#worm murphy

kind of a study idk!! still trying to figure out my artstyle and learn how to draw pitt n norton 💔 anyways i love rustyworm sm

i just watched rounders last weekend and my camera roll is full of worm, so i feel you.

here you are!

off to the races

the bar is crowded, the musky scent of too many men crowded into booths overpowering my senses. if you asked me why i was here, i wouldn’t be able to give you a reason. i just felt a certain hunger, an impulse to go to a seedy bar and observe. where i’m from, the bars are clean, the men still dressed in their work attire. the bartenders cut you off after a certain number of drinks, the doors close at a reasonable hour. here i could be on the verge of blacking out and the tap would still flow.

i sit up at the counter and pull out my notebook. observing can make for great material, and i’m at an impasse with my latest assignment. i look around and take stock of all the various characters. most of the men here all have the same resignation, written in scarlet ink across their faces. i seem to have missed some form of action, because there’s broken glass on the ground and half of the staff seems to be gone.

i don’t know if i’m sad i missed it or relieved. drunken chaos can be intoxicating when it’s contained, but it has a habit of spiraling out of control and leaving you bruised and bloody.

suddenly, the back door swings open. i hear loud voices, banter and laughter filling the formerly silent bar.

and then he sits down.

“the usual please ron,” he says as he slaps down a wad of dollar bills onto the counter.

the bartender nods and turns the tap.

he’s a whirlwind of motion, gesturing wildly with his hands as he talks to what seems like every person in his general vicinity, regardless of whether they’re actually responding. everyone that is, except me.

i keep sneaking glances at him, trying to hide my fascination. he’s lean, his body hidden in a red button up shirt and a worn leather jacket. a silver chain peeks out from beneath the fabric and a matching ring flashes as he moves his hands. he has a technicolor quality to him, like he’d be more at home in the underworld of a mafia film than an office cubicle.

“you know it’s rude to stare.” he says.

i nearly jump.

“i’m-i’m sorry,” i stammer.

he chuckles and takes a sip of his beer.

“i’m only joking sweetheart. i think it’s flattering.”

trying to regain my composure, i close my notebook and push it back into my bag.

“why would you come here with that?” he asks.

“i like observing. it gives me material.” i answer, still a little flustered.

“oh, so you’re a writer. i was wondering what a girl like you was doing in a place like this.” he says.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” i ask.

“let’s just put it this way, nice girls don’t come to these types of bars unless they’re looking for something.” he explains as he downs another swig.

i nod slowly.

“you want anything?” he asks, gesturing towards the bartender.

“oh, ice water please,” i say as the bartender nods.

“what makes you think i’m a nice girl?” i ask, saying a quiet thank you to the barkeep as he brings me the water.

“who else would order an iced water when a guy’s offering to pay for their drink?” he counters.

i laugh a little, and he smiles.

“you know, i don’t think you’re just here for material.” he says.

i roll my eyes.

“oh really? then what am i looking for?” i ask.

“you’re looking for something exciting. someone to make your life less boring. an experience you can remember for when your life starts to drag.” he drawls.

“oh am i?” i respond.

“yeah. you’re really lucky i happened to be here tonight.” he says and i laugh.

“what type of experience can YOU give me?” i ask sarcastically.

he leans into me, his hand brushing over mine.

“meet me in the bathroom and i’ll show you.” he whispers.

my eyes widen as he pulls back, a smirk plastered on his face.

he gets up and walks down towards the bathroom as i sit there, trying to collect my thoughts. he winks at me as he closes the door.

he’s so cocky it’s almost infuriating.

i should leave him waiting in there and go home.

i look from the bathroom door to the exit.

*************************************************

“i was starting to think you weren’t gonna show up,” he says as i walk in.

“shut u-“ i start to say before he’s on me.

his hands are everywhere, and his mouth is on mine, kissing me so hard i forget how to breathe. he’s backing me up, pushing me till my back is against the sink, his mouth never leaving mine. when he finally pulls back, it’s only so he can start sucking on my neck, his teeth occasionally brushing against my bare skin. 
i let out a moan and he shushes me.

“you have to be quiet, otherwise they’ll kick us both out,” he mutters.

his hands roam my body, squeezing my ass, rubbing circles on my thighs, groping my breasts as he kisses from my neck down to my chest. he pulls the straps of my dress down so he can expose my chest, and his eyes get darker when he sees i’m not wearing a bra.

“no bra? oh you WERE looking for action tonight.” he chuckles.

“fuck you,” i huff before he takes my nipple in his mouth.

i take a shaky breath as he swirls his tongue, his teeth running over the sensitive bud and it takes everything in me not to let out the most sinful moan when he looks up at me.

when he finally detaches, i feel his fingers start rubbing me through my underwear.

“you want me to touch you?” he sneers.

i nod desperately as he picks up his speed.

“you gotta use your words darling.” he continues and i nearly scream at him when i see the shit eating grin plastered across his face.

“yes please.” i say through gritted teeth.

he pushes the thin fabric to the side and slides a finger inside me.

“i knew you were a good girl.” he says as he starts lazily pumping his finger, occasionally curling it so my eyes roll back.

when he adds a second finger, i moan and he stops moving, causing me to whine.

“you have to be quiet or i’m gonna stop. can you be quiet for me?” he asks, his free hand gripping my chin.

i nod manically before remembering.

“yes sir.”

he smiles and resumes, his thumb methodically brushing over my clit and causing me to bite my lip.

i can feel myself getting closer, to the point where i can practically taste it, when suddenly he pulls his fingers out.

i whine and look at him, ready to start a fight when i notice he’s undoing his belt.

“i wanna feel it when you cum.” he says by way of explanation.

he pops me up on the sink counter, and lines himself up with me. i wrap my legs around his waist and then he sinks into me.

i train my eyes on the ceiling, letting out stuttering breaths as i adjust to him. he starts moving, setting a moderate pace as the burn gives way to this sinfully good stretching feeling. as he speeds up i start biting my lip so hard it’s a miracle i don’t start bleeding, as one particular thrust brushes a spot that makes me cry out. when he looks up at me, i start worrying he’s gonna stop, but he slaps his hand over my mouth.

“cant even keep your filthy mouth shut, i have to do it for you,” he pants.

i moan against his hot palm as he fucks into me harder, my thighs squeezing him tightly.

he reaches between our bodies to start harshly rubbing my clit, and i feel my body start to tremble.

“do you wanna cum?” he sneers.

i nod pathetically, moaning into his palm.

“well come on baby.”

i feel my cunt start spasming around him, and i practically see stars. he’s still fucking into me, the pleasure veering towards overstimulation as he slams into me. i cry out into his hand as he pulls out and cums all over my thighs.

as he catches his breath, he removes his hand from my mouth and i cling to him, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

“jesus, you’re shaking.” he mumbles as he strokes my hair, letting me hold onto him until the trembling dies down.

finally, i pull away from him and look into his eyes.