them for it being so late!) I promise I will write something different after this. They wanted it to be more ‘sensual’ than my last one, which is understandable. I’m warning…however, that it does get quite sappy towards the end. I must admit, that I really don’t like writing straight-up smut. I just can’t bring myself to do it. It always ends up being more cute than anything. … I don’t know if that’s good or bad. ----- One knock. He did not rise. Two knocks. He lifted his head up from the pillow. A third knock. He tossed off the bed sheets and quickly opened the metal door. He smirked as he eyed the small, dark-haired woman at his doorstep, her lovely face illuminated by the single light hanging above the doorway. The assassin said nothing as he ushered Miss. Pauling into his camper van, one of his large, rough hands ghosting over her backside. She whimpered something under her breath. The trip from the door to his bed was brief but full of teasing caresses and naughty words. The little assistant made herself at home on top of his cramped, but familiar mattress, wasting almost no time to begin unbuttoning her flimsy, overly-modest blouse. In a toying manner, she did not look at him, her eyes focused on a small lantern he had lit near his bedside. She felt the bed creak as she slid the top off and threw it onto the linoleum floor, the Sniper taking his place next to the petite woman. Her fingers worked on the hook of her bra, and she could hear him chuckle above her. “Impatient tonight, aren’t we…?†His voice rumbled playfully as he skimmed his blistered fingertips up her bare arm. Miss. Pauling blushed, but said nothing. He watched the white bra she had been wearing fall onto his tan bed sheets. The ends of his canines flashed as he grinned at her. The Australian observed with agonizing excitement as she removed her skirt and hosiery, his keen eyes drinking in every gorgeous detail from her small curves, to her lovely dark eyes. He was already half-naked, sitting on the bed in just a pair of thin sleep pants. His signature amber shades rested on the nearby nightstand and Miss. Pauling was bashfully aware of the way his blue eyes were taking in her naked form. Once she had finished stripping, she eagerly crawled into his lap, straddling his lean hips as she placed her small hands at his tanned shoulders. She could feel how ready he was through his thin pants, a crooked smile spreading across her plush lips. “How was your day?†She asked softly, her smile growing ever wider as he placed his dry lips under her jaw. The Sniper grumbled in the back of his throat, his kisses becoming more desperate with every touch of his lips. “…Leh’s just skip the pleasantries until afterwards…shall we?†He murmured against her flesh, the scrape of his dark stubble rough on her soft skin. The little assistant exhaled a short laugh as he nipped fondly at her collarbone. “Very well…†she sighed, the slight sense of disappointment she felt shattered when his tongue found the center of her breast. He adamantly teased the hardened nipple in his mouth, his teeth tugging on her skin ever so slightly. Her head slowly lolled back. The vibration of his chuckle sent a shock of pleasure up her spine, her nails instinctively digging into his rough, tanned back. He cupped her round bottom as his free hand wandered north to give the other breast a firm squeeze. The hair on the back of his neck prickled when he heard her moan his name. His real name. The Sniper absolutely loved the way she said his name. Not just in bed, either. Her voice was so soft and smooth, and she fully enunciated every syllable so sweetly, like his name was something so precious to her. He loved it. Miss. Pauling was hardly thinking such innocent thoughts at the moment. They had barely done anything and she already felt as if she were ready to burst. The assassin had been on her mind all day long…his strong, steady hands…his firm lips…his toned body. She stared down at him, the sheen of his saliva on her skin reflecting in the faint light. She shifted her hips desperately against his, hoping to find some way to alleviate the molten heat in between her legs. Her movement did little to give her relief, but elicited a low groan from him as his tongue began to work more fervently on her breasts. Growing increasingly impatient, she rubbed herself against him once again, picking up a steady rhythm as her nails dug further into his flesh. The Sniper growled. “…Yew ain’t playin’ noice tonight, love.†His voice was strained, raspy to the point that she could barely understand him. She watched the veins in his neck swell as she grinded against him for all she was worth, a thin layer of sweat forming across her forehead. Long strands of dark hair fell in her face from her bun, obscuring the sharp glint of lust reflected in her eyes. Their gaze met. He snapped. With the grip he had on her back, he pushed her over onto the mattress and flipped her so that she was lying on her belly. She squealed, but did not fight back. She felt his hot breath on her ear. “…I won’t play noice eitha…†Before she had time to make any sort of movement, he yanked down his sleep pants and grabbed her hips, angling her upwards as he made his way inside her. His large hands stayed gripped at her hips as he hunched over, a long, strangled groan slipping from the Australians’ lips. Miss. Pauling cried out. Her hands tore at the thin sheets, her knees digging