#i should stop letting my friends talk me into writing absolute filth... but it's quite fun so i don't think i will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

masonscig · 2 years

Text

baby, you’re my kind.

pairing | sofía x faustus (aka softus)

word count | ~5.2k

warnings | smut (the one entitled “heat wave” is pure filth sorry!)

a/n | so i wrote this as a part of a friend gift exchange for the lovely @veeples! i absolutely loved writing faustus. he’s everything to me (and sofía) – you’re an amazing friend and so creative and supportive and i love you sm ♡ in this verse, faustus and sofía meet in college, start a little friends-but-more-but-not-really moment, faustus lands a record deal (and subsequently drops out) – this is the summer before he leaves (and they lose touch but we won’t talk about that pain yet)! vee, i’ve loved crafting this little universe with you – i’m so happy to know you mwah ♡ posting this and running away bc it’s been so long since i’ve posted writing here (also this fic title is based on the song baby you’re my kind by blossom dearie! i’ll drop the softus playlist at some point)

•─────────────────•

summer, at last.

Sweat slides down the back of her neck, pinning the dark hairs that don’t quite fit in her ponytail to her slick skin.

There’s no reason she should be taking her online bio final in the basement of the library. The room’s hardly bigger than a shoebox with slim windows barely wide enough for the sun – or a breeze for that matter – to stream through.

It’s sweltering in the tiny computer lab. The air conditioning’s gone out, but it’s her last final of the week. She’ll be damned if she’s rescheduling it.

So she toughs it out, abandoning her glasses when the lenses fog, trying desperately to concentrate on anything but the heat.

When Sofía emerges from the library – heart racing, cheeks flushed – she grins triumphantly when she finds him outside, half burnt cigarette hanging from his lips.

“So?” Faustus asks, stubbing the butt out on the brick wall, ash staining the faded red-clay.

She can barely contain her excitement. “I got a B –” He grunts in annoyance. “Ah, fuck, Sofe, I know you were gunning for an A –”

“– But it didn’t bring my grade down.”

Faustus mirrors her bright expression, and pulls her close, sweeping her sweaty bangs off her forehead.

“Proud of you, owlet.”

He cradles Sofía’s face in his hands and kisses her deeply, the tang of nicotine and bitter coffee refusing to mesh, repelling each other like two south sides of a magnet – but neither of them care.

She didn’t make an A on her final. Finished the semester with a 50/50 chance of ending with the grade she worked hard for. And yet, absolutely none of that matters to her.

“Let’s go rinse you off back at my place,” he murmurs against her ear.

Three months of possibility lay flat in front of her with Faustus.

She’s never liked summer, but maybe it’ll grow on her this time around.

pieces of you.

After a day full of band practice, Faustus promises to take Sofía out.

“There’s a fair in town. ‘S’like a twenty minute drive if you’re up for it,” Faustus suggests after peppering her face with kisses.

“Ooh, that sounds fun. Should I go back and grab my lunch box in case we want to bring some drinks or snacks –”

He cuts her off with a rumbling laugh. “Always so prepared. Nope, spontaneity is spontaneity. No planning allowed.”

“No planning? That’s a bit cruel.” Sofía tries not to pout, but the idea of forgetting something at home makes her skin itch.

He shifts the guitar case’s strap on his shoulder. “C’mon granny. I’ll get you a candy apple, if your old lady teeth can handle it.”

“Stop,” she lightly smacks his arm with an open hand, letting her palm linger on his bare skin. “I can’t help that I’m scared of getting cavities.”

“You’re shit outta luck, then, cuz I’m so sweet,” Faustus sticks his tongue out, and she crinkles her nose at that.

“That was horrible.”

“Like you could’ve done any better,” he laughs, a noise that offers boundless comfort.

“Yeah, that was awful,” he grimaces, then crosses a painted nail across his chest. “Promise I won’t do that again.”

Slinging his free arm around Sofía’s shoulders, Faustus leads them out towards the parking lot to her beat up pickup truck.

The paint job is faded and every exposed part is rust-covered. The windows stick in the summer. The gas gauge lies and strands her on roadsides biannually.

It’s ugly and loud and devoid of personality. He disagrees. And every time she shits on Feo the truck, he offers to take it off her hands.

The whole thing squeaks when they slide in, the fuzzy purple dice he gifted her swinging from the rearview. Dried sunflowers and broken petals litter the dashboard. There’s an old event flier that Faustus himself stuck to the dash with a piece of chewed gum he snagged from her purse. Splotchy stains cover the carpet at his feet from the time he spilled her morning coffee, the dark brown spatter tinting the carpet no matter how hard they’ve scrubbed. A sandwich baggie full of coupons for their favorite fast food places is stuffed in the glove compartment.

This stupid little truck has never felt like her own till Faustus crammed himself in the passenger’s seat.

cotton candy kisses.

Foz’s lips and tongue are stained blue from sugar, and he tastes just as sweet.

They’ve looped the ferris wheel twice already, and come screeching to a halt near the top. Sofía’s always been a bit jittery when it comes to heights, so Faustus distracts her by doing what he’s best at. Kissing her.

God, he’s so good at this.

His fingers, licked clean of the sugar (but still stained), dig into the flesh at her soft hips, the other hand ghosting around her hair. At any point, he could wrap his thumb and pointer around the thick ponytail and tug till she’s moaning into his mouth. She likes the anticipation.

She’s thoroughly drunk on him by the time they’re in motion again, stuttering around the loop to the back exit.

“Oh, wow.”

“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Faustus’s grin verges on a smirk. He hops off and pokes an elbow out, bumping her with his hip when she rests a hand on his forearm.

“It wasn’t so bad,” she repeats. Her palms aren’t clammy. She’s not shaking. It actually worked.

“That’s my gusanita.”

My.

If dating were a deck of cards, Sofía’s hand is awful. So terrible, in fact, that she’d folded long ago. The deck was chock full of failed relationships, a string of partners that didn’t amount to much more than a bullet point on her long list of “avoids”.

Belonging to anyone had never been in the cards for her. She’s spent a long time searching for someone who gets her on any level, platonically or more. Someone that she means anything to.

It’s hard to put into words why Faustus is so good for her.

Maybe it’s this.

He’s the kind of person to hold her hand before they leap into the deep end all to reassure her that it’ll be okay. There’s something about Foz that she’s both attracted to and jealous of: his lack of fear.

She’s gone through life terrified to step out of line even once, and he’s proven that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Facing her fears is nothing but an item on her bucket list now.

In less than a year, Faustus has made her feel more comfortable in her own skin than she ever has. And similarly, he himself has become more like home than anywhere else she’s been before.

pink, purple, blue.

It started with Foz’s offhanded suggestion, and ended with two duffel bags flung unceremoniously into his trunk.

A five hour drive and an uncomfortable sleep on the couch later, Sofía and Faustus are in the tiny half bathroom, the sink littered with makeup.

She’s working on combing gel through her brows, the seat of her shorts grazing his thighs. He towers over her, applying a thin black line on his lid before smudging it with a rough rub of his finger.

“Looks nice,” she compliments him, craning her neck back to get a good look.

He glances down with a grin, wraps an arm around her middle and pulls her back to his exposed stomach.

“Gets easier every time,” he brags, snapping the cap back on the liner. “What’s the gay version of ‘nothin’ but net’?”

He asks jokingly, but she answers anyway.

Sofía shrugs and leans forward over the countertop, running the mascara brush through her lashes with a concentrated hand.

A beat later, she suggests a phrase in an innocent tone. “Um… Slayed?”

Laughter erupts, ricocheting off the bathroom tile. It’s hard to stand upright – he leans forward into her, pressing his weight on her back, gripping his arm tighter around her waist.

“What? Am I way off?” She grunts from underneath him.

“That brain of yours, Sofe – I need five minutes in there,” he murmurs into her cheek, pressing a kiss there.

“I can almost hear the sapiosexual jokes you’re about to tell,” she tilts her head into the kiss, face heated from the attention.

“Call me a sapiosexual, ‘cause I love when a hot girl gives me brain. Dome. Something like that.”

The next few minutes are spent roasting each other for jokes that don’t land, not a moment passing without either of them giggling at or teasing the other

They wrap up, and Faustus changes, slipping on his fishnets with considerable effort despite how customary they are to his wardrobe. It’s too hot for drag, but it’s perfect slut weather.

They have to leave in ten if they want to get a good spot.

“You ready, owlet?”

There’s no response.

He checks the bathroom, where he finds her attempting to tie her hair up, mind a million miles away.

“Hey, you good?”

She starts to nod, then stops herself.

“I’m a bit nervous, I admit.”

“So am I.”

“You are?”

“Nope.” He winks, expecting to pull a smile from her.

Instead, she deflates. “I don’t think I fit into these kinds of things. It feels like I’m imposing, you know?”

His brows pull inward. “That’s kinda the point.”

When she doesn’t say anything else, laces his fingers through hers and tugs her towards the couch.

“C’mere.”

She curls onto his lap, tucking her head into his neck – comfortably slotting into his embrace.

“People that don’t fit in come to these things to find people like themselves,” Faustus shrugs. “I’m sure thousands of people are in the same boat as you right about now.”

She hums, and toys with one of his necklaces.

“Don’t feel like you’re not welcome because you’re recently labeled. No one cares about that shit, I promise.”

Gripping her chin, he tugs her face closer till they’re eye to eye. Hazel and brown – sweet honey and bitter espresso.

“If you’re not up for it, we can find something else to do today. Just say the word.”

She rolls her glossy lips together before nodding resolutely. “As long as you don’t leave my side.”

He kisses her gently – sweeter than he ever has before. “I’ll stick to you like glue, gusanita.”

The parade is packed, thousands marching in the parade or seated on the intricate floats. More line the streets, everyone from elders to young children – all adorned in rainbows and adjacent flags.

There’s an electric buzz in the air that’s something a level above bliss. Faustus senses it, and he knows Sofía can sense it, too.

They’ve snagged a spot near a small cafe, standing on the edge of the sidewalk, a few feet away from the passing cars, floats, groups of people on foot –

And they’re both grinning. Bathed in sunlight and showered in pride.

For Faustus, June in NYC will never, ever get old, but with Sofía, it’s different – totally anew.

heat wave.

Faustus is a few days late to pay his power bill and they’re suffering for it.

“Goddammit, are they serious? Could they not cut us some slack? It’s ninety-five fucking degrees outside,” he grumbles, tossing his cell a little too hard onto the couch cushion.

“What’s the verdict?” She asks, offering him a damp washcloth. “For your neck. Here –”

Gently, she tugs him down to the sofa, and wipes the sweat from his brow. Gorgeous brown irises flicker down to her lips as he speaks.

“They said it would be a while till it’s back on. I paid the late fee and everything like they fucking told me to,” Foz groans, rubbing the rag on his forehead, his neck.

His hand overlaps onto her own – she has to make a conscious effort not to look at his pretty mouth.

“You did what you could.”

“My leftovers are gonna spoil,” he complains. “I really wanted that burrito bowl.”

The fridge was the first casualty. Most of the ice is melted, frozen food thawed till it’s just about mush in the packages. She managed to scoop the surviving ice into her cooler, but even then, it’s not nearly enough to quell the heat. They’ve both been munching on the last cubes in their iced coffees.

“D’you wanna take Feo for a drive? That might help,” she offers, refolds the washcloth and rubs the front of his neck this time.

Droplets pool at the hollow of his throat, right above the jagged split in the neckline of the shirt he’d cropped himself.

Faustus watches her still, gaze heavy – it pins her in her place. He’s giving her that look reserved only for when he wants to taste her.

“We’ve got plenty of time to kill. There’s no rush,” Faustus says, and closes the gap with a sultry, open mouthed kiss, gripping her chin with his thumb and finger.

She tastes like mint chocolate – sweet mocha and altoids – and feels even better than that. She curls her arms around his damp neck, sighing when his slot around her waist and hips.

She’s wearing nothing but an old tank top and boxers, the two most breathable pieces she owns, and she’s still drenched in sweat.

This isn’t helping, but neither of them are making a move to pull away.

“I wanna try something with the last bit of ice. You okay with that?” He asks between slow kisses down her neck.

“Yes,” she nods, breath catching when he slips his slender fingers underneath the hem of her shirt.

And before she knows it, she’s bare and on her back, Faustus’s shirt abandoned alongside her own clothes in a pile next to the coffee table.

He grabs his coffee and pops the plastic top off, shaking a few ice nuggets into his mouth. Chews, and swallows, all the while savoring the feeling of having her hang onto his every movement.

Shaking another piece of ice into his mouth, he finally bends down, starting with her chest, running his chilled lips across her collarbone. She stutters underneath him, raking her hands through his hair, a wordless guide of how good he’s doing.

Faustus spends so long at her tits that the ice melts between his lips, so he goes for the cup again.

“Y’know, we have a lot more ice that hasn’t been sitting in coffee,” she pants, stomach rising and falling. “It’d save you loads of time.”

“So impatient… What’s going on in that mind of yours, owlet?” He teases, spitting a cube onto her navel. She jolts, hazel gaze practically burning straight through him.

She’s so pretty.

“Anticipation. Excitement. Lots of good things, I promise,” she says, watching him intently, trying to deduce what he’s going to do next.

He repeats the same action as before, trapping the ice between his lips, dragging them agonizingly slow down her middle – down, down till he meets the tanline of her bikini bottom –

And he stops. Stops and sucks the cube back into his mouth and crunches it into shards, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

“You’ve gotten me all worked up and now I’m even sweatier than before,” she mutters, throwing her head back over the arm of the couch.

“Hot, but continue. Tell me how awful I am,” he teases, hands brushing her lush thighs with gentle strokes.

“You’re not evil, but you sure know how to emulate it,” she tilts her head back up, brows furrowed. “I know what you’re trying to do, Foz, and it’s not working. I’m too irritated to fall for it.”

She’s right. It’s fucking miserable in this little apartment, but that won’t stop him from delaying the inevitable a bit longer.

“Here I am, thinking my Sofe is still up to beg for it,” he practically purrs.

Swallowing, she shakes her head.

“What if I say please?”

Sofía rolls her lips together and hesitates.

He slides back up to give her a breathtaking kiss before inching back down, palms curving down her slick skin, coming to rest at the crease where her thighs meet her hips – she spreads for him, raising her chin in a slight nod of consent.

“Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, kissing the neatly trimmed hair above her lips.

Foz shoots her a quick wink and a knowing smile – then runs his chilled tongue up her folds. She jumps when the cool metal of his tongue ring hits her clit, but instantly relaxes when he works her in precise circles.

As far as pussy-eating goes, Faustus is an unrivaled expert with his mouth. It’s a language he’s fluent in, a place where he knows he’ll outshine any competition.

If he’s an expert, she’s barely a novice. Shyness punctuates every request, trembling hands struggle to take charge. She’s figuring out what she likes most, and as of right now the undefeated champ is his tongue – next to his fingers, and his filthy fucking mouth.

Every person is different; each person has their preferred modes. And Sofe’s is a bit slow for his liking, but he’d do anything for her if it meant he could hear her whisper his name when she came like that. She says it like she’s indebted to him, like she’s promising to pay him back for making her feel this good.

The room’s frustratingly sticky. Sweat rolls down his own temples; a glossy sheen paints her warm brown skin, her plump curves damp underneath his palms.

“Faustus –” She juts against his face. “Like that, please –”

If it weren’t so damn hot, he’d tease the climax out of her, elongating it for as long as he could. But it is hot, so he keeps doing what he’s doing.

“Oh my god – yes – ” Sofía breathes, thighs squeezing his face. She’s close.

He curls a finger with his tongue, working in tandem to push her over the edge. It’s something like magic when she’s set alight, a writhing mess of open-mouthed whines and grinding hips.

Watching her come feels like a privilege – at times, he feels lucky he gets to see something as pretty as her be so vulnerable.

Tangling her fingers in his messy hair, she yanks, and he hums contentedly into her cunt. She lets out a string of expletives and stutters her hips, pulling on his hair until his scalp stings –

“Shit,” She sighs, brushing a forearm against her slick forehead.

He grins against her, kisses her sensitive bud and laughs when she twitches at the contact.

“Your turn,” She says, tugging his face up to meet her lips.

She kisses with youthful fervor, like she’s got something to prove to him. It’s very cute. It’s something about her he hopes will never change.

In a quick maneuver, he’s flat on his back with an eager Sofía between his legs. She’s curled over the arm of the sofa, ass raised in the most mouthwatering position – God, all he wants to do is slip his harness strap on and fuck her senseless –

He’s pulled from the daydream as she unbuttons his shorts and digs her fingers into the waistline, shimmying them down his hips.

“You’re so pretty Foz,” she whispers, batting her doe eyes up at him.

She swipes a thumb across his clit, her other hand clutching his thigh to pry his legs open farther.

He sucks in a sharp breath when she wraps her mouth around his cock, swiping her tongue around his sensitive head.

“Fuck, you’re good at that aren’t you?” He groans, slipping the crook of his hand around her ponytail, guiding her tongue where he wants her.

Sofía had never eaten pussy till she met Faustus, and boy, does she make up for her lack of experience with the willingness to learn.

“Just like that, love, use your fucking tongue to fuck me – yeah, perfect,” he purrs, head lolling back when she picks up speed.

Her tongue pushes into him, and out, and up towards his clit, a dizzying pattern that he’s not keen on stopping.

“Such a pretty girl – face all slick ‘cause of me – sucking my cock so good –” he practically chants, anchoring himself with an arm so he can fuck into her mouth better.

With every movement, her backside jiggles and it’s so tantalizing he has to touch her. Thankfully, his gangly arms are long enough to smack and grab a fist full of one cheek before leaning back to let her fully devour him.

Perspiration dribbles down his temples, any loose strands clinging to whatever wet patch of skin it touches. The air is thick with a muggy heat; the couch is hot against his back, the smell of sweat and sex sticking to the old fabric.

He’s so close, all slack jawed groans and raspy praises.

“I’m getting so close to nutting, Sofe. You’re doing so fucking good –”

The pressure of a finger cuts him off, sliding gently into him, curling inwards till words are hard to find, replaced with throaty noises that border on whines.

“Shit, shit, shit –”

With a few more laps and sucks of her mouth, his thighs are trembling around her face. “Jesus Fucking Christ.”

She smiles hopefully, wiping her chin off with the heel of her palm. “I’m getting better, aren’t I?”

“I’ll say,” Faustus laughs, exhaling deeply. “Where’d you learn that?”

“From the best,” she winks and closes the gap with a kiss.

It’s a million degrees, but still, she slides right underneath his arm, cuddling close.

“That did nothing to cool us down,” she says, cheeks tinted a slight rosy shade.

He shrugs. “We’ve always got the shower.”

flash tats.

The needle dips back into Sofía’s skin, and she clutches Faustus’s hand harder.

Somehow, some way, he’s convinced her to get her first tattoo – and at a Friday the thirteenth flash tattoo sale at that.

It stings, and her eyes water, but she’s grounded at least – Foz strokes his thumb across her skin gingerly, ever so often stopping to murmur a word of encouragement.

“You’re doing great, love.”

The artist is being as gentle as she can be, but it still hurts like a bitch.

“Gonna go over the lettering one more time and we’ll be good.”

Sofía shoots her a thumbs up with a smile, her jaw tense.

She focuses on Faustus’s neck, tries to count the number of bleeding lines on the fresh webbed tattoo wrapped tight with plastic.

“Done.”

The artist leaves for a sec to grab an aftercare pamphlet – she hasn’t done that in a while, and only did so because Sofía insisted – and she sighs, finally relaxing. Foz makes no move to let go of her hand.

“How do you do it?” She asks, propping her head up with a fist under her jaw.

“It hurt, but it’s a sexy tattoo, so,” he says, drawing out the last word. “I dunno. It gets easier, owlet.”

“I love that you assume I’ll do this again,” she teases with a smile.

“C’mon, you’re my flash tat partner now. It’s our thing.”

“You’re insane,” she laughs, and glances over her shoulder towards her pants, still askew. “Does it look alright?”

He stands and towers over the chair, palming her clothed cheek. “It’s perfect. It’s a beacon for my mouth, Sofe.”

Her cheeks heat. He snaps a quick pic and bends down to show her, his face inches from her own.

“Bite me” in big bold letters sits inside of a pink candy heart on the cusp of her hip and right ass cheek, fangs bordering the words.

It’s nothing like her to get a tattoo in the first place, much less in a lewd place only Foz will see.

But maybe this is her. Since meeting Faustus, she’s coming out of her shell, pushing herself to do the things she’s terrified of. Change used to be her biggest enemy, and now it’s something she embraces, even enjoys.

It’s scary – and it’s nice.

“Maybe next time I’ll get one on my other cheek to match,” she says, wiggling her hips.

“I absolutely endorse that idea,” he winks, and presses his lips to hers.

breathe in, breathe out.

Sofía’s never done this before.

Faustus pinches the blunt between his lips, flicking the old lighter a couple times to get a steady stream. He cups his hand around the end to block the slow-moving wind, tossing the lighter after it burns.

He inhales through taut lips, exhales through flared nostrils. He makes it out unscathed, only a few tiny coughs rumbling through his chest.

“Can always count on Cherry for good shit.”

Sofía nods, arms wrapped tight around her knees. It’s a stark contrast to Foz’s sprawled form, lazily draped across the roof tiles.

The smell is strong, the smoke is thick, and the moon is high.

The calm is nice, considering the atmosphere they were just submerged in. They skipped out early, bailing on the party Cherry slapped together.

It’s finally cool outside, a soft breeze licking delicately at their exposed skin. She rubs away the goosebumps and steals a glance at him.

He’s reclined, head cushioned by folded arms, staring up at the stars. The blunt hangs from his lips, tucked in the corner as he speaks.

“Y’know, that one up there – cock-shaped, don’t you think?”

She laughs, completely caught off guard. “Sure.”

“That’s Phallos,” he says matter-of-factly, gesturing to the Little Dipper. “A little floppy shaft with a nutsack to match.”

“Definitely.”

“It’s a memoriam for the poor guy. Had his shit blown off in the cosmic war. Sad stuff,” Foz murmurs somberly, two-finger-saluting the sky. “This one’s for you, dude.”

He puffs in and out till the ash crumbles off onto his old ribbed tank, burning holes in the fabric. “Fuck – I was trying to do a twenty-one puff salute.”

It’s hard to hold back her laughter after that. A snort erupts from her before he has time to crack another joke.

“What, you don’t believe me?” He chuckles and rolls over towards her, hand propping up his face.

“You’re a pretty good liar, but not that good.”

After that, she’s ready to smoke. He coaches her through inhaling and exhaling, teasing when she inevitably hacks up a lung.

Her eyes water and her chest burns, but after a few small hits, her limbs are jelly – she could care less about how sore her throat is from coughing because she feels incredible.

She eases onto her back and watches the slow-moving but purposeful stars; they shift around like an informational projection on a planetarium ceiling – the planetarium she used to frequent as a kid.

“How you feelin’?”

Sofía blinks slowly, hyper aware of the muscles in her eyelids and how they slide open and closed over her eyeballs. It feels like a minute has passed before she speaks.

“Mmm.” Not exactly a proper response, but it gets the point across just as well.

His wheeze-cough-laughs sound far away. Too far away.

She flops her head over towards him and reaches for his hand, curling her short fingers around his slender ones, rubbing a gentle thumb over his knuckles.

