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[imasl0tforchallengers]

⭐⭐S T A R G I R L⭐⭐

[imasl0tforchallengers]

The taste of the 4th of July.

[imasl0tforchallengers]

The taste of the 4th of July.

[imasl0tforchallengers]

I WAS AN ANGEL

౨ৎ Paring: ballerina!reader x older!Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig

౨ৎ Summary: it’s winter and your on vacation at a cabin locked away with Art and Patrick. Spending the weekend teasing the men till they’re wrapped into your alluring nature leads to you getting them exactly where you want

౨ৎ Word count: 9.9k - well yes, ur girl went crazy !

౨ৎ Warnings: smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected) sex, age gap (reader early 20’s) older!Art and Patrick, inexperienced!reader, eventually filthiest filth, sugar baby!reader, mentions of Tashi, pet names, smoking (cigs), oral (m) receiving, fingering, porn with a lot of plot, size kink, corruption if you squint (it’s def there), teasing, fluff, a tad angst, so much praise kink, title based off Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey 🤍

౨ৎ Part one | two | three

The wind outside was frosted as it hit against the sealed windows of the cabin you’d been staying in for the weekend with no other than the only person you’d want to be cuddled up with on a cozy cabin trip in the hike of the woods on a winter like this one — accompanied by his best friend of course, Art and Patrick.

Tashi, making time for her off weekends of freedom being an underwhelming three times a year, was away with her daughter Lily on a girls scouting trip not too far by where you’d all been staying at in such a luxurious rental cabin.

And it really was the highest of class.

With eight bedrooms, each offering it’s own fireplace and balcony lookout to the fields of mountains and trees surrounding you. A beautiful avalanche of white dust covering trees was the scenery all around. You got to spend a week doing absolutely nothing but lying around the gorgeous place, and although the image of Tashi being uncomfortably out in the wilderness trying with all her dignity to get a signal to check her emails on her phone was a priceless sight to see — you knew that scoring such a win as to be stuck in winter paradise with two men who looked near godly walking around twenty four seven, was an opportunity you were never going to take advantage of.

It had been you and them watching movies all week. From silly romcoms down to chilling horror films that earned you the touch of Arts protective arm surrounding you as a shield, baking sweets with the blonde that was really overall unnecessary since the dozen of cupboards had been pre-stocked with all the foods and treats you could imagine before your arrival. But spending that time with him, laughing, and getting the tidy place all messy with cookie batter and themed frosting was worth it anyways. Getting closer than close. Falling head over heels for a man that had been someone else’s all while engaging in the most pompous wealthy people actives your friends back at the academy would of killed one another for. It was chimera.

And when it came to Patrick, although the two of you couldn’t quite be called the best of friends — Tashi had thought it would be better off if she reversed her approximation of keeping the two of you as separate as possible. Instead, you started spending even more time together. (Preoccupied of course) but settling the wall of any jealousy or tension between you both and the couple. And of course it probably would never be fully clear skies when Patrick was a man of such fiend for rivalry — even if for you, you’d just wanted him to like you deep down. And with the occasional bickering and obvious strive for Art and Tashi’s attention, you could now say the kinship between you and the tennis player wasn’t all bad for the time being.

It had been sunset when you were tidying up in the far end of the house that had been all yours as you glanced at yourself in the mirror of the grand bathroom. Bath tub behind you so large it could fit a party of ten at least.

You were braiding your hair into two dainty braids and your fingers worked quickly as you tied knots into little bows on the ends of your hair. Perfect and precious as ever you attempted yourself to be, getting ready for a dip in the hot tub on the patio Art had asked if you if you wanted to join him and Patrick — so of course you rushed to throw on your bikini. And just beneath you in the grand kitchen area, Art had been getting ready with his best friend to met you there themselves.

“Please ? I just wanna fuck her with the tutu on at least,” Patrick boasted to Art as he had been trying his hardest to bluntly ignore his friends comments about you, that had been in his perfect fashion of light hearted vulgarity.

“No.” Art replied giving the man nothing but an unbothered side eye as he searched the wet room they’d been in for a couple towels for the three of you, or at least you and himself since Patrick had been using the same one the entire time you’ve been there so far by choice.

“Come on,” the brunette laughed as he pushed Art in a way that was all too familiar to him, grinning widely as he burrowed in the fantasy of having solicited intercourse with you while his dear friend observed. “We’ll be stuck in this cabin together for the entire weekend, it’s bound to happen. You’ve been gettin’ virgin pussy all this time. I know you’re dying to share with me..”

“You say things like that and wonder why she doesn’t want to come near you.” Art chuckled, he shook his head at Patrick’s ignorance, “and you’ll probably just scare her away from wanting to participate in anything involving sex ever again, man. I just won’t let you overwhelm her, she’s still getting used to.. y’know-”

“Fucking?”

“Yes.”

“Well, your right, she’s only fucked you. So technically she’s still a virgin.” Patrick joked only to get under the blondes skin even more, and Art rolled his eyes away from Patrick’s obvious smirk.

“I could turn’er into a whole new woman.”

“You’re not touching her.” Art shrugged as he glanced at Patrick who wouldn’t give away the stupid grin on his face of wanting to cause nothing but foolery.

“I think you’re scared after I’m done with her she won’t wanna go back to you… so that’s why you gotta do it with me.” Patrick pokes Art in his exposed chest as they’d both been in nothing but their swim trunks. He looked down at the finger on his skin and then back up at Patrick’s face with a loose expression. Falling unconvinced.

“You know you wanna fuck her with me. See how she’ll react from the outside when someone else gets to make her cum.. it’ll be just like old times.” Patrick’s tone was laced with poison and desire the blonde would try to fight off till he ultimately couldn’t, grimace all over Patrick’s face as he described the image of you spread out for the two of them to enjoy, and Art would defend cutting the conversation short in response to an obvious tent forming in his trunks.

Art looked Patrick in the eyes as he called out for you,

“Baby, are you ready?”

“Yeah! Just a second!” You answered in chime.

Patrick couldn’t help but laugh in all seriousness at the fact that he had been this close to getting Art to submit to his desires and let him get his hands on you. When you had been so devoted to Art, and you had him wrapped around your finger, there was no way he didn’t think he couldn’t loosen the screws just enough by the time this little trip came to an end. He just had to keep trying, at the end of the day, it was all a game to him.

“keep dreaming. And grab the beer while your at it.” Art gave the man a generous pat on the back and sighed lightly with a fond but challenging smile as he walked around Patrick to the back door.

♡

When you had been pleased with your attire, you made your way down to the patio where you knew the two boys had been waiting for your arrival, in nothing but a strapy pink bikini underneath a bulky robe, you pushed the doors open to the nature and you’d been immediately hit with the brisk winter air — so thankful for the robe you’d decided to throw on, you scurried your way quickly to the steaming hot tub, and Art and Patrick’s eyes met your miniature figure skipping over.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold!” You pleaded as the air made you shake, and with a soft grin that turned into a laugh Art stood from the water he’d been adjacent in with Patrick to help you step into the tub, doing so you’d slipped your robe from your shoulders and let it fall as your smooth, shivering skin and dainty swimwear was revealed to the two.

“Careful, it’s pretty hot” Art chuckled as he held your delicate hand to guide you into the water.

“Good.” You breathed out as you settled in slowly, arms wrapped around yourself from the coldness and the steam hit your skin at the perfect rate — making you warm up from outside in. You let out a soft sigh as your body had released it’s tension. “Ahh”

Art’s sideways smirk was stuck to his face as he watched your adorable gesture already change the environment when you made your way over — and he couldn’t say he didn’t catch the eyes Patrick had been giving your oblivious state as you brought yourself to the two men in the littlest yet flattering bikini they’d maybe ever seen. Smile on your face like you’d hadn’t know how goddamn phenomenal you looked right then. Art still had a hand out to you as you’d both settled into the almost boiling water at this point, florescent lights from the jets hitting each of your faces even under the gloominess of the sky.

“Is that the set I got you ?” Art grinned at the way your bikini top had decorated your chest in a painfully perfect way. Dior. Your smile has been shy but girlish, you nodded coyly but with a soft giggled. You’d been waiting for him to notice notice that you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring it out of your wardrobe.

“Yeah. You like?” Your smile had widened as the blonde couldn’t have looked prettier right then, hair damp from the steam of the tub that had been hovering the water, chest glistening in the most stunning way which made made his pecks look godly and a certain boyishness look on his face. Your eyes glanced over how it matched the smile on his peach colored lips.

“Like? I love it and you know that.” Art’s tone was low and laced with adoration mixed with a hit of lust rising. He held a hand out to you, eyes filled with nothing but intentions of getting you as close to him as possible. You’d been too far in his opinion, even being in the medium sized hot tub that had the three of you in an acute triangle. “Come closer baby doll,” Art asked of you and you couldn’t stop blushing already when you slid closer to him in the water. Smile plastered to your face as the man took you in with his muscular arm over your shoulder.

Eyes lightly hooded as he looked down at the way you fit snug in his side and he had to stop himself from biting into your shoulder as a way to show his affection. Just your sent was overwhelming him.

From the opposite end, Patrick had been sitting quite still as he observed the two of you. Elbows hanging off the rim of the tub and he held a cold beer in hand. His green irises switched between you and the blonde as if you were purely entertainment as you basked in each other’s warmth that had been heightened from the temperatures around you.

Patrick could almost feel the way Art felt you. The way you wanted him.

He’s been trying to figure out what made it so easy for you to stroll through the cabin around two men feverishly much older than you, so innocently without a care or censor in the world going off in your head. — and not just that, but you’d hardly ever wore clothing that actually covered you up. This has been the most revealing Patrick had seen you, but it wasn’t all shock when you’d merely always been in shorts that were just right off of having your ass cheeks on display — along with the smallest mini tennis skirts and tops so tight it was hard to imagine how’s you even get yourself into them. He didn’t know if there’d been a dip in your brain or what, but he almost wandered if you acted the way you did on purpose. Like a lost lamb in heat for only the sake of getting their dicks hard and uncomfortable enough for your own pleasure. Or for Art at least.

Maybe you could of just been playing slut like most girls your age did when it came to older men. Whatever it had been, Patrick knew to have you all figured out ahead of time.

“Save some space in between, yeah?” Patrick had noted out in reply of your and Arts closeness, only grin spreading across his lips as he raised the glass of beer to them slowly as if he’d been some threat you both should stay aware of.

And he loved that.

You looked over his way from Arts peering eyes on you with a soft blush. Art had looked at Patrick and remembered what they’d been sipping on to offer you,

“Did you want a beer ? I told Patrick to grab the cold ones.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Patrick, pass her one.” Art eyed his friend as the pack of six had been hanging out on the bar beside the tub, but before the brunette could speak up, you stood from the curb of the small pool.

“Don’t worry, I got it” you smiled at both boys, but instead they had immediately gone to watch the droplets of water fall from your angel like body. And as you walked to exit the hot tub, you had to maneuver pass Patrick, which was a brief moment of his eyes just inches away from making contact with your breast being nearly one with his face. A shy kind of tint in your eyes as you climbed out and the water you carried splashed on the man while his eyes watched you in complete veneration. Only moving over a tad when he’d remembered you’d been literally trying to get out of the enclosure. And Art only watched, too mesmerized before he noticed Patrick had been staring just as much.

But even jealousy didn’t over take him right then when he saw the way your body was moments away from caressing the man, it was something more of yearning that took the lead.

You could of sworn you heard one of the men curse under their breath when you tuned your back to reach the table for the cold drink. Your ass had been of viewing now and you tried your best to hide an all knowing little smirk before you got back to them. Returning, Art didn’t even think twice before he reached for the can in your hands to open it up for you. The metal cracked with a pop and Art met your eyes again with a small grin as he handed it back to you.

“Merci” you giggled softly, as you relaxed beside him once again. Thinking to yourself before sitting comfortably, “y’know… there’s something I need to ask you both that I’ve been wondering for a while.”

With your delicate but filled, choice of words — both men had sat a little straighter in the steaming water at your voice, hanging on to your every note already as Patrick’s leafy eyes scanned your figure and Art looked down at you with anticipation for whatever had been on your mind.

“Yeah? What is it, doll face?” Patrick’s tone was low as he met your gaze for a brief second before you looked away with a coy scoff,

“Well… back at the academy a lot of the girls would constantly talk about it and - as embarrassing as it is - I just was never around boys much in my upbringing. Like ever. Most dance schools are pretty strict about that where I come from. So, I never got closure or a real answer. But you guys are boys...”

You couldn’t help but let out light girlish laughter after the hint to the male dominance of the atmosphere, and both Art and Patrick had matched your gesture with the sound of their laugher filling the air as they listened in on the way you spoke. It had been obvious they were both fighting the same urge to trail their vision to your exposed chest but you just pretended not to notice.

“So like, how do guys know when we’re ovulating?”

Art had coughed on the frozen beer that had been half way down his throat by the time your words fully got out, and Patrick’s grin only widened before he let out a louder laugh.

“Well-”

“Patrick- can definitely answer that one for you, right Pat?”

Art narrowed his eyes at his best friend sitting across from him in quick notion and your eyes flicked from the blonde to the brunette just as fast. His chuckle only fading some as he glanced back at you

“I mean, it’s more of a senses thing.”

“Like intuition, or?”

“A smell.”

“Oh-” you were slightly taken back by his answer as you snickered nervously. “That’s only a tad bit jarring I guess”

“It honestly comes with the package. Just a normal male thing, unless your consciously looking for it. I myself have a natural talent if you will.” Patrick’s smug was heavy as he educated you and you nodded in agreement, which made Art want to roll his eyes on instant.

“Because of the testosterone?”

“Likely.”

“Is it like that for you as well? Can you smell it?” Your wide eyes landed on Art again as you spoke in innocence that was almost too easy on the ears, the blonde met your eyes as he just lightly fondled with his ear in a fretful manner.

“Well, I- uh, it’s pretty much a normal thing. Like Patrick said. Not really an on or off switch.” The muscular but lean man chuckled and Patrick leaned forward as he watched.

“Art has you and Tashi around twenty four seven so he’s probably immune.”

“No. Not immune, overstimulated? Maybe.”