into the firm mattress. She had not expected him to take her like this… She looked back at him from over her shoulder, her cat-eye glasses askew on her flushed face. There was something incredibly sexy about taking her with her eyewear on… “Mundy…†she whimpered as he carefully positioned himself on top of her, supporting his weight on his chapped elbows. He exhaled loudly. She could feel the wonderful friction of his torso on her back with every thrust he made, one of his hands moving to cup her just below her breasts. His other hand remained clenched next to her face. She watched muscles in his arm tense and relax at his every move as his teeth found her earlobe. He whispered into her ear, his low, dry voice coupled with his wicked words nearly enough to send her over the edge. She bucked her hips. A loud ‘oh’ vibrated in her throat as he sunk his teeth into the cartilage of her ear. “…Come on,†he rasped, the sweat from his body gathering on her back. She heard him curse. “Come on darlin’…†his voice was desperate, a tone that was quite unusual for the Sniper. He begged for her, the animalistic grunts and growls rising in his throat sending thrills up her spine. The sounds of the creaking mattress harmonized with the slapping of skin. His eyes greedily indulged in the way the faint light illuminated her curves, highlighting every beautiful detail of her petite body. He cursed harshly. The assassin was not usually loud…that was not his way…but she was surprised at the guttural moan that escaped his lips as he lost himself, the hand bracing her ribcage moving to clutch her breast. His action sent her over the edge as well, her sharp nails threatening to tear the thin material of his sheets. She did not even know she could scream like that. His short, shaky breaths echoed inside her ear as he rested on top of her, the extreme heat from his body making her perspire more than usual. She murmured his name sweetly, turning her head to glance at the Sniper on top of her. He managed a weak, but charming smile. She found that after a few minutes of rest, she was ready for more. He was still inside of her, filling her with pleasantly familiar warmth. But she was greedy…wanting more…wanting more of him. With gentle, precise movements, she pulled away from him and rolled over onto her back. He surveyed her actions with a slightly raised brow, his leathery, sweaty hands pushing himself up so he could sit on the bed. He caught a lovely view of her outstretched body, the small, but womanly curves of her torso covered with a thin, tantalizing layer of sweat. Miss. Pauling stared at her lover briefly before reaching up to brace his shoulders, commanding him to lie back with a small push. The assassin felt his lips curl with glee as he obeyed the small woman. He knew very well what that meant. The Australian rested his back against the nearby wall, his cobalt eyes leering up at her. She stared, adoring the way the pale orange light of the nearby lantern caught in his orbs. Being agonizingly slow, she lowered herself onto him, marveling at how perfectly their bodies molded together. The Sniper let out a content sigh. He could not lie to himself…he enjoyed being in charge…but he was certainly not going to complain if she wanted to take the reins. He leaned back and admired the wonderful view he had of her body, watching her small breasts bounce with each slow thrust. A long-held moan escaped her lips. She smiled, the pleasant glow of a rosey blush gracing her cheeks. “This is wonderful,†she sighed as she twisted her hips slightly, appreciating every inch of warmth. The Australian growled in agreement, one of his hands reaching up to lazily tweak her nipple. The little woman cried out softly as she rested her palms on his chest, feeling the dark hair that covered his skin with the tips of her fingers. His free hand grasped her wrist. He groaned her name, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Yer spoilin’ me, love…†he said low in his throat as he watched her hips thrust upwards, musing over how perfectly she fit around him. Sweat dripped off her chin as she briefly adjusted her glasses. She stared at him under her spectacles, a particularly naughty smirk plastered on her lips. “…Did your day go well?†She inquired between breaths, her hands sliding down to touch his firm stomach, trailing up to feel his chest once again. The Sniper arched his hips slightly. He found it amusing when she would try to converse with him during their love-making. “Yeah,†he managed to choke out over the growls in his throat. His eyes met hers. “…Wot about yew?†His voice was strained, nearly lost over the huskiness in his tone. Miss. Pauling’s smile grew wider, and he took note of the little dimples in the corners of her mouth. “It was good,†she paused to gasp quietly, “…I was thinking about you all day.†A long, twisted grin spread across the assassin’s lips. “Were yew now…?†He brought both of his hands up to her torso to give her breasts a soft tug. She moaned unexpectedly loud. “Wot about me?