Is she really a few hours away from losing this?

As soon as these stars fade and the sun peeks over the horizon, Faustus will be on a plane to Los Angeles with the rest of his bandmates, and she’ll be here. Left behind.

The moment he lugs his suitcase through the airport entrance, this town won’t be the same. Her throat burns. Maybe it’s the weed? Maybe she’s sad. Either way, she can’t gulp away the sting.

“What’s on your mind?”

His gaze is soft around the edges, flickering up and down her face.

“Nothing.”

She shakes her head with a great deal of effort. It’s like her skull is glued to the roof of this house. Her brain is loose, sloshing around like a ping pong ball in a cup of beer.

“Eh, there’s something you’re not tellin’ me.”

“How do you know?” Four measly syllables takes nearly the rest of her effort.

“You’re crying.”

“What?” That’s news to her.

He chuckles. Swipes a thumb over her cheek with a featherlight touch.

He’s being so gentle – does he think she’s breakable?

“You’re really fucking high aren’t you?” He kisses her forehead and stays close.

This is pretty new, whatever this is. He’s never treated her like she’s fragile before, but with the way he’s looking at her, she can’t find it in herself to be upset over it.

In fact, the looming fear of his absence forces an admission out of her.

“I’m gonna miss this,” she blurts, barely a second of hesitation before she fully commits. “And you.”

That clearly caught him off guard, what with his shadow adorned lids widening, coughs rumbling up his chest as he exhales.

“You’re getting real sentimental, Sofe,” he rasps, grinning widely.

“Do you… want me to stop?”

“Not really.”

As much as she’s romanticized her time with Faustus, at the end of the day, Sofía is just a blip on his radar that spans farther and wider than hers ever will – way past the twenty-five mile radius of this suburban college town.

One of her biggest regrets was tearing into him for dropping out the moment he was handed a record deal.

It’s an out, and instead of offering encouragement, she tried to clip his fucking wings.

“The last few summers here have been so miserable,” she says slowly. The weed is still fogging up her brain – every word requires concentration.

“I’ve, uh, never liked summer, to be honest. I find reasons to stay here instead of going back home, and I hole myself up and try to get a couple extra courses in…” she trails off, sighing. “I count down the days till fall semester starts so I can feel like myself again. It wasn’t like that this time, though.”

He nods.

“I’m just scared I’ll never have a summer like this again, you know?” She shrugs, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks. “I think I’ll be nostalgic about this summer when I’m forty.”

For a moment, something like regret flashes across his face. Maybe not regret, but something apologetic at the very least – it’s rare.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you –” Sofía smiles, her eyes soft, “– with me.”

They stay like that for a while, puffing and passing – watching the stars and watching each other. Not saying much of anything at all.

“You know… I haven’t packed yet,” Faustus admits after a while.

“Don’t you leave in…” It takes her a couple of tries to focus on her watch face. “Seven hours?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you –” The last word catches in Sofía’s mouth before she can verbalize it.

Staying?

“No.”

“Oh.”

“It’s hard, though. I –” He starts, then stops, stubbing out the roach on a roof tile.

“Every time I start flinging shit into suitcases it feels wrong.”

“Wrong how?” Does she really want to know the answer?

“I dunno. I was just starting to warm up to this place. I know it’s time for me to leave but…” He trails off again, sighs, then points to the stars. Starts again.

“No matter where you go, they’re all the same.”

Tears brim her waterline, threatening to spill. He’s barely acknowledged that he’s leaving for good, and now of all times he’s choosing to get all sentimental.

“When you look up there, just know that I’m looking, too.”

It’s hard not to sob into his chest, but she holds back, opting to clutch him closer, kissing him so deeply that she’s sure she’ll be consumed by him in no time.

Maybe she’d prefer it that way.

––––

#my fic #i have no idea what to tag this as other than this KMDGKDMG i'll self rb and add organizational tags later

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anne-i-write · 3 years

Text

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: can you write headcanons for moriarty brothers meeting and having dinner with s/o's parents for the first time? and s/o's father is overprotective. thanks 🤍🙆🏻 |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1857

tw: mentions of toxic behavior in albert’s hcs

a/n: IM BACK AND THRIVING BBS!!! it’s so good to be back again to writing!!! hhh i’m so sorry if this is far from what you wanted but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!!! lowkey went off the railings w this one so 👀 also if i missed any tags, please let me know!!!!!

william: 803 words

it had been you and your father since you were younger bc your mom was the “lucky” choice of some noble

but you wouldn’t have it any other way

you two are very close and everyone in the town knows

that, and that you both hate nobles

so it’s no surprise when the moriartys move into town, you’re both less than pleased

you always try your best to avoid them whenever they come into your town and your father always begs his friends to take the nobles as customers, despite the fact it could be good for business

but the town you lived in was particularly small and you did end up bumping into william

literally

some stupid man didn’t see you crossing the road and you were nearly crushed by the carriage if it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled at your wrist

“i swear people these days don’t know how to drive carriages.”

you don’t know who you were expecting

BUT ANYONE BUT A NOBLE

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine thank you—“

you’re absolutely flustered

how did i not know that this was a noble??? he smells so clean!

“i’ve got to be on my way now!” and you left william there with no explanation

but lil did you know he actually knew who you were

or to an extent, you weren’t as sneaky as you’d hoped you’d be

he saw you hiding in corners and alleyways every time you two accidentally made eye contact

and some of the townsfolk actually told him a little about you and your father so he understood why you weren’t too welcoming

but to take great lengths to avoid him??? he is very intrigued

so he starts off small, trying to send you a kind smile before you dart off behind a fruit stall

he really tries his best to get close to you and after a few weeks (and a few persuasive friends), he finally gets to hold a conversation with you

and boy does he fall FAST

it takes a while but you finally reciprocate his feelings and he thinks its smooth sailing from there right???

lmao everyone knows your father is literally the most intimidating looking man that could ever walk the earth

if they didn’t know him personally, they would be afraid of getting curb stomped 🤠

i mean,, he’s a big softie but god forbid anyone even DARES to look at you in a romantic light

you warn william of this and he’s like “don’t worry love, it shouldn’t be too bad”

it is bad

even william has cold hands bc your father is giving him the dirtiest look

dinner isn’t even dinner it’s a grill with how much questions your father is asking him

it does NOT help that he’s a noble

“so,,, you’re a noble”

“your cooking is amazing sir”

your father leaves the table for a little bit and you can hear the quiet sigh of relief from william

“i’m sorry for my father”

“no, no,,, i just,,, your father’s really intimidating, isn’t he?”

you let out a chuckle and william relaxed, a soft smile gracing his lips

“he can be, but it’s just something he does.” you threw a wistful gaze at the door your father disappeared before.

“he’s just worried about you, i can see it. he doesn’t want you around people like me.” you grabbed his hand over the table and he gently squeezed your hand.

“if anything, if he’d give you a chance, he’d want me to be with you. noble or not”

you both continue to have a delightful conversation, your sweet laughs filling the room

however, you didn’t know your father was listening in on your conversation and he couldn’t agree more with william

your mother left with more than just a curt goodbye and unshed tears

she left you with a tear stained letter filled with sorrowful regrets and sincere apologies

he knew you would eventually grow up to be critical of the world and if you were to find out that your mother had left unwillingly, he was afraid that you would be too bitter towards the world

but as he hears your laugh and his worries are dulled down a little

he sees you smiling so happily at william and when he chances a glance at the noble beside you, his worries are completely erased

william’s looking at you the same way everyone swore he looked at your mother

it’s a gentle gaze filled with love and kindness, one that he knew could protect you and take care of you

your father hated nobles and hovered over you when it came to love

but he couldn’t help but hold back on questions when he came back and you instantly noticed that your father took a liking william

louis: 508 words

everyone knew you as “Little Noble” in your town

the sole reason being your father literally treating you like a noble lmao

he gave you the best of everything he could afford and tried his best to not let you do any work

tried

of course, you were a little angel and you HAD to help otherwise you’d cry about making someone else tired when you could’ve easily helped

you’ve carried this trait until your early twenties and there were no signs that you would stop

hence why you were bringing home some fresh fruits from the stall clerk before a man bumps into you

you were so caught off guard that your knee buckled and you fell on your butt

everyone was stunned into silence as you fell but louis was so apologetic

so when he helped you back up, he felt the chilling stares of the town burning into his back

and then you apologize for bumping into him when he was the one who bumped into you and you fell??????

“please, let me make you something! i feel so bad!”

he tries to decline but there was this odd pressure to say yes to you

he ends up going home with you

you’re both in front of the door before your father opens it, his eyes wide

“who is this boy?”

“oh, i didn’t get his name on the way here. what is your name?”

your poor father’s heart is pounding way too fast for his liking

“oh! look at that, thank you so much for bringing my child home! you should be going home now”

he tries to shut the door on louis but you hold it open and beckon louis inside

“i invited him here! i accidentally bumped into him earlier so i offered to make him something!”

louis is so awkward pls

your father reluctantly lets him in but gives him a side eye the whole time he’s in the house

“does your child do this often?”

“why? do you find it strange?”

YOUR FATHER IS SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PLEASE SAVE LOUIS

anyways, you finish making your treat and give it to louis, your father glaring at your interaction

louis is still a little stiff but the more you talk to him, his guard is let down a little

soon enough he has to leave and you wish him well

he leaves with a wave and a kind smile and you look over at your father who had been scowling since you appeared at the front door

“he is a bit cute, don’t you think father?”

your father sputters, stunned by your bold claim

“y-you’re still too young to think about men like that!”

you laugh and shut the front door, teasing your poor father about finding love while also wondering if you would meet louis again

as you talk with your father behind closed doors, louis smiles to himself as he thinks about the unusual encounter today

surely, if i met them again tomorrow, it would make for a pleasant day

albert: 546 words

he meets your father before he meets you

it was during a ball your parents organized in order to connect with the more prestigious nobles around you

your parents were obsessed with the way your family was viewed and apparently being an earl wasn’t enough

so albert hears about you when your father boasts about how you’re the perfect child who answered to his every beck and call

in all honesty, albert was disgusted

no one deserved to be brought up like that

he casually makes his way into the conversation and your father is seething

“my child is your age, it’s a shame you act like this, i would have thought of you as a prime husband for them”

who is this earl to tell him what to do?

needless to say your father crosses him off of the guest list for the next ball

days go by and your father doesn’t know that you’re currently in town, doing what you can to help the working class as best as you can

it is on one particular day of visiting an orphanage do you run into the eldest moriarty brother

you two exchange polite greetings and you both pause

“your father is the earl, is he not?”

“you are a general of the army, are you not?”

a brief mention of your father and your mood dulls slightly

“yes, but i’m here on my own accord”

he would kill you if he found out you were amongst the “filth” as he called them

“well, i’ve brought books for the children, would you like to help me read some to them?”

he seemed sincere enough to not want anything more from you, so you agreed

he was actually very pleasant to be around and you find yourself enjoying his company

the meetups continued to happen and soon enough, albert finds himself standing in front of the doors to your family estate

your father is not pleased at all

“it’s nice to meet you again, sir”

“i didn’t forget about what you said to me at our first meeting”

and you’re sitting there like,, ????? they’ve met??? and your father doesn’t like albert???????

of course, inviting albert to your home would have repercussions but you didn’t expect your father to be so hostile

he was always hostile towards other nobles unless they were of higher importance than him

but for him to hate albert so quickly and openly??? this was quite new

you had mentioned that your father has always been one for power so it was clear to albert that you obviously grew up in a home that was more,,, toxic than protective

it was at dinner that this behavior reached its peak and albert despised the atmosphere and the way your father treated you

“i’ve come here to ask for your child’s hand in marriage”

your father rejects the idea without any hesitation

“i refuse to have them live the rest of their life in your household when they could do so much better”

when you invited albert that night, you knew there would be repercussions with your father

but what you didn’t expect was that you would leave your father and adopt the moriarty name as your own, the family welcoming you with open arms

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader

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troubatrain · 3 years

Text

truth or dare - m. barzal

a/n: so @dembenchboys sent me an ask about how they wanted me to write a fic about Mat eating you out for the first time and then I absolutely ran with it. So happy Saturday here’s some straight up filth that i wrote in like a night (which I haven’t been able to do in forever so that’s exciting!!)

Your roommate’s boyfriend was an absolute idiot. Anthony was about half a bottle of wine deep, his cheeks red while tears were practically streaming down his face from laughter. He barged into your apartment a few hours ago, Mat in tow, ruining your girl’s night in with Zoe. Mat was apologetic, lounging on the couch in sweats shaking his head at Anthony who didn’t take your hints that they should leave.

“I just think we should play truth or dare if it's a girl's night,” Anthony argues, waving the glass of rose he was drinking around your couch, Zoe grabbing his hand to stop him from spilling it.

“I just think you’re an idiot,” You snap back, rolling your eyes at Zoe who was trying to tame her getting-drunker-by-the-minute boyfriend.

“I’ll play,” Mat sighs, sipping his beer and sitting up from the otherside of the couch.

“I thought you were on my side here,” You tap Mat in the arm, reminding him of the secret alliance you’d made a few weeks prior.

It was silly, but after Anthony and Zoe left you with Mat in a bar, Mat was pissed. Not at you, which he made clear after he told you about fifteen times he was mad at his teammate. But, he was so upset that Anthony invited you both out but couldn’t even bother to offer you a ride home. You told him it was fine, because most of the time Anthony was actually really kind to you, but Mat didn’t believe it. After he’d driven you home, Mat made a joke about how if you were both constantly forced to third wheel your friends, you could at least have each other's backs.

“I am,” Mat assures you, waving his hand at you and leaving over to whisper to you, “Sometimes it’s just easier to let him win.”

“I’ll play one round,” You sigh, Mat’s landing on your thigh to give it a squeeze, “Don’t get too excited.”

“I am excited,” Anthony cheers, an app with a bunch of random truth or dares literally open on his phone already, “You’re going first Y/N - truth or dare?” “Truth,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch. You hear a chorus of boo’s from everyone else at your answer, “Do you want me to play or not?”

“You’re so lame,” Anthony hollers, dragging out his words, tapping his phone to shuffle a truth question, “Oh this is a good one, tell the story of the best orgasm you ever had.”

Zoe’s eyes went wide, looking at you while you choked on your drink. It wasn’t a sensitive topic, the whole never having an orgasm thing, but it definitely wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with Zoe’s drunk ass boyfriend and his insanely handsome teammate. Your past boyfriends hadn’t always been great, and considering not one of them had ever gone down on you, it wasn’t surprised you’d never had someone get you off. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks and before a lie could come to mind, Anthony already had you read.

“You’ve never had an orgasm,” Anthony accuses, a confused look on his face. You gave it away, nodding your head and not even daring to turn to look at Mat who was sitting next to you, “Oh my-” “Beau,” Zoe stops him, grabbing his arm to remind him to be nice with whatever thing he had to say next.

“How?” Anthony asks, his jaw still practically hitting the floor, “What kind of douchebags are you dating? Or is it-” “Tito, no one’s ever gone down on me and I’ve never had an orgasm,” You start to explain, anger boiling in you that you had to explain yourself at all, “You know what? I’m going.”

You get up, grabbing your glass and a few empty plates that were littering the coffee table. You heard Anthony call your name, probably to apologize for striking a nerve, but you ignored him. You were moving around the kitchen frantically, cleaning to try and distract yourself from your own emotions. You just didn’t want to talk about it, talking about your sex life just wasn’t something you did often. You hear a few footsteps in the kitchen and you turn around quickly to spot Mat was leaning against the counter waiting for you to turn off the sick.

“Zoe drove Tito home,” Mat sighs, getting up and gently turning the knob to turn off the sink, “And I’m sorry he’s a dick.” “It’s not your fault Mat,” You take a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with the plate that was in your hand, “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with him.”

“No you should have, he shouldn’t have questioned you,” Mat argues back, “It’s okay you know, by the way.”

“I don’t need validation from you about my lack of sexual experience just because you get laid all the time Mat,” You remind him, finally looking up at the apologetic man in front of you. Mat’s eyes were soft, with a smile that matched when you finally looked at him, “It could be just me.” “Or it’s whatever losers you’re dating who won’t go down on a girl,” Mat scoffs, running a hand through his hair. His mind had been blown from the second he realized why you didn’t answer Anthony’s question. But, Mat could believe never having an orgasm, but never having someone go down on you - that should have been a crime, “I bet I could get you off.”

“My first orgasm isn’t some prize Mat,” You say, walking past Mat to open your fridge and pull out the bottle of wine you’d opened a few hours ago.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mat rushes out, trying to fix his mistake. He looks panicked for a moment, like the gears in his head were turning. He took a few steps forward boldly, taking the bottle out of your hand and pushing you against the counter, “I just mean I could take care of you if you’ll let me.”

Mat’s large hands were gripping your waist, and you could feel yourself practically melting under his touch. You look straight at his chest, watching the chain peeking out from under his hoodie shine against the fluorescent lighting in your kitchen. You knew you breathing was heavy, and you bit your lip debating it for just a moment. Mat was a good guy, and you were sure no one would ever find out about this if you asked him to keep it quiet, “I’m not a pity fuck.”

“You were wearing blue the first time I met you,” Mat whispers, his lips ghosting overs, “I remember that because the first time I saw you I walked over to flirt with you and then Tito introduced us.”

You smile at the memory, the light blue top you were wearing was one of your favorites. It was the end of the summer, and you were holding onto the last few moments of warm weather before fall hit New York. Zoe dragged you out that night, insisting you met her new boyfriend and a few of his friends. You remember meeting Mat that night, but you didn’t know what his actual intentions in talking to you were, “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“Tito really likes Zoe, I didn’t want to make things weird,” Mat laughs, his eyes flicking down to your lips that were barely an inch away from his. You lean forward, throwing caution to the win and placing your lips on Mat’s. He smiled against your lips, grabbing your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Please make me cum,” You breathe out, leaving a trail of kisses down Mat’s jaw while you directed him to your bedroom. He drops you on the bed, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. You bit your lip, eyes raking over every muscle on Mat’s body that was drool worthy.

“You can stop me whenever you want,” Mat assures you, climbing on top of you and pulling you in for a kiss. Mat bit down on your lip gently, smirking when he heard a moan slip through your lips, “I could kiss you all day.”

“I assumed you’d get to it by now,” You admit, knowing everyone man you’d ever been with would have thrown foreplay out the door by now. Mat laughed against your neck, taking a break from the mark he was intent on leaving.

“This is why you’ve never had an orgasm,” Mat chuckles, picking his head up to look you in the eyes, “I’m taking my time with you.”

You smile, pulling Mat back down by his chain to meet his lips to yours. Mat’s hand snuck under your shirt, waiting for you to nod and give him permission before he tossed the t-shirt behind him, groaning when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. Mat pressed a kiss to your neck, making his way down between yours breasts. His tongue swirled your nipple, hands moving down your body to pull your shorts off. You arch your back, letting out a whimper when you felt Mat’s teeth against your skin. Mat kissed down your body, stopping when his lips hit just above your panties. He looked up at you, waiting for the green light to take them off.

“Go ahead Mat,” You breathe out, the anticipation practically killing you. Mat slipped his fingers under your panties, sliding them down your legs and throwing them to the side. He presses a few kisses to the inside of your thighs. You bite your lip, the sight of anyone between your thighs was new, let alone Mat. A whimper left your mouth when you felt Mat’s lips just above your clit, hot breath fanning over your pussy.

“You’re sure about this babe?” Mat asks one more time, a cautious tone to his phone. Something in your gut told you he was never this gentle, but the way he was handling you was just too sweet. You nod, watching while Mat flicked your clit gently, afraid if he went too hard too fast you’d either go into shock or you’d be too turned off to get you there. His tongue went flat, licking a stripe down your folds and teasing your entrance. Your hands landed in Mat’s hair, pulling on them gently while a moan slipped through your lips, “You like that?”

“Yes,” You whimper, a feeling you couldn’t quite describe overtaking your body. Sex never felt this good, because no one you’d ever been was bothered to pay attention to your body. Mat smirks, clearly pleased with himself for figuring out exactly what made you tick. He tossed your thighs over his shoulders, his tongue moving faster on your pussy while his nose was rubbing against your clit. You could feel it, the build up from pleasure while your moans became the only sound in your bedroom, “Mat, fuck, I think I’m going to-”

You didn’t even finish your sentence before your legs began to shake as your orgasm took over your body. Mat was gentle, his mouth still on you while you rode out your high, but not enough to overstimulate you just yet. You laid there for a minute, Mat pressing kisses into your stomach while you caught your breath. Even you could read the smile on his face, one that was clearly satisfied with the victory of finally getting you to cum, “You did so good baby.”

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks at Mat’s praise, something you were quickly learning you really loved to hear, “Do it again.”

Mat smiles against your skin, a light laugh leaving his lips, “How?”

“With your fingers,” You whisper, biting your lip and looking down at Mat’s hands that were still wrapped around your thighs. Mat nods, freeing his grip on your thighs with one hand and letting his finger trace your folds, collecting the cum from the first time. He swipes it with his finger, sucking your cum right off it.

“You taste so fucking good,” Mat admits, and you let a breathy moan as a response. Mat’s eyebrows raise, “Do you like when I praise you?”

You nod quickly, pulling Mat up to meet your lips. Mat kisses were slow, but his finger that was slipping in you wasn’t. His thumb circled your clit while he caught your moans with his mouth, “Two.”

“Give a girl one orgasm and she’s already this demanding,” Mat jokes, tucking his head into your neck while he slipped another one of his long fingers in your, “You’re taking my fingers so well princess.”

“I’m going to cum again Mat,” You moan, your hips lifting off your mattress while Mat’s fingers move relentlessly in and out of you. Your hips sputtered, your legs shaking at the pleasure of your high. Mat finally slips them out, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a muttered good girl that left a chill up your spine. You looked down, the bulge in Mat’s gray sweats was prominent, a part of you almost felt guilty for leaving him high and dry like that, “Mat let me-”

“No,” Mat grabs your hand, entwining it with his and pulling it up to his mouth, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“What if I want you to fuck me?” You bat your eyelashes, trying to muster up the sexiest face you could while Mat’s brain short circuited from your question.

“You don’t have to get me off,” Mat makes his point clear, driving home the whole notion that he doesn’t want to push you into an uncomfortable situation, “I can do it myself and-”

Your free hand makes it way down Mat’s chest, running your fingers over his abs and stopping at the waistband on his sweats, “Mat Barzal I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck,” Mat breathes out, watching you pull down his sweats and boxers in one motion, his cock springing freely from his pants. He’d been turned on from the moment he stepped in your bedroom, the idea of getting you off for the first time was just too hot for him to handle. You pumped his cock a few times, letting the precum on his dick spread. You rolled over, opening your drawer and fishing for a condom that you were thanking your lucky stars was actually in there. Mat grabs it, ripping the plastic open and rolling the condom onto his dick while you lightly rubbed your clit in anticipation, “You look so fucking perfect right now.”

“Mat please,” You whimper, a bold statement considering you’d never been one to be vocal in the bedroom about anything. Mat rubbed the head of his cock against you, slowly entering you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mat groans, the feeling of your pussy around his cock lived in his wildest fantasies, ones that he stored in the back of his mind so he could get through hanging out with you without getting a boner. Mat bottomed out, giving you a few minutes to adjust to how big he was. You whispered a small go against his shoulder, your lips against his skin while Mat pulled his hips back and started a slow pace in you. You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into the muscles on his back. Mat looked down at you, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his lips against your forehead, “I think my cock was made for you babe.”