You watched between them as Patrick kept a sly smile on his face and Art had remained calm throughout the sultry conversation.

“Have you ever used it on me? Like- before we have sex or something..?” you peered up at Art through your lashes and Patrick had raised a brow at your new assertiveness — Art only tried to keep a cool state not too get too flustered as he sunk farther into the tub,

“Honestly babe, I can tell just from looking at you mostly. Like- how you look in those extra mini tennis skirts Tashi has you wear. The way your eyes sparkle a little more when you look up at me… When you’re being naughty.” Art went in to playfully nibble on your neck and you let out a string of giggles at the tickle off it as you fought him off with charm. But the blonde only grinned more as he pulled you in by the waist and he peppered kisses from your neck to your lips.

“I’d offer to say get a room but I don’t mind a little show.” Patrick inhaled deeply and when you turned to glance at him, hand staying on Arts jaw, you could see he had that idiotic look of arousal behind his not so hidden smirk as he sat man spread across from you both.

“My god. You’re such a perv.”

“Yeah? You love it, you’re a perv too.”

“I am not. I’m a girl,” you defended.

“And? Girls can be pervs also.”

“Or maybe you’re just projecting.”

“Art, your little play thing is talking back….” Patrick looked past you to his friend that was as used to the two of you naturally falling into bickering as anything else.

“Shut up.” You laughed, sending a light eye roll the brunettes way.

“You shut up.” He spat back at you like a tennis ball as he leaned up on the edge of the tub, broad shoulders flexing to catch himself and he reached for his pack of cigarettes. The man used his lips to pull a stick from box, he stared up at you with a glimpse of darkness in his pupils. “Want one?”

“Really?.. yeah.” You replied with chipper as you easily lifted yourself from Arts lap.

“Baby..” the blonde declared in a soft but alarming voice while he watched you stand, his hands slipped from your hips and he lost you to Patrick’s side of the pool with ease.

It was known to the two men that you hadn’t ever smoked before, and Art always had his dad instincts constantly lingering in the back of his mind. He couldn’t help it. He never wanted you participating in anything that wasn’t necessarily the best for you, and especially since Tashi would surely be against the idea of it at all costs. It was part of the reason why she wanted Patrick away from you — his influence and easy persuasion always getting to the best of any of the girls he could mess with. So Art knew how easy it was for you to let up to him.

“I just wanna try. Please?” You pleaded, and Art couldn’t say your pretty wide doe eyes and shape all too heavenly for him to deny didn’t steer him away from giving you a clean no.

“Yeah Art, she wants to try..” Patrick’s voice mimicked yours and he started to slowly but surely show his friend a sly smirk which Art replied with a daring look. You’d now been seated beside Patrick and Art had sighed out a deep breath as he nodded you off speculatively, which you then smiled excitedly in regard.

“You’ve really never done this before?”

“No.”

“What have you done?”

Patrick couldn’t help but poke you, and when you hissed with a soft smack to his broad arm that had been intimidatingly large. The man chuckled. You shook your head playfully which also released a few droplets of water from your braids and Patrick observed how your eyes had searched him from up close — he wondered if this was how Art felt when he looked at you. All senseless with a newfound kind of vulnerability like he’d be willing to your every need. But Patrick being who he was naturally, knew how to restrain from that part of himself and kept a mostly dominant state even at your first fruits. He flicked open his lighter and passed you a cigarette which you held with mostly confusion of what to do next.

“Don’t give her a full one.” Art narrowed at his friend.

“Alright, alright,” Patrick furrowed his brows as he exclaimed with his own cig hanging from the side of his lips.

The corners of your mouth inched up into a small simper as you watched the two men exchange with consideration of protection over you. Art remained a safety net always even if Patrick had challenged that assertiveness to him. And as much as Patrick was a hard case you didn’t underestimate your power to have him just as softened as Art was when it came to you.

“You can share with me.” The brunette notified you and you watched as he lit the end of the stick effortlessly and cupped the fire away from you with his ravishingly large hands. In one swift motion he passed the burning substance to you, which you inspected before your eyes met his face again — slight worry crossed you mind. But you didn’t let it show, “inhale that.”

You did inhale it. But it happened much faster than you expected because when the smoke hit the back of your throat, you began to cough instantly.

“No, no, no you have to exhale it eventually,”

“Yeah, because you totally gave her proper directions, Patrick.” Art huffed as he leaned up from attention to your coughing with growing aggravation at what Patrick had lured you into. Already regretting his notion to agree. Patrick shrugged with open arms and he furrowed his brows.

“Fuck off. I’m not good with kids.”

“I’m not a kid.” You responded when your coughs had dialed down and you swayed the smoke coming from your lungs away from you.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Patrick replied in a snarky attitude and you half groaned half whined at his annoying remarks, which had lead you to doing nothing but choking on air, literally. And it made Patrick have to refrain from letting out a chuckle because he’d known Art kill him.

“Relax. Just try again and remember not to inhale it too far. Just hold it in the back of your throat a little then release it.”

This time you did what he told you more considerately. Inhaling the smoke temporarily, then pushing it out with ease and Patrick watched you. His observation quickly turned into dilated pupils and a grin that liking spoke of mischief had widened across his face again.

“Atta’ girl.” He praised, and you supported a cheeky smile.

You held the cigarette in your fingers as you repeated the same all while keeping eye contact with the tennis player and he could of fallen trick for you soft but glory bambi eyes right then.

“How cool do I look?” You let a light giggle slip from your lips after you exhaled the smoke once again and passed the substance back to the man and he wondered if you or Art could sense the way his desire had basically broadened in the last twenty seconds.

And as Art watched you both smile in lust from each others presence on the other side of the tub he shifted as a perplex expression rested on your face. He observed the eyes you gave Patrick that he knew all too well. Pleading and filled with elite burning desire that he knew was just seconds away from setting Patrick off — he knew he had to get into stop it somehow.

He just didn’t like to be left out.

“It’s getting dark out, sweetheart. Why don’t you head inside and start setting up for s’mores ? I’ll come set the fire in a bit.”

Your eyes had trailed away from their fixture on Patrick to settle on Art when his voice came ruling in, But Patrick was still looking at you.

“Okay, yeah.” You said energetically as you lifted your legs out of the water that were wet from the knees down, fondly smiling at the two men before you grabbed your robe to head inside.

And when the patio door shut with your exit, Patrick ran his hands over his rugged half beard in a pace.

“Fuck, Art. She wants to fuck me.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. She told me. She wants to fuck us.”

“When did she tell you this?”

“Just a second ago. With her eyes.”

“Okay. So, she didn’t tell you that.”

Patrick huffed out and fixed the prominent bulge through his trunks that was growing fairly uncomfortable. Art looked down to notice and let out a soft chuckle of not very much surprise since he’d known the man sitting across from him like the back of his hand. Always just on the verge of needing to fuck whatever pitty excuse of emotions he had out somehow.

“For fucks sake, you’re unbelievable.”

“Whatever.” The man scoffed as he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his hips in a hurry. “She’s just as much of a slut as I am, and I’m gonna find out.”

Art watched his best friend exited from the pool, leaving a splash to hit Art in anxiousness to get to you. And Art scurried to dry off just follow after him.

♡

It was almost an hour that passed since you’d all been spaced in the living area as the dim lights situated the room in a way that was all too torrid for the atmosphere at once, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Art had been by the fireplace as he messed with the wood for a while till a brightening flicker over took the large cape and a small flame spread into a huge one in just a few seconds. You’d been sitting on the floor only a few inches away as you were putting a couple marshmallows on sticks (slipping a few chocolates in your mouth here and there) and when you heard the crackle of the fire come from Arts side room you glanced up at him with an impressive expression taking over your face and you clapped graciously.

Art couldn’t help but grin at your sweet gesture to which he found you all the more beautiful under the warm tones of the once cold room. You shook your head softly as the smile on your face hadn’t dropped when you focused back on what you’d been doing.

It was rather darker where Patrick sat on the couches not too far away as his forest like eyes watched the two of you basically flirt in secret code. He would usually find it all too soft for himself maybe, and to him, you’d just been a pint sized cheer squad for every time Art dropped a penny.

It was cute, he guessed.

What Patrick was more focused on was the way your eyes flickered to glance at him every so often.

Spotless and filled with attempt to say something. Anything. Just from the clear tension in the room, and as quite as it was — the brunette had to admit he was getting bored.

“Alright.” Patrick groaned as he stretched to lean up from his seat and your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the much taller man, seemingly giant from where you’d been on the rug, march over to where you’d been settled. Calmly but with a smoothness getting close enough to your face that he could read the quick nervousness fill your senses as your eyes searched him questionably, and Patrick’s own eyes scanned your rose tinted robe that you’d slung on, half fallen from your shoulder as he scoffed to himself.

“Just tell me. Do you want to fuck me and Art, or not?”

It came out as a mutter. But Patrick wasn’t the quiet type even attempted in the slightest. Art certainly heard and his eyes had snapped to where the two of you shared breaths with an immediate hardened expression.

“What the fuck, Patrick?”

“Just let her answer.” The other man spat back. And you fought not to bite down on your bottom lip as both men stare each other down. And with an irritated sigh, Art put his vision on you.

“You don’t have to answer him. Patrick just can’t control his dick — and that’s not your problem.” Art spoke sharply as his eyes flickered to the darker haired man who was in fact smirking.

Of course.

Both of their eyelines follow back to you.

And though you hadn’t needed to ponder for an answer, your bashful lashes met the floor anyways as you peered away softly. But all while keeping a dainty simper to your lips.

“No, it’s okay.. He’s right.”

With your words, you noticed Arts face soften, but not in a way you’d guessed — more in a perplexed manner as his eyebrows dipped. And on the other hand Patrick had been grinning to himself with a cocky chuckle coming from his lungs as he rested back on his palms.

“Simple. And easy. I was right, just like always.”

Art had ignored Patrick’s boastfulness and instead he rose to his feet and stepped over to where the two of you had been, you stood up as well — and you’d been immediately met with the blondes gaze on you, hand lifted to your cheek.

“Baby, are- - you sure ? You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything, Patrick can be very..”

“Charming, sexy, fucking unforgettable-” The brunette chimes in with a cheeky smile as he stood up to put his nose in the conversation between you two.

“A nuisance.” Art spoke over Patrick as his eyes went darkening with annoyance while he glanced over to the other nosy man.

“What? Do you think he’ll be too rough ? That I can’t handle it?” You laughed softly, “I can take it.”

“I never said you couldn’t.. but you are learning. And I get this is all new and exciting for you — and your sex drive is going to be heightened at this time…”

“Give the girl what she asks, Art.”

“Shut up. No one’s talking to you.”

“You’re talking about me.”

You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at the two men bickering now, both over a foot taller than you, making your neck begin to pain just a little as you glanced up at the pair. And although, you would been claimed very brave by most girls your age of how prominent your actions were towards teasing both of the men — you just couldn’t help but play with them.

A delicate sigh escaped you, “y’know.. if you aren’t nice to each other than I won’t want either of you to touch me.” You declare as you turn away from them and begin to walk away, but Art had grabbed on to your forearm and twisted you back around to face him.

“Hey. It’s just- - I’d never hear the end of it from Tashi.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” you began, and you searched the blonde’s expression for any ease which you failed to find — so you took your hand and reached up to gently caress the nape of his neck with your fingertips. “Besides, you’ll be involved. And therefore you won’t miss a thing.”

Your voice echoed songfully throughout Arts ears as he stared into your pretty eyes filled with desire, and just a spark of lust. You step closer to the man and your lips had been inches from his broad chest. It’s like your pleading eyes were like magic, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t fighting the urge to touch you all night long. He didn’t even care if Patrick watched — he liked showing you off anyways. Art pulled from your enrapture to look up at the darker haired man who was already pinned back at him. Chest inflating with a breath Art shrugged lightly.

“Fuck it. Fine.” He breathed out, and your smile had gone wide once again and you bit your lip with anticipation already. “But I need to prep you first.”

And with that Art had taken your hand in his as he lead you to one of the closest bedrooms nearby the floor plan, and Patrick of course, had scurried to follow after you both at the immediate note.

Your feet fastened to keep up with the blonde as the childish smile on your face had been filled with excitement to the rush where he lead you.

Patrick pushed open the cracked door as Art was lifting you to your feet on to the high bed where you stood ahead of him. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Art murmured while he looked up into your eyes through his aquamarine that had darkened with lust in just the short amount of time — soft grin taking upon his lips and you could sense his head just being filled with ideas by the second. It made your stomach do flips with yearn. Your nod quick as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and Art lifted a finger to your silk robe and gently pull it from your shoulders. As it falls, lace straps are revealed to the man and he observed the fabric, eloquent against your glowing skin with a chuckle. “What do we have here?”

“I knew she was prepared,” Patrick’s voice came jarring as he stood next to the blonde and your pupils started dialing by the contrast of the two men gawking at you now. One filled with alluring desire to almost tear what was left of your clothing to pieces — and the other softened. Needing to worship every inch of your petite body before he lost it.

Art pulled away your robe completely in one swift motion as his wide-set eyes never left your own, you wet your lips as your cheeks had began to heat up with anticipation, but nervousness at his quick movements — you stood beyond him, lingerie displaying that was stuck to your body, white with small pink flowers scattered across the cotton and lace. Arts breath hitched just from the sight and he felt so constrained in his briefs as the little pink bow trimming the lining above your core making his dick go painfully hard. He moved his large hands across you carefully. Almost like you were a doll that could break at any given second.

“These stay on till I say,” the man softly mentioned at your ear and you nodded.

You reached for his shoulder blades and the man inched behind your back to undo your bra, he let it fall from your arms before leaning over you to place a smooch your neck area — seamlessly turning into kisses that scattered down to your exposed nipples and you closed you eyes. Bliss took over you for a moment and you smiled. Your hold on him close to your warmth, and Arts fingertips felt the lushness of your skin from every part of you he could. “mmm,” you left out a soft sough as the blondes plump lips explored your tender buds and his tongue brushed up against you briefly, making you hiss for a moment.

His eyes had been examining you, but yours had been softly lidded stint you glanced in Patrick’s direction — to which, the other man’s mouth had been slightly agape, feasting on the view of you both in exhilaration already.