†He prodded further, his calloused digits slowly drawing circles around her hardened nipples. Her hips bucked impatiently and he sniggered, finding her frustration to be quite cute. “…What you do to me,†her voice was barely above a whisper. The Sniper’s stomach clenched as he slowly sat up, positioning the small woman so that she was resting in his lap. His large hands braced her back, his teeth finding a sensitive spot on her shoulder. He hummed lazily in response to her answer over the soft cry that slipped from her mouth. “Tell me wot I do to yew…†His accented voice was at a low hiss now, his teeth and lips leaving a deep, rose-coloured patch near her pale neck. He was well-aware of what he could do to the little assistant. Their late-night sessions had become quite frequent since the start of their relationship. Of course…he was not complaining at all. Miss. Pauling felt her blood go white-hot, sweat trickling down the bridge of her nose. “I love it…when you touch me,†she was interrupted by a low moan; “…Your hands are so rough.†The Sniper barred his teeth. It was not exactly dirty talk, but it was a nice start. “Yeah, yeah…go on,†“I love it when you bite,†her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear her. “…Where?†He asked as he pressed his forehead against hers. A feeling of sheepishness grew in the pit of her stomach, her shyness trying to get the best of her. Another sharp bite to her neck tore the answer he wanted from her. “My shoulders…and especially my hips.†He growled. “Yew loike ridin’ me…darl’?†The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she scratched his shoulders. “Oh yes…†The assassin continued to hiss dirty sentences into her ear, his teeth merciless on her porcelain skin. His eyes drew in the familiar look of pleasure on her pretty face as she lost herself, her thick-lashed eyes squeezing shut underneath her lenses. She called out for him in a soft, wispy voice…her red lips parted and her round cheeks flushed pink... His own release snuck up on him, taking him by surprise as he watched her arch against him with a lecherous smile. She whispered something particularly naughty under her breath. He smirked weakly. The Sniper fell back onto the pillows, still holding the petite woman against his chest. Miss. Pauling burst into a fit of short giggles as he lazily kissed across her warm face, hardly caring how disheveled her hair looked or how sweaty she was. Their lips mingled together sweetly, drawing more giggles from the petite assistant. He felt her pull away from him once she had completely exhausted herself, resting her head against his firm chest. She went silent. Normally, the assistant was quite conversational afterwards, but tonight, she laid on him with her cheek pressed against his chest, her breathing the only sound he could hear from her. “Yew alroight, love?†She did not answer right away, and he began to fear that perhaps he had been a little too rough with her, his eyes drawing in the harsh marks he had left on her torso. The Sniper brought his fingertips to a few strands of wispy locks that had fallen in her eyes. “Did I hurt yew…?†He felt her shake her head somewhat against his chest. With the lack of words, he was not very convinced, but he brushed the hair out of her face anyways and relaxed against the soft pillows of his bed. After a few moments, she opened her mouth to speak. His stomach tightened with anticipation. “Um…†…was all she said. With that long of a pause, he had expected her to say something more articulate. Part of him wanted to prod further, but he felt much too lazy, and another part of him feared her answer. Instead, he draped a sinewy arm across her damp back in a feeble attempt to give her some comfort. “Get some sleep love,†he told her quietly, a short yawn nearly interrupting his sentence. He felt her curl her fists near his ribcage. A long drag of oxygen whistled through her teeth. <i>“I love you.â€</i> Everything went dead silent. Miss. Pauling kept her face in his chest, not caring that her glasses were getting foggy. She waited. She exhaled long and low. He cringed. “…I’m sorry.†Her tone made his skin crawl. The Sniper placed a slightly awkward kiss to the crown of her head, the faint scent of her flowery shampoo filling his nose. “S’alroight…†he whispered stiffly into her hair, trying so hard not to sound nervous…or stupid…both of which he knew he sounded like anyways. She nodded, but remained silent. He was such a moron. He struggled for a moment, the words unable to form correctly in his brain, the sound of her soft sniffle taking him off guard. Goodness, if he had just made her cry he would not know what to do. He paused for a second to see if he felt any tears on his skin, but to his somewhat relief, he did not. The Sniper knew he was not very good at comforting…or words…or affection for that matter. For what it was worth, he did not even know how he had managed to keep her around for as long as he had. Her thick lashes covered her dark eyes as she pulled her face away from his chest to speak. “Goodnight, Mundy.†She finally relaxed against his form with a long sigh, her palm pressing against his still-racing heartbeat. Moments passed. <i>“…I love yew too.â€</i> She smiled. ----- Thanks for reading! I know the ending gets a little wonky…maybe a little out of place. In my personal interpretation (or at least in this story) I have a hard time portraying the Sniper as a man who would accept random flings without any commitment. I know he’s an assassin, but he seems like a good, old-fashioned type guy who doesn’t have many relationships in his life…but when he does, their long-lasting and healthy. Plus, he’s more of a loner type, so he’s probably pretty wary of untrustworthy people. Ah, anyways, sorry about the ramble! Thank you very much again for reading! :)