“Harder Mat,” You moan, the same feeling you got the first two times building up inside of you. Mat took the hint, his hand snaking down your body and rubbing his thumb against your clit while he picked up his own pace. Your pussy flutters around him, and you ride out of your high while Mat tries to chase his own. His movements became erratic and with a loud groan he spilled into the condom.

The room was quiet, Mat laying on top of you while you both tried to catch your breath. You traced your finger down Mat’s back, “That was something.”

“Glad I could be your first, second, and third orgasm,” Mat chuckles, finally slipping out of you and tossing the condom in the garbage. He disappeared for a moment, coming back with a warm towel to clean you up. You winced at the contact, “I know you’re still sensitive babe but you’ve got to let me take care of you.”

Mat’s words were gentle, followed by a kiss on the inside of your thigh before he got up to collect his clothes that were thrown across your room, “I don’t want to go but-”

“I know Barz,” You laugh, knowing full well he had a morning skate the next day that if he was late for Trotz would have his ass, “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Listen, next time you're out with someone I can send him notes on how to get you off,” Mat jokes, throwing his hoodie back on and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Or we can save the middleman and you can let me take you out.”

“Well I guess cutting out the middleman would be best,” You giggle, feeling Mat’s lips turn into a smile.

“So Saturday?”

“It’s a date Barz.”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal #this is just smut i regret nothing #nhl imagine

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uglypastels · 4 years

Text

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 2/2

(a/n) and, as promised, here’s part 2! again big thanks to @duskholland and @captainpeggy40 <333 but a quick reminder, that i don’t often write smut, i don’t really know shit about writing smut so i actually had no business doing it... but i did it. so enjoy :) just, if its bad, don’t come for me

word count: 9117 words of filth tbh

warning: SMUT, i don’t even know what to specify. just.. 18+ okay but also, some fluff and humor cause i live by that

Please reblog if you liked it so more people can see it <3 and if you want to see more of this au, send an ask or dm <3

Read part 1 here <---> extra headcanons here

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.” He said softly. For a second, it felt like your heart had stopped altogether. How you hoped he would say that, and then he did.

“What do you want to do?”

“I live a block away. We can- I don’t really know what we can do, to be honest.” He admitted, making both of you laugh.

“Your place sounds good,” and you stepped aside for him to lead the way. Tom opened the door but almost stopped when he saw it was raining. And it was raining hard. It had escalated from the moment you had looked out the window. Then you realised he didn’t have a jacket and was only wearing that tank top.

“I would offer you my jacket,” you said, “but I don’t think you would fit it… and I don’t have one.” You came to realise like the genius you were.

“I guess we’ll have to run for it, then.” He held out his hand. You didn’t even hesitate and grabbed it. Clutching on to the shirt and CD, you ran alongside Tom, across the street and then following it to the next right. It wasn’t really a run, but definitely a trot. The rain poured down on you, quickly soaking through all your clothes. By the time you had reached the door of his apartment building, your hair was sticking to your face, and you both looked like drenched cats. Tom grabbed his keys and unlocked the door as quickly as possible, letting you go first.

You leaned against the wall and let your breathing calm down. He did the same against the door. There was a second of silence before you started laughing. What was so funny? Neither of you knew. It just felt nice and like the right thing to do after running through the rain like idiots. Oh, so that’s what was so funny.

“Right, this way,” he pointed up the stairs. “I would suggest the elevator, but it hasn’t worked in like five years, I think.”

“Stairs are fine,” you said, already walking up.

“Wait until the fourth floor. Cause I’m not carrying you.” He joked, and you giggled, putting away the thought of him holding you in his arms and carrying you up the stairs into his home… and kissing you… throwing you onto the bed… FOCUS!

“Woah!” you almost missed a step, but luckily Tom caught you just in time.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, just a bit slippery,” you tried to excuse your clumsiness, hoping that the fact that you were soaked from top to bottom would help. It did. Still laughing at you though, Tom helped you up and from then on you walked side by side. All the way up to the sixth floor. As exhausted as you were, you tried to play it off cool.

“Here we are.” He tapped on the door with his whole palm, and for a second you thought someone would open, but then he pulled out his keys again. A moment later you were walking into the flat. You couldn’t see much in the dark, but Tom quickly turned on the lights. It was a nice looking place—big living room with an attached kitchen. On one side there were two doors, which you assumed were his bedroom and bathroom. It was clean, but here and there some items were misplaced or left behind, making known that there was indeed a person living here.

On the wall closest to the entrance, you noticed pictures hanging. Most were of Tom and his friends and family. One stood out to you. It was an adorable little dog, smiling at the camera. When you looked over to the living room again, you noticed a red dog bed next to the couch with a bunch of squeaky toys.

“You have a dog?” you asked, already excited to see a puppy.

“Yeah, she’s called Tessa, but she’s staying with my parents and other brothers for the weekend since I would be out of the house for most of the time.”

“Ah yeah, that makes sense-” you had been looking around, not paying too much attention to Tom himself in all honesty. But then you had turned around and froze. There was Tom. Shirtless. He looked at you, slightly concerned and confused as to why you looked like that. You just had no idea what to respond with. There he was… six-pack and- and everything, in all its glory. His arms were still shining from the rain. Was this actually real?

You hadn’t noticed it before, but without the shirt, you saw how he had been wearing a necklace. A thin silver chain with some sort of charm on it that from a distance looked like a coin. He had been in the middle of fixing it when you turned around. So, there was that flexed arm to add to the things that broke your mind momentarily.

Tom stared at you, looked down at himself, then back at you. He was about to look behind himself, probably to check if there was something wrong, but then realised.

“Oh..OH. Shit.”

You were still speechless.

“See, I did not think this through. I was just gonna change my shirt.” He showed you the wet piece of cloth that was once his loose tank top. “Do you want something to wear? I don’t want you to catch a cold.” Now that you mentioned it, you were starting to shiver.

Your throat dry, you tried to mutter out, “uhh, yes. Thank you.” He nodded, walked past you and disappeared into the room you suspected to be the bedroom. He was gone for a bit, but when he came back, he was already changed. You had to hide your disappointment that he had put on a shirt, but the grey sweatpants made up for it in a way. Fuck.

“Here,” he handed you some clothes. “It’s probably not the best outfit, but it should keep you warm.”

“Thank you.” you grabbed the clothes from him. “Can I change in there?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” He got out of the way, but you only took a step before he repeated something. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uhm, sure. Tea?”

“Coming right up.” and he went off to the kitchen to set the kettle. You walked, uninterrupted, to the other room. It was, like assumed, the bedroom with not much there except for a closet and a large bed. It did look really comfortable though. And made up. You wished your bedroom looked this clean.

You took off your wet clothes, which was quite the challenge since it all stuck to your skin and your jeans wouldn’t budge from their place. The clothes Tom had provided were some shorts that seemed like he used for training or whatever exercise he did and a sweater. You had wanted to wear your new Winter Solstice t-shirt but, of course, that had soaked through as well. So, you put on the sweater and knew immediately that that was the better choice. It was soft and warm. Plus, the idea of wearing his clothes was also touching to the heart.

You walked out of the room as Tom was pouring the boiling water into two mugs. He looked over at you with a smile.

“How do you take it?” He was opening the fridge, ready to take out the milk.

“Honey and lemon, but it’s fine if you don’t have that.” you quickly added.

“Please, you’re talking to the tea expert here.” He took out a bottle of lemon juice, the same out you always buy you noticed, and a jar of honey from the cupboard. As he did that, you looked around some more in the room. The large leather couch was definitely the centre point of the room, with the large tv in front of it, accompanied by a PlayStation. There was a bookcase filled with… well, books, but also CD’s, records and different little things between them. You looked around, hoping to find a drum set somewhere, but there was none. Which made sense. You didn’t expect the neighbours to be too fond of drumming as a pastime hobby.

“We practice at Harrison’s place. He soundproofed his place.” Tom explained, seeing how you were looking around cluelessly. He handed you your cup as you both sat down on the couch. Fearing for your tongue, you carefully took the first sip, but it was surprisingly pleasant. He must have poured in some cold water to cool it down, just the right amount too. As soon as the tea got into your system, you felt the warmth go through your entire body. It was absolutely fantastic.

Still, you had to admit, it was a strange situation. Never would you have imagined to go to a concert and then, later on, go out for a late-night meal with the drummer, and now to be drinking tea on his couch.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” You quizzed. Tom looked up from his mug.

“Do what?”

“This. Take a girl out to eat, bring her home, undress in front of her… make her tea.” you elaborated on your question.

“The tea making, yeah, that’s new.” He sipped his tea with a slurp.

“Well, I’m glad to be the first then.” You knew he had meant it jokingly, so why not just go along with it?

You drank your tea together in silence. It all had this strange domestic feeling that was very nice, but by far not what you thought would be doing with Tom that night. But eventually, the tea had been drunk. You were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. At one point you had put your legs on top of his. You could see that he was thinking about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked. He had been staring at the coffee table, mumbling the Flintstones theme song to himself and tapping his fingers along to the melody on your leg. You had clearly pulled him out of a trance.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking, we can sit here the whole night until we fall asleep, or we can put on some music and dance. Just a suggestion.” He was full of surprises, this guy.

“Yeah, sure.” You got up and pulled him by the hands to follow you. “Sounds fun. Pick a song” You thought he would just get out his phone and get a Bluetooth speaker, but boy were you wrong. He moved over to the bookcase with his music collection. You tried to look over his shoulder at what record he had picked, but he pulled it out of the sleeve quickly and put it under the needle of the record player.

As the needle scratched between songs, he walked back to you. The music that he picked was slow, and it felt perfect for the moment as he took your hand in his and let the other softly touch your side. You weren’t the most excellent dancer but knew enough that you had to put your free arm on his shoulder.

The two of you moved around the room slowly, to the beat of the song. You put your head on his chest and could hear his heart beating along, well a bit faster. You could see his necklace poking out from underneath his shirt, so you let go of his shoulder to pull it out.

“It’s nice,” you smiled, a bit dazed, playing with the charm between your fingers. You could hear him chuckle a thank you.

The song was new to you. It was a simple melody, the singing was soft and intimate. As you spun around in Tom’s arms, it felt like the words were speaking to you directly. What was it again? You couldn’t remember exactly. Feeling him so close next to you, everything else was just a blur. Just like when he sang-

“Wait, is this you?” you looked up at him. He just smiled.

“Oh my god, it is!” Way to ruin the moment, but the song had already ended, and it was the only one on that side of the small record. “You guys have records?”

“We got ourselves an EP copy each,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. “I hoped you would like it.”

“I- I do.”

You looked into his eyes, trying- hoping- to see what he was thinking. They were flickering golden brown in the soft and warm light of the room. Then you saw it. That one sign you were looking for. It was just a fracture of a second. If you had blinked, you were sure you would have missed it. But you did see it. You saw how his eyes quivered down to your lips and back up to meet your eyes again.

He held your hand in his, the other was on your waist. He pulled you in closer—your chest against his. You could feel how shaky his breath was against your cheek. You lost your battle with self-control as you dared to glance down at his lips. They looked so soft. So inviting.

And you took that invitation gladly. Pressing your lips against his. He stumbled back a step, not expecting the push. He let go of your hand so he could hold you firmly against his chest. In the meantime, your hands wandered off to his hair. It was still wet from the rain, making it easier for you to comb through it. The kiss itself intensified with each lasting second.

A sound escaped you as he grabbed onto your leg, just to drag you off to the couch. He sat, giving you easy access to sit on his lap. You sat down with great pleasure.

If the air wasn’t such a necessity in life, it would have been likely you would have never pulled away, but alas. You parted your lips just enough to stop your lungs from burning. Tom took that moment to brush off a strand of hair behind your ear. A classic little move but you fell for it immediately. The feeling of his fingers against your skin. It felt sinful. It was only your cheek. Just thinking about his touch all over your body gave you that rush to kiss him again.

As he kept on holding your waist with one hand, the other made its way to your thigh, squeezing it gently. That little gesture made you jump up. Unplanned, was the friction between your and his hips. You couldn’t hear it, but you felt him hold back the moan.

“Fuck, don’t hold it in,” as frustrating it was to pull away, it had to be said. “Please,” you panted.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He leaned in to kiss you again, but this time he went lower down to your jawline. You held on to the back of his head and shoulder for support as he kissed and nipped at your skin, moving down to your neck.

Your body was starting to feel hotter and hotter. The once so comfortable sweater was just an inconvenient restriction at this point. And Tom felt that too. To your disappointment, his hands left your body to tug at the hem of the sweater. Before taking it off, however, he looked you in the eyes.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“But, if you ever wanna stop, just tell me, okay?”

“Yes.” How he managed to form full sentences, that was a mystery. You put your arms up, letting Tom take off the sweater. He threw it over the edge of the couch. Not a second later, your lips were together once again. Even though it only had been a minute, two max, it felt like an eternity that you had to get through to touch him again.

His fingers moved slowly over your body. Every inch he moved, followed with a burning sensation as if he was on fire. Burning you gradually, in the best way possible. One thing just felt off. So, you tugged at his shirt.

“I’m not doing all the work, babe,” he said with a grin. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it wasn’t as if you really minded undressing him. You grabbed the shirt and slowly pulled it up to his chest. One by one, his muscles showed themselves, and you had to control the urges that started building up in the pit of your stomach. You pulled the shirt. Tom already had his arms up, ready to get the fabric off. If only he knew about your plan that started forming in your head.

The hem of the shirt just touched his lip when you put it in his mouth. He was about to spit it out, but you stopped him.

“Just wait, okay.” He kissed his cheek sweetly, making him roll his eyes at you. As slowly as possible, you slid off his lap. He wanted to make a grab at your hips, but you pushed his hands off… with difficulty, cause fuck, if it didn’t feel right to have him touch you.

The only way to let him leave you alone was intertwining your fingers, and letting your hands fall to his sides. He saw how you planted your feet on the ground so to make it easier for the both of you he spread his legs. It was a golden sight. With a big smile on your face, you leaned in, kissing his chest. It immediately received the reaction you hoped for. With the fabric in his mouth, Tom groaned softly, but still very audibly in the quiet room. When you looked up, you saw him tugging at the shirt as he tried to pull his head up, tensing his jaw. He could have just spit it out if he really wanted it gone… but he didn’t.

Thought it safe, you let go of his hands. They stayed in place next to his thighs. You moved closer to him to continue the feather-light kisses along his smooth skin. With each touch, his chest heaved in deep and heavy inhaled. You kept going. Kiss after kiss, moving lower and lower. You couldn’t help it but lick down that line of his abs, across that gorgeous tummy of his. And it was good too, rewarded with a beautiful growl from Tom. You could have said it was the best thing you had heard that night, but you had listened to a lot of good things that night… and who knew what was still to come.

You left one last kiss below his belly button, exactly to meet the elastic band of his underwear. A part of you wanted to snap it, but that felt a bit too cruel considering you almost made him swallow his shirt. You looked up again. It was a magnificent sight, Tom holding that hemline in his mouth, gritting his teeth as his chest moved up and down, needing and hoping for a release. He looked down at you too, and his eyes were black with lust. You could see him clenching his fists.

That was a sign of continuing. Unlike before, you quickly started to unbutton his trousers. You were too focused on your little task to look at Tom, but you saw him roll his head on the backrest of the couch. You unzipped the pants and pulled them down with a few tugs.

You almost felt bad seeing how hard he got in those few moments. Almost. Just a little bit more teasing wouldn’t hurt, right? Tom had other ideas. He pulled out the shirt from his mouth, tugged it off in one swift move, and threw it behind him. He glared down at you. “I swear if you don’t suck me off right now-”

“Or what?” you challenged him. This clearly took him aback, but only for a second. Then, this twinkle in his eye appeared, telling you that there was not a saint thought in his mind at that moment. He leaned over, only an inch away from your face. His words were like a high, each one giving you precisely the right rush of adrenaline you needed.

“Suck my cock, Princess, or I’ll just have to fuck that pretty mouth myself.”

And you were gonna let him, but a more significant part of you didn’t want to give up that easily. So, for now, you let out a soft whimper and nodded. Tom kissed you softly on the lips before sitting back up straight. He looked like a king on a fucking throne, with that proud and smug grin. It was giving you the greatest pleasure to ruin that little moment of his.

You palmed him through his boxers, moving your hand up and down, then leaned in yourself to kiss it, still through the fabric. Tom hissed out a moan, and right then, you knew you were golden. One more little kiss and you reached out for the border of his underwear. You were about to pull it down-

And then you got up.

“What the fuck-”

“I’m gonna get some water, I think.” And just like that you hopped over to the little kitchen and grabbed yourself a glass. As you were pouring yourself the water, you could hear him shuffling his feet out of his trousers. You could hear him walk up behind you. As you were about to touch the brim of the glass against your lips, you felt him push against your back. His hard-on was more than evident. He moved his fingers into your hips as he whispered into your ear, making your body shake from anticipation.

“So, you wanna play games, huh?” His tone was nothing but filthy. “You could have just said so, I mean I got Monopoly somewhere in the closet.” His left hand drifted off, moving up your side. You were still holding that damn glass of water, body frozen.

“Or I could turn on the PlayStation, whatever you want darling.” He kissed you just below the ear. His hand was sliding across the valley between your breast, tracing up to your neck.

“Hmm, tell me, what do you want?”

“I- I-” you couldn’t think straight. With him talking like that and his soft touch, it was too much.

“Speak up, baby.”

“I want...Aah!! What the fuck!” Suddenly his touch was gone, and you felt something ice-cold cover your torso. You had still been holding up that glass of water, and when Tom got close enough, he tipped it over with his finger, letting all the cold content spill out on you. Goosebumps formed all over your body, and you shrieked out in pure shock.

“Oops,” he giggled and pecked you on the cheek. Before you could say another word, he was walking away, in the direction of his bedroom. Not looking around, he held up his hand.

“Counting to four and then you better be here, without those ugly shorts.”

“They’re yours,” you said as he opened the door, still shivering from the cold water. He opened the door and was gonna close it but then quickly said-

“So? I have horrible taste. Take ‘em off, darling,” and he closed it. You could hear him count from the other side.

ONE

You quickly pushed off the, indeed, not great looking shorts.

TWO

You started walking up to the bedroom. The butterflies in your stomach had left the cage and were going crazy.

THREE

Almost at the door.

FOUR

You opened it. There stood Tom. He didn’t even hide the way he was checking you out. In only a bra and panties, there was little you could hide behind, but you tried to fight the insecurities.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He said before striding your way. Grabbing on to you, he kissed you passionately. You felt his hand in your hair, so you mimicked it. For the rest, you had no idea what was going on since you had closed your eyes. You let all the other senses speak for themself—his soft but harsh touch; the way you could still smell the rain on him—the sweet taste of honey and tea on his lips. You could hear the little grunts and whimpers escape the both of you as he slammed you against the door with a thud.

Then he grabbed your leg, signally for you to jump. You did without hesitation. Arms around his neck, fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him feverishly. The fact that he was holding you up with only one hand hadn’t even caught up to you. The hand that was leaning against the door next to your face was not even registered by your addled brain yet.

Feeling the need for air again, you pulled away. Your foreheads were leaning against each other as you both inhaled deeply.

“What happened to fucking my mouth, Tommy?” You quipped. Tom was staring down, looking at how your chest heaved deeply with every breath.

“Would take too long,” he said, now looking up into your eyes. “I thought it would be better to just straight up start with your sweet little cunt.” He growled into your ear. Before you could say anything in response, he kissed you again.

His words were still spinning around in your head as he pushed the two of you away from the wall and carried you across the room to the bed. You could feel his erection against you, hard as a fucking rock. Why did you pull away from him on the couch?

He put his knee on the mattress before letting you drop. It made you think back to just a few hours ago, how you had fallen down on to your own bed, contemplating whether or not to go to some dumb concert… now look at you.

Your head touched the soft bedding, but your legs were still around Tom’s middle. He grabbed your legs and spread them just the right way so he could lean closer to you.

“You look so fucking hot, right now.” He groaned as his teeth grazed your neck, making you arch your back. He pinned you back down on the bed.

“Seeing you in that crowd, you know how hard it was for me to concentrate?” At this point, he had your arms above your head, holding them tightly. He kissed your jawline and moved up to your ear, tugging at your earlobe just that little bit, enough to make you quiver. You didn’t realise he actually wanted an answer until you felt the harsh sting of him slapping your thigh. Just enough to send that spark up to where you needed him the most.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “No, Tommy, I didn’t.”

“Hmm, thought so. But I saw you staring at me. Checking me out, huh? I had to really control myself to not just grab you and fuck you out there, right on my drumset.” His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding back your arms, was getting closer to your pussy. Your entire body was pulsing and shaking, needing for him to do something. Anything.

“Just imagine that, Princess,” he was whispering into your ear again, “you bouncing on my dick, in front of all of those people.”

“Fuuck,” you had never been much into exhibitionism, but hearing him speak like that, everything sounded good.

Suddenly you felt his fingers move over your underwear. It was just for a moment, him passing through from one thigh to the other, but it was enough to have you moan out his name in need.

“Tsk, behave, darling,” he kissed your forehead. So sweetly, it almost seemed as if he wasn’t about to fuck the complete hell out of you. “You’re gonna behave for me, right?”

“Yes. Just please- please do something.” You pleaded, which gave great pleasure to Tom.

“Good to know we got that little attitude from earlier sorted out, huh? I really didn’t want to punish you.” He didn’t? So what the hell was this torture? Of course, it all felt amazing, but if he would cross his fingers one more time next to your clit, you might actually explode.

“Now, I think I’m going to finger your little pussy, okay Princess,” He asked with that sweet tone. You could feel his fingertips move across the fabric of your panties. “Yeah, I think you’d like that huh, look how fucking soaked you are.” With his thumb he pressed over your clit, moving down through the slit. You moaned out, finally feeling some kind of relief from him.

He kissed your neck as he finally moved your underwear to the side.

“You’re so pretty and needy, you know that?” he said, smiling. You nodded your head, biting your lip in anticipation of what he was gonna do next. You had your eyes closed and opened them for a moment. Tom was right above you. He sent you an air kiss for extra measure. You tried to focus on his eyes instead of the sensation you felt every time one of his fingers was getting closer to push into you. Still, whimpers escaped you. Which he enjoyed immensely.

Then he finally did it. Two fingers, deep inside, stretching your walls. You moaned out in pure relief, ecstatic to finally feel something inside you. Tom let you adjust for a second until he started to move slowly in and out, making momentum. Not that he forgot about your clit. Oh no, he rubbed it until you were seeing stars in front of you,

“I’m going to let go of you, alright?” You were ready to nod at his question, but he added more on to it. “But since you do like playing games so much-” here it comes, you knew it, “let’s make it a bit of a game. I’ll let go of you, and then you got, let’s say, three seconds to pick a new place for them. And then you better stick with it too, cause I don’t want to see you move until you come, understood?”

“Yes, Tommy.” you gasped more so than said.

“Good.” He kissed you but quickly started to move down. You knew what was going to happen, you had been waiting for it. But he was still holding on to you. Right as his mouth had passed your stomach, he let go of your wrists. Without thinking about it, you planted your fingers in his hair.