Art braced his hands under your thighs and he laid you down against the bed, your legs were pushed apart on instant but with all tenderness as he leaned up from you — your smile had never faded for a glimpse while the man moved you like a toy. His hands went quickly to pull your panties to the side and Patrick had circled the bed around you both as he stood in awe of the way you weren’t even trying to put up a sexy or proactive kind of facade at all — in fact, you’d been laughing.

Right then. Girlish giggles filled the air as Art grinned down at you in the rising heat of the moment. Already knowing of your ways — you had big, wide doe eyes watching the man take a finger and run them against your slick folds. He examined over your expression, to your already dripping cunt and you bit down on part of your lip. Watching him explore you in an expert manner. Art’s tongue darted out to wet his own lips, he moved his body to tower over your own and your lower back arched a bit off the bed when you felt the tips of his fingers just over your soaking entrance. Coating him in your slick wetness.

“That’s it, sweet girl.”

Art started sinking his index and middle finger into you painfully slow. You whined a little at the stretch before letting your head fall and braids spread against the comforter of the bed.

Your eyes had caught sight of Patrick looking down on you — so only giving him a playful but sweet smile laced with a kind of innocence and temptation that could of made his head spin. You could just read the expression on his face of how dare you even look at him that way when you’d lured them both into soon doing the dirtiest of acts with you in between. You were a fucking minx. And he then felt his mouth go dry.

“Holy fuck,” the brunette panted in a mutter as he quickened to lower his checkered green boxers to pull out his throbbing cock, stroking himself at the sight of your pretty smile — and cunt, taking Arts fingers so finely.

The soft yet high pitched sighs and moans that were coming from you were the remedy that pushed a complete solid hard on beneath Arts pajama pants as the blonde held your tender legs spread for him to get you ready for his and Patrick’s cocks. He watched you. Eyes filled to the brim with mercenary while feeling you clench and pulse around his digits. Slipping in and out of you, he used his thumb to rub at your clit and you whined out as your eyebrows knitted together in one motion.

“O-oh..” you moaned, reaching out for the man’s fit arm to grasp on to as your toes flexed.

“Good girl.” Art groaned.

You could hear the sound of Patrick jerking himself to the sounds of your moans and the sight of pre cum that was gooing on to Arts hands lead by the own tent that was prominent in sight to the man. Patrick let out a low noise of his own. And Arts eyes finally traveled from you to glance over at his friend,

“You wanna show Patirck what I taught you, princess?”

Your lips curled into a sly smile when you heard his word — you leaned up from the sheets and your legs swiftly moved behind you to now crawl over to the brunette standing by the end of the bed, cock hard and reddened with want for all that was you.

It was undeniable that he was bigger than you could of comprehended maybe, your eyes locked on him now from your knees. They travelled from his dick, to the way he peered down at your plump lips in enchantment for where your clues had left guesses, taking you by the gape of your neck almost immediately you let yourself lick a clean stripe from the base of his cock to the top as your tongue wet him nice and slow. Patrick watched the way you made sure to show him the shape of your tongue flush against him and he could of came all over your face right then. Large hands going opaque with veins to match his hard member, he gripped the hairs on the back of your neck as you cinched your lips to the tip of him.

“Shit, shit you’re fucking pretty,” Patrick panted at the sight of your eyes staying on his — you perfectly sunk him into your mouth as you sucked with ease and a soft whimper exited from the back of your throat. Knuckles turning white as the brunette peered at the way you took him so sweet, and you brought a hand up to jerk him farther past your lips all at once.

Art just behind your shoulder, watched as you could only fit Patrick half way while you throated him, your lips left spit as you bobbed your small head up his cock and back down. The blonde took reign of his own pajama pants and t-shirt to remove them just like you and Patrick had been now, and as the scene had been going on between the two of you, Art couldn’t help but maneuver himself beneath you, lifting your lower body up a bit effortlessly so he could fit himself underneath you — he tugged on your panties to get them off of you. Down your upper thighs and over your feet in routine as he discarded them off somewhere across the room.

His cock hard and dripping pre cum just under your pulsing cunt, you felt yourself clench just from Arts hips on yours already guiding you down his dick. Familiarly to him filling your tightness still made you pull from Patrick to let out a high toned gasps as you felt the other man sinking into your hole. “Mmm- - fuck..” you breathe out as you feel yourself being stretched so nice — Arts hands never letting up easy from your hips, he guided you all the way down his member just to let out a deep groan and move you back up again.

“Oh, shit..” the blonde panted. You kept your hold on Patrick as you stroked him even moving up and down Arts dick and letting out strangled moans from beneath the brunettes chest. “Come on baby, just like that- keep stroking him while you take my cock..”

“My god. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted us both.” Patrick huffed from the sight of you ridding Art with eyebrows knitted into another realm as you bounced up and down the blondes lap and Art couldn’t help but run his hands up your torso to your breast as you did. You placed your mouth back on Patrick and sucked him into letting out low moans of his own from your warmth around him.

“I could cum right now- - fuck, fuck !” he grunted, your hand had gone from moving quick to slowing down as you stroked his base and Art made you feel way to good inside — you didn’t know how much longer you even had in you as you’d gone light headed right then from the way he thrusted up into your soaking pussy, making your head fall back slightly and your words came out slurred,

“Oh- my-y god! Fuck..” you whimpered out as Art made your ass slap against his thighs from his pounding, he leaned up to peck at your neck and hold your body against his chest swiftly. You always remained content in his lap as you turned to kiss him back sloppily, moans and whimpers come from the two of you like a suppressed hunger.

Patrick felt his cock twitch with greed at the sight, “fuck Art, stop hogging her- - I’ve been practicing dying to feel that tight little cunt.”

The already much sweatier and rough man, pulled you off of Art, and launched you forward on the bed as your hands braced your plummet — he made sure your ass was up and superb for his viewing. You moaned as your face hit the mattress and you rose to your hands and knees.

“I know this pussy feels fucking amazing.” The brunette had been smirking as he palmed your ass and watched the way you turned to gaze at him with your own hazy fawning eyes that were full of a subtle plea to let him treat you like a whore. If you didn’t know before — you’d definitely known what I’d been like now. Patrick slid his dick over your soaked lips. You inched forward just from the feeling of the girth against you, causing you to hiss out a whine, not prepared or used to his size at all, it made you shake at the slight sensation.

“Keep still, baby doll” Arts hand had came to rub circles gently on your hip bone, your face consorted in uncertainty for a moment till you felt the blondes touch against your skin and you relaxed under his touch finally.

“Yeah. You’re a big girl, you wanted this remember?” Patrick added, he went to put his hand in your hair and you bit down on your strawberry reddened lips hard.

“Slow, please.” Your voice soft as you palmed the sheets beneath you to brace yourself,

“Slow.” Art repeated as his vision shifted from you to eye the brunette, leaning back on to his elbows beside you to making sure the darker haired man wasn’t pushing his luck.

Patrick raised a leg to get a better angle as he slapped the head of his aching cock a couple times to your puffy cunt, and he began to push in, taking his time to feel the way your tightness stretched fairly wide for him and when your jaw had hung to let out a choke moan, you’d been fighting the urge to give up on your arms strength. You took the man inch by inch. Whimpers escaped you like crazy and your legs began to tremble while Patrick’s lips parted to groan out deeply at the feeling of you clenching around him.

“There you go, pretty girl. Take my cock just like that..” he muttered as he started to fuck into you and your body had moved with his thrusts rather quickly, the man had been much more hasty to take you at a rapid pace on contact than Art normally did. His pelvis hitting the form of you ass and your soft cries matched the pace as he slid you up and down his throbbing member.

“Mmmh, fuck- your so- - big,” You watched as he grabbed on to your body and pounded into you. Patrick couldn’t stop himself now — your legs spread and nearly shaking just for him as your pre juices pooled at the bottom of his shaft. It was all too easy on the eyes for him to only take you faster. Your eyes had fought to stay open as hands come at you from every way at his escalated thrust.

Both of the men watch as you shudder to keep composure. The bows at the ends of your braids go wild on your back from the force of Patrick taking on your little body.

Art felt himself coming close just from the sight, he had to calm his own hand from stroking himself into finishing. It was like the sight beyond him had surpassed what it ever could of been in his fantasies. He wanted it in you after all.

Patrick pushed on your lower back which forced you to arch for him all the more, your face against the mattress, watching you take his dick while pornographic moans fall from your pretty lips. You turned your head against the sheets to meet Arts eyes in petition as you’d been pulsing so hard — in fear you may cum too quick for you little head to catch up to. Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw dropped as Patrick fucked cries out of you.

“Aww, you want Art to save you now? Poor thing.” The brunette coo’d at you and you could almost taste the smirk on his face right then as he watched your ass cheeks going red from his maul on your tight cunt. Art had run his finger tips across your face that had glistened with tears.

“I can- take it, I need more..” you whispered out. To which Patrick pulled out of you with a deep grunt, sack full as he could of came inside of you, but he too could agree. More. The man had simply taken place on his back , you swiftly adjusted your position as the feeling of being cockless inside had already increased your fine need.

“Yeah? Then show us how much you need it. Ride my dick like a good girl.”

You were already climbing on top of the man with abs that could of made your head drowsy all the more, you heaved softly as your much smaller legs adjusted over Patrick’s broad muscular thighs to position yourself to his member. Dripping with a mixture of his and your wet arousal. You sunk down on him more easily now and you winced with pleasure as you leaned back on your arms, head going with you as you started to feel butterflies down there from your first slight movement, moving your hips up his girthy cock and right back down.

Patrick moaned lowly as he held your hips there and helped you move, your tits daintily bouncing with your body in the low light of the room, and you could hear a muttered, “god” come from your side as Art leaned over your delicate shoulder to grope at your exposed breast. His bottom lip tucked in his teeth. You could feel his leaking cock run again your lower back causing you to moan as you took yourself upon Patrick’s hard erection ramming into you.

“You look like a fucking angel fucking yourself on his cock- - shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” The man groaned as he observed his best friend turn you into a whimpering mess.

“Ugh- -, I wanna cum. Fuck, fuck..” Your whimpers were heavenly and sweet, Art took the initiative to reach around you and rub at your clit the perfect pace — making your legs shake and you gasps out. “Yes- - yes, oh. Fuck!”

Patrick grabbed hold of your ankles so you’d keep your balance on top of him, his thumb grazed against your white lace frilled sock and he groaned. To him they were so stupid, but at the same time so fucking hot.

“Cum, princess. Go ahead, Be a good girl for us.” Art slow talked you and it made your eyes flutter as you couldn’t have been filled more with burning lust all over your body as the men brought you right to where you wanted like that — shaking and crying out moans as you had came hard on Patrick’s dick. Your movements became sloppy as you heard groans coming from him as well, just before he pounded up into you hard and released his own ropes inside your sensitive heat — feeling him pump you full had you whimpering out his name.

You lifted from his cock in overstimulation, but Art held your body so you wouldn’t fumble over.

“Oh my god, holy- - fuck,” your grin now of bliss, string of naughty words and giggles left your puffy lips as you sighed into Arts shoulder and he was smirking down at the way his fingers rubbed your now creamy cunt and the blonde laid you back against the comforter again.

Completely cock drunk and breathing heavy as your heart beat caught up with your breathing, Art didn’t want you losing your overstim too quickly — he was already towering over your petite body and sliding back into you at the second your eyes met his and you reached for his arms immediately. Jaw open as you let out a choked noise. You couldn’t catch a break. Just being filled up again. You lock eyes with the gorgeous blonde above you as he stretched you wide once again.

“You’re so fucking good, sweet girl. Just one more, for me..”

All knowing you’d do whatever he longed for, the man sweet talked you slow as he watched Patrick’s seed drip from your drooling cunt and met the tip of his cock as he began to sink in. You kept your legs spread for him. Round eyes glittering with adoration for him like worship, you stared up at Art — so obedient for him always.

“I wanna cum again for you, I can-” you tried to speak fairly normal through soft gasps when Art bottomed out into you, reaching that spot Patrick lit up within you, your head went cloudy again and released into the pillows priming you. “-do it.” You finished your sentence with a whine.

Art couldn’t help but to grin at your state, so tired and fucked out but so turned on by the way the two men had been taking their toll on you back to back. You couldn’t help but take it all — he held your body, pussy so full from cum and Arts member that filled you excellently. You began to shake and tremble with a whimper at his every slap against your sensitive cunt.

Your hand moved to your face unconsciously you took your thumb in your mouth to balance the sensations all at once, moaning as the blonde pounded you into the bed — he watched you bite down and suck on your own digit in euphoric bliss. He soon reached to remove your own hand and replace it with his, sliding his tip against your pump bottom lip before dipping his thumb in your mouth.

You let out a satisfied little chirp as you run your tongue sloppily over the man’s digit with a smile before sucking on him like it was everything you needed. Eyes shutting softly, he pleased you both orally and by the clench of your pussy. “mmmh” you whimpered out and Art kept fucking into you with a quick pace.

“That’s my girl. I know exactly what you want.” He kept his finger in your mouth before your legs were shaking with need and your own hands gripped his one as you cried out from his thrusts, the blonde panted at the slight of you beneath him so prolific and exposed — he couldn’t even think straight before he was spilling his load inside of you. Keeping himself flush to your cunt as he emptied himself with a low grunt and you ended up squirting on his cock with a muffled scream.

“Fuck, you got her to squirt.” You heard Patrick pant and by the looks of his hand covered in his own arousal, you and Art had both been knowing he came again. Sweaty and chests heaving you both melted into each other, your arms immediately going to wrap around Art as he squeezed and kissed you.

“Are you good, baby? Was that not too much for you? You took a lot just now.” Arts voice came in calmly as he looked over you for any signs of turbulence. His fingers graced your flushed face, wedding band cold as it brushed against your skin. You nodded as your breathing finally caught up to you steadily.

“Yeah.. Fuck, I feel good. You both came inside of me..” your words slip out as if you needed to convince yourself of the matter, like you hadn’t been on your back and both of the men’s cum wasn’t gushing out of you as you speak.

Art smiled softly at you and his tired eyes watched the sparkle in yours. He readjusted himself so he was lying beside your left — and Patrick collapsed against the pillows on your right.

“Fucking hell, Art. I just can’t believe you kept her all to yourself this whole time.”

“Yeah? She’s something isn’t she?” Art replied with a grin as he turned your way and continued to run his thumb over your cheeks and lips. Your blush was heightened at the two boy’s marvel over you, lip between your teeth as you let out a light chuckle.

“I hope you had fun, Patrick. She’s still all mine, right angel?” Art glanced down at you.

“Sharing is caring.” You shrugged in a teasing manner as the blonde scoffed playfully and raised a brow in thought before nodding, “okay, maybe a little sharing.”

Patrick laughed, “you call that a little ? We made her cum twice. You let me fuck her like a sl-”

The brunette was cut off at the blonde hitting him in the forearm then gesturing to you — sound asleep in between the two.

Your soft breaths slip through your lips as your head fell into Arts shoulder. He put his finger to his lips to warn Patrick not to wake you, and he leaned up from the bed slow. “Pass me my shirt on the floor, and grab a towel from the bathroom.” He whispers to the other man who carefully moved up from the bed and threw the T to Art before he went to grab a towel for your body.

Art started to maneuver his shirt on you with tenderness so you at least wouldn’t wake up naked and confused.

When Patrick came back he smirked at the way your small tiresome figure had been passed out on the bed like some sort of sleeping beauty. “See, I did that.” He nodded up at Art with the same darkened lustful eyes he began the night with — but Art only rolled his at the man’s cockiness.

“We did that.” He corrected while he ran the towel over your inner thighs lightly before he lifted your limbs to lie you beneath the covers, and Patrick helped him pull them over you. You only let out a quiet noise from the movement as you continued your slumber and the two men watched you for a quiet moment.

Arts lips curled up in a fond smile before he bent to leave a kiss to your forehead — the blonde looked over at the brunette who had folded his arms over his chest while he watched with a raised brow and Art contemplated before leaving another peck against your skin.

“And one from Patrick too, I guess.”

A/N: I love this little uv I’ve created sooo bad you guys <3

[imasl0tforchallengers]

,,THE PURGE”

a/n: this was based off a really good request 😝 working on another request too btw

warnings: dark!rafe, manipulation, NONCON/DUBCON, hair pulling, choking, threatening, knife play, carving initial into readers skin, strong language, piv, unprotected sex

summary: the purge happens but you don’t have enough time to find shelter, then rafe comes across you

As the sirens blared, you started freaking out. Your hand travelled to your pocket, pulling out your phone, you had no idea who to call or who to text, everything was going to shit already. The only reason you were outside is because your own family tricked you into going, they said they needed you to grab something, and once you were completely outside, they locked the door.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, head moving in every direction, eventually towards an alleyway. You sprinted towards it, hiding besides the dumpsters that were against the wall, you were too busy looking over the dumpsters to hear or see somebody approaching you from behind, but eventually you heard them, and turned your head to the side almost immediately. A scream fell from your lips instinctively, but never got out because the person slapped a hand over your mouth and on the back of your head.

He started whispering to you as soon as your voice fell silent, “I’m gonna take my hand off, and you’re not gonna do anything, okay?” you nodded slowly as both of his hands retreated. “You know me, it’s Rafe, m’gonna help you, but you have to trust me.” He reassured you, and it’s not like you had anywhere else to go. You mouthed the word okay, and he took your hand and started leading you somewhere, he was very cautious with his movements, monitoring everywhere you guys walked upon, your ears rang with gunshots, and it disturbed you.

Rafe was taking you to a small house situated near Tanneyhill, you could tell it was freshly built, it was roughly the size of John B’s house. He let your hand go as soon as he reached the door, his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a key. The key slipped into the lock on the doors handle, twisting. A click could be heard as he turned the door knob, opening it, the door starting to creek quietly. You both entered, Rafe staying back by the door to close it and lock it. Curiosity filled your head, wondering where the rest of his family was. Your eyes were done searching everywhere, eventually turning your head to him to ask your question.

When you turned your head, you were met with a knife pressed roughly to your throat. “Y’know, you were dumb enough to trust me before this, and you’re still dumb enough to trust me now?” He was towering over you, the knife wanting to cut you.

He tutted as your eyes grew wider, “Now, you can’t do shit. Nobody is gonna help you, and if you try anything, I’ll leave you out there to die, or I’ll kill you myself. Got it?” He questioned, but your response wasn’t fast enough for him, causing him to take his other hand and pull your hair back.

“I’ll slit your throat, don’t think I won’t, so fuckin’ answer me.” You nodded the best you could, his hand restricting your head movements. He let your hair go, causing you to fall back a little, the force disappearing from your neck, you held the spot where the knife was forcefully placed, still getting used to the feeling without it. Rafe grabbed your shoulder and turned you around, then moving his hand to the back of your neck. Every time he stepped, you stepped with him.

You had no idea what to look for, but you realized he was guiding you into a room, presumably a safe room. He shoved you in, then turned around, closing the metal door and locking it. You knew you were naive, but you didn’t know this was how naive you are, your heart was racing, what was he gonna do to you? Was it gonna be bad? Well, obviously it’s gonna be bad, it’s the Purge. You were near the end of a bed when Rafe started slowly approaching you, natural instincts made you back up, eventually reaching the foot of the bed.

His hand rushed to your throat, grasping it tightly. “In what world, made you think I wanted to help you, hm?” He asked, the knife still equipped in his free hand. It was pressing against your leg, sliding against your skin and cutting it, he raised the knife in his hand and looked at it, then going back to you. Your eyes were begging for him to let go, your own hands clawing at his. The metallic object was now tracing over your thin strapped tank top, threatening to cut a strap.

The knife cut the strap with a little more pressure, making the left side of your tank top reveal your bra slightly. Your breathing became more shallow, you could feel yourself giving out, but just in time, Rafe let go of your throat. Since you weren’t used to your whole body weight being put in your own hands for a few minutes, you fell towards Rafe. He put one of his hands on your shoulder, steadying you, then swiftly pushing you on the bed. You fell backwards, a gasp slipping off your tongue, but you quickly caught yourself with your arms.

“Just be quiet, you don’t want anybody else to hear us, or else it’ll be them doing things to you, yeah?” He whispered to you, unbuckling his belt and throwing it on the floor. Tears welled up in your eyes, dropping down every once in a while, the bed dipped down with weight as he grabbed your legs and pulled your towards him, his bulge pressing against. The sudden pressure on your clit made you moan quietly, making Rafe smirk. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down, eventually pulling them all the way off once they made their way to your ankles.

Your white lacy panties were then revealed, a slight dark gray spot showing, stained with your arousal. Rafe traced his thumb on your clit, making you groan in pleasure, “Shit, wet f’me in a life or death situation?” he laughed lowly. He pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to reveal his twitching cock, leaking with pre-cum. His hand traced the sides of your panties, making you whine in a moment of neediness. He put them to the side to reveal your aching pussy, dripping in your natural wetness. The occasional screaming and crashing outside distracting you.

He took his dick in one hand and traced it up and down your cunt, his other hand occupied with the knife. After deciding it was enough, he slid inside you, your pussy was tightening around his cock, making him groan at your pulsating walls. You moaned a bit loud, making Rafe shove his fingers in your mouth, a gag coming from you. “Be fuckin’ quiet, if people come in here, you’re the first one coming out that door.” He said, glaring down at you. Your hand came to his, your mouth swirling around his fingers. He groaned at the sight, thrusting inside of you, speeding up the pace. Your legs spread wider, a way for him to gain more access.

Rafe smirked at the sight of you under him, just begging with your body language for more. Eventually, he got the best angle, and you loved it, his tip kissed your g-spot, making you hum against his fingers to suppress your moans. Even though you were forced into doing this, it made you feel filthy even if it seemed like you like it, you were getting dicked down by Rafe, during the Purge, and you hated it even though it made you feel so good.

The knife started tracing the skin of your stomach, making you flinch in surprise, the knife cutting your skin in a straight line. You let out little ah sounds as Rafe continued, the mix of pleasure and pain was about to send you over the edge. The cut on your leg was done bleeding, but you were about to deal with two more. After he was done with the line, he moved on to drawing a curved shape right next to the beginning of the line, both combined it was formed to be the letter R, for Rafe.

Moans turned into muffled pleads, but your own mind didn’t know what you were begging for. It must’ve been because you were so close, and the pain just brought you closer to an orgasm, “Yeah, you like that?” he whispered. The sounds of skin colliding over and over again filled the room, even with desperate attempts to quiet it down. There was no windows in the room, so you were guessing you guys were safe, even though you, in general, weren’t.

You finally let yourself reach the edge, trying to hold yourself from biting Rafe’s fingers, the only reason was so you could suppress your moans easier. He could feel your tight cunt squeezing around him, pulling him in more and more, “Shit, gonna make me fuckin’ cum by the way your pussy feels.” he groaned, picking up his pace and making more rushed, rough thrusts. He dropped the knife and put both his arms by your chest, his head dipping next to your neck, his grunts and quiet groans filled your ears. Your hands were brought to his neck, wrapping around as your legs did the same but to his waist, allowing him to pound into you, the overstimulating sense filling your body.

His thrusts got sloppier, eventually slowing down and doing brief, deep thrusts instead. You could feel him twitch against your walls, his seed filling you up, his hot breath up against your neck. After he was done catching his breath, he lifted his head up, looking down at you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your chest moved up and down, catching yourself from your own orgasm. He got off of you and pulled his boxers and pants all the way up, grabbing his belt and holding it in his hand, then sliding it through the loops situated on his pants.

Your hand traced over your stomach, feeling the wound Rafe created. You got up and grabbed your shorts, pulling them up your legs and putting them on, you got off the bed and looked at Rafe, blood evident on your abdomen and leg. The feeling of Rafe’s cum slowly dripping down from your cunt made you cringe. He looked at you, walking towards you, when he reached you, he grabbed your wrist, “I’m not done with you after this.” he said. You didn’t know what to say to that, except just try to pull your wrist away from his hand. His words made you scared, and that’s exactly how he wanted you to feel. After this day, nothing will be the same.

[imasl0tforchallengers]

so wrong, it's right; part 2. (patrick z. & art d.)

pairing. ex-boyfriend!patrick zweig x f!reader x stepbrother!art donaldson

genre. SMUT!! comedy, slight angst.

A ski trip with old friends sounds like a fun time, right? When your ex-boyfriend (who you hate but somehow always end up in bed with) and your stepbrother (who you are harboring not-so-secret feelings for) tag along at the last minute, you have a feeling it won’t be an uneventful weekend. But fun? Debatable. That remains to be seen.

warnings. art is oc's stepbrother so stepcest. deepthroating, cunnilingus, public sex (public washroom & ski gondola lift), voyeurism (videocall), dirty talk, patrick's daddy kink and art's stepbro kink. there will be mmf threesome in the last chapter! so if you don't like any of that, don't read!

word count. 16k+

01 | 02 | 03 (finale)

----

It is the ringing of your cellphone that wakes you up some hours later, the room now bathed in sunlight when you blink your eyes open. There’s a slight movement downstairs at your lady bits that makes you gasp and shudder. You look down to find the two hands still intertwined together with two fingers from each still buried deep inside you, then over your shoulders to see Art sleeping so close that you feel his steady breathing against your skin. 

…. And that’s when memories of what happened come flooding back to you.

It was the shock that had you sitting up hurriedly, removing yours and Art’s hand away from you in the process. As you sit still to process everything that happened last night, now realizing it wasn’t just a really amazing dream and that it was real, Art groans in annoyance at the loud ringing of the phone before turning over to continue to sleep.

Not wanting to disturb him, you shake yourself out of your daze to grab your phone from the side table and quickly hop out of the bed to run to the washroom. In your still frazzled state, you answer the phone after closing the door behind you with a quiet but sharp, “Hello?!”

“Honey!” Your mother’s voice fills your hearing. Eyes widening, you begin to sweat profusely. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You shake your head hastily, but then remember she can’t see – and thank god for that, because looking at yourself in the mirror, you are a mess in more ways than one. “No, I actually woke up a few minutes ago!”

“That’s good! Say good morning to Hannah for me!”

Oh, right… She thinks you slept in Hannah’s room last night. You chuckle awkwardly with a weak o-okay, before you cover the phone to fake call out to Hannah, “My mom says good morning.”

In a much higher voice, one that doesn’t even sound remotely like Hannah and while adding much more distortion to the line by smacking your palm on the voice mic, you say back to yourself, “Oh, good morning to her too!”

Luckily your mom seems to buy it, moving onto the next subject. “So how is it there? Are you guys having fun?”

“Yeah,” You begin, about to run your hands through your hair but you catch sight of your pruney fingers, a result of what had transpired between you and Art. You squeak, balling your hand into a fist behind you as you nervously babble, “It’s been fun! Really fun!”

“I’m glad!” Then she takes a pause. When she speaks again, her tone cautious, “How about Art? Is he having a good time?”

You swallow, flushing hot as you look into the mirror and see all the bruises on your neck that Art gave you. “Um… I, uh, think so?”

“Your friends treating him well?”

“Y-yeah, mom. Why wouldn’t they? His friends are here, so he’s fine.”

“I’m just making sure! But… I’m glad they are. I hope being around all of you is helping him forget about his breakup. He hasn’t seemed depressed about it, right?”

Blinking, you totally forgot about how Art just got his heart broken. He showed not even one sign of the usual post-breakup depression phase that you’ve seen every one of your friends has gone through. “No, he seems really good actually… Oh, except yesterday, he fell and hurt his back –“ your mom gasps, “-Don’t worry! He’s fine! I made sure of that. Patrick and I went with him to first aid and he got checked up. They said he’s all good and nothing is broken.”

“Aww, honey,” you could hear the smile in your mom’s voice. “That’s so sweet of you and Patrick. Thank you for taking care of him… I’m so happy that the two of you are getting along. I mean, you have always been nice to each other but I’ve been really wanting the two of you to get closer. You know your aunt is like my best friend, and I know Art is not related to you by blood, but I want the two of you to have a bond like what me and my sister share… So this is making me so happy. I’m sure Collin feels the same. Last night, out of nowhere, he was like, What do you think Art and ____ are doing right now? I hope they’re hanging out. Wouldn’t it would be nice if they became closer friends–”

With every word your mom continues to say, you feel yourself getting more and more burdened with guilt and shame. Your mom and stepdad are wishing and hoping for a loving and wholesome family, but here you were, letting your stepbrother finger you in the middle of the night.