“Hmm, good choice, darling.” He mumbled against the skin of your hip. You brushed your fingers through his hair, not sure what else to do while waiting for him to-

Then, he pushed your panties aside completely. You felt his tongue, and it made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. He held on to your leg with one arm, the fingers of the other were still moving in and out of you. You held on to his hair, holding on for dear life. For a second that thought of possibly hurting him flashed through your mind, but then that melodic groan went through him, and the vibrations of his voice passed through your body like an electric shock.

He kept moving his tongue in a way that made you sure he was trying to spell something out, possibly his own name, but you simply couldn’t make anything of it. You could barely concentrate on your own breathing, let alone words.

Tom pulled you closer to him, deeper, making you moan like you never had before. Now, you had your fair share of experience, but he was… extraordinary. He took his time, made sure to give every minuscule part of you the attention it needed. Almost as if he wanted to hit every single nerve and cell individually. You weren’t even sure if he did it for your pleasure or because of his own.

Did it matter?

From the way how you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, clearly not.

“To-tom.” you gasped out. You were close. So close. But he didn’t need your words to know that. But it wasn’t enough for him. So, instead of going deeper, harder, faster, he sucked at your clit one last time before licking his way over to your thigh. You could have screamed in agony.

“Tom!” you did.

You wanted to let go of him and get up. Pull him up to you, maybe get on top even. But you remembered his words. I don’t want to see you move until you come. As much as you wanted to know what would happen if you broke that little rule, you also wanted to listen.

And so, you let out your frustration through digging your nails into his hair, but it had the exact opposite effect on Tom that you hoped for. Any time you would pull, even the tiniest bit, he would grab your thigh even harder, pulling himself to you. And he just kept on toying with you. Playing with your clit until that familiar knot was tying itself up in you, only to pull away and suck another perfect little hickey on your thighs. You had lost count how many times he had already marked you. On top of that, every time his lips would pull away, so would his fingers. Pull out just enough, only leaving his fingertips in you, to get you on that next edge of frustration, to make you beg for more.

“Tom, pleeease,” you begged. Tears were already forming in your eyes. It didn’t help that he would take that stupid necklace of his and put it against your burning skin. The cold metal of the charm always managed to come up against a new mark that Tom had left behind.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he said, kissing your sensitive skin between the words. You had to take all the power left in you to form the semi-coherent sentence.

“I want- want to come. Please, Tom.” Your head was spinning, body flushed and hot, sweat and tears mixing at your temples.

“You only had to say so.” His voice was the opposite of yours, composed and relaxed. You felt his smirk against you as he left one last kiss on you. The finally-

The easiest way to describe it was that he had gone wild. Animalistic. He devoured you as if he was a starving man, and you the last meal on earth. Then there were his fingers, moving at a rapid pace, but still so steady. You could feel it nearing. So fucking close. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Your legs were shaking, and all your other muscles were practically rigid from how tense you were. You needed to let go now. Feel that release at last.

At last, yes. With a scream, you felt it all relax. Your body came undone in a wave of pleasure. You were melting into the bed, Tom being the only thing keeping you somewhat conscious of your surroundings.

You tried to concentrate on the feeling of his lips, licking one final line over your clit. It shook you to your core. You whimpered, not being able to take much more. Your body went limp, you let go of his hair.

“Shhh,” he was moving up. Kissing your body, snaking his way back up to look into your eyes. The cold touch of the necklace followed behind. You opened your eyes, but everything was blurry. After blinking a few times, you could finally see him, drenched in your juices, with the biggest grin on his face.

He parted his lips just the tiniest bit, and you followed him blindly. You felt his fingers on your lips and without thinking, put them in your mouth. The taste of yourself, together with the feeling of his fingers tasted like the best damn thing ever.

“That’s right,” he kissed your tear-stained cheek, “you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded, closing your eyes. It was all too much, you had to cut off one of your senses before it was too late.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you looked right now. So fucked out- and I haven’t even had my good fun with you yet.”

You wanted to protest, but it was too difficult to speak. Besides, your fingers felt too good in your mouth to let them go for some pathetic little words. It wasn’t worth it.

But like all good things in life, it had to end. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Having no control left over your body, you let a whine escape you at the loss of touch.

“Christ, you’re needy,” he said before kissing you deeply, but shortly before he finished his statement. “I love it.” His hands were roaming your body. He held up your leg just so he could get in the position to squeeze your ass.

“Hold on to me, baby,” he murmured between another kiss. You did your best, still feeling no energy in your limbs. You crossed your arms behind his neck, feeding on the kiss for the strength to move. He held you as he pulled the both of you up to sit on the bed. And he kept holding on to you when he thrust his right hand to your back, to the strap of your bra. He moved his fingers around, looking for the clasp. Even in your dazed state, it made you laugh a little.

“It’s upfront,” you mumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth. He moved away to look at you, confused. You pointed down at the front of your bra.

“So you’re telling me,” he flicked it open, letting your breast basically spill out in front of him, “I could have had this view this whole time? Fuck!” He pulled the straps down your shoulders to take it off.

“Sorry?” you said, not sure if you really needed to apologise.

“No, don’t be.” He threw the bra to the floor. Almost on the spot where you had changed. It really wasn’t that long ago, but it felt like it. Had you thought of this happening when you put on his sweater? Maybe? In a sense. It was an option. But nothing would have prepared you for this.

How could you have even thought about sitting on his lap, your legs around his waist, your arms on his shoulders, as he held you? Because of this, this wasn’t just some simple fuck. You hoped it wasn’t, at least. The way you held each other and how there was nothing but the passion between you- or was it possible that it didn’t mean that much to him?

Still, that orgasm he gave you was the best you have had in a long time. So if it was only for the night, then let it be. You could still get a good time out of it, and you would not let your mind ruin this.

Luckily for you too, Tom’s kisses made you shut off your thoughts reasonably quickly. It wouldn’t even matter if the world had been ending.

But kissing could only get you so far. And he clearly had the same thought. Panting, his hot breath hitting your neck, he asked you.

“Are you ready for this, babe?” You nodded. “I need to hear it, please.”

“Yes. Just fuck me already.”

“Perfect.” with a peck on the cheek, he let go of you and let you slip off his lap. He got off the bed. You sat on your knees, hands next to your legs, looking at him in anticipation. It was insane how he had managed to eat you out while his cock was rock hard. You could see the outline of it through his underwear, leaving nothing, but really nothing, to the imagination.

You watched him do a little jiggle, making you laugh, before taking the band off his boxer shorts and pulling it down. To say your mouth started to water, would sound ridiculous, but you weren’t so far from that state. He wasn’t too long, or too thick, you didn’t expect it to be anyway, but it looked just right to send you over into another dimension. There was that one vein going along his shaft that you couldn’t get enough of. Unconsciously, you were moving over to the edge of the bed. Just seeing him completely naked in front of you, send your mind into a frenzy. It was a magnificent view.

What couldn’t go unnoticed was how red the tip had gone, from pure arousal and frustration that he needed to relieve. How badly you wanted to help him. You moved closer to the bed end, he took a step closer to you. He had his hand on his cock but didn’t move a muscle. If he did, you thought, he might have exploded right there in the spot. And what would be the fun in that?

“Fuck,” he groaned, standing in front of you. “You look so fucking perfect on your knees.”

You didn’t say anything, just smiled. The energy was coming back into your body, slowly, and you could feel getting that independence back that Tom had so rudely taken away from you. So, without saying anything, you took him in your hand and started to move up and down, not breaking eye contact, well, until Tom’s head rolled back. You couldn’t blame him.

You kept on stroking him, steadily, leaving kisses every few seconds on his tip. The pre-cum started leaking almost instantaneously, which you gladly used to spread all over his tip, making it much easier to move your hand around. Your kisses in the meantime got sloppier each time, longer. Until you were basically just kitten licking that vein that was taunting you before.

The sounds that were coming from Tom were adding to the whole experience in the best way. His moans and grunts were sending you to the edge, so far that you couldn’t help but let your free hand wander down and rub your clit. And it didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

“Even when sucking my dick, you need more, huh?” He asked as he looked down, right when you had finally put the tip in your mouth, twirling your tongue around it. The fact that you tried to look up into his eyes all innocent like should have sent him flying from laughter, but instead, he put his hand on your head and softly started to stroke your hair.

“Thought so,” he grunted. His hand stayed in your hair as you let your jaw slack and you made your way down his shaft, all the way till you could feel him touch the back of your throat. His grip got tighter, he didn’t move anything, but you just felt him grab your hair in his fist. Just enough to tell you to move without hurting you. He would have probably said it in words, but when you looked up, you saw how twisted his face was in pure delight.

You started to move in a paced way, but eventually, it felt too slow for Tom. That hand in your hair came to final use as he began to guide your movement. Letting you practically choke on him every time he moved up with the tempo. You felt the tears coming again as the drool fell from your mouth. You were an absolute mess, but it didn’t bother you one bit.

He kept going, fucking your mouth just like he had promised on the couch earlier.

“You know,” he said between pants, “As much as I’d love to cum in your mouth-” he hissed in pleasure when he hit the back of your throat again. “I swear the things you do to me, darling.”

He let go of you and pulled out. You gasped for air, finally having a free passage of air to come through to your lungs. Tom wiped some of the drool from your mouth before leaning in to kiss you. He closed you in by placing his arm next to you and slowly let you fall on your back again.

“Jesus,” he panted after the kiss. He looked at your mouth before gazing into your eyes again. You couldn’t imagine that it looked great, with your makeup completely smudged, but he smiled. “Would it be crazy to say that I love you right now?”

“I’ve heard crazier,” you said back, also out of breath.

“Oh yeah?”

You just shrugged. He let out an airy laugh that you could feel against your face. You closed your eyes, just for a second, to enjoy the moment. This small speck of time in the universe, where it was only you and him, where nothing else mattered. Just two strangers having a great time. Would there be more after this? Who was to say? It didn’t matter. Not to you, at least.

The little moment was ruined when you heard him curse. Suddenly the weight of the bed shifted, as he moved from hovering on top of you. You opened your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He was already on the side of the bed, leaning out to reach the drawer of the bedside table.

“Condom,” he muttered out, still trying to reach it. Not that he could just move up a bit and slide the thing open with ease. He liked feeling you underneath him. And you did too.

Finally, he managed to open the drawer and had to move up a bit to reach into it. You could hear his patting on the wood, but there was no sound of packaging.

“Fuck, wait a second.” He got up with a small jump and ran off, leaving you basically naked and alone on the bed. You sat and finally took off your panties. It was no surprise that they were completely soaked. You threw them on the ground next to your bra.

The drawer was still open, and you bit your lip at the thought of looking inside it. You could tell a lot by a person’s bedside table. And it was already open… just a peek wouldn’t hurt? Right?

You moved closer to the table and leaned in to look. There was not much inside-just a charger, a book (but it was too dark in the room to read the small print of the title), a glasses case and a small notebook and pen. On the notebook, you saw scratched “WS”. Winter Solstice? Was it possibly lyrics? You didn’t go as far as going into that.

As you had been looking, you could hear him rummaging through stuff in the room next door, the bathroom.

Having seen everything there was to see in the drawer, you decided to just lie down on the bed, looking for a comfortable position, but also something that Tom would enjoy seeing when he walked into the room. Right then, the door opened, and Tom walked in. His one hand over his crotch and the other holding a box of condoms.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find them at first, turned out they were- fuck.” He was looking at the box and hadn’t seen you lying there immediately. When he finally did, he almost dropped the condoms, only catching them with his other hand at the last second.

“You think you can get on your knees for me, darling?”

“I can try,” you shrugged, already turning around. You could hear him curse to himself as he saw you sit there. Then the ripping off the wrapper. He was taking his time for sure, which you didn’t really mind. You just weren’t really sure if your arms would be able to hold yourself up. You could already feel them shaking.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I, love?” You felt his cold hand on your ass, squeezing and kneading gently.

“Yeah, I guess so-Ah,” you moaned as he slapped the spot he had been so gentle with just a second before. At that touch, your left arm gave in, and you lost balance, falling with your face into the blanket. The nicely made up bed now only smelled of sweat and sex and you really weren’t mad at it.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he groaned, pulling you in by your waist, so your back was against his chest. You yelped out at the sudden movement and looked over your shoulder to look at his face. He was looking down at your chest. Hard nipples begging for attention from his hands and then they finally got it. As he kissed your shoulder, he started to play carefully pull at them, making sure your reaction was nothing but good. He got what he looked for when your hand reached out for his while you moaned.

Then there was that cock of his, between your legs at this point, teasing you. Tom let go of your chest, allowing you to replace it with your own hand. You tried to ignore the tickling sensation as his fingers danced over your naked body, moving down to your legs. He grabbed his shaft and, for worst or best, slapped your pussy with it.

“Tommm,” you whined, just needing to feel him inside you.

“Alright, sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.” He kissed your neck as he finally slid into you. Those two feelings together made you roll your eyes so far back you thought you had gone blind for a moment. He spread your walls and filled you up perfectly, like the strangest fucking puzzle. You reached up to grab his hair again. There was just something about it, how it was so messy and you were the cause of it, that turned you on. And by the way, he smiled as you tugged at it, you could tell he loved it as well.

Tom kept on pounding into you at this perfect rhythm, to no surprise. You wouldn’t have expected anything less from a drummer. He was rough, deep, hitting every spot he needed to at just the right time. And with every thrust, you felt yourself getting closer. Already so sensitive from the previous orgasm and the way he had utterly destroyed your mouth, there was really not much you needed to get there again.

But it didn’t mean that he put in any less effort. Tom took each and every thrust with the precision you deserved. He kissed every inch of your skin available to his lips.

It didn’t take long for you to come undone again. The moans coming from your mouth were all he needed to get there too. The way he groaned into your ear as he came could have sent you going for another round, but your legs were shaking like crazy. If it wasn’t for the way he held you, you would have most definitely fallen.

His hand fell to your stomach, holding you tightly. Out of reflex, you reached out for it, intertwining your fingers. He pulled out of you. The sudden emptiness in you was the final straw for your legs to give up, your knees spread, making you slide down past Tom’s body a little. Heavy breathing from both of you filled the room—his chest against your back. Your heart beats mixing together into one.

He held you close to him until you could somewhat control your breathing. He sat down and carefully put you down so you could lay down on the bed. You watched as he took off the condom and threw it into the small bin in the corner of the room. He grabbed his underwear and put it on quickly.

“Let’s get you something to wear, shall we,” he smiled at the sight of you lying in his bed, exhausted, naked, with the most sheepish smile on your face. You nodded, expecting him to grab the sweater from the living room, but instead, he opened the closet and took a shirt that was folded on the top shelf. He sat down on the bed and helped you sit up as you got the shirt over your head.

You noticed it was another Winter Solstice shirt, but it had a different design on it. It didn’t have that scratchy writing on it. Instead, the letters flowed smoothly into each other in an intricate cursive pattern. Underneath it, there was a sketch of a crescent moon.

“It’s a design we think about using if we do any other shows,” he explained before you could ask. “The other one was cheaper so we could get more.”

“I do hope you’ll play more shows,” you admitted as you lay down on the pillow. You thought he would join you, but instead, he got up. Clearly, he saw the panic in your face because he quickly explained: “I’m just gonna get you some water.”

“No, stay,” it came out a bit more whiny than you intended it to, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow but still sat down next to you. You patted the other pillow motioning for him to join you in the horizontal position, which he eventually did with pleasure. You scooted over to be closer. By doing so, though, the shirt moved up, only just covering your breast.

Tom put his hand on your side, tapping mindlessly, you focused on it, trying to figure out a pattern, but nothing came to mind. You put your arm under your head for some more support, and you looked at him while his eyes were on your body. He seemed to be deep in thought again, just like back on the couch before you started dancing. His tapping transformed into his fingers moving around over your skin in small shapes.

“You know,” he said, still drawing little pictures on your side, “I’d really hate for this to just be a one-night thing.” He looked up into your eyes.

“As long as you make me some more tea again, we’re good.” you leaned in to kiss him through each other's soft laughs. Of course, it wouldn’t be a one-time thing. You didn’t want it to be. You were completely hooked on him. Ever since you had seen him sitting at that bar. To think it was only a few hours ago.

The END

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed > please reblog and leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them >masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @captainpeggy40 @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @starkeybabie @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @perspectiveparker @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @spidey-reids-2003 @fallinfortom @chloecreatesfictions @londonspidey @hollandcreep @inlovewithmobtom

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #band!au #drummer!tom au #drummer!tom #au #strangers to lovers #not even gonna lie #i have a love hate relationship with writing smut #cause i love the content #but to write it #i want to punch myself in the face

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vvitchering · 3 years

Note

I love, LOVE, your writing! Would you be up for some hurt/comfort Gesekel? I'm a sucker for it, especially along the lines of Geralt thinking Eskel has died on the path but then he shows up with his grin and the whole "you should know better Wolf". 💜

I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing ;w; I write for you guys so getting feedback like this literally fuels me. I am also a sucker for hurt/comfort so you are absolutely in luck~

It’s never a pretty sight when he makes his way through settlements ravaged by the war. As Nilfgaard pushes ever northward, the people suffer. Geralt is used to carnage wrought by mindless creatures, but seeing the violence done by men to men makes his stomach turn. The bright side, if it can be called a bright side, is that with war comes death, and with death come monsters. War can be profitable for witchers, if there is coin left to be paid.

He’s just north of White Orchard, in one such town left ransacked and bloody by a skirmish. The notice board had been covered in desperate pleas for assistance with the encroaching necrophages, drawn in by the stench of blood and bodies. Ghouls and Algouls looking to make meals of the dead would quickly move on to living prey once the bodies were devoured. A witcher was needed. Geralt holds one of the contract offers in his hand as he talks to the barkeep at the town’s tavern, one of the only buildings left intact.

“Ghouls were a big problem, yeah, but you’re a bit late. Another witcher beat you to them, though that might be to your benefit.”

Geralt frowns. He doesn’t often encounter other witchers. They tend to stick to their own territories.

“And how is that to my benefit exactly.” Geralt asks, already mentally counting his losses. If this town was already clean, he had a week at least to go before he again encountered a settlement big enough to find work in.

The barkeep gives him a slightly sympathetic look.

“He drove out the flesh eaters, but they still got ‘im in the end. Poisonous bite, you know? Got ‘im right in the neck and it wasn’t long before he stopped moving. Real shame. Wasn’t a bad guy for a witcher, had a bit of good humor about 'im, even with that scarred face of his.”

Geralt’s heart speeds up despite himself. There are plenty of witchers with facial scars. It’s not him.

He asks the barkeep to describe the good humored witcher.

Brown hair, strong jaw, wide nose, and terrible scars that disfigured the side of his face and twisted his mouth.

Geralt’s blood chills in his veins. It’s not possible. No way he’d let something as mundane as a ghoul take him out.

“Friend of yours?” the barkeep asks.

Geralt is reeling, still trying to process the information, still finding loopholes, when the man reaches underneath the bar and produces a long thin object, wrapped in a white sheet.

“Was gonna try to sell it, but if he was your kin it’s rightfully yours.”

Any doubt Geralt was trying to hold onto vanishes as he pushes aside the sheet. It’s a witcher’s silver sword, adorned with runes as familiar as the ones on his own sword, and altered at the grip to be easier for larger hands to wrap around comfortably. It’s Eskel’s, unquestionably. And no witcher would let his silver out of his sight unless...

“Where.” Geralt bites out. “Where is he.”

“The body? Dragged ‘im to the old oak by the hill. Couldn’t spare the labor to bury ‘im, you understand, but it seemed the least we could do for his help.”

Geralt snatches Eskel’s sword from the bar and leaves as quickly as his feet can carry him. He leaves Roach tethered outside and takes off at a run toward the hill he can see by the edge of the town. It’s a mistake. It has to be. It can’t be, the evidence is in his hands, but it must be.

There’s a figure resting at the base of a huge oak that looms into view the closer he gets to the hill. It’s not him. It can’t be him.

Geralt skids to a stop. Falls to his knees in the dirt, the sword slipping from his hands to rest in front of him.

Eskel is splattered with dried but foul smelling blood and his armor is ripped and tattered. The townspeople must have arranged him in the dignified position he laid in; back straight, eyes closed, his steel sword resting on his chest. They’ve laid him to rest like they would a respected warrior, albeit one who they couldn’t spare the resources to bury or burn.

There’s a high pitched agonized whine coming from somewhere. It takes Geralt a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this day would come. No witcher ever died in his bed. But for it to be Eskel, already... They were both still young, by witcher standards, barely men, not even at their first hundred years. And Eskel was gone.

Distantly, Geralt registers that he’s crying. He feels lightheaded, like his soul is trying to escape and go somewhere else, like it can’t stand to exist in a reality where Eskel does not. Geralt shuffles forward on his knees until Eskel is close enough to touch. He bends over the fallen witcher and presses his face to his neck, searching for his scent, one last memory to hold onto.

Eskel’s lightning storm essence is there still, underneath the putrid stink of necrophage blood. Geralt breaths it in, greedy, desperate, tears dripping from his face to Eskel’s neck and leaving tracks in the filth there.

And then he hears it. A weak fluttering thud. A heartbeat. Geralt freezes, doesn’t even dare to breath, lest he destroy himself all over again with false hope.

A moment passes. Then another.

The dull thud sounds again.

He’s alive.

The relief is sudden and all consuming. Geralt collapses, curls around Eskel as best he can with all of their armor between them, and lets his sobs shake him apart. Eskel’s heart is slow, slower than even a witcher’s should be, and his chest doesn’t move at all for how shallow his breaths are, but he’s alive.

He’s alive.

Geralt tries to match his breaths to Eskel’s and finds himself slipping into meditation. Eskel is clearly on a deeper level than Geralt has ever experienced, if being handled and transported by humans and having his sword taken from him didn’t draw him out of the trance. Geralt drifts, exhausted by both his grief and his joy, and only stirs when he feels the pillow he’s made of Eskel’s chest shift under him.

Eskel groans and it’s the most beautiful sound Geralt has ever heard in his life. He sits up in a hurry and snakes a hand under Eskel’s neck to help the larger witcher sit up. His eyes are open and his pupils shrink and grow rapidly as he blinks and reorients himself. His gaze lands on Geralt and he smiles.

“Could’ve used you here a few days ago.”

His voice is rough and dry, but the deep tones are instantly comforting.

“You so far off your game you let a few ghouls turn you into a chew toy?” Geralt teases.

Eskel rolls his eyes and and moves to rotate his shoulder until it pops satisfyingly. He stretches his neck, producing a similar crack, and Geralt catches a glimpse of the half healed bite wound on Eskel’s neck. The barkeep’s story had been true, then. He brings a hand up to smooth down Eskel’s collar and lightly brush over the angry red skin. Eskel hisses and slaps his hand away.

“Gonna scar.” Eskel says gloomily. “I’ll never live it down.”

“You will. You’ll live.”

Geralt means it to sound light and humorous, but the look Eskel gives him says his joke didn’t quite land the way he’d hoped.

“I’m fine. It was just a ghoul. Got me in a hell of a shitty spot, but it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

“I know, its just...They told me you died. You looked dead. I couldn’t hear your heart.”

Eskel reaches up and slides his fingers through Geralt’s hair to cup the back of his head. He pulls lightly, bringing Geralt close enough to knock foreheads with him. It’s an action that they’d done since they were children at Kaer Morhen, their own special way of being close. Geralt can hear Eskel’s heart now, beating away strong and loud in his chest.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I really am fine.” Eskel says quietly, rubbing absently at Geralt’s scalp with the hand buried in the white strands.

Geralt leans into the pressure for a moment and then pulls away, clearing his throat after the emotional display.

“Don’t fucking do it again.” Geralt says, feigning annoyance.

Eskel laughs and Geralt once again has a new favorite sound.

“Yeah, sure, Wolf. I’ll do my best.”

*~*

:’) well that certainly got away from me. I hope this makes up for how long it took me to answer!!

#prompt fill #eskel/geralt #geskel #eskralt #the witcher #mine #my fic #ANYWAY HERE'S THIS

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hxbbit · 4 years

Text

Playing With Fire (Rafael Casal x Reader)

Words: ~6.4k

Warnings: Pure, unadulterated filth. bdsm themes (dom!rafa), swearing, alcohol

Summary: While attending a wedding, you decided to tease Rafael a little too much. And he decides you need to be punished because of it.

I don’t know what happened, and how it happened, but it’s here. And I’m so excited and I hope you like it, too. Special thanks to @braidedchallah for making me write this and hyping me up lmao

“Can you zip me up?” You asked as you walked towards the bathroom, holding up your dress with your hands. Rafael was standing in front of the mirror, perfecting his hair.

“Sure,” he said and you turned your back towards him and he quickly pulled up the zipper. He leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder and then turned you back around to look at him.

Fuck, you only thought. Obviously Rafa looked good in everything he wore, but today he looked especially hot. He wore that suit with the black and white patterned jacket and the solid black lapels and black dress pants. He added his thick gold chain under the collar of his white shirt, so it mostly just peaked out in the middle as well as wearing gold rings on both his pinky fingers. The hair that had grown out a bit was carefully styled back in a pretty sleek look and his beard was trimmed to perfection.

“Like what you’re seeing?” He asked cockily with a grin, obviously noticing your staring.

“Definitely, my boyfriend is hot as hell,” you said, stepping closer and running your hand over his chest.

“Yeah? Well, my girlfriend is pretty hot, too,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you slowly, his hands moving to squeeze your ass.

“I want you to fuck me tonight while you’re wearing that suit,” you whispered against his lips and then kissed him again.

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” he whispered back, pinching your butt cheek, making you jump with a squeak and then you let out a giggle.

“We have to leave now, though or otherwise we’ll be late for the ceremony.” Rafa ushered you out of the bathroom and you both got ready to leave.

The uber was already waiting outside when you stepped out of Rafael’s place. You would both be drinking tonight, so you decided not to drive yourselves.

You both got into the car, making sure you had the gift and everything else you needed with you and then you were being driven to the location of Anthony and Jasmine’s wedding.

There was already a big crowd of people when you arrived, a lot of them you knew, since you had a lot of mutual friends, but some were family or friends of theirs you weren’t familiar with. You looked around, everything was decorated so beautifully with white flowers and great attention to detail. At the front there was an arch where the bride and groom would stand when the ceremony was held and then countless rows of chairs in the grass for all the guests.

Almost immediately you also spotted Daveed, chatting to some people. You knew that Emmy was a bridesmaid, so she was probably off helping Jaz get ready.

You dropped off the present on the table with all the others and then Rafa and you made a beeline towards Daveed.

Diggs wore a dark purple checkered suit, it was relatively tame compared to what he usually wore, probably not wanting to draw too much attention, but still enough to stand out between the other simple black suits.

“Yo, Diggs,” Rafael shouted at him before he reached him, a big boyish grin on his face, making him turn around and then they hugged each other. You knew that they hadn’t seen one other in a while, Daveed having been off filming the second season of Snowpiercer, so they had a lot of catching up to do.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s it going,” Daveed then turned to you, hugging you tightly as well.

“It’s going well,” you smiled brightly at him. “How’s shooting going?”

“We’re a little behind, but it’s gonna be good.”

You were about to say something else when a woman at the front by the arch asked all of the guests to please take a seat.

The ceremony was absolutely beautiful and made you tear up a bit and when Rafa saw that you had tears in your eyes, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close to his side, kissing the top of your head.

And once it was over, the celebration began. And oh, what a party it was. The people were only really seated when the food was served, otherwise they were dancing and drinking, celebrating the newlyweds.

You also had a couple of glasses of champagne. You wanted to dance but Rafa was busy talking to Daveed. You talked to some other people and danced with some of the girls you knew, but you wanted to dance with Rafa. Craving attention, you were sitting down next to him as he was still chatting to Daveed and you couldn’t help but place your hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb back and forth slightly. But he didn’t react to that in the slightest, used to your casual affection, so instead you slid your hand further up his thigh, straddling the line of indecent hand placement, yet still no reaction. You went up a tiny bit further. That’s when his hand suddenly, yet subtly, grabbed your hand, holding it in place as he kept on talking to Diggs as if nothing was happening.

A few minutes later, Diggs excused himself, Emmy wanting to dance with him, when Rafa turned towards you. A dangerous glint in his eye.

“Behave,” he only said and that single word alone stirred something inside of you.

“Dance with me,” you then whined and he finally indulged you, pulling you up and dragging you to the dance floor where he spun your around for a few songs.

After a couple of dances, a slow song was played and Rafa pulled you close against his chest. You had a smile on your face as you swayed back and forth together and having him so close to you in that moment made all sorts of thoughts run through your head. You moved so your lips were right against his ear.

“I want you so bad right now,” you whispered quietly, so no one would hear you.

“How about we find a secluded little corner and you can make good on your promise a little early? I mean, why wait until we’re back at home again?” You said with a mischievous grin on your lips. You could hear a soft groan come from Rafael and you could swear that you already felt his semi-hard cock press against you, the thought of ravaging you in public turning him on.

“They’re about to do the speeches,” he replied, not giving you the answer you wanted.

“So what?” You asked back, now pressing a kiss to his neck, right underneath his ear and then also nibbling on it a little, Rafa letting out a heavy breath.

“So you know I have to be here because Jaz asked me to say a few words.”

You obviously knew that Rafa had prepared to say something, but that didn’t mean that you were going to make it easy on him.

“If that’s the case, then I’d better find myself someone else to entertain me during all of the boring speeches,” you moved back a bit so Rafa could look at you as you said that, seeing the teasing and provocative look in your eyes as you raised one brow at him.

“If you’d rather be ‘entertained’ by someone than be satisfied by me then go right ahead, baby. But we both know that no one else can give you what I give you,” he said with a cocky tone to his voice and while you knew that he was right, you were still up for the challenge.

The game was on. You got a special kind of satisfaction from teasing Rafael, trying to push his buttons, because you knew that what came after, was always mind blowing - for both of you. You both also knew that it was all in good fun and you weren’t actually trying to make him jealous for nefarious reasons.

So once the dance was over and you were sitting back down at the table with all the others, because the speeches were about to start, you let your eyes wander over the crowd, looking for a potential candidate to get close to. You saw an objectively attractive guy sit at one of the tables that was mostly just old friends of Anthony’s that you didn’t know. Which was perfect. That way he didn’t know you or Rafa or that you were together.

You waited until the speeches were over, obviously you wanted to hear what Rafa had written and how he made the crowd laugh, but afterwards you got up and moved through the room. Rafa spotted you and you only gave him a wink, before you made your way over to the guy that you had set your eyes on perviously. And once you reached him, you didn’t hesitate chatting him up, starting a friendly and flirty conversation. You felt a little sorry for him, only being a pawn in yours and Rafa’s game, but you didn’t feel quite sorry enough to stop.

Ben, you learned, was and old college friend of Anthony’s and on top of that quite receptive to your advances.

You went to the bar together, got some drinks and then chatted. You glanced over to where Rafa was standing and talking to some people but you saw that his eyes were on you. You made sure to touch Ben a little, only a hand on his arm or chest, nothing too much. But when he then got a little more comfortable and put one hand on your waist, moving closer towards you, Rafael was suddenly next to you.

“Hey, baby, there you are,” he said and Ben immediately retracted his hand from your body, stepping back and Rafa didn’t even look at him, instead he leaned down to kiss you, pulling you close to him, making sure that the other guy knew that you were his.

And oh, possessive Rafa always turned you on.

“I should get back to the others,” Ben then spoke quietly and quickly disappeared, obviously having understood the very obvious hint.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, kissing you again.

“I know, but don’t pretend like you’re not loving it,” you said in return, pecking him on the lips once more.

The rest of the night was spent dancing, laughing and drinking and eventually you and Rafa both decided to head home. You said your goodbyes to everyone. By now you had taken off your high heels, feet aching, carrying them in your hands to the uber you had ordered, holding Rafa’s hand in the other. And when you got into the car, you leaned your head against his shoulder, still holding his hand until you arrived back at home.

Mia was not at home, you had placed her in the loving care of a friend for the night so she wouldn’t be alone while you were out all day and night, so there was no one to greet you when you came home.

You were barely through the door of your apartment, dropping your shoes by the door, when Rafa turned around, looking at you while he undid the top button of his dress shirt.

“Take off that dress and get on your knees,” he said in a voice that you knew all too well. It was the voice he used when he didn’t want any talk-back or arguments. The voice he used when he wanted you to say ‘Yes, Sir’, ‘Please, Sir’ and ‘Whatever you want, Sir’. And it was the voice that made you immediately wet whenever he used it on you.

While it took you a little by surprise, excitement still rushed through your body as you reached around to your back to undo the zipper of the dress - thank God it was easier to open than zipping it up - before you then proceeded to take it off completely, letting it pool around your ankles on the floor. You took one step forward, one step closer towards him, and then sank down on your knees, only in your matching bra and thong now. Clasping your hands together in your lap, you looked up at him through your lashes with faked innocence, trying to hide your excitement.

But as you looked up Rafa’s body, you could definitely see his excitement, straining against his black slacks. It made your mouth water.

He took two steps, so he was directly in front of you now, you had to lean your head back into your neck to look up at him. The tension in the room and between Rafa and you was electrifying, not knowing what he had planned for you, but knowing that you were going to love it either way.

Rafa placed one of his hands on your cheek, gentle and soft, thumb rubbing over your skin.

“Did you have fun today?” He asked and at first you were a little taken aback by that question. But it was a nice day and you had a lot of fun, the wedding was beautiful and being with all your friends and Rafa made you very happy.

“Yes, Sir,” you then replied with a little nod.

“Well, I hope it was worth it, because I’m gonna have to punish you now.” Rafa moved his hand slightly so it was under your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“See, I was going to take you home tonight and fuck you nice and well, just like you asked me to, make you cum at least three times until you screamed out my name… But you had to be an impatient little brat. Teasing me, trying to make me jealous. You know I need to punish your for that,” he said and he almost looked sympathetic, as if he didn’t really want to punish you, but you both knew that that was not the case. Rafa was going to enjoy punishing you very, very much.

Rafa’s thumb was still on your lip and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue out to give the pad of it a little lick, wanting to taste him.

“Oh, that’s how you wanna play it?” He asked with a scoff, pushing his thumb past your lips and pressing down on your tongue slightly. You immediately started sucking on it, hollowing your cheeks and letting your tongue swirl around his digit.

“God, look at you, you’re such a little slut.” He let you continue to suck on his thumb like that as if it were his cock.

“I was only going to spank your ass until it’s red and raw, but now I’m thinking I’m going to have to fuck that pretty little mouth first, make you gag on my cock and have you swallow all of my cum,” Rafa mused and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the prospect of having him fuck your face made heat spread throughout all of your body.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and then opened the button and zipper of his pants as you watched him intently and once he had freed his member from his boxer briefs, you licked your lips almost unintentionally. He held his hard and thick cock in his hand and guided it towards your mouth, rubbing the head over your spit-slick lips that also still had remnants of your lipstick on it. You raised your hands to reach for it, wanting to wrap your fingers around him, when Rafa suddenly pulled back a little.

“No hands. I get to decide how hard and deep I fuck your mouth. Disobedient little brats like you don’t get to have a say in that,” he said before he put his tip back to your lips. “Now open that mouth for me.”

You did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him slide in, loving the taste of him and the feel of the velvety skin on your tongue. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, gathering your hair, holding you steady for now as he slowly started thrusting into you. He started out slow at first, letting you move your tongue around his cock just as you had done minutes ago to his thumb. Then he pushed in deep once, agonizingly slow, making you feel every inch of him as he slid down your throat. It almost made you gag, but you managed to relax your throat and take him deeper, swallowing him down until he was completely inside of you, the tip of your nose touching his pelvis.

“Just like that,” he breathed out, suppressing a moan as he pushed you down just a little bit further. “Put your whore mouth to good use for once.”

You tried pushing your luck a little by moaning around him, it was obviously stifled by his cock, but you knew that he would feel the vibrations of it. And the moan he let out in return told you that he definitely did. He pulled his cock out, letting you breathe again, but only for a second before he slammed back in and this time he set a bruising pace.

The grip in your hair tightened and he grabbed your chin with the other hand and pulled your head against him every time he thrusted into you, making you take him deep with every move and making you stay in place. At this point you couldn’t even really wrap your lips around him anymore as he was just fucking your throat sloppily, gagging, spit starting to drool down your chin and tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Your hands were balled into fists, but still resting on your thighs, wanting so badly to touch him, but wanting to be good for him and obey his orders.

By now, the tears were rolling over your cheeks freely, not only from the way he fucked your face but also from the frustration of wanting to touch him, letting out a whine as he kept on thrusting into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” he panted between heavy breaths and moans.

“I want you to swallow every drop of my cum,” he said, stilling for a second as he was deep inside you, so you could hum your agreement.

“Gonna put my cock so far down your throat and make you swallow it, if you want to or not,” he continued, as he kept on moving again, a slower pace, but each thrust deep and forceful, making you gag around him some more. You wanted him to cum so bad, wanted to taste it, wanted to feel him cum down your throat, wanting to give him that sweet release.

Rafa thrusted into you once, twice and a third time before he came with a low groan. And just like he promised, he pushed his cock down deep, you took him down as far as you could once more, his hand moving down your throat to feel himself inside of you and then he released his load, hot ropes of salty cum spurting down your throat, swallowing it all down and starting to feel a little light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he finally pulled back and out of your mouth completely, leaving you breathing heavily.

You finally unclenched your fists and raised one hand to wipe away the spit from your chin, you looked up at Rafa, his chest was heaving and he was looking down at you with a satisfied smile on his lips. His hands found your cheeks and wiped away the tears.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he said, voice soothing and it made you smile, to know that he was happy with you, that you pleased him.

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied, voice a little hoarse.

He tucked himself back into his pants and then helped you up and only in that moment did you realize how bad your knees hurt from kneeling on the hard floor. He leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you tried to deepen it, but Rafa moved back, always leaving you wanting more. Instead he slid one hand between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and letting one probing finger move through your slit, feeling the obvious wetness that had gathered there. You already let out a moan at that, even though he barely even touched you.

“Oh, baby, it’s not a punishment if it turns you on this much.” He almost sounded scolding, with the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. He obviously enjoyed it and liked how you got off on being used by him like that.

“You know I’m still going to have to spank you, right?” He asked with a sadistic smile on his face, you only nodded.

“And if you’re a good little slut, I might even let you cum.”

Rafa pulled his hand from between your legs.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he then said, taking your hand and leading you towards it.

Rafa took off the suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then sitting down at the edge of the bed. You watched as he did all that, and then stood in front of him.

“How many spanks do you think you deserve for the shit you pulled tonight?” He asked, head tilted to the side as his eyes were wandering over your body, taking in your form.

You thought for a second.

“Twenty?” You asked, unsure.

“Twenty?” Rafael scoffed a little. “I was thinking more like thirty. I think that’s more in line of what you deserve,” he explained to you and you only nodded wide eyed, swallowing hard.

“Get on my lap then,” he said and you moved to lay across his lap, the rest of your body resting on the bed. Rafa immediately put a hand on your ass, moving it across your skin, softly.

“What’s your safe word, baby?” He asked, he obviously knew it, but he wanted to make sure that you remembered it and that you would actually use it if you needed to.

“Red,” you replied with a smile, craning your neck to look back at him.

“I want you to thank me for each hit. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” you said and that earned you your first spank on your right ass cheek, taking you by surprise and making you jump a little.

“Yes, what?” He asked with a sharpness.

“Yes, Sir.” You said. “And thank you, Sir,” you immediately added.

“I think you need reminding who you belong to. The way you pranced around tonight, like a whore, offering yourself up…” He said before delivering another slap that stung, surely already leaving a red print of his hand on your ass.

“Thank you, Sir,” you quickly said.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked with another slap.

“Thank you. I belong to you, Sir. Only to you,” you whined out desperately from the pain but also from the pleasure. Rafa claiming you as his and you declaring yourself to belong to him always did something to you. It made your heart swell and your insides tighten in the best way possible, making wetness pool between your legs and you were sure you were practically dripping by now.

“That’s right. You’re mine.” Another slap.

Again you thanked him and then he proceeded to spank each cheek multiple times, alternating between them, not adhering to a pattern to keep you on your toes, until the flesh was burning and sensitive and probably glowing bright red. Your hands were fisting the blankets by now, clenching them tightly, needing to hold on to something, something you could focus your pain on.

You didn’t count, having lost track in your lust and pain-riddled haze quite quickly, so when he stopped to spread your legs a little more and his fingers found your dripping core, you assumed that that must have been it, letting out a quiet breath of relief. But then he removed his fingers again and instead brought his flat hand down again in another slap right to your clitoris, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your clit was swollen and sensitive from arousal and while you wanted to be touched there, it was too much, way too much and way too sudden. Tears started prickling in your eyes, overwhelmed with the sensation and you barely managed to remember to thank him.

“Only three more, baby, you can do it,” he then said, seemingly sensing you teeter on the edge of your limit.

It took all your willpower to keep your legs spread for him. The urge to just clench them closely together to deny him access was strong. But you so desperately wanted to be good for him, wanted to take the punishment you deserved.

And he delivered those last three slaps one after another, with no break to let you catch your breath and it made you cry out and the tears fell from your eyes.

Still you managed to mutter your thanks on a shaky breath.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you sniffled quietly, trying to hold back sobs.

That’s when Rafa pulled you up and against him, making you straddle his lap, holding you close.

“It’s over. It’s over, baby, you were so good, so perfect for me,” he whispered soothingly into your ear. His hands moved down to your butt to rub over the reddened, burning skin most gently with his hands.

“I love you,” Rafa muttered, placing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, voice still a little shaky, but becoming more steady again. You pulled back from him slightly to look at him and he had a look of pure adoration on his face. You gave him a little smile and then kissed him and Rafa almost immediately licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss, entangling his tongue with yours.

He slowly slid one of his hands from your ass over your hip and down to the front between your legs where he found you still completely soaking wet, pushing your panties to the side once more, he then finally gave you the attention you needed, circling your clit with his fingertips. You were so sensitive, not just from the arousal, but also from his punishment. And right now, his fingers felt like heaven and it had you moaning into his mouth right away.

But you also needed more, wanting to be filled up by him.

“Please, need you inside me,” you said, your lips so close to his they were touching as you spoke. Rafa didn’t hesitate and decided to indulge you by pushing two fingers inside of you, making you sigh out, eyes fluttering shut, giving yourself to the pleasure.

He started pumping his fingers in and out of you, but you needed more and couldn’t sit still and started grinding your hips down on him. You had your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers,” he said, making you open your eyes again.

“You’re such a little slut.”

“I’m your little slut,” you said with a wicked grin, which pulled a smile from him as well.

He pushed another finger into you and the slight stretch was exactly what you needed, he then also started massaging your clit with his thumb. Those combined sensations made heat build up low in your stomach and a knot of pure pleasure forming.

Your nails started to dig into his crisp white shirt and the skin underneath it, starting to breathe heavier. Rafa used his other hand to pull your bra down to expose your breasts, attaching his mouth to your hard nipples, first one, then other, but giving them the same treatment of biting and pulling and sucking.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” Rafa then said, knowing that you were nearing your climax. He didn’t make it easy on you, though, curling his fingers now so they hit that spot inside of you precisely and perfectly, making your breath hitch.

“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, knitting your eyebrows together and squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure grew, trying desperately to hold it back and hold out until Rafa allowed it.

“Look at me, baby,” he said and you opened your eyes again, looking at him.

“I want you to look at me when you cum.”

“Please,” you whined. “Wanna cum. Need to cum,” you begged breathlessly.

“Just a little longer,” he replied with a smirk. He enjoyed this a little too much, seeing you squirm and beg for release. You bit your bottom lip, still riding his fingers though, keeping yourself achingly close to the edge.

“Okay, baby, let go. Cum for me,” he finally gave you permission and you were so grateful because you wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer. Your orgasm crashing through you, your entire body tensing up as the pleasure moved through your body in waves, toes curling, before you then felt weak and like you were close to falling apart. Your walls clenching around his fingers.

But Rafa didn’t let off, he kept the same pace, fucking you with his fingers and still rubbing your now overly sensitive clit.

“Too much,” you breathed out, but you weren’t quite sure that was true, because while it felt like too much on the surface, below you could feel another orgasm already building, dangerously close to breaking through.

“I promised you at least three orgasms and I intend to keep that promise,” he said, sounding very confident. And he had every right to be confident, because he knew your body, better than yourself sometimes, and he knew that you had some more orgasms in you that he was fully intending to coax out.

“Come on,” he said. “I know you can do it.”

Rafa started peppering your neck with kisses, from your jaw down, leaving the occasional dark purple mark by nipping and sucking, and once he reached the junction of where your neck met your shoulder, he suddenly bit into the soft flesh hard. And that pain took you by surprise, triggering your orgasm unexpectedly. Making you gasp out and moan while he kept on fingering you, until that second orgasm slowly subsided, too.

His movements slowed down and then he pulled his fingers out of you, making you feel very empty, but also feeling relieved at the short break that gave you time to catch your breath.

You watched him lift the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth and lick them clean, moaning at the taste of you.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he told you once his fingers were clean of your juices.

You leaned in to kiss Rafa, you could taste yourself faintly on his lips and while you kissed, he reached behind your back and opened your bra, making you take it off completely.

You wanted more of him now, too, so your fingers found the little buttons of his shirt and started unbuttoning them and once it was completely open, you pushed it off his shoulders and then let your hands roam over his chest, which was only adorned by his gold necklace now. You broke the kiss to look at his tattoo, fingertips trailing over the letters on his left pectoral. Rafael knew that you had a thing for his tattoos, tracing them with your fingers or your lips any chance you got and this time was no different, placing a kiss on the capital letter I.

“Need to fuck you, babe,” Rafa then whispered and you looked back up at him.

“How do you want me?” You asked, biting your lip. Taking a quick glance between your bodies to see that he was obviously already hard again.

“On all fours.”

You got up from his lap, legs still feeling a little weak from the orgasms, and then you first got rid of your panties before getting onto the bed, positioning yourself in the middle of it, just how Rafa had ordered. He had gotten up from the bed, too and rid himself of the rest of his clothes. You felt the mattress dip when he kneeled on the bed behind of you, his hands finding your ass and smoothing them over the still slightly red and sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like that. On all fours, ass red, waiting for me to fuck you,” he said as his fingers found your pussy once more.