“____? Are you still there?”

You snap out of your brooding thoughts to answer, “Yeah, mom, yeah. Sorry, I just spaced out. Um… I have to go. We wanted to head out earlier today, make the most of the day.”

“Oh, of course! Tomorrow, you’re coming home early, right? You have to help out with dinner and—“

“Yes, mom. You know that if I don’t make the pumpkin pie, Christmas will be ruined,” you joke and she laughs. You would have laughed too if you weren’t feeling so out of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow…Yes, okay… Love you too.”

Once off the phone, you strip off the only thing you were wearing, your shirt, and head into the shower.

As the hot water washes away all the evidence of last night’s sins, you tell yourself that it will never happen again. As much as you do want it to happen again, it’s not right. And in the long run, stopping it before it could really begin would be better for both you and Art. Where is this even going to go? It’s not like the two of you could start dating, all la-di-da with no care in the world. 

Plus you are sure he regrets it. Patrick’s his best friend, after all. 

Finished with your shower, you step back into the room with just a towel wrapped around your clean body. The plan is to run to your suitcase, grab your clothes, and leave; but you find yourself standing still at the door, longingly gazing at Art who is still sound asleep.

With his blond curls like a halo and adorable pink pout slightly open due to the side of his face pressed on the pillow, he is so pretty and angel-like that he makes your heart speed up… And your pussy ache sadly, when your eyes trail over the length of his cock.

You look down, reprimanding yourself with a ‘stop it, you dumb bitch!’, then you move to stick with your plan. After quickly getting dressed in the washroom, you leave the hotel room without another delay.

---

Though you might be sensible enough to end whatever it is you and Art had, you’re not strong enough to stop yourself from doing what you always do when you are feeling sad and lonely.

Or more accurately, who.

“Zweig!”

You find Patrick standing in the line of the breakfast buffet that Daisy had told you he would be when you came up to her and Ewan to ask (pretty frantically, if you were being honest) if they had seen him.

At the sound of his name being called so loudly while he is still at that sluggish just-woke-up-ten-minutes-ago state, Patrick jolts with a startled yelp, the pastry he was just about to put on his plate drops to the ground instead. He stares at it in shock, stomach grumbling in distress. Then his gaze goes to the pair of boots in front of him, trailing up slowly the length of the body for the reason his hungry heart is breaking. Meeting your eyes with his sad ones, he announces forlornly, “You made me drop my croissant…”

You frown, genuinely apologetic. “Oh, I’m sorry…”

Then you close the space between the two of you, placing your hand on his forearm as you stand slightly on your tip-toes to murmur in his ear, “Let me make it up to you, daddy…”

Patrick nearly drops his plate full of the food he had been salivating over for the last ten minutes on the ground. Nearly. But if he had, he wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. Because he’s hungry for something else now. And that something is you.

----

Ah… Patrick has missed this.

You, on your knees in this men’s bathroom stall you had dragged him into, wet eyes pleadingly looking up at him, and your mouth hotly wrapped around his cock as drool trails down your chin. It is such a pretty sight, one that he thought he would never see again in real life after what had happened…

But there you are, literally begging for him to keep fucking your face with that look in your eyes, and it’s not just a dream.

With his hand gripping tightly on the back of your head and the other pressed against the stall’s wall, he thrusts his hips forward, the tip of length hitting the back of your throat. He groans when you choke up slightly, gagging around him. Yup, definitely not a dream, cause no dream of his ever felt this good.

“Fuuuck, you’re always s-so good…” he praises through his shallow breathing, hips still moving languidly as he fucks into your mouth. You preen at the praise, fingernails digging half-moons on his thighs as you move forward to take more of him. “Pretty mouth always so starved for my cock… Take it so well…”  

The way you swallow around him to emphasize his point had him cringing, desperately pulling out to fight off the need to finish. With eyes shut, he tilts his head back to think of something that will stop himself from climaxing all over your face. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just yet. He wants this to last a little bit longer.

It works and he sighs with relief. The sound of your snicker brings him back to reality, so he looks down to see the teasing looking on your face. “Aww… Why’d you pull away, Patty?” you frown mockingly, dipping down to lick and suck on his hanging, full balls. “I’m a little bit disappointed. It would have been cute to see come so early…”

“Shut up,” he bites back, eyes rolling. Then he jerks your head back by the hand grabbing onto your hair, growling lowly, “And get up.”

You get up so quickly that it surprises him a bit, not even putting up a fight like you usually do when he commands things from you. It was Patrick’s turn to smirk, knowing exactly why you are acting so obedient now.

Letting go of your hair, Patrick places his hand on the small of your back instead and pulls you towards him until you are pressed together chest to chest.

“You should be happy that I put it off, baby…” Patrick murmurs coyly, closely watching the way you wet your lips when he grinds against you. His eyes flick up, catching yours, both your pupils blown wide. “We both know how disappointed you will actually be if I didn’t save it all for-“ he cups your mound, smirking sinisterly when you whimper at his touch, “- your greedy. Little. Cunt.”

“Patrick,” you whine, hands coming up to clutch his shoulders when he puts more pressure in his groping with every word he said. “Hurry— Please…!”

“Uh-uh…” He wags a finger in front of your face, head shaking as well, clearly disappointed by the way he loosens his grip on your pussy. “Come on, baby, you know better tha—“

He yelps before he could finish his sentence, you snapping forward to bite his wagging finger the cause of that.

“What the hell, ____?!” Patrick questions in disbelief as he cradles his hand with the other to inspect the damage, while you tilt your head back laughing. Patrick couldn’t even stay mad because of how endeared he was, his expression softening at your pure and joyful reaction when a second ago, you were desperately humping his hand.

“I’m sorry… I don’t even know why I did that,” you tell him honestly, still in between fits of giggles. As an afterthought, you add in deadpan to appease him, “Daddy.”

“Wow, you… You’re a little brat, you know that?” Patrick tries not to smile as he says this. But it’s hard, his lips betraying him more when you nod your head playfully and answer his question with a cheeky I know. So he clears his throat, knows that he has to stay in the role, and deepens his voice to say, “Well you know what I do with brats… Turn around.”

“Oooh… I’m quivering with fear!” You say as you throw your hands up and make yourself shiver, but once again, you do what he asks of you anyway and turn to face the toilet – the lid already closed over it, of course.

“You better be,” Patrick warns while grinning. His hands are on your hips as he shifts you exactly how and where he wants you, feet apart and angled to the right corner where the stall has a bit more space for the two of you to move. “Bend over.”

When you do just that and brace yourself with a hand on the wall in front of you, he crowds you from behind, hands grabbing and groping every part of you with much desperation.

“What h-happened to being just friends?” Patrick questions. “You really miss my cock that much, huh?”

You couldn’t answer when he starts palming at your pussy again. Instead, you were in the middle of a moan when he put his mouth on you, stealing the air in your lungs with a sweltering kiss. You didn’t mind at all.

It doesn’t take much to get right back into the heat of things, as if the silly little intermission hadn’t even happened.

Craving to feel you as badly as you need him, Patrick still has his mouth on yours as he pulls your pants and underwear down to your knees in one swift motion. But when he feels up your slit, fingertips slipping easily into your folds because of how wet you are, he groans while you shudder and whimper. Turning away from the kiss, your head hangs down as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth opens in a silent moan.

“God, ____… Don’t…” he begins, panting hot breath against the side of your temple as his fingers continue to prod inside you shallowly.  You have, by far out of all the women he has ever been with, the sweetest pussy he has ever felt. Always so tight and wet and hot that he could never get enough. “Please don’t ever change…”

“Hmm?” you hum in question, not really hearing what he said because you were already a little lightheaded from his fingers. The answer you get is Patrick replacing his fingers with his cock, stretching you out completely with every inch he slides into you, keeping you and himself steady with his hands on your waist. A high whining oh my god leaves your mouth once he is fully inside you to the hilt.

Muttering a series of fuckfuckfuck under his breath, Patrick drills into you over and over again in a pace so fast and punishing that your head lolls down even more from the overwhelming feeling. His cock curves so perfectly inside you, feeling so full that you can come from that alone. But he also knows you and your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly how to drive you wild and how to fuck you until you forget everything except his name. That might be why you always go back to him. And it might be stupid of you but with all the things that just happened, that’s exactly what you needed right now.

You were so close, with Patrick hitting your G-spot repeatedly, you were so, so close –  

He stops abruptly, and you were about to whine and tell him to keep moving, but you hear him groan your name, his hands digging into you tighter. He is trembling as he continuously fills you to the brim with his cum, and that’s like your ecstasy, eyes rolling back as you begin to babble mindlessly, too far gone to care about how embarrassingly fucked out you sounded, “O-oh my god, da- ah-ddy! Your cum feels so – oh - good, filling me up so much! Y-you’re coming in me so much… Please – hnng - don’t stop, daddy…!”

With one final brief thrust, Patrick empties inside you completely, shuddering as his head falls into the crook of your shoulder, becoming oversensitive by the way your walls are still clenching uncontrollably around him. At that moment, he desperately wished that you weren’t wearing a turtleneck. He wants to kiss your neck, mark you up again knowing that the ones he gave you from the last time you were together had already faded away. But you had insisted on keeping your top on when he had tried to get it off you earlier, and now a fleeting thought that maybe you already had marks on you from another guy that you didn’t want him to see crosses his mind.

Patrick growls suddenly, pulling his softened cock out of you to turn you around to face him so forcefully that you squeal in surprise. With his hands pinning both of yours on the wall, you meet his dark gaze with a whimper. It is so intense and fiery that it makes your heartbeat accelerate, core throbbing as you meekly ask in a small voice, “Did I do something wrong, daddy?”

He opens his mouth, about to ask what was on his mind: Are you fucking other guys? Guys that aren’t me? But he stops himself, knowing his possessive jealousy is unwarranted, especially since you are not his. Not anymore. And he only has himself to blame for that.

So he just shakes his head at the question then crashes his mouth against yours.

He puts everything into the kiss, perhaps as a way to remind you that it should only be him. Instead, a little voice in the back of his head reminds him of all his past mistakes, and that maybe for him, you  really are the only one, but you could do better than him. He pushes those thoughts away with a snarl, slipping his tongue in your mouth to forget.

Fervently, your tongues get reacquainted quickly, swirling around each other in perfect harmony.

Letting go of your wrists, Patrick cups your jaw with his hand and the other on your waist to draw you closer. Your arm wraps around his neck as you tilt your head to kiss him deeper, while your other hand feels his abs and how deliciously hairy his body is. 

You’ve always loved the way Patrick kisses. Sometimes, when the two of you were still together, you would just sit on his lap and kiss him for hours and be content with that. And right now, you find yourself content with this, even if you hadn’t even cummed yet.

After a few more minutes, Patrick moves away and you lean to try and catch his lips again, but he is already pressing it on your chin then the underside of your jaw. You let your head tip back and soon he starts to kneel, placing more open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest and stomach, wetting the fabric of your body-hugging white turtleneck shirt with his saliva.

He still loves you, he thinks to himself. It is so obvious now that he is down on his knees in front of you, the tip of his dick nearly grazing the dirty washroom floor and not even caring at all because he just wants to make you come.

I would never do this for any other girl, he thinks as he leans to lick up his cum that had trailed down your thighs. He looks up when he hears you whimper and finds you looking down at him, eyes half-lidded and breathing shallowly. So pretty and so fucked out for him. He keeps your gaze as his tongue takes the first swipe up your slit, your legs wobbling as you slump and slide down the wall slightly, mouth opening in a silent moan. He then wraps his mouth around your sensitive clit causing you to break eye contact, your head tilting back to hit the wall hard, not feeling any pain as you mewl daddy multiple times when he begins to suck. With two fingers, he slides back the cum that had leaked out inside you, groaning in satisfaction when he feels that you are still full of him.

With his mouth and tongue sucking and licking your clit, and his fingers pumping in and out of you, it doesn’t take for you to come undone, crying out his name instead of daddy. Patrick fingers you through your orgasm and he is catching all the juice that seeps out of you with his tongue. All the while, he is still watching the changing expressions on your face, joy blooming in his chest at the beautiful mess he has made of you. He places a kiss on the inside of your thigh when your orgasm starts to subside, once again thinking about how much he still loves you.

---

“Did you know Rachel and Manny are sleeping with each other?”

Turning off the tap, Patrick raises a single eyebrow as he flaps the water off his hands and looks to the side over at you. In front of another sink two down from his, you are leaning close to the mirror to fix your smeared lip gloss. 10 minutes have passed and both of you are trying to fix yourself up as best as you could so nobody would ask questions when you meet up with your friend. With your clothes properly on, and face and hands cleaned up now, the only thing that could possibly give away what the two of you were doing is the stench of sex. Luckily, you had a rollerball of your favorite perfume with you.  

“Wait… Seriously?”

You look at him with wide eyes, nodding wildly. “Yeah, seriously! I just found out yesterday!”

Patrick's mouth turns down as he thought about it, then he shrugs, quickly accepting the new fact. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Ew, what do you mean, that makes sense?! It doesn’t! It’s gross!”

Patrick chuckles. “Come on, ___. Don’t you think it was bound to happen? They’re always at each other’s throat that the only possible next step is tonguing down each other’s throat-“

“Stop,” you shudder, and Patrick laughs harder at how genuinely grossed out you look.

“Anyways… I think I kind of already knew? Or at least, thought they were into each other,” Patrick states with another shrug. Then he chuckles again, remembering something that happened recently. “Actually when Daniel and I were hanging out with Manny a few days ago, he was freaking out that Rachel was going to kill him if she found that he told us you were coming here.”

He stops laughing abruptly when he realizes what he just let slip out. Shit.

“Huh… interesting…” He hears you say, and he clears his throat out of awkwardness. Crossing your arms, you turn your body fully towards him, calling his name for his attention. He peers at you carefully, seeing the knowing smirk on your face makes his cheeks heat up. “If I remember correctly, you told me you didn’t know I was going to be here…”

“Uh…”

It is only after you jut your head forward a bit and raise your brows to urge him to explain that Patrick finally relents with a deep sigh.