And when he then replaced his fingers with the tip of his thick cock at your entrance, you were more than ready for him, needing his hard cock inside of you. You wanted to move your hips back, trying to get him to enter you, to get him deeper, but you decided to hold still, even if the anticipation was almost killing you. You knew that Rafa would appreciate it, you behaving.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock?” He said, wanting to hear you beg for it.

“So badly, want you inside me. Want you to fill me up and have you deep inside of me. I want you to fuck me hard, Sir. Please,” you then said, desperation lacing your voice. Having Rafa inside you felt like nothing else. You were addicted to the feeling and right now you were craving your next fix.

“Now, how can I say no to that?”

You didn’t turn around, but you could vividly imagine the smirk that Rafa probably had on his face right now.

Slowly, achingly slow, Rafa sank his hard member inside of you, stretching you slightly, making you sigh out in pleasure. Once he was completely sheathed inside of you, he stopped, before pulling out again almost entirely in the same pace, torturing you with it, teasing you. You just wanted him to fuck you, to pound hard into you, and he knew that.

“Rafa, please,” you whined out, needing more, but suddenly he stilled his movement completely.

“What did you just call me?”

“Sir, sorry! I’m sorry! I just- I just want you to fuck me, please,” you all but begged now.

“Oh, you want to be fucked like the whore you are?” He asked.

“Yes, yes, please,” you replied.

Suddenly you felt his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down forcefully against the mattress and then he leaned over you, taking your hands and gathering your wrists together behind your back. That way your cheek and your chest were pressed flush against the bed, no way to hold yourself up anymore.

Rafa liked restraining you like that. Sure he enjoyed tying you up a lot, too, but there was something about holding your hands like that with his own that he especially liked. Having that physical power over you, being the actual thing that holds you down instead of ropes or his belt.

“Act like a whore, get fucked like a whore,” he said as he entered you again with a hard thrust, making you gasp. “But then again, you like that, don’t you?”

“Love it,” you moaned out as he repeated the action.

And then, Rafa just started fucking you. Just how you wanted him to, how you needed him to.

Hard and fast, making you moan and breathe heavily in an instant.

Rafael knew exactly how to fuck you to make you cum from penetration alone and he was doing just that, keeping his rhythm steady and deep and at just the right angle to hit your g-spot on every thrust. It had you on edge in no time, but you knew that you needed to wait, hold on a little longer. And Rafa made you wait, made you bite back and hold back your orgasm as he kept on rutting into you, grip still tight and borderline painful on your wrists.

“I’m close,” he then finally said between heavy breaths.

“Me too,” you said, but you were sure he already knew by the way you tightened around him and how your body tensed up.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock,” he then finally pressed out as he thrusted into you one last time and released himself inside of you. And you came too, when you felt his warm cum deep inside your pussy, as you were clenching around him until you had milked him of every drop, while moans of pure pleasure spilled from your lips.

“Fuck, baby.” Rafa was breathing heavily, letting go of your wrists. You pulled your arms to the front, alleviating the ache in your shoulders from the position he had held you in.

He then also slowly pulled out of you.

“Stay like that, gonna clean you up,” he said, getting up off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. You couldn’t stay like that, though, no energy left to hold yourself up. Instead you moved so you were laying flat on your belly, needing to relax your body.

You could feel the cum slowly dripping out of your pussy, but Rafa was already back again with a wet wash cloth to clean you up. You flinched a little when he moved it through your folds because you were so sensitive, which made him chuckle in return. And once he was done with that, he took out some lotion from the nightstand and rubbed it on your butt, cooling and soothing the skin.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the bed, a dopey, satisfied smile on your face.

“No, thank you. You were fucking perfect tonight,” he said, laying down next to you and pulling you into him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, taking one of your wrists into his hands and massaging it slightly.

“So good.” You couldn’t think properly, mind still in a haze from the multiple orgasms, your body limp. All you knew was that you felt good.

“Want me to run you a bath?”

You shook your head at that. It was late. You didn’t know how late exactly, but all you wanted to do now was cuddle and then sleep, so you told him that, snuggling closer into him as he pulled the covers over you both.

“Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to be with you,” he said softly, before he moved so he could kiss you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” you replied, connecting your lips to his once more before you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

#rafael casal #rafael casal x reader #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal/reader #daveed diggs #blindspotting #hamilton #rafael casal smut #daveed diggs x reader

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #6

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A/N: 1 word, 5 letters: D R A M A

Pls peep the vote at the end! I know there are not very many of you who read this so I want to make it enjoyable for y’all 🥰 it’s sooo important to me that I write what makes me happy

OUTTAKE 5 WAS POSTED HOURS BEFORE THIS ONE SO CHECK IT !

‼️THIS IS THE 10TH PART IN A SERIES READ THE OTHER PARTS BEFORE THIS ONE: ‼️

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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Hours After You Noticed Aone For The First Time And Had Lunch Together! 🤫🥩

With a very discreet bounce in his step, Aone Takanobu walked into the Date Tech boys volleyball team changeroom after exchanging numbers with you after school.

“AONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Upon entrance, the entire team jumped him, tackling him to the ground while shouting praise and acclamations of joy loudly!

Aone was actually grinning, shoving the boys off of him to pretend that he was annoyed.

But anyone could tell that this mountain man was on cloud 9!!!!

Futakuchi reached out his hand to help Aone up and the mountain man took it. They shared a look that only Aone knew meant his best friend was happy for him. Proud of him.

Actually, Kenji’s look was one of happiness and pride, yes, but it was also full of nerves for his friend’s potential heartbreak. But Aone was too overjoyed inside to pick up on that.

“So Y/N finally knows your name!” Koganegawa yelled as he jumped on Aone’s back.

Shrugging the big boned setter off, Aone blushed. He has never been happier in his entire life and it was kind of embarrassing that the whole team knew why that was.

“I’m very happy.” Aone nodded at his team who smiled brilliantly back at him. “But please, do not get your hopes up. I’m trying with everything in me not to get mine up, in case Y/N decides she doesn’t like me. She and I are just going to start talking for now. And for that I am grateful.” Stomach in knots, Aone bowed to his team in thanks for all the encouragement and praise.

“But Aone-senpai, Y/N asked you to lunch! We all watched you guys, she looked ecstatic talking to you and she even glared at these other girls in the hallway because they were checking you out!”

Aone’s heart dropped. “She did?”

Kenji smiled, patting him on the back. “Saw it with my own eyes too, big guy.”

Aone felt like he was so happy he could sing, but he knew how odd that would look coming from such a big and serious guy like himself.

“Oh. Well... that’s quite nice.”

What a turn of events! This morning, Aone was going through another day with a heavy heart because the love of his life would never like him back. Then, it only took him defending you against the class snitch for everything to change......

✏️ Earlier That Day ✏️

Aone was sitting in class like any other day, doing his work, listening to the teacher intermittently and your daily conversation with your friends. The teacher excused himself to run a club errand for 20 minutes, trusting the class to stay quiet and complete their homework. Like most typical high school classes, the volume raised as soon as the teacher stepped out. Aone glanced over at your talkative self for the 15th time that period and noticed how much you were glowing because your team had returned last night placing second at Regionals. You looked radiant, absolutely stunning with your brighter smile and louder angelic laugh.

In Mountain Man’s daydream, he imagined telling you that you looked beautiful today followed by a congratulations for placing second. You would rush over to him and kiss him in thanks then start ripping his clothes off so that you could—

“Y/N! I am sick and tired of you and the rest of the popular kids not listening to the teachers instructions! What part of ‘stay quiet’ is hard to understand in that pea brain of yours!?!??!”

To Aone’s left, sitting in his row, he looked for the yelling voice. It was who everyone (except Aone) called ‘the class snitch’ and school mascot: Tsume Lian.

Also known as Y/N’s arch nemesis.

Seating looks like:

Y/N glared at him.

“Tsume, no one was talking to you.”

“I know that, dork!” He fumed. “BECAUSE WE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE TALKING! I’m trying to do my homework as asked, and you and the popular crowd just ignore everything the teacher says and it’s disgusting! I’m tired of it! I want you expelled!”

Aone noticed Y/N’s startled expression at the prospect of being expelled, because he knew from overhearing your conversations that your parents were this close to sending you to Seijoh to get your grades up and live on campus there. According to your gossip last week, if you failed another class or got another complaint from a teacher then your parents would under no circumstances allow you to cheer again.

Aone clenched his fists tightly around his pencil because he couldn’t stand the idea of seeing Motomu or Kindaichi drooling over you at his enemy school.

One of Y/N’s friends who Aone knew as Kusa, spoke up in defence of Y/N. “Oh shut it, Tsume. Us chatting isn’t bothering anyone else.”

“I don’t care! You cheerleaders think you can do anything you want and that’s that!! YOU WILL face repercussions if I can help it!”

Kusa feigned fear. She turned her entire body toward him in her seat, meaning business. A bitch had time today.

The entire class gave this drama all of their undivided attention when they witnessed that move, ready for the show like:

“Oh yeah?! And why are you just snapping about this now, huh? Why not before?” Kusa snapped. You put a hand on your friends arm, silently trying to tell her he isn’t worth her energy.

“Because I realized just how selfish, inconsiderate, and deplorable you good-looking, popular women are! You don’t deserve to be bowed down to like I thought! You should be treated like everybody else!”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N interjected. “No one treats us like that. Even if they did, we don’t ask them to nor do we ask to be popular and we especially don’t ask for special treatment, Lian. Why are you so mad??? Get your life.”

COLLECT HIMMMMMM 👏🏾👏🏾

Aone smirked to himself. In all his years of crushing on you he has never seen you look so fierce and he too put his pencil down to enjoy what was a different and fiery side of his crush. It made him want to fuck the shit out of you, you looked so sexy. Aone found he liked every side of you.

“I did have a life. I was a mascot and—“

“—And you were spending too much time looking up our SKIRTS instead of hyping up a CROWD, making the first years uncomfortable and borderline stalking Y/N so badly she asked that we terminate you! You are lucky she kept that to herself for so long! 🤬 And THAT’S why you’re mad!”

The class collectively gasped. Some whipped their phones out to snapchat the gossip. Aone widened his eyes in silence, since he was in between, he was looking back and forth at the fight like a tennis match.

Hahahaha 🎾

Live footage of the classes reaction when Kusa READ TSUME FOR FILTH:

Tsume went red with anger, but anyone could tell that he was guilty guilty guilty !!!!

“When the teacher returns, I’m telling him and the principal the truth that you Y/N are a bully and you constantly disrupt the class! Who do you think they’re going to believe?! Their best student? Or their worst?! Say hi to AobaJohsai summer school for me!”

You frowned, scared out of your mind because Lian was right. The teacher’s believed everything he had to say and ever since you exposed him for sending you creepy messages and inappropriate pictures from a fake account that you knew was his, the class snitch has had it out for you. Even if the cheerleaders had your back, your parents would just think they are trying to protect you and never believe it! Tsume Lian was smart and dead set on planning your demise. It was unfair. You wanted to cry. Kusa whispered something to you in encouragement but you could feel the back of your eyes warming due to impending tears.

Meanwhile, with Mountain Man - Today was a day of firsts in his ‘Crushing on Y/N’ book. It was the first time he’s ever seen you glowing because of the Regional results, it was the first time he’s ever seen you so sassy, and now............. Aone notes that today is also the first time he’s ever seen you on the verge of tears before.

Unlike your glowing and your sassiness, Aone decided that he hated the last first more than anything in the world.

It consumed his emotions, how badly he didn’t want to see you cry.

“You really are slimy, Tsume. Wait until Katana hears this.” Kusa spat, rubbing her hand up and down Y/N’s back to soothe you as you willed your tears not to fall.

Seeing you so sad, Aone’s heart clenched.

He knew what it was like to be hurting but he never ever wanted that for you—not ever.

“Hey Y/N-chan, why don’t you show me that video your mom got of our reaction to us placing second yesterday?? I’d love to see it.” Kusa has accurately distracted you because she texted Katana what was happening and Katana knew just what to do until she got there.

You smiled, thinking about the overwhelming happiness from yesterday when your team placed second. You whipped out your phone and showed Kusa, smiling and giggling in a matter of seconds as it played.

Aone was glad you seemed good.

He turned to look at Tsume, who seemed to be raging inside. Shooting daggers at the two cheerleaders because they weren’t crumbling under his threats. They were laughing, in fact. Ignoring him as if he didn’t matter. Aone could tell Tsume was a ticking time bomb with how mad he was. His anger toward you looked severely unhealthy.

You let out a rather amusing laugh with Kusa as you two pointed to your screen and Aone’s heart skipped a beat because he loved that laugh so much. God, he is so fucking whipped.

When you laughed like that though, it sent perverted-snitch Tsume over the edge, bubbling over in anger like a piping hot kettle.

Aone watched him with studious eyes as Tsume took a deep breath to say something else that Aone was sure would stop your harmonious laughter that he adored......

“Y/N—“ Tsume started, but without warning, THE AONE TAKANOBU, DATE TECH MIDDLE BLOCKER, OUR MOUNTAIN MAN, interrupted him! Stopping all speech in the class with his simple, deep-voiced command:

“Leave her be. She’s having fun.”

The class:

The class went silent because they’d never really heard Aone’s voice before. :S

Still riled up, the class snitch took one look beside him (he was too distracted before) as to locate the voice. Once his eyes set on the verrrry muscular and verrrry mountainous man sitting between him and Y/N, he decided it would be smart to not be riled up anymore. A drop of sweat leaving his hairline, Lian scanned Aone’s gigantic body with his eyes, seeing that the volleyball player just barely fit in his desk—he gulped.

Aone had a relaxed expression, meaning to say what he said nonchalantly, but one needs to remember that Aone’s relaxed expression looks like this:

Needless to say, the ex-mascot almost pissed himself.

Is that Y/N’s b-b-boyfriend now? Tsume wondered to himself in panic as several more drops of sweat ran down his face.

“O-o-ok-o-o-oka-okay-y....” Tsume stuttered out as he turned back to his school work.

Five minutes later when the teacher came in, Tsume had nothing to say. He only had a sweat damped stack of homework to give him before he fled, not waiting for the bell of dismissal.

Did I frightened him? Aone thought.

He didn’t mean to. Sincerely. He was as gentle as giants come (except in bed if you rile him up enough or when someone is bothering you).

The class went back to normal and Aone continued working too.

But one person didn’t—no, couldn’t go back to normal:

You.

You sat in your seat still slack jawed because someone you didn’t know came to your rescue and quite possibly single handedly stopped your expulsion. How have you not noticed him before?! He is gorgeous!

Tall, muscular, handsome. Shiny white hair, beautiful lips. And he came to your defence.

In your opinion , he was a FINEASS mountain man! 🏔🤤

Yes ma’am!!!!

Anyway, while everyone was talking, working and minding their own business—including Aone—you slid out of your desk and bounced over to his happily.

“Hi! Thanks so much for defending me a little while ago!”

Bitch, this was you: ☺️😊😄

lost ass

Aone raised his head to look at you, jumping back slightly because he never even heard you approach. He stared up at you with a heart that stopped beating, absolutely speechless.

WHAT IS HAPPENING? He thought. YOU WERE TALKING................TO HIM? You were NOTICING..............HIM?!

😱😳🤯

You reached over to touch the handsome giant’s arm in his sweater, smiling at him endearingly.

“I’m Y/N! It’s nice to meet you!”

yeah you lost af, bitch 😐

Aone wanted to say something, he did. But he was just too shocked that the girl he thinks about nonstop, the girl he wishes was his, the girl he just had a wet dream about last night, was talking to him and only him for the first time.

Unexpectedly!

Takanobu always thought you two would first speak because of Futakuchi or the teacher but not because of him.

Aone couldn’t fathom the fact that HE made this happen! HE was the reason you were over here!

Aone: 🤯🤯🤯

It was ALL. TOO. MUCH.

He couldn’t speak.

You removed your hand from his arm, silently chastising yourself because you shouldn’t touch people without permission.

Not that Aone minded. That boy would want you to touch him anywhere, on anyday, at anytime that pleased you.

“Sorry.” You looked down shyly, then met his serious expression again, wanting to be sure he knew how grateful you were for his help.

“Um.... you probably don’t know this but you getting that pervert to leave me alone is quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. And you did it for a stranger like me, no less.”

A/N: RUB IT IN THAT YOU DONT KNOW THE MAN MORE, WHY DONT YOU ?! 🤬

You tucked your hair behind you ear while holding his gaze. Aone could only nod because his throat was dry. You looked so incredibly perfect up-close and he wanted to make sure he remembered this. He just couldn’t speak.

Feeling a little awkward now because you just tried starting a conversation with this FINEASS classmate of yours to only get a nod in return, you laughed timidly.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll...” you turned on your heels so you could make your way back to your desk with your L. “....see you later.” You finished, telling him over your shoulder.

Much like when he defended you against Tsume, Aone didn’t know what came over him then: maybe it was all the memories of him feeling heartbroken that you’d never notice him or return his feelings—maybe it was the promise he made that he would do something toward pursuing you if you would just notice him first—or maybe is was because his best friend Kenji would have his HEAD if Aone told him he let you walk away right now without trying....... after TWO YEARS.........that compelled him to respond to your “see you later” bravely, FINALLY UTTERING WORDS TO YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE:

“When?”

^Asked Aone, just as you were walking away from him.

You stilled, feeling excitement in your body because he answered. You spun around and jumped back in front of his desk. You gave him a questioning look.

You responded, “When, what?”

Even though he was melting under your attention, Aone couldn’t give up now. He had to shoot his shot. This may be his only chance.

“When is later?” He elaborated.

Huh? You thought.

You blinked at the stunning classmate. What is he—OH, does he mean.....

“As in...when will I see you again?”

Aone nodded at you, holding his breath.

You massaged your chin, thinking 🤔.

You can admit you wanted to know more about this gorgeous man who came to your rescue. There was something about him that made you feel safe and warm. You couldn’t quite place it. You’ve never wanted to spend time with anyone outside of cheerleading more than this guy—so you owed it to yourself to explore that small feeling, right?

“Okay. Well, how about now? Lunch is after this period. Would you want to have it with me?!” You asked cheerily.

Though he didn’t show it, inside, fireworks went off in Aone’s mind, heart, and stomach...!

Actual footage:

Aone nodded quickly. Way too quickly for someone who did not want to come across as the most eager beaver in the world.

But he was...... and you noticed. It made you smile.

“Okay. So when the bell rings you can walk me to my locker and I’ll put away my stuff, then we’ll go to yours....then we can go head to lunch together. Sound good?”

Aone nodded quickly again!

You gave him the big smile that made him become a simp for you in the first place and you took your seat again.

Takanobu was so excited he literally almost stood up to spin the hand clock that hung up beside the door himself so that time could go by faster. He couldn’t even move to text Kenji because he knew his hands would shake.

He just sat there, his mind whirling mad until the bell finally rang. You said bye to Kusa and watched as this blonde hottie stood up from his seat, towering over you.

God, he was so freaking HOT! You wanted to jump him.

At the same time students filed out of the class, Aone turned to you as he collected his things then slung his bag over his shoulder.

“May I carry your books for you, Y/N?” Mountain man asked sheepishly in his stern voice.

Your heart fluttered by how cute and sweet he was to ask!

“Umm, sure! Thank you so much!” You smiled and handed your heavy books over.

You two walked beside eachother and Aone held the door open for you. You didn’t know why he was being so nice but you couldn’t lie that you felt very charmed.

“Y/N.”

You looked up at the handsome giant with curious eyes after he called your name.

“My name is Aone Takanobu by the way. You introduced yourself before, but I did not answer. I’m sorry. Either way, I knew who you were already. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Your smiled widened as you bounced on your feet while walking. “Very nice to meet you too, Aone Takanobu. I’ve actually heard of you before.”

Aone’s eyes lit up like 👀

“Wait r-really?”

Omg precious bby 🥺🥺🥺

“Yes. At a cheerleading sleepover. All good things, don’t worry. It’s just funny because I said that night how hopefully I’ll meet you and now here we are!”

Aone chuckled as he held open another door for you. When he did and you two walked down another hall, he caught sight of two very conspicuous volleyball players (one looked eerily like Justin Bieber, the other looked big boned) hugging eachother and slumping down to the ground at the sight of you and Aone. Aone rolled his eyes, thinking that they were lucky you never noticed your surroundings.

“Here we are.” Aone repeated, shooting a secret thumbs up at his friends who were on the verge of crying.

***

Nearing the end of an enjoyable lunch for both of you where you spoke a lot and Aone listened with heart eyes: he pulled your chair out for you, he was responding, he was chuckling, and overall hanging onto your every word, never wanting your time together to end. You became rather smitten.

***

“The bell is gonna ring soon, Aone. I just want to thank you again for buying my lunch and spending this time with me! I know it was super random!”

Aone got lost in your eyes as you said his name, because he’s never taken a moment to analyze how nice it could sound if it was caressed by your voice. Also, he’s never heard his name said by someone so beautiful (when it wasn’t being said in a question). He was BATHING in joy.

Although Aone didn’t answer and he’s maintained his stoic expression the entire lunch, deep down you felt that this man had a thing for you. He was very intense so it was quite obvious. But since you enjoyed the lunch so much and you were starting to have a thing for him, too, you wanted to confirm:

“Also, Aone-san, I’m happy to know that you can say more than 4 words 😲! I asked my friend earlier and she said you basically never speak.” You exclaimed, fishing.

Aone smirked, feeling the need to defend himself on that front. “It is true that that is the consensus of the majority of people who come in contact with me. However, that is because there exists few people, that I feel inclined to speak to.”

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes twinkled at his words. He looked like a jock but sounded so eloquent! You loved it:

“Oh wow well you spoke a lot to me today so I guess I must be a little special then, huh.......?” You twirled your hair around your index finger as you asked, causing Aone to almost drool.

listen, you...kind of..... wanted mountain man.

And you were only flirting minimally okay.....minimally, so don’t judge

You just wanted to know if your suspicions were right that he had a little crush on you or if he saw you as a friend

Aone looked down at you, thinking of a way to respond to you asking if you were special to him.

A/N: 😣🤞🏾AONE DONT CREEPY 😣🤞🏾DONT BE CREEPY 😣🤞🏾DON’T BE CREEPY 😣🤞🏾

“This is our first time speaking. So I am not entirely sure if you’re special yet...” He started.

You quirked your eyebrow attractively, anticipating how he would end that sentence.

“...But I hope that even after this lunch ends I can take you out again a few more times, Y/N-chan—somewhere nice and off-campus, perhaps—so that I can truly decipher whether you are or not.”

You quirked your eyebrow even higher, impressed by the smooth way he told you he wants to keep seeing you!

WELL SIS HES ONLY HAD 2 YEARS OF PRACTICE I MEAN—

“I’d love to.” You accepted, making Aone smile.

He was absolutely stunning when he smiled, it was almost unfair.

The bell rang.

“Mind walking me back to my locker, Aone?”

Aone stood on internally shaky legs that he willed to be normal. “Of course.” He took both yours and his tray and dumped it out before escorting you out of the cafeteria.

✏️ Back in the Locker Room ✏️

“We are happy for you, Aone.” Kenji patted his large friend on the back.

“I had your voice in the back of my mind, Kenji-san. I owe this happiness to you and your support. I know you’re worried that I’ll get my heart broken and be crushed but I’m thankful for you supporting me anyway. You will forever be my brother.”

———————————

Taglist: @crushzone @galagcica

Outtake #7: CLICK HERE

THE VOTE! ☑️

Upcoming outtakes (NSFW):

Losty Aone answering Kenji’s call while you’re having sex. He told you to please wait but...um....no. Hang up, buddy 😈

When you tease poor Losty Aone during class and make him want to f*ck you hard

You telling Aone that you’re horny before his game knowing you’d be cheering next to him the whole time being suggestive

Sending Aone a nude for the first time

First Kiss (In which Aone gets his first urge)

Discovering Aone’s ear kissing kink

Upcoming Fluff outtakes:

Aone on your first birthday as a couple

The official confession

Aone Embarrassingly telling Y/N about the things he did when he was crushing on you :/ (cupcake, donation, wet dreams, hoping to be your tutor, etc!)

When Aone fills in at one of your cheer practices!

Aone having to save you from your annoying admirers

Send me an ask/message/comment below with the number(s) of the outtake you really want me to write and the ones with votes will be done

Say “Losty Aone Story nsfw number ___” or “Losty Aone Story fluff number ___”

102 notes · View notes

heathsbitch · 4 years

Text

YES, SIR - g.m*

CHARACTER(S): George MacKay (Actor)

WARNING: Smut, unprotected sex, absolute filth, age-gap (Professor AU)

WORD COUNT: 3566

"That'll be all for today, remember you have exactly a week until your next assignments are due. Good luck," His voice reverberated throughout the lecture hall. People begun to stand up, their books carelessly thrown in their bags. "Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?" My head snapped towards my professor, heart pounding against my chest, 'What did he want?' As soon as the hall was empty of students, with the exception of me, I approached his desk. "There's no need to look so worried, you're not in trouble," His smile was kind, it almost seemed to light up the space around him, but perhaps that was just my admiration for him. I was quite fond of my professor. He genuinely cared for his students, always pushing for them to be better; I always found myself striving to please him. Besides, he was also described to be the 'best looking professor I have ever laid eyes on'. Not my words, but I could hardly argue with them, they were true words.

His hands fumbled with the papers on his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in search of something. My eyes wandered him as I waited. They trailed up the veins of his forearms, disappearing into shirt he had rolled up to his elbows. The same shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, a deep maroon colour. "Here," Professor MacKay muttered to himself as he held a paper in his hand, my paper. "I wanted to congratulate you on it personally." I was lost for words, how could he be that impressed with it that he wanted to speak to me privately. "Thank you, sir, but can I ask why?" He chuckled at my coyness, "Come here," He beckoned me over to his desk as he placed the paper on it. My eyes flickered over my work, remembering the stress that I had gone through to hand it in on time.

He moved closer to me, his body mere centimetres away from mine. His long finger pointed at a particular section, he dragged it across my words as he spoke, "This imagery, Y/N, its one of the best things I've ever read, and I don't say that lightly," I could almost hear the smile in his words despite not looking at his face. "The way you write about her being utterly infatuated with him, to the point where she'd completely surrender herself to him...its beautiful. The way you write about love, it seems as though you lived through hundreds of relationships. Now that's not true, is it, Y/N?"

The way the words fell from his lips, the way he praised me, the way his voice lowered as he said my name; it had me weak in my knees. "No, sir." My words were quiet, not quite believing what he was telling me. "I'd love to hear about your thought process behind this piece." The truth, the real truth was that I was projecting myself onto the woman. I longed for someone to submit myself to, someone who could utterly dominate me. And the image that formed in my head when writing was none other than my professor. I stuttered, unsure of what lie to tell him. I couldn't possibly tell him the truth. His breath fanned my neck and I could feel his cerulean eyes burning into my frame; small and meek compared to his tall stature.

"George, you will not fucking believe what-oh," A saviour had arrived. "I thought you were alone." The man stopped in his tracks as he stared at us. I could feel Mr MacKay had moved away from me, his warmth no longer radiating onto me. "Dean, don't worry about it." His professional demeanor dropped as he spoke to his friend. "Professor, I should go." I turned around to face him and he nodded, his eyes darting between my own and his friend's. "Of course. Good luck on your next assignment, I'm expecting big things." His smile was intended to be comforting but his words shot anxiety through my body, more pressure being applied to me. "Thank you, sir." I left the room without a second thought, eager to get started on my work so I could finish it as soon as possible.

Three hours and counting. That's how long I'd been staring at my blank page, the whiteness of it boring into my tired eyes. Inspiration ran short in my mind. Mr MacKay's words paced through my head, "I'm expecting big things."

What if I couldn't deliver? Would he be mad at me? Disappointed?

Surely not, he always seemed so polite and comforting, he would understand, right? My thoughts turned dark almost instantly, what if he did have a darker side? My previous assignment appeared before me, the scene Sir was talking about firmly planted in my mind. The woman was on her knees, begging, and I couldn't help but imagine myself in that situation.

"Please, sir, I'm yours, all yours to do with as you please." He looked down at me, his fingers delicately holding my chin, a condescending smile playing upon his perfect lips. "I know you're mine, you little slut. You're mine and only mine, is that understood, angel?" His fingers moved down to grab my neck, squeezing the flesh that rested underneath his calloused hand.

Stop. I slammed the lid of my laptop shut. My work could wait until tomorrow when my head was clear.

Oh, how wrong I was. The two hour lecture was torture in its purest form, my thoughts from last night plaguing my mind still as I gazed upon my professor as he taught from the front of the hall. I had instantly regretted sitting in one of the front seats as soon as I sat down, his eyes bore into me for the entire time.He had never done that before, I realised. Previously when I'd sat at the front, he would always look at the other students so why was he only focused on me? I groaned underneath my breath, trying to focus on the words that left his mouth and that's when I realised. My t-shirt ran along the tops of my breasts, more skin was exposed than usual. 'Surely not.' I thought to myself. Mr MacKay couldn't be distracted because of some tits. But my theory was proven right when his gaze caught mine once more, his eyes flickering down to my chest before they came up to my eyes again. A red tint crept onto his cheeks, I had caught him.

The rest of the lecture went by surprisingly quick, and I didn't catch Mr MacKay looking at my chest again. As usual, I was the last one to leave and for the second day in a row, my professor called out to me, "Y/N, forgive me, I-I don't know what came over me." The blush returned to his cheeks as his hands toyed with one another. "Professor, you don't have to apologise, it's fine," A smirk slid onto my lips, maybe one day my fantasies would come true. 'Fat chance.' I mentally scolded myself. Silence fell upon the lecture hall, the light streaming in from the thin windows. Sun beams bounced off of Mr MacKay's face, highlighting his cheekbones and his jawline. His eyes seemed to glow in the light, the deep pools of blue dragging me further into his charm, further under his grasp.

"I should go."

"Yes, yes, of course," He responded almost immediately, "Big things, Y/N."He pointed a long finger at me, his teeth shining from the lighting in the room. I nodded before hurrying out the lecture hall

Two more days passed and I was still struggling with my assignment. I kept asking myself if I should just go to Professor MacKay and ask for help, but every time I went to seek out his office, I stopped myself. However it seemed that help came to find me instead. As I was leaving the campus, I bumped into none other than Mr MacKay himself. Quite literally. I wasn't watching where I was going and before I knew it, I was face-to-face with the man in question. Or rather, face-to-chest. "Sorry, Professor, I should've been looking where I was going." I let out a timid laugh but avoided his gaze. "It's quite alright," Silence passed over us again so I took the time to briefly look at him. A navy shirt hugged his chest, rolled up to his elbows as always.

"How's your assignment going?"

My heart beat doubled instantly. 'Should I tell him the truth?' Oh, what's the harm. "Actually, it's not going too great," Once again, I tried to avert my eyes from his piercing gaze. "I, um, was actually wondering if you could help me with it."

"Of course, Y/N," He beamed at me, he seemed slightly too enthusiastic. He led me through various corridors and hallways to his office. Inside, the room was neat and tidy. I wouldn't have expected anything less from him. "Take a seat. Obviously, I can't help you too much, it would be unfair on other students. But I'll try and do what I can." I followed his instruction and took a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat at his desk. What surprised me is that he took the one next to me, rather than the one on the opposite side.

"Thank you, sir. For doing this for me." That damn smile. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong; pining after my professor like this. But that feeling, it spurred me on almost. The danger of it all, the risk. It was enticing, alluring, arousing.

"Show me what you have so far," I pulled my notebook out of my bag and placed it on his large desk. His eyes scanned over my scarce plan, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, his fingers playing upon his lips. He hummed slightly, his knee knocking against mine. I shouldn't have looked. As if my lust for him couldn't get worse, I had to go and look at his thighs. His thick thighs. I could practically see the muscles clenching and relaxing under the fabric of his trousers. His fingers danced upon the page of my notebook, one finger in particular pointing at a section. "I like this, could you expand on this?" His voiced lowered at the end of his sentence, blue eyes passing over my body. I came closer to him, to read what he had pointed out. Once again, I could feel his breath against me, the warmth of his body radiating against mine.

More. I wanted more.

I tore my eyes off the page to look at my professor. I could see the cogs ticking behind his eyes, the thoughts racing through his head. Eyes cast to my lips, his tongue passed over his own. "Professor..." I muttered before his lips came crashing onto mine, his large hand weaving into my hair to pull my head closer to his. Parting his lips, he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Wet, silky, soft lips moved against my own. My heart pounded against my chest so hard I was scared he'd be able to see it. I moved my own hands to rest on him, one on his knee, the other at the base of his neck. The hairs their enticed my hands, begged me to pull at the strands, so I did. A groan erupted from his lips, he pulled away not long after. "I-I, this." He seemed lost for words. "We don't have to if you don't want to." I told him, fearing I had over-stepped. "No, no, I want to," His eyes seemed to darken with his own words. "I was just wondering if this was alright with you."

"It's more than alright." A smirk found it's way back onto my lips as my hand slid further into the fluff of his hair. "Tell me if you want me to stop, at any moment." His eyes were filled with concern, his eyebrows furrowed once more. His breath fanned my face, "I will, but believe me, I'm not gonna want you to stop," I moved my lips closer to his ear, my voice barely above a whisper, "I'm yours, sir. Use me as you please, treat me like the slut I am." A moan came from his perfect lips, his thigh tensing under my hand. "Didn't think you had it in you." He muttered before dragging me into his lap. Rough hands pressed into my body, squeezing at my flesh, starting at my neck and working their way down to my ass.

"Sir." I whimpered as he slapped it harshly. "Fucking love it when you call me that. Don't act like it doesn't turn you on too," Our lips met once more, more passionate than the first time. Teeth clashed with each other, tongues collided, lips smacked one another. It was all lust, lust driving us into each other, lust causing the friction between our laps. My hips began to grind against his, his hands urging me on. He pulled me closer to him then pulled me away, then closer again, repeating the same action over and over again, fighting for more friction between us.

His mouth parted from mine, "Stand up," He pushed me off of his thighs, it was like a switch had been flipped; one moment he was kind and generous, the next intimidating and dominant. Mr MacKay followed in my actions, standing up so our warm bodies pressed against each other once more. Despite his domineering actions, his hands trembled slightly as they raised my top above my head. "Been thinking about these," His head moved to my chest, peppering light kisses along the tops of my breasts. Hands making quick work of the clasp, he pulled the garment away from me, nipples hardening from the cool air of his office. My fingers, toiled with the tendrils of his hair, tugging at the strands. His hips thrusted into mine slightly with every tug of mine.

Purple marks started to form on my breasts from Mr MacKay's work, he made his way up to my neck, intending to leave his mark there too. I could feel his tongue slip and slide against my flesh, his teeth lightly biting into the skin. Sir's hands moved again, grabbing at my trousers, yanking them down my legs. My professor took a step away from me, his eyes burning through my body. "Fuck," He whimpered at the sight of me, my chest and neck littered with his mark, almost naked in front of him. The bulge in between his legs grew bigger by the second, begging to break free from its tight restraints. Thoughts began to fill his head again. "Do you think about me a lot then, sir?" I padded towards him, confusion light upon his face. "You said you've been thinking about these," I raised my small hands to play with my nipples, pinching them and twisting them. "Tell me, Professor. Do you touch yourself with thoughts of me in your mind?"

I cocked my head, hands coming from my body to press against his, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. His eyes watched me like a hawk watches its prey. "Tell me, do you have me on my knees, begging to such your cock?" Confidence poured into my veins, spurring me on more and more. "Or am I bent over your desk? Legs spread wide, dripping for your touch?" I slid his shirt off of his body. I was taken aback by it slightly, I wasn't expecting him to be so muscular. Veins slid down his chest, past his v-line and disappeared under his trousers. "You've got a pretty mouth, little one. Let's put it to use shall we?" His smirk was wicked as his hands pushed me to me knees.

His trousers were pooled at his ankles before long, his erection already leaking at the tip, a dark patch forming on his underwear. "To answer your question, yes, little one." Fire wracked my body, an intense heat sent straight to my core. My hands shook as I removed his restraints from him. His cock sprang free, thick and veiny before my eyes. I immediately took it into my hands, they appeared tiny in comparison. I ran them across the length before taking it in my mouth. It lay heavy against my tongue; I tried to take as much as I possibly could, his tip hitting the back of my throat quicker than I expected. I gagged and spluttered, pulling him out of me so I could regain myself. "What's wrong, slut? Never had a cock this big?" He antagonised me from above, hands threading into my hair, "Open wide."

I followed his orders and allowed him back into my mouth. Control was entirely his, his hips thrusting against my head. I was completely at his mercy, as I always wished to be. More gags came from me but he never stopped, he never yielded."Can't cum yet," He told me before pulling me off of his cock. But I brought my hands back to him, bringing him close to his orgasm again. "I thought you were a good girl, little one. Perhaps I should've taught you better. Bend over." He grabbed at me, pulling me from my knees and pushing me to his desk. I bent over, completely exposed to him, completely at his mercy. His large hands found their way to my flesh, running across it before delivering a hard smack my ass. A whimper left me, the stinging sensation causing more wetness to gather between my legs. "Look at how wet you are for me. Fucking pathetic," Another spank, and another, and another. "You know what you need? A real man. A real man to take care of you."

His fingers danced up my slit, toying with my entrance briefly before landing on my clit. "Yes, sir. Please, ruin me, professor." A groan echoed in the room before the sound of Mr MacKay kicking away his trousers. "Gonna use you now. This is gonna hurt, little one. Tell me if you want me to stop." He muttered in my ear. He took his cock in his hand and ran it across my slip, gathering the wetness before pushing into me. He stretched me open, the pain causing me more pleasure. "Shit." We hissed in unison from the feeling. "So tight, so fucking tight." Mr MacKay moaned, his hands forcing my hips into the desk. My nails dug into the wood below me, the euphoric feeling almost too much for me to bear. His pace started to quicken. Soon he was driving into me without mercy, using me for his own pleasure. Skin slapped against skin, the sound of moans and groans drowned the room.

His tight grasp on me broke to deliver another spank to my already red ass. "Fucking whore, my whore." He whimpered in my ear as he bent over the desk, his chest pressed into my back. The position didn't last long, he pulled out of me and turned me around so we were face-to-face once again. Mr MacKay entered me again, I wish I could've taken a picture because the sight of him was almost enough to make me cum on the spot. His hair was tousled, stray strands stuck to his forehead because of the sweat, his lips swollen and wet from kisses, parted from the feeling of my tight pussy gripping his thick cock. A hand made it's way to my throat as he pounded into me. He shoved me down onto his desk, his grip tightening every second. "S-sir, gonna..."

"I know, princess. I'm close too. Just hold on a little longer, keep your eyes open for me angel," My professor brought me back up to meet his lips once more briefly. We were chest-to-chest, our hands buried in each other's hair, sweat dripping from our bodies. "Cum for me, angel. Fucking cum," Warmth surged throughout my body as it pushed further against my professor. "Gonna cum," He warned me. Mr MacKay pulled out of me, his hand darting down to his cock, furiously tugging at it. His beautiful eyes screwed shut, the muscles in his chest and abdomen all tensed as ropes of hot cum shot out of his cock and onto my stomach.

"Fuck, Y/N," The room stilled. George's head rested in the crook of my neck, mine against his shoulder. The soreness had already begun to work it's way into my body, a small whimper left my swollen lips. As he heard the noise, he came back to meet my lips, placing a sweet kiss to them. It wasn't as lust-filled as all of the others we had shared that night, it was more passionate, more loving. "I should help with your assignment now." I chuckled against his chest, a laugh leaving him also. "Clean me up first, George."

"Shit, sorry. I like it when you say my real name." He smiled at me again before searching for something he could use to clean me up. The realisation had started to settle in, I had just slept with my professor. Would this be a one-time thing? Or a regular occurrence? Only time would tell.

#george mackay #smut #1917 #true history of the kelly gang #fic

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Note

In HW will we ever see something Historically funny, like Taehyung , Y/N parents coming to visit without notice and them scurrying to clean up just in general... lol

Hahaha I love that idea. Let me write a little drabble right now. (I know you said clean up in general but I thought it would be funnier if they were in the middle of something...)

Warning: smut, somehow morphed into angst I’M SORRY

The island kitchen counter is Taehyung’s favourite place to eat you out. And despite the hard slab of marble pressed cold against your back rather than the soft cushion of your mattress, the scandalousness of the location, so out in the open without the shelter of walls, makes it arguably your favourite too.

Splayed out on the counter, your legs swung over his shoulders, his hair is the only thing you can grip on in the absence of bed sheets. And he loves it.

“Fuck, Taehyung, keep going, I’m close.”

You feel him smirk against your cunt, the rhythm of his tongue hitting your clit quickening. Your eyes are screwed shut, lips stinging from his biting. This orgasm is going to be spectacular, you can tell.

Ding dong.

The pit of your stomach drops when you hear the familiar sound of the doorbell.

Taehyung’s face resurfaces from between your legs, eyes wide at the interruption. “Delivery?” He asks, wiping his sheen-coated mouth.

“Hmm, could be my clothes.” You purse your lips in annoyance. You were this close.

In a careless hurry, you forgo your panties on the floor and put your sweatpants on, and you silently thank that Taehyung was too impatient to take your top off before devouring you. Shirtless, he lounges back on the stool, spinning it to face the door, probably to death stare the delivery boy. Though, even without the death stare, his massive boner poking out his checkered pyjama bottoms would send the guy running.

When you swing the door open, your heart stops beating.

“Sweetie, hi!”

Oh fuck.

You hear Taehyung stagger off the stool behind you.

“M-mum? Dad? H-hi. What are you… doing here?” You forget how to breath when your parents pull you into a bone-crushing embrace. This pigeon-shit luck of yours will get you killed one day.

“We were just in the area since we were having brunch with Meredith. You remember Auntie Meredith? She looked after you that one weekend your dad and I went to France when you were eight? So we’d just thought to pop by and say hi.” You don’t know who the fuck Meredith is, nor do you care. Because your parents are currently pushing pass you into your house, where a completely horrified Taehyung is scrambling around the island counter so his boner isn’t full on display to your parents.

When your eyes meet his, you can’t tell who is panically more internally.

“Taehyung!” Your father greets, eyes scanning the poor boy’s stark chest. “Wow, look at you!”

You could say that Taehyung is pretty well-acquainted with your parents, though you would rather them not be this overly friendly with your roommate. He’s usually good with your folks, joking around with them, especially if the subject of conversation is you. But right now… A bead of sweat trickles down his cheek.

“H-hi, Y/D’s/N. Er, it’s nice to see you.” Arms crossed to preserve his modesty, Taehyung stutters. With your previous activity still fresh in your mind, you think you can just about dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment. Had they heard you moaning? Oh my god...

“Jeez, Taehyung, it’s been a while! Where’s your shirt? Don’t get me flustered now.” Fanning her face, your mum jokes. She likes to make it blatantly obvious how attractive Taehyung is, and it makes you want to pull your hair out.

“Right, sorry, we weren’t expecting you. We just woke- I just woke up. I’ll go put something on right now, give me a second.” Your eyes meet as he flees the scene, and you give him a lethal daggering glare for leaving you to fend for yourself.

The sensual ache between your legs has completely vanished, replaced with that throat-constricting feeling of dread. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your parents - you are - just not right now of all times.

“Surprised, sweetie?” You mum fawns over you, fingers combing through the tangles in your hair while your dad surveys your messy place.

“Very surprised, mum. Pleasantly, of course.” You force a sickly sweet smile at her, mouth dry with guilt. If only she knew the filth you had been up to with Taehyung. He had kept you up all night last night, which is why you only got out of bed at noon. And even so, he still wanted to eat you out for breakfast.

Your eyes follow your father’s tacitly judgemental gaze, no doubt preparing to scold you on your disorganisation. It doesn’t take more than a minute to wash up a goddamn mug! You can practically hear him say. Then your eyes land on your thong on the floor.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

“Are you even listening, Y/N?” Your mother chides. “I said, Taehyung is really quite handsome, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, mum, of course.” Without paying attention to her words, you answer.

The black lace underwear lies rather inconspicuously by the corner of the counter. From a fleeting glance, it could pass off as a discarded sock. But knowing your father, knowing how his scrutinizing eyes never fails to find every single flaw, there is no chance he will miss it. He is pacing on the other side of the counter, a few steps away from reaching it; and you’re standing a good five metres away, you won’t be able to hide it without being obvious. Doomed.

Just then, Taehyung emerges from his room, a creased t-shirt thrown over his head, hair still sticking out in places where you were tugging. Your eyes immediate travel to examine his bulge, which is less prominent than before, confirming that the poor throbbing thing is tucked under the band of his boxers.

“Taehyung!” Your mother flocks over to him, clutching his arm too enthusiastically. “We were just talking about you. You’ve grown out your hair! It looks great on you!”

Your dad stops pacing on the other side of the counter, and you let out of breath of relief as your underwear remains hidden under the counter. In two strides, you bend over to pick it up and stuff it in your sweats while the attention is diverted to Taehyung.

“Thank you. Y/N wouldn’t let me cut it, she said she likes it long.” Taehyung chuckles nervously, glancing over at you. Your eyes narrow at his innuendo. Intentional? Probably not, he’s way too freaked out right now.

“Come on, it does look better long and permed, doesn’t it?” Though your voice resumes its regular tone, your heartbeat has yet to calm. Your parents absolutely cannot find out about you and Taehyung. From the fact that you have not had a single boyfriend in your life and how repulsed you act every time they ask about men in your life, they probably think that you are a virgin. You’d rather keep that pristine image of yourself.

“Taehyung looks good either way.” You roll your eyes as your mum pats Taehyung’s cheeks fondly, and the pleased grin it coaxes from him. Too smug.

“Thanks, Y/M’s/N.”

“So,” your dad crosses his arms and leans onto the island, “What's up with you two lately?” So the interrogation has begun.

“What do you mean how have we been?” You bristle. “We’re fine, still great friends. Why would anything be up with us?” Taehyung bites the inside of his cheeks at your response. Great friends, indeed.

“Hey now, I meant how have you guys been, Miss Sensitive.” Taken aback by your defensiveness, you dad chuckles.

Right... You clamp down on your lip. You should shut up before you give anything away.

“Yeah, Taehyung, you got a girlfriend?” Your mother’s brows raise suggestively. Oh god, not this again.

“Mum-”

“Nah, no girlfriend.” Taehyung shakes his head shyly, scratching the back of his head.

“Really? Oh why not!? I’m sure girls are lining up to be with you!”