“Alright… Alright… I lied. I didn’t come here to help Paul get over Daisy, or to hang out with the other guys, or to go snowboarding, or anything else…” Patrick admits truthfully. Then he looks straight into your eyes, “I came here… because of you.” Softly, he adds, “Just you.”

The smirk disappears from your lips, your mouth gaping slightly open instead because of his honest confession.

He stuffs his hand in his pockets as he continues, “I know I don’t deserve a… Where are we now? 76th chance? –“ He chuckles bitterly at his own joke but a frown just graces your face. He blanches at the sight, cursing himself for being so insensitive in his head. “Sorry… That’s… I’m sorry… I… I know I’ve been a complete asshole for screwing things up between us over and over again. But I… I’ve changed-“

“Patrick…” You cut him off and he nods, knowing why you had.

“Right… I know I’ve said that so many times before… But this time–” Patrick shakes his head, deciding not to go on with what he was going to say. “Never mind… Talk is cheap…” His eyes are on you again, just as intense as before, “But I just want you to know that for me… It’s you. It has always been you.” He grins sadly, “And I’m all yours – for real this time – if you’ll have me.”

The two of you must have stood there, completely still and gazing into each other’s eyes, for only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. It’s hard, it really is, especially since you know the only sensible answer is no, but something is preventing you from saying it.

You open your mouth, and you don’t know why, but you answer with, “I think we should—“

The door swings open, and you both turn to look at it, only to see Manny and Daniel peering inside.

“Dude, I fucking told you it was them!” Manny bellows, laughing equally as loud as he punches Daniel’s upper arm. “Who else could it have been?”

Daniel glares, rubbing his arm. “I don’t know, man… Maybe two of the other 500 hundred people staying here?!”

Manny shakes his head, then proceeds to walk into the bathroom to smile gleefully at you and Patrick. “Thanks to you guys, I just won $100! And also, hate to break it to you, but everyone at the hotel heard the two of you fucking!” Manny smirks at you, “You’re really loud, ____…” You narrow your eyes at him and he adds teasingly, “Don’t worry! You sound hot though, so don’t be embarrassed.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Manny,” Patrick growls, glaring at his friend. When Manny doesn’t move and just keeps giggling, Patrick rolls his eyes and walks towards Manny to push him and Daniel out. Patrick looks back at you when he has successfully done his task, his expression looking anxious as he asks, “Can we, um, talk later?”

When you nod, he returns the gesture with a weak smile, and then he is out the door.

Now all alone, you heave a sigh. Maybe it was better that you got interrupted. Now you’ll have some time to think about it instead of answering with your heart.

From your pocket, you take out your phone to see a few dozen new messages. You check them one by one:

[8:42 AM] Amandla: uhhhhh girl… is that you and Patrick having sex in the men’s washroom near the lobby? Oh nvm it’s definitely you two lmao, get it!!! but jsyk EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU! have fun though babe xxx

[8:50 AM] Paul: YOU DO KNOW THAT THERE ARE POOR INNOCENT CHILDREN STAYING AT THIS HOTEL RIGHT ?!?! HAD TO GUIDE A GROUP OF THEM AWAY FROM THE WASHROOM BEFORE THEY WERE SCARRED FOR LIFE !!

[8:35 AM] Daisy: Hey where did you and Patrick go?? [8:54 AM] Daisy: Nvm I just heard from Lala and Paul HA!

[9:15 AM] Rachel: REALLY?! REEEEAALLLY?! PATRICK??!?! AGAIN!? BITCH I’M SO MAD A T YOU EVERYONE CAN HEAR THE TWO OF YOU, YOU SLUT AND NO, I’M NOT USING THAT AS A TERM OF ENDEARMENT THIS TIME

Each message had you blushing more and more deeply, even though you know it was an exaggeration. Only the 50 or so people who had walked by or were about to go into the washroom but turned around instead because of the sounds, had heard the two of you. But little did you know that by everyone, your friends had also meant Art.

—-----

You’re avoiding him, Art knows this. It became clear the moment he woke and found your side of the bed empty, the spot where you had been sleeping already cold.

It sucks and it hurts, but Art gets it. What happened last night is a lot to take in now that his head is clear and not bogged down with fatigue.

Still, he doesn’t regret it… Not at all, not even a little bit.

Though he’s not sure you feel the same. Especially since it seems like you had left early to seek out your ex-boyfriend. That was something he would have like to have not known at all, but when he found Jacob, Manny, Rachel and Daniel huddled closely together at the lobby, the three boys giggling while the girl looked pissed off, he was curious to see what was happening. So he went up to them and asked, and Jacob answered through his laughter, “You hear that right?”

Confused, Art listened closely as the others tried to hush their laughter so he could hear better. It took a few seconds, but then he heard it, the moan of daddy coming from the men’s washroom a few feet away. He swallowed thickly because the voice sounded eerily familiar.

“Dude, I’m telling you! That’s Patrick and ___!” Manny said.

“Shut up!” Rachel told him harshly, her frantic eyes flicking to Art for a second. “It’s not!”

“Come on…” Manny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “You’re just saying that because now you owe me $25. I guess this “mystery guy” that you said will sweep _____ off her feet is no match for the Zweiganator!” He turns to Art with a big, dumb smile, “Right, Art?!”

While Rachel told him once again to shut the fuck up; Art grimaced, disgusted.

Manny’s face fell, looking apologetic. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t want to hear about your stepsister this way…” Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Sorry, man…”

“It’s fine, I don’t really care,” Art bit out. But he does cares, so fucking much.

“Out of all of us, Art’s probably the one the most used to it,” Jacob commented with a laugh. 

Yeah, and that’s the fucking problem, Art thought with irritation.

“Oh, noooo….” Daniel stopped laughing suddenly to moan in agony, slapping a hand on his forehead. “I also placed a bet that ___ wouldn’t go back to Patrick this weekend.”

Manny pumped his arms, as he cried gleefully, “Alright! $50!”

“Ugh, I’m leaving!” Rachel announced, then she looked around. “Come on, let’s go. I’m telling you, it’s not ____ and Patrick. When we meet up with the others, they’ll be there, and then I’m gonna get the last laugh!”

Jacob shrugged and began to follow her, tipping his head towards Art, “Let’s go? I’m starving! I hope they have croissants!”

“Yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Art said with a nod, though he wasn’t hungry at all, not anymore. He just wanted to get out of there quickly.

“You guys go ahead,” Manny said, absentmindedly waving them away as his focus is still on the bathroom door. Rachel angrily mumbled something that sounded like if this asshole thinks I’m going suck him off ever again… under her breath before storming off. But Daniel stayed back as well, and the last thing Art heard before he couldn’t hear them anymore was, “Bet you $50 that if we go in there and look under the stalls, we’ll see those fuckass Nikes that he refuses to throw out…”

And when Art, Rachel, and Jacob met up with the others in the dining area, Rachel sat down on an empty chair stoically, not greeting the others back who had said their good mornings, and instead hid her face in her arms that she planted on the table, and then screamed into it to muffle her despair.

You and Patrick weren’t at the table.

And now, one and a half hours after breakfast and once again standing in line for the gondola lift, Art looks down at a pair of fuckass Nikes that are basically falling apart, and thinks to himself that it’s pretty safe to assume that Manny is going to be $100 richer soon.

Art frowns and looks away… Only for his gaze to find you instead, whispering with Hannah and Rachel, looking a bit like you were bickering with the latter. You must have felt his eyes on you because you look his way, only to avert your eyes quickly, looking down to the ground. That makes him frown deeper.

A gondola arrives, and the first group consisting of Manny, Daisy, Ewan, Amandla, Daniel, and Rachel goes towards it, but at the last minute Rachel doesn’t go inside, stepping back to the waiting area as she explains how she doesn’t want to be around Manny at the moment. Manny screams out how he will miss her though, his duchess, before the attendant closes the door on his face, which has both groups – although now separate - howling with laughter.

Then the wait begins again, the next gondola will arrive in about 2 minutes.

With Jacob now preoccupied with flirting with Hannah, Art steps out of their conversation to observe quietly. He watches how Rachel is at your side now, her chin on your shoulder as she looks up at you with a pout and her arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You murmur something that Art lip-read as I guess I forgive you, and then you sigh before leaning down to kiss Rachel’s forehead, making her squeal with glee.

Though he is still feeling down, Art finds himself smiling softly at the sight of you looking happy.

It doesn’t take long for Art to notice that he’s not the only one watching you.

Maybe it’s because Patrick’s voice is usually blaring loud in Art’s ears whenever he is around that Art subconsciously searched for what Patrick was doing, he was being so suspiciously quiet. But lo and behold, when Art finds him, Patrick is longingly gazing at you too.

Of course…, Art rolls his eyes.

With his frustration suddenly building up, Art’s need to talk to you does also. He has to know what’s going on, what’s going to happen between the two of you… If he doesn’t figure out what’s going on in your mind and where you stand, he is going to go insane with overthinking and other shitty thoughts.

As the next gondola comes into view, approaching the station that the attendant beckons your group to be ready, Art thinks that it’s now or never.

So he goes closer towards you, just a step behind, as the gondola lands on the moving track. Meanwhile, Patrick and Paul make their way into the gondola first, followed by Hannah and Jacob. And then when you were about to move, following Rachel’s lead, Art wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you back.

Stunned, your eyes widen at him as your jaw drops slightly in confusion. Rachel looks back too, her expression the same as yours, so Art grins at her and explains, “You guys go ahead. It was so crowded in there yesterday that it will be better if we catch the next one!”

“Oh… Yeah, yeah! You’re totally right, Art!” Rachel nods eagerly, already walking backwards to the gondola, knowing she’s betraying you with every step and not caring a single bit, “That’s smart!” turning to you, a sly smile spreads on her face. “We’ll see you guys soon then!”  

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you watch as their lift leaves the platform to start its trek. The inside of your mouth feels hot as anxiety starts to take over. You had not planned to talk to Art so soon. You were intending to… But… Not just yet.

Art’s presence at your side feels so commanding even if he had already dropped his hand off you.

“We need to talk about what happened, ___,” you hear him say, tone sounding stern. It makes you worry your bottom lip, looking up at him through the corner of your eyes and see that his gaze is still following the lift your friends are on.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, voice scratchy. You wince at that before clearing your throat to answer a bit more boldly, “I know.”

That’s when he finally turns to you, a tight-lipped smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. An awkward silence arises, neither of you knows how to begin. Maybe with an apology?

You decide that’s probably the best bet, carefully figuring out your words in your head before actually voicing it out loud. But as you were thinking, Art breaks the silence as he lets out a sigh then says, “First thing’s first… I’m really sorry. If you’re uncomfortable about anything that happened last night, then I get why you’d be avoiding me and— Shit…”

Art’s face suddenly pales, looking sick to his stomach, and the sudden shift has you worried. “I - I didn’t cross the line, right? Forced mys—“

“Art, no!” you object quickly, head shaking frantically. “That’s not—! It’s —!” You are at a loss for what to say to make Art believe that he didn’t do anything wrong, your heart rate speeding up as the look of devastation stays on his pretty features. You glance around, glad that none of the other people in line seems to eavesdropping in the conversation, then you take a step closer towards Art to take his hand, squeezing it tight so he will pay attention to what you had to say next instead of blankly staring at the ground and overthinking. He stares at your hand for a few seconds in surprise before meeting your eyes.

“Everything that happened last night was good and I… I really, really enjoyed it…” You tell him sincerely. A little spark of hope lights up his blue eyes, but then you look down and drop his hand. “But that was last night… And…”

“You regret it…” Art provides for you, frowning.

You furrow your brows at him. “Don’t you?”

“No.” Art shakes his head with no hesitation. “Not at all.”

It takes you aback how so sure of his answer Art was.

“But… Our parents are… We’re…” You trail off, embarrassed to say it out loud.

“So?” He questions with a shrug, head shaking a bit that a few stray curls falls over his eyes, he peers at you through them. “I don’t think we did anything wrong… And I wouldn’t even hesitate to do it again… Because I really, really enjoyed it as well.”

A small part of you was screaming to tell him that you wouldn’t hesitate to do it again either, but luckily the level-headed part takes over, making you let out a ragged breath before telling Art, “E-even if I want to as well, it’s still a bad idea. Not only because of the obvious reasons but you’re getting over a break-up as well and—“

“As bad of an idea as waking up early this morning to find your asshole ex-boyfriend?”

In an instant, your mouth clamps shut. Wow, he called you out, just like that. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“No, you’re right,” you admit with a humorless chuckle. “That was a bad idea.”

Then you realize something… 

This is the first time you’ve heard Art say anything derogatory about Patrick that wasn’t in jest. Then something else dawns on, looking back on the past few days.

“What’s going on between you and Patrick?” You ask, suspiciously. “You two are barely talking or hanging around each other… Did something happen?”

“Wait…” Art looks genuinely shocked. “He hasn’t told you?”

You’re getting nervous now. “Told me what…? What’s going on, Art?”

Art scoffs out a laugh of disbelief. “I thought it would have been the first thing he cried to you about when you got back together after Tashi dumped his ass…” 

You raise a brow, not following who or what he is going on about.

Who the fuck is Tashi?

“Patrick and I haven’t been friends for a few years now. Haven’t seen each other or talked to each other until this trip.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. “What?”

Art shrugs. “Let’s just say we liked the same girl a few too many times.”

“Oh… That’s…” You trail off, feeling a little regretful that you had a hand in the fallout between Art and Patrick.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Art says, as if reading your mind. “Even if you or Tashi weren’t in the picture, it was bound to eventually happen. Patrick and I — we would have drifted apart regardless.”

Though at the way his voice wavered, you don’t even think Art believes that himself. 

As the next gondola approaches into view, Art thinks he might as well say all that he is mulling over since this is probably the last time he could talk to you like this.

“Well, since we’re laying it all out… You should know that I’m not really getting over a breakup—” you give him a perplexed look, and he explains, “I mean, yes… My ex-girlfriend did break up with me a few days ago and sent my ass packing… But it was my fault entirely and I don’t blame her… I, uh, called out someone else’s name when we were…” his brows lift as he omits the word, allowing you to fill in the easy blank. “It happened a few times actually, so I guess the breakup was long overdue…”

The implication of whose name it was he had called becomes abundantly clear by his unwavering gaze into your eyes, causing you to heat up all over.