You’re about to drag your mother off Taehyung when you actually consider her question. Why doesn’t Taehyung have a girlfriend? It’s not like he’s really sleeping around nowadays anyway. And though he never expresses it to you, since it would probably be weird, he is definitely the type to be pining for a girlfriend at heart.

When you glance at him, his cheeks are tinted, eyes searching the floor frantically. “I don’t know… I guess I’m just… Not really actively looking for a serious relationship right now? I’m happy with the way things are currently with my life.”

You’re not sure why you feel as though his words are aimed at you and your situation. Are you overthinking? Or is he saying that he doesn't want anything to change between you? Not that you want anything more, god no, you just… Maybe a selfish greedy part of you hopes to keep Taehyung all for yourself.

“Psh, yeah right, that’s what I used to tell myself, buddy.” Your dad chimes in, and you’d just wish he would dial his abrasive tone down a little. You've definitely taken after your father. Good thing he likes Taehyung, or the savagery would show its claws. “Trust me, you’ll want a girl sooner or later.”

“Exactly. And I know you’ll kick me out for this, sweetie, but you two would make a great couple. Why not just give it a go?”

Taehyung has gone completely stiff. You can’t believe what your mother is saying. This isn’t the first time she has urged you to date Taehyung. He’s good looking, a nice guy, makes you laugh. Y/N, why not? Why not? Because- Because…

“Mum! You’re right.” Her face lights up. “I’m definitely kicking you out. Please, we’ll have dinner this weekend. But we’re busy right now. Goodbye.”

As you usher your parents to the door despite their protests, you purposely avoid Taehyung’s eye, sensing the heat rush profusely to your face. “Wait but, Y/N-”

“Taehyung and I are best friends. I’m not going to be his girlfriend, we’re happy right now. Okay?”

Strangely, when you slam the door after your parents, it feels as though you’re trapping yourself with the very problem you wish not to face, rather than having banished it. Cheeks bashfully red, Taehyung doesn’t say anything when you approach him, muttering your apologies on behalf of your parents.

His mouth opens, and shuts.

You’re glad that he stays quiet, glad that he doesn’t disagree with what you said. Because you don’t know you would handle knowing that Taehyung wants something more.

Unedited and rushed and sporadic and kinda shit sorry

#heatwave #heatwave drabble #ask: Heatwave #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts #bts taehyung #bts smut

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panticwritten · 6 years

Text

Breaking Furnace Book One: Lockdown

Chapter 4: Friends Don’t Let Friends Lose Prison Fights

I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr because I am a fiend when it comes to using different fonts and tools and junk in my writing. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so here.

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 4835

Triggers for this chapter:

Unreality

NAZI imagery

Graphic(ish) violence

Death

NSFW (on the same level as a still-life model is nsfw)

Body horror (sort of)

Always willing to tag new triggers, if needed.

Chapter 5 will be up Jan 26th at 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

~-S-~

Alex and Zee, stop me when I leave the trough room. I try to greet them with a grin to let them know that there weren’t any problems, but I’m not sure how successful I am.

“You were supposed to go to your cells,” I say, more as a formality than anything. “If there had been a lockdown, you could have been stuck down here.”

“You know we can make it up, no sweat.” Zee laughs uneasily. “What were you doing in there, anyway?”

I laugh, not so uneasily.

“Letting the Skulls think I was seducing their leader.” Or actually seducing their leader, depending on how you look at it. “No sweat.”

“I thought we were trying to ally with them,” Alex says.

I beckon them to follow me across the yard. It’s too open out here.

“I challenged Kevin to a fight.” They look even more worried now. “Whether I win or not, it means the same thing—protection and communication.”

“You will win, right?” Zee clarifies. We arrive at my cell, and I pause at the threshold.

“I might.”

They both start an argument at the same time, and I sigh.

“Look, I put certain limits on the world this time. I'm just a person if I can’t concentrate.”

“Does Kevin know that?”

I frown at them both. “Are you two worried about me? Or yourselves?”

They exchange glances.

“We can protect ourselves. Kevin can be a monster, and if he’s expected to act like one…” Alex looks away, and I follow his gaze to see the Skulls trooping out of the trough room behind Kevin. When he looks back, I give him a tight smile.

“Don’t forget who I am, Alex. I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t look so sure, but I decide to let it lie. I can’t deny that even I’m pushing my trust in Kevin to the absolute breaking point.

I sweep my gaze around the yard and sigh, drained. “I’m gonna go rest up.”

“Lockdown isn’t for awhile, I don’t think,” Zee says, giving me a worried frown.

I shrug. “I know. I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve to keep unwelcome guests out.”

After some more debate, they leave and I enter my new home.

The cell itself is about the size of my bathroom at home. A toilet, metal and starting to rust, sits affixed to the wall straight ahead. The bunk bed jammed into the far corner doesn’t look very reliable.

I shake my head and look back out through the bars to the yard. There’s no better time to do this than now, I guess.

With a sharp exhale, I breathe out an illusion, a shield between my cell and the yard. As far as they can see, it’s an empty room. Looking out, the world warps slightly, as if I’m viewing an aquarium exhibit. As if I’m not part of the freakshow.

I shove the thought from my mind and vault into the top bunk. Some sleep will do me well. It’s been a long day, only made longer by my meddling with time. Then there’s the nectar. The weight of it here is starting to get to me, like a recovering addict in a meth house.

Not that I’m really recovering. I’m here after all, and that means that I’m back for more of that filth. The essence of it in the air here is so thick that I can almost taste it.

Gazing at my hands, I hold on to the humanity I still have. This version of me has never had nectar, even if I remember the thrum of it. I wonder how long it will take me to ravage this body.

My track record isn’t good, so it’s best not to ponder it.

I turn my eyes to the inmates milling around in the yard. They don’t even realize what’s happening beneath their feet. Oh, they know something’s wrong. They have to know that the Warden, the suits, the wheezers are all wrong. But they don’t know just how bad it is, the experimentation, the death, the evil.

I catch sight of Connor on the other side of the yard, talking with another inmate. He looks annoyed, and I try to imagine what they could be talking about. As I lay down, as close to the wall as I can, I wonder if he was right.

Maybe this isn’t healthy.

~-S-~

I sit in a cell, looking out. This isn’t Furnace, the world outside a brightly lit hallway. The cell itself is smaller, empty save for myself and a foul odor.

No, this isn’t Furnace.

It’s a dream.

I stand, legs weak and shaky, and press against the bars to peer into the darkness. The opposite wall is lined with doors, and I recognize it as the cell blocks back in the Cube. Stepping back from the bars, I cross my emaciated arms.

This isn’t a normal dream borne of the nectar. The feeling of calm, while unsettling, isn’t what I would expect from my first night in the prison. This isn’t a view that I ever wanted to see with my own eyes, looking out from this side of the cells.

No…

I cock my head to listen, freezing as the ghostly wail floats through the hall. The voice is unfamiliar, and I disregard it after a moment. These dreams are nothing more than memory, there’s nothing I can do.

After a moment, the image flickers. The light disappears, and I blink until my eyes adjust. The cell stays firmly around me, but outside a spiral path twists up and connects my cell to countless others. Each of the other cells hold several children.

Ah. This is more like it.

Between each cell, on the other side of the room, a red banner hangs with a swastika emblazoned on each. Now we’re back in the memories that the nectar favors. I grimace and turn away.

There are several other kids in my cell now, all unfamiliar and all pleading. None of them seem to have the strength to stand, so I kneel alongside them.

It’s okay, I murmur. The words that come out, I don’t understand, but the meaning is clear. This isn’t the end.

Talking to the boys in the memory, I still feel a twinge of guilt about lying to them. Each of these boys will be dead or under the wheezers’ knife by the end of the week. I’m sure they can see the truth in my eyes, hear it in my voice.

Still, they cling to my arms with fingers as thin and fragile as twigs. I sit in the middle of this group, three little boys holding onto what little hope they have left.

Still, we hold each other when boots begin to thud up the path.

We hold each other when they stop outside of our cell.

Even as I’m being dragged away, the boys try to hold on. It breaks my heart, the question and fear in their eyes. Cold metal pushes against the back of my head. Even as the shot rings out, one of the boys’ voice echoes in the darkness.

This isn’t the end.

~-S-~

I shout out, the phantom pain the back of my head pushing me upright.

My skull makes contact with the ceiling, and I can’t hold back a curse. Slowly, as my heart rate slows and I remember where I am, I rub my head. The ghost of a hole in the back of my head fades, but the real pain on my crown still throbs.

Welcome to Furnace.

I chuckle, tired, and turn to look into the yard.

The only light in the prison is the softly glowing screen above the elevator leading to the surface. For all I know, this could be another trick of the dreams to send me spiraling further into Furnace’s hell.

Although I know I should sleep longer, I end up swinging out of bed and dropping to the ground before I can think better of it. The light from the screen would have kept me up, anyway.

I pace, running through the plan. I always feel like I’m forgetting something. The world could end, and I’ll still feel like I’m forgetting something.

I don’t know what plans Cross has, so it’s all up in the air after we break out. If all goes well, we should be back on the surface within five months.

If not, we’ll likely never see the surface before we end up back in the Cube.

After that, well…

“Hey.”

I jump, thrown off balance. A blacksuit sits next to my cell, his silver eyes fixed on me. I drop to the floor next to the bars and can’t help a smile.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Just checking on you,” he says. “We were starting to wonder if you were ever showing up.”

I smile but don’t respond. Many of them were happy with their life in the Cube. I told Connor to give them the option to stay there with the Scouts, but they chose this. I don’t understand it.

We chat for a while. I ask about the Scouts, but he claims to have been in the universe too long to remember any details. When he turns it around and ask if they’ve contacted me, I pull conversation back to the prison.

“Look, I need to tell you something,” he says, lowering his voice. “Down there, he’s doing something to the new recruits. Rumor has it, he’s trying to turn them against you.”

A weight settles in my stomach, cold and heavy. I sit in silence long enough for him to look back at me. I try to calm down. This is how the game is played after all.

“Is it working?”

“Not yet.”

I can’t suppress a sardonic laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but our mutual friend is an ass.” I rock back on my heels. “I’m done pulling punches. You guys deserve better than that prick.”

“So, you’re going to kill him?”

I don’t answer, standing and turning away. I chew the inside of my cheek, already drifting away. He seems to take my silence as an affirmation.

“I don’t blame you,” he says, his chuckle a soft growl in the darkness. “We’re all rooting for you. Good luck, Sawyer.”

I turn back fast enough to catch his wink before he turns away, and I wonder how he knows about my name change. Connor, maybe?

I wonder how else he busied himself while he was waiting for me.

Watching the suit go, I’m left in the cell by myself. I stare blankly at my bunk and wonder just what the hell I’m doing here. It’s hot, I’m underground, and everyone here wants to kill me.

What am I going to do when Cross gets his little experiment to work? I resume pacing, allowing my fingers to itch at my forearm. There really isn’t anything I can do about it for now. It’s not a problem.

Until it is a problem.

I climb back into my bunk to put together ideas on how best to end my brother’s life. From here, there isn’t much I can do. An inmate in his prison, he could choose to kill me at any time.

After thinking on it, I make up my mind. I allow myself a laugh, the sound becoming a shocked squeak when the lights suddenly come on. Jolting upright, I smack my head against the ceiling a second time.

“Shit!” I hiss, pressing the heel of my hand against my throbbing forehead.

Still, I heave myself out of bed. I only have to wait a few minutes for the bars to rattle open.

I almost leave, but I hesitate with a glance at the bed. I’m just a little worried that someone will target me and ruin my stuff. They did it to Alex, after all, in the original books.

When I turn around, Kevin stands in the doorway. I start, more surprised than anything. Isn’t his cell on the fourth floor?

“How fast did you have to run to get down here?”

He ignores that, nodding to someone out of sight. Two Skulls step in front of my cell, and I sigh. “These'll make sure you don’t slip outta our match, sweetheart.”

He flashes me a wicked grin and leaves, the others staying in my doorway. I watch him go, brow furrowed. He’s getting really into this charade.

The two cronies don’t move when I start for the cell door, and I pause. With a swift glance, I appraise them. They still don’t move.

I smile.

“If you don’t move, I’ll be forced to move you myself.”

They exchange glances and smirk. Still, they stay in place. I sigh and shrug.

My hand twitches, and they crumple to the ground as one. Their eyes glazed, they struggle and fail to find their feet.

“You shouldn’t underestimate anyone in a place like this, you know.”

I catch Kevin watching me from the door of the trough room when I start over there myself. I don’t acknowledge anyone while I grab a tray.

This time, I successfully acquire a meal.

I do my best to force the sludge they call food here down my throat. It makes me think of runny Malt-o-Meal, so it tickles my gag reflex more than a little.

The two boys I floored are just entering the mess hall as I stand to leave. I feel them glowering at me, but when all three of us find ourselves in Room One of the chipping halls, I note with satisfaction that they find a place on the opposite side of the room with their picks and hard hats.

I fantasize about breaking Cross’s face in while I work. No one tries to start shit, thankfully, so I’m able to stew in my own head until the standing guard calls for the ed of the works day.

I have no idea how much rock I cleared, but the anger lingering from the assault leaves my throat thick. I need to control myself.

I don’t realize how sore all of this turns my muscles until I have to stop. Trying to use my arms for something other than swinging a pick at a wall? No thanks.

Still, I fight through it and drag the thing back to the equipment racks. On the way, I roll my shoulders and try to work the kinks out of them. By the time I abandon mu equipment and enter the shower rooms, my arms and back almost feel normal again.

If I can excuse the underlying ache in my entire body, that is.

I always forget about this part when I decide to come here. The communal showering part.

The room is an open space nearly identical to the chipping rooms we just left. Red walls, red ceiling, rough around the edges in every sense. The only differences are the drain fixed in the middle of the floor and the water sprinklers overhead.

I can feel eyes on me as I shed my paper shoes and throw them into the corner with other crumpled bits of clothing. I steel myself, swallowing every anxious thought I have, and my overalls quickly follow the shoes into the pile.

There’s a wolf whistle and gloating mutters, but no one comes closer than a yard to me. They must be too scared of Kevin and the Skulls to risk approaching me.

While I’m grateful for that, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m left naked in a room full of teenage boys that haven’t seen a titty in years. I keep my arms resolutely crossed over my chest.

With a hiss, icy water cascades from the ceiling. The cold sends a shock through my body, but once I get used to it, it’s a godsend. A drink of lemonade on a hot day. A swim in the middle of summer. A nice shower after hours of work.

I’m enjoying the spray, tucked into a corner, when I catch sight of Connor across the room. He’s talking with one of the boys Kevin told to keep an eye on me, not looking particularly amused.

Then he shoots a shocked glance at me and laughs. The boy looks taken aback, and that quickly morphs into irritation. Connor can’t seem to take the conversation seriously anymore, and the boy eventually walks away.

Connor looks at me as if sharing a joke and shakes his head.

The moment the water stops, I step into the first clean set of overalls I find, now that the dirty ones have been replaced. I half expect Connor to come find me when I enter the yard, but he walks by without a backward glance to join several Skulls at a table.

Something about Connor wearing the Skulls bandana feels wrong. I loiter next to the opening to the chipping rooms, watching him. His sandy hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it, falling down his back past his shoulders even with the cloth on his head.

He looks up, turning curious eyes on me for just an instant before returning to his game. None of the Skulls seem to have noticed. I shrug and move on, reaching out my awareness to brush his as I pass. He returns the gesture, though his voice doesn’t waver at all in his conversation with the Skulls.

I head for an opening in the rock just under the first set of stairs to the upper levels. It’s guarded by two inmates, but they don’t stop me. I brace myself before entering the gym, knowing what to expect.

The exercise machines must have all been moved to the side years ago, leaving a ring in the center. The rock has been worn down, stained a deep red by the blood shed here mixing with the firey dust lining the entire prison. The room is still empty, and I cross to the center of the circle. Bending down, I rest my fingertips on the dark floor.

I can feel the pain of the hundreds of inmates beaten bloody on this spot. If I try, I could probably feel the evidence of my own fights, the ones from other worlds. All of this hurt can’t be limited to this one. If all of these universes are connected by one place, I could almost believe this is it. I always thought it would be the island or the tower, but—

“Hey.”

I slowly stand and turn around to face Kevin. He only has one Skull with him, hovering in the doorway.

I don’t say anything, just stand in the center of the bloody ring. I'm too aware of my aching muscles, all of the weakness. I don’t know if I’ll last long in a real fight against him, and I don’t know if he knows that or not.

I step back, to the far end of the ring. He steps into it, motioning for his buddy to stay back.

A few others show up, but the first keeps them from entering the room. The newcomers are forced to watch from the doorway. Kevin seems to be waiting for the crowd to grow, which I can appreciate.

He wants a show. I’ll be sure to give him one, then. I put on an easy smile. Arrogant, self-assured.

“So, big boy, you still think this is a good idea?” When I slip into a confident stance, he does the same. Good. This would have been exhausting if I’d had to hold his hand through the whole thing.

“Pretty damn sure. You having second thoughts?” We’re slowly circling each other by now. I hope he’ll make the first move. I’m much better with defensive work than offensive.

A small timer appears in the corner of my eye.

He gives himself away somehow. A subtle tensing, or a change of expression. He doesn’t pull his hand back, but I can still feel the punch coming. The timer starts. In the split second I have to react, I make a decision. This is how it will go. It takes all of my willpower to merely throw up a shield of thought.

I don’t move.

My shield protects me from the worst of it. The pain, when his fist connects with my gut, isn’t that awful. I still double over, though, and he slams his elbow into my spine. I try to protect myself with another shield, but I can’t focus enough to make it form.

This one hurts.

I cry out, my mind racing for a way to salvage my pride and avoid obviously throwing the fight. The moment his hands leave me, he kicks me to the ground.

This is good, I tell myself. Barely two seconds into the fight and I’m already getting wrecked. I take a moment to assess myself internally and find that the damage is minimal.

Thank god.

I stay down, feigning groans of pain. The boys outside cheer in the background, feeding the static hissing in the back of my head.

I hear Kevin approaching. Slowly, calmly.

I take in a breath and focus. I can do anything if I can keep my fucking head. I visualize what I need to do, imagine it, run the reel over the back of my eyelids while I wait.

He stops.

Now.

I slam my hand against the ground, kicking out to sweep his feet out from under him. My momentum brings me stumbling to my feet.

I wait for him to scramble to his feet, then I catch him in the jaw and grasp his shoulder to keep him from reeling back. He has just enough time to realize what I’m about to do and start to twist away.

He’s too late.

I swing my knee up to kick him between the legs. I shove him back and watch him fall. He’ll recover, and it’s his choice whether this continues or not.

I try to gather myself, but I don’t have time.

He comes up again, his stance still awkward. His nose bleeds freely, but he does nothing to stem it.

I shrug, smiling. “Haven’t you had enough?”

He grunts in response and rushes me. It’s sloppy, and I could easily trip him. Instead, I sidestep and push him square in the back. His momentum throws him out of the ring and back to the ground.

He gives me no choice if he’s refusing to actually fight.

I stride to him and plant my foot on his back. I lean down, whispering so the crowd can’t hear.

“Stop holding back.”

I clench my fists, then loosen them. This is the choice I’ve made. This is the way it needs to go. I hope it’s the right thing to do.

The moment I move my foot, he jumps up swinging. I block it and counter with an uppercut to the stomach.

He cringes, coughing, but he takes advantage of my occupied hands before I can really recover. He takes the opportunity to jab me in the throat.

I stumble back, retching.

Fuck, that hurt. It distracts me enough that I don’t notice his fist until—

Flashes of light blot out my vision.

I realize that I’m on the ground, and this confirms it: It’s over. My shields still won’t come up, the static filling my head until his next strike seems to come out of nowhere.

In a moment of panicked delirium, I wonder if it hurts to kick someone so many times with paper shoes. It has to, right?

I think he’s saying something, but I can’t hear him. The ringing in my ears diminishes before he finishes, though, and I hear the crowd cheering. He nudges me onto my back, smirking.

“Looks like you’re mine, sweetheart.” He doesn’t wink. He doesn’t give me any sign. I guess I deserve this for egging him on so much. “What? No jokes? Nothing?”

He kicks again.

It brings a little life to my mind when the shield I try to throw actually absorbs the hit.

This boy has no self control, and he gets carried away so easily. I wonder briefly if I made the wrong choice. I glance at the timer, grimacing at the blinking 38.47 seconds. Such a short fight, and I’m a mess. I split my lips into a weak, bloody smile anyway.

“You’re such an ass,” I mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear. I don’t think I could speak louder if I tried. His face twists into one of anger, and he moves to kick me again.

“Kevin.”

He freezes.

I slide my gaze over to see that Connor has pushed his way into the gym. His eyes are hard, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“What do you want?” The bloody boy demands without turning.

“What did I tell you?” Saying nothing more, he watches him steadily.

Kevin slowly lowers his foot and steps away from me. As the crowd outside begins to dissipate, I struggle to sit up. Connor shoves past Kevin and kneels at my side, pressing me back down.

“What did you do?” I ask, cringing at the blood filling my mouth. That’s not right.

“I told him that he wouldn’t survive the week if you can’t stand at the end of this fight.” He smiles and cups my cheek with one hand, his other lightly resting on my stomach. His eyes go out of focus for a moment, then he sighs in resignation. “You’ll need to fix that.”

“It’ll be fine. I have something to tell you,” I murmur. “It’s important.”

He hushes me before I can continue.

“Later. You have to deal with the consequences of throwing the fight. Dummy.” He pats my cheek and stands.

He calls for the remaining Skulls to clear out. He looks back once before leaving me alone with Kevin again.

Kevin paces near the door, and I watch him warily as I slowly sit up. My head spins, blood is still trickling down my chin, and my body feels like a disaster zone, but I can still move. I’ll be fine.

“Did you really throw the fight?”

I narrow my eyes, trying to focus on Kevin. He’s stopped pacing, watching me now. I wipe my mouth and stare at the blood on my hand. I need to find out what Connor saw in there. After a moment, I look back at him.

“Yeah.” I give him a tight smile before spitting out a glob of blood. “You still won. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal.”

He takes a step toward me, but I raise a hand and he stops. I chuckle weakly and rest the same hand on my midsection. Pain lances up my sides and I have to force myself to calm down.

“Oh, shit,” I hiss, probing my awareness around my organs. I find a few ribs cracked, one broken, and… “My liver's bleeding, hang on.”

Kevin watches in horrified fascination as I phase my hand into my abdomen. It takes a minute for me to find the rupture and run a healing finger over it. I do the same with my ribs and slowly check for other damage I may have missed, but I don’t find anything.

Everything is fine.

I pull my hand out and wipe most of the blood off on my overalls.

“That’s crazy.” I can hear the uneasiness in his voice before looking and seeing it on his face. I shrug.

“This is nothing.”

I spit more blood out and wipe any remaining grossness off of my face with a sleeve. With this done, I heave my aching body upright and stride forward to stop directly in front of Kevin.

I put on a demure mask when I look up at him, reaching a hand out to cup his face. I catch a hint of a flinch, and it makes me smile.

“It’s time for you to go brag about your victory and for me to slink back to my cell. Enjoy this while it lasts.” I pause, patting his cheek. “Boss.”

#writing #my writing #bf #sawyer #connor #tw: naked bodies #tw: graphic violence #tw: body horror #maddart #bf writing #the collective

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