Art thought he would slip up and call out Tashi’s name while having sex with his ex since Tashi was the one he had been crushing on so hard while in Stanford, but it was your face and your name that was always on his mind whenever his cock got hard. 

And whenever he called out your name, he didn’t regret it at all.

“So I know a thing or two about bad ideas as well…” Art drawls slowly, head tilting to the side in a way that has you wishing you were another one of those bad ideas.

As if reading your mind, Art says, “Let’s make another one.”

“W-what?” you stutter nervously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to go on the lift,” Art starts to explain his proposal, nodding an acknowledgment towards the attendant who tells the two of you to get ready to board. Grabbing his borrowed snowboard off the barricade he had placed it to lean on earlier, he says, “I’ll leave it up to you to follow me or not. If you don’t, then the next time we see each other at the hills, we can forget everything that has happened… No hard feelings… But… If you follow me…” He is close to you again, leaning forward until the two of you are eye-to-eye, his gaze burning to your core. “I’ll show you what a real bad idea looks like…” Then he moves closer, his lips against the shell of your ear, murmuring so only you could hear, “Remember… I did promise you I was going to make your pussy cum over and over again today…”

He straightens up, grinning when he sees you noticeably shiver, pupils dilating as your breathing hitches.

Your wide eyes stare at him unblinking, feeling yourself getting turned on at the idea of— No. He couldn’t possibly mean it.

“I-in there?” you ask shyly as you look at the gondola getting closer, hating how so obviously intrigued you sounded.

Art smirks. “It’s your choice to find out…”

Then he begins to stride towards it, coolly as if he already knows what choice you were going to make… But on the inside, he was actually really terrified that you won’t follow.

The clock starts ticking for you to make a decision.

To go or not to go? Make another terrible decision, your 3rd in just under 7 hours, or finally live a simple and sin-free life? It’s a hard choice to ma—

Oh, fuck it.

You pick up your skis and poles as well, hurriedly, so you could catch up to Art.

To be honest, you’ve made your decision the moment he told you he didn’t regret it.

You bump against his back just as he was about to step foot onto the lift.

“Sorry,” you squeak as you take a step back, looking away while you burn up furiously. Art lets out a soft sigh of relief, smiling as he grabs your ski equipment from your clutch.

“It’s okay. You can go in first,” he says, and you nod, doing as he says. He follows after you, placing the things he was carrying down at the far side of the lift before sitting down at the bench opposite from you. He turns to thank the attendant who was about to close the door.

“No problem…” The attendant says warily, a lanky boy who looked no older than 19 with a lanyard around his neck that his name tag Finn W attached to it. He clears his throat and points to the panel inside the gondola. “On the side, please press the button of the slope you are intending to go to. If you don’t press anything, you’ll be dropped off at the beginner’s slope. You could stay on if you change your mind, but they’ll put in people who are waiting at the other stations when they see the doors open up. Pressing the button will ensure the doors won’t open and the gondola won’t slow down at the station you don’t want to get off on. You can also change your mind about which station you get dropped off on by just pressing another button, except of course, the stations previous. You’ll have to get off and take a gondola returning here to go a station back. The line queues at the other stations are about an hour long, I’ve been told.”

“Thanks,” Art says again, though you’ve both heard the speech yesterday. You press the button to the intermediate slopes that all your friends were going to. The boy lingers a bit, following the slowly, slowly moving gondola, which makes you and Art stare at him in confusion. It looks like he wanted to say something but was also fighting in his head not to. Finally, he blurts out, “Also! FUN FACT! Lots of movement inside the gondola has a 34.9% chance of detaching the gondola from the wires! I know it doesn’t sound like a high percent chance but anything could happen! Please be safe!”

Then he closes the door quickly out of discomfort from speaking out, and it’s safe to assume that Finn has heard bits and pieces of yours and Art’s conversation.

While inside the gondola, you and Art burst out laughing - silently thanking the poor attendant for eradicating the awkwardness between the two of you. Outside on the platform, Finn holds up his radio and presses the talk button after heaving a demoralized sigh. “Yo Gucci Gang, I think we’re going to have to do another deep cleaning of the gondolas today… Especially…” He double checks the tag of the leaving lift. “026.”

“Fucking seriously?” Caleb comes through the speaker. “I just heard that Gaten had to clean up one of the men’s washroom at the lodge an hour ago because some freaks decided to fu—OW! ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I’ll stop swearing! Sorry, Sadie’s being a little bi—“

The line goes static then completely silent in just a matter of seconds, and Elliot, another one of Finn’s coworker/friend speaks up next, “RIP… Anyway, why are there so many horny fuckers here this weekend? Pretty sure I heard some couple roleplaying as those British Royal couple last night when I was filling up the ice on the 2nd floor… And not even the hot young ones… The old ones… Charles and what’s her name… Camilla?”

“Last night, there was the threesome going on at the 3rd floor as well,” Gaten comes in hot with the fresh new info. Snickering, he adds, “One guy was the gladiator and the other was a prince. Also, something about riding the dragon.”

An influx of many voices comes through the radio, all just expressing their opinion on all the things they just heard in either a form of laughter or confusion, like Millie’s reaction of, “What the actual fuck is wrong with people these days?!”

“Gross…” Finn answers into the radio after everyone calms down, cringing. “Well, I told the 026 couple some bullshit facts about the lift detaching if there’s a lot of movement… Hopefully, they bought it… I would hate to spend my Christmas Eve cleaning cum off the seats… AGAIN.”

----

“34.9%…” Art hums in thought, already smirking. The gondola is shaking as it starts to lift up and out of the station, and the vibrations cause both of you to think that the attendant's little fun fact wasn’t at all bullshit. He catches your eyes, still sitting opposite of him with your legs clamped together tightly in between his that were spread wide, and he lifts a single brow out of amusement, “That still seems like a pretty high percentage to me…”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Considering…”

You peer out the window at the side of the doors, amazed and slightly scared that it was already so many meters off the ground and the lift just keeps climbing and climbing. Yesterday - and the many other times you have gone here before - it had never worried you, always just in awe of the pretty sights of the snowy mountains and evergreen trees. But today, right now, as you look back at Art and drink in his alluring appearance - his arm casually resting on the ledge of the window behind him, legs spread wide and thighs looking so inviting to sit on, his dark gaze on you – you felt anxious. In a good way.

“I’m still willing to risk it…” Art declares suddenly, still carefully watching you. “If you are…”

You swallow thickly as Art changes his stance to rest his elbows on his knees, intertwining his hands in the middle as he waits for your answer.

“Well…” Heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears, you shift closer to the edge of the seat, letting your knees graze his hands purposely. He didn’t have much time to react to that, because you move onto unzipping your coat as you say, “I’m already here…” His mouth hangs open as you shrug it off with a wave of your shoulders, your chest out towards him as the jacket falls to lay behind you, so seductively but he’s not even sure you were aware of how much you affected him. “Aren’t I?”

At that answer, Art licks his lips before grinning, unclasping his hands to instead grab the underside of your knee with one to pull you to him and pat his own thigh with the other. “Come here then.”

Under his command, you stand up cautiously, your hand gripping the back of the bench you were on for support and the other on Art’s shoulder. Art does his part to help as well, his large hands are on your waist to keep you steady.

Your plan was to take it slow. Sit sideways on his lap like a lady. Maybe make out a bit before getting into the heat of things.

But then there’s a literal snag in the plan when the gondola gets caught on a slight snag on the wiring, causing it to tremor harder than you had ever experienced before. Panicking, you fall forward with a high-pitched squeal. Luckily, Art’s speedy reaction of wrapping his arm around you and pulling you down to sit on him saved you from breaking your nose on the window behind him.

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides as a form of comfort.

As you nod, you have a déjà vu of this happening already…

Oh, right… Yesterday, with your ex-boyfriend instead.

The thought doesn’t stay long on your mind though, already forgotten once you realize you were straddling Art’s leg, your already aching core pressed against his thigh.

And you weren’t the only one blushing at the comprehension. Art is thoroughly loving the warmth the two of you were exchanging because of your close proximity. But most especially, the heat of your sex against him. He remembers how slick and hot your walls were last night, clenching so tightly around his fingers.

The thought of that and just you surrounding him, taking over all of his senses, has him hardening underneath you.

You take a shuddering breath when you feel this, wrapping your around his neck as you take the first tentative glide against him with a brief movement of your hips. “I-is this okay?”

His grip on you tightens as he helps you along, pushing down your hips to grind harder. “More than okay.”

You start moaning softly as you keep rubbing, pace gradually increasing, slipping in cute little whines here and there that has Art murmuring soft praises of how well you are doing. But the friction against your clit is already proving to be too much, making your eyes close the same times your mouth drops open for a silent moan.

That solidifies Art’s impression of how really sensitive and responsive you are, which makes him all the more excited to fulfill his promise of making you come repeatedly. It will be a challenge in this cramped space to put you in the positions that always had the girls he has been with before screaming and begging for more, but he likes the challenge.

Though that could wait for later, because right now, he’s enjoying this view of you falling apart on top of him by your own doing. While he hears your sweet voice whimpering his name, Art feels like this - where he is right now - is better than heaven could ever be.

It’s only when you feel his hot breath fanning on your lips that you slow down to a near halt. Blinking your eyes open, you were just in time to see him gazing at you in pure wonderment, murmuring in quiet disbelief, “I finally have you right where I want you…”

Then he closes the gap, his mouth on yours for a bruising kiss.

As the two of you get wrapped up with each other – frantic hands grabbing the other, teeth nipping lips swollen, everything being done so frenziedly as if it to make up for all the years the two you danced around each other – neither of your notice the gondola accelerating forward, speeding up to catch up to the one in front. It does this because it is critical that there must always be only a 50 M distance between each gondola or else the imbalance can cause accidents.

So as the two of you continue making out like it’s the end of the world – you are, once again, grinding on Art’s leg in a desperate attempt to get yourself off – the lift that your friends are on is already in view.

When you get the first text message, phone chiming behind you in your coat pocket, that is when you and Art finally break apart for air. You both look back at where the sound came from, but ultimately, shrug it off. Turning your attention back to Art, he has his hands on your waist again and he is moving you again because he wants you to come as much as you want to too.

“A-aren’t you hot?” you ask shakily, already fingering the zipper on his coat and pulling it down halfway. He nods, muttering a husky yeah, and the two of you work together to get his coat off quickly. Underneath, he only has on an black thermal turtleneck under a white polo shirt with a Adidas logo– 

Oh! You freeze up at the sight.

Art stops his hurried kisses along your jaw when he notices this, worriedly searching for a hint of the problem in your eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” you start, but then you shake your head and smile instead, pressing your lips on his as a way to say everything’s fine. Against his lips, you reassure, “It’s nothing… I just…” You run a hand down his chest, feeling the familiar soft material of the shirt that you wore the last time you had the best solo orgasm of your life. You blush some more, wondering why you are still so embarrassed about what you did while just wearing his shirt when you are basically humping the life out of his leg right now. “N-nevermind.”

When you try to kiss him again, Art turns away. You pout slightly when you see the smirk on his face, about to voice out your displeasure of his teasing, but then he says, “You were thinking about that summer, weren’t you?”

Your lungs seize up and your gaze widens in shock. “I—you—I don’t know wha—“

“Don’t play dumb with me, baby…” Art cuts you off, cradling your chin tenderly as he tilts his head to the side, his brows furrowed. You swallow audibly.

“Aren’t we past acting coy about this?” he asks with a grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. He demonstrates his point by lifting his hip slightly to add more pressure on your core, causing your head to hang down as you bite back a moan.

After you gather yourself slightly, you look back at him, biting your lips as you question, voice small, “You saw me?”

“Saw you what?” he asks, feigning innocence, “Saw you…" He places his hand on top of yours still on his chest and makes you clutch his shirt tighter. “Wearing this shirt..?” He leans in and you hold your breath as his mouth hovers close to yours, “And screaming my name…?” Then he looks down, “… While humping a pillow the same way you’re humping my thigh right now?”

You follow his gaze at where you are still slightly grinding on him, unbeknownst to yourself. Immediately, you stop, covering your face with your free hand out of humiliation.

“Don’t be shy…” Art murmurs, his hand on your chin goes to caress your cheek adoringly. “You don’t even know how stoked I was to know that you were thinking about me like that…”

Art recalls his memory of that day. Truthfully, he could never forget it.

It had started out a pretty normal day. The guys wanted to get in one last hangout before Art and Patrick headed to the US Open to compete in the boys’ Junior division, so Art left the house early. It was supposed to be a simple Super Smash Bros Tournament hangout, but then Daniel started reminiscing about their dumb D&D campaign that they never got to finish, and all of the sudden, everyone wanted to play again before they all headed off to college. So Art went home to find his lucky dice set and the character sheet of his half-elf mage Faister, not knowing what would be in store for him the second he walked into the door.

He had been whistling when he entered the house, he is pretty sure it was to the tune of Honesty by Billy Joel because once again, he had been clueless to what was going to happen next. Then he heard his name being called from upstairs, and he stopped his whistling to answer back a confused, “Yeah? I’m back!”

He waited a moment, waiting for your answer, cause he knew it was you, he would know your voice from anywhere. Then you yelled his name again and that’s when he started to get worried, quickly climbing up the stairs to find you. He was about to call out to you again when he reached the second floor, but as he got closer to where you were, the undeniable sounds of soft moaning became clear to his alert senses.

And maybe he should have just turned around, but when someone’s calling your name, you have to check it out, right? So he crept closer, heartbeat in his throat, and saw the door at the end of the hall wide open. Your bedroom. Where all the glorious sounds of pleasure and his name were emitting from.

When you finally came into his view, Art nearly stopped breathing right then and there. Because the sight of you on your bed with only a t-shirt on, your bare cunt soaking the pillow you were riding as you pressed a vibrator against your clit, eyes squeezed shut and looking like you were in pure ecstasy, was a sight that Art will never, ever forget.

It took him a few seconds after the initial shock to realize you were wearing his shirt, the one he threw in the hamper late last night before he stepped into the shower. It was extremely satisfying to imagine you digging through the dirty laundry just to find his shirt to get yourself off with.

He only watched for a minute before forcing himself to leave and go back to his friends. To go out again and play a very intense session of D&D while forcing himself not to blow a load at all the thoughts of you swimming around his head makes him braver than any US Marine. He honestly doesn’t know how he got by that day and pretended everything was okay. He doesn’t know how he got through any day after that and pretended everything was okay.

Especially in front of Patrick, who you had just broken up with again just a couple weeks prior.

That single minute of seeing you stayed with Art for many, many sleepless nights. And mornings. And afternoons.

You were constantly on his mind from that day on. Too much, some may say, but Art wouldn’t have it any other way.

Back to reality, Art repeats huskily, “You were thinking about me… The same way I was thinking about you.”

He grins when you take your hand away from your face to look at him, still looking shy. “Really?”

“Yeah… And if you must know,” he looks down, “This is my favorite shirt now…”

You let out a giggle, playfully hitting his chest. “Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious!” Art exclaims, his smile wide in the way that you love. He then licks his lips, placing a hand on your thigh and rubs back and forth soothingly - perhaps, more for himself, because he confesses, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I tried, believe me… I tried to fall in love with Tashi, but she could tell I was bullshitting so it never went anywhere. I started going out with Molly and –“ his gaze flicks out the window and notices that the lift was now entering the beginner’s slope station - it keeps moving without slowing down and the door stays shut – then he looks back at you. “It worked at first, for a little while… but then you started creeping back in my head again… At the worst times too… While I was fucking her… All I could think about is you… How much better it would feel if you were the one under me…”

You shiver in delight, grasping his shirt tight with both hands now as you lean closer to him. “Art…”

You don’t know why you find that so hot, that he was thinking of you while he was with someone else. Is it a bit hypocritical of you, since it’s kind of like cheating in a way? Maybe, but at this moment, you can’t find it in you to care.

Your mouth is on him again the exact second the gondola leaves the beginner station, heading to the intermediate station next, your stop.

Maybe it is because of knowing that, and also the throbbing hardness in his pants, that Art breaks away after a short while. As much as he loves kissing you, there are other pressing matters at hand.

“Come on… Let’s take this off,” he says hotly against your lips, pulling urgently at your ski tights. “Can’t wait anymore… Gotta feel you.”

With a nod, you sit up hurriedly, wanting to feel him too, that you forgot that one very thing you shouldn’t have forgotten before you went inside this gondola with Art. It’s only when you pull down your pants along with your underwear that you remember too late to do anything about it, because as soon as you and Art both look down, the remains of your shame from this morning was out there for the both of you to see.

The wetness running out your sopping cunt and smeared down your thighs was definitely not just your arousal. There are way too many globs of it on your underwear to be just yours.

You pale at the sight, not knowing how to explain. Although Art already knows you were with Patrick this morning, you somehow feel the need to explain why you have so much of his cum in you still. Does he find it disgusting? Not everyone is into cum play like you and Patrick are.

Art lets air out of his nose, an unamused laugh of some sorts, as his fingers dig hard into your bare thighs that you wince at the slight pain, his eyes still focused on your underwear. “That’s not… just yours…” he begins, tone displeased, “… or mine from last night… Is it?”

Lip caught between teeth, you shake your head, but obviously with his eyes deadset on staring at the cum, he doesn’t see that.

Art then finally glances up with his brows raised, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and looking ticked off. “Didn’t hear you, ____. Speak up.”

Once again, you shake your head, but this time you choke out timidly, “No… I-it’s… Patrick’s…”

“Huh… Interesting…” Art comments, though he sounds anything but amused. He stares into your eyes for a few seconds longer then goes back to staring at the mess downstairs. As you wait for him to say or do something else, not really sure what to do yourself but just stand there, you feel not only mortified but also anxious. You want to know what’s going on in his head.

If you could read his mind you would know that what Art’s thinking is something he’s never going to say out loud. As angry as he is at the sight of Patrick’s cum on you – and more still slowly trickling out in rivulets that he wonders how much fucking cum that asshole milked into you - it’s also turning him on a lot. He hates to admit it, but it’s true.

Snapping out of his dazed thoughts, Art scoops up a glob of cum on your underwear with two of his fingers. Then he looks up at you, face absolutely straight with no hint of emotion in it at all, as he slowly brings up his fingers near your pussy. You keep his gaze with your breath held and back straight, unable to articulate any thought as he gradually pushes his covered fingers inside you. You whimper, grabbing his shoulders when he is knuckles deep, curling his digits to feel around how much cum is still inside you. He hisses… Fuck… It was a lot.

You try to tighten around his fingers but he pulls out, wiping his fingers up and down your slit as he breaks the silence to say, “That will be the last time his cum goes in you, got it?”

While you nod, still speechless, Art grabs you by the hips. He stands up, towers domineeringly over you.

“After I’m done with you, you won’t ever even think about going back to him ever again,” he murmurs, staring deep into your eyes, sounding so sure of his statement. Then he cups your sex, a firm hold that you let out a breathy moan while he growls raspily, “Because this… This is mine now.”

Before you could even answer back with your eager understanding, Art commands you to turn around and get on your knees on the other bench. He slaps your ass just as your knees land on the hard cushion of the bench, and you brace yourself by resting your arms on the ledge of the window. You keen wantonly, lifting your ass higher as a sign that you want another. With a smirk on his face, he indulges you with another spank across your ass, the satisfying burn triggering more cum to drip out of you. Pleased by the sight, he does it another time, the sound resonating loud in the small space.

It was followed by another chime of your phone, the 9th time in the span of 10 minutes. It had been easy for Art to ignore before, but now it’s getting irritating.

“Who keeps texting you?” Art scowls, glaring at the coat under you. Though he asks, he has a feeling he already knows who it is.

“I-I don’t know…” You reply, and unlike him, you were still not bothered by it. The only thing bothering you is that Art is still not inside you right now. You scoot back a bit to grind yourself against the erection swelling in his pants to entice him to change that. Frustrated, you look at him over your shoulder and beg, “Please Art…”

How could he say no to that?

So Art shoves the annoyance to the back of his mind to hastily push down his pants and boxers, finally freeing his hard cock from its near unbearable confinement.

With one of his hands gripping your waist, he grabs his length with the other, giving it a few solid strokes before shifting closer to your heat. The moment his cock touches you, even if it was just a ghost of a touch, you let out an embarrassingly depraved mewl, so desperate for him that you don’t even care how much you allow him to know it. But Art likes to tease, drags the tip up and down your slit not only once, or twice, but five times, and all you could do is tremble and whimper in anticipation underneath him.

“Please, please, please…” You plead, nearly in tears now that he is nudging around and around your clit, and as good as that feels it’s still not enough. You want him inside you so, so badly that you spread your legs wider and try to push back into him, hoping the slip would make him enter you finally. But Art is still not done with his teasing, pulling himself back when he realizes what you were trying to do. Maybe it’s punishment for going back to Patrick when you could have had him this morning instead, you don’t know, but he is relentless.

“Bad girl…” He tsks, once again dragging himself along you, now agonizingly slow. He crowds closer, chest against your back, his tip now prodding gently at your entrance in a way that has you biting your lip hard. Sardonic yet gleeful, Art murmurs against the shell of your ear, “baby has to be patient if she wants her big brother’s co—“

Outside, a gondola going the opposite direction whooshes by. Only aligned for a couple of seconds but that was enough for the patrons on the other to witness what was happening between you and Art. A group gasp resounds loud enough for the two of you to catch before they are too far to be heard from anymore.

“Oh m—MY GOD!” What started off as a cry of mortification turned to one of pure delight as Art glides into you during the middle of it. He enters you half-way then back until the tip, then half-way again. His pace is slow, yet so good that you are unable to speak after that first initial exclamation, mouth just hanging open in pleasure from his ministration.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Loved that so many people saw you so needy for my cock? Loved how they saw how wide open you are and dripping for me?” Art questions shakily, punctuating every other word with powerful thrusts. You can only nod, cheek pressed against the ledge of the bench, as moans after pitiful moans fall out of your mouth.

He groans, hating how much he loves how slick the slide felt and seeing how much filth is coating his length when he knows exactly why it’s that way.

“O-of course you did – fuck – such a desperate, pretty slut for her stepbrother… So tight and good… God… You’re so tigh—“

Another jingle of your phone cuts him off.

Having had enough, Art plunges deep into you until he is at the hilt, huffing out his frustrations. Then he stills so abruptly that you sob from the sudden lack of stimulation. He ignores you, snarling instead, “Check your phone. Now.”

At his dark and commanding tone, so unlike the Art you are used to, you promptly palm underneath you, trying to find the pocket you had put your phone in earlier. It is really hard to focus at the task at hand when even though Art is not moving an inch, the stretch that his length is providing has you panting for more, losing your mind just at the feeling of him so thick and full inside you.

And it’s not like Art is faring any better. The way you were clenching and unclenching sporadically around him, makes him want to just pound into mercilessly, having you screaming his name until it is the only thing you know.

But he has to know… He has to know if it’s that asshole who is texting you, and if it’s not, good. Either way, at the very least you would be able to put the damn phone on silent.

He smacks your already stinging ass again and you stutter forward with a long, aching gasp. “Hurry up. I won’t ask again.”

You find it a few seconds later, the phone unlocking quickly when you turn it on and you see that you had 9 new messages.

All from the recently unblocked Patrick Zweig.

[10:53 AM] Patrick: is that still you guys in the lift behind us?

[10:57 AM] Patrick: wtf are you doing over there? Cause whatever’s happening in there looks pretty wrong over here

[10:59 AM] Patrick: ____? ???

[11:01 AM] Patrick: dude wtf? Are you okay?

[11:02 AM] Patrick: ____!!

[11:05 AM] Patrick: helloooo

[11:06 AM] Patrick: WTF?!? HELOO?

As you skim through the texts, lowkey freaking out about the potential of your other friends seeing what is going on as well, Art asks who it is. After you’ve come to the conclusion that if the others had seen, they’d be texting you up the storm too (especially Rachel), so with that problem out of the way, you move on to the next one. You look over your shoulder to answer Art cautiously, “Patrick.”

“Of course,” Art comments gruffly. Then he finally moves, rolling his hips in such a way that had your legs shaking, ready to give out. He then holds out his palm out towards you. “Let me answer him… Tell him how busy you are…” He says as he delves deeper and deeper into your pussy. Then in your ears, he adds, “Don’t worry… I’ll be nice.”

You give in, handing him your phone without any questions. At this point, you just didn’t want him to punish you again if you disobeyed. You were so close that you can’t have him stop again.

Art barely slows down his movement even as he reads Patrick’s texts, an amused grin spreading on his face. So Patrick could see what was happening in there? Art looks up from the screen and straight out the window to the gondola a few yards away, tempted to wave to let Patrick know that he knows he is watching. But instead, what he finds is that your friends were having a dance party of some sorts in their own gondola, and he can’t even catch sight of Patrick. After an eyebrow quirks up in both confusion and amusement, he shakes his head, then presses the speech to text dictation on your phone and says into it while still drilling into you, “Sorry, she’s a bit busy right now…”

It only takes a few seconds after the message was sent to receive five replies back within the next 10 seconds:

[11:11 AM] Patrick: wtf? What do you mean she’s busy right now? Wtf is she doing? Art? Is this you?! Why the fuck are you standing like that?

Art’s wicked, breathy chuckles were drowned out by your wanton moans, getting higher in pitch at every snap of his hips.

“Why – hhnng –  do you think?” Art asks mockingly, sending that out as a text, followed by another cheeky one with just a quick press of his thumb on another section of the keypad. It was petty, Art knows this, but he’s just having a bit of fun!

He then carelessly drops the phone on the bench to grasp your hips with both hands so he could start pounding into you harder, knowing you are close. The strenuous pace and the vast amount of pressure you were feeling has you sobbing his name and clawing the seat, fingernails nearly digging holes into the leather.

“I’m gonna – haaa — gonna come… Please let me come…” you choke out, nearly in tears. You had been holding it off, wanting Art to give you the okay to do so.

“Yeah? Come on then,” Art urges, perspiring tremendously and growing exhausted with every swivel of his hip but he keeps at it. Your satisfaction is the only thing he cares about right now. “Come all over your stepbrother’s cock.”

And you do. You feel so wonderful, the pleasurable feeling down below starting to spread throughout your whole body. You don’t even notice when your toes start to curl or the way your eyes roll back as the overwhelming high takes over you. With your mouth still wide open, your drool pools in between your cheek and the ledge it is pressed on.

As you tighten like a vice around him, Art bites down his lips, biting down to stop himself from coming.

That was only your first orgasm, and he promised you more.

Tenderly, his hands rub you down your sides to your sore cheeks, murmuring softly about how good you were for him. You hum in content as he does this, catching your breath while in your post-orgasm bliss.

As Art slides out of you, still hard, his head lolls to the side, noticing the slightly familiar surrounding out the glass windows. At that observation, he extends an arm towards the panel beside the door, fingertips pressing on a button just as you twist around to lean up to crash your lips on his for an appreciative kiss. He smiles against your mouth as he draws you closer with a hand on the nape of your neck and the other returns to rest on the small of your back.

Art needs just a little more time with you.

---

Patrick noticed something strange had been going on in the gondola you and Art were in as soon as it came to his view. He was squished to one corner on the same bench as Paul and Jacob, and on the opposite bench were Rachel and Hannah. While his friends discovered there was a phone dock for the stereo in the gondola, all of them focused on that in amazement, Patrick saw something else that caught his attention from looking out the window, the top of Hannah’s head not obscuring his view at all.

It was you, or someone who he assumed was you seeing as he could only see the back of her. No, it was definitely you. If someone showed him a picture of just your pinky, he would be able to answer that it’s you without any hesitation, because he has spent many nights and days memorizing every little detail of your body. From your lovely eyes to your kissable lips to –  

Whatever, that’s not important right now…

Back to the predicament at hand… What got him to straighten his back to focus at what the fuck was actually happening was the movement of the girl. Up and down, up and down, up and down… Anyone with half a brain would know exactly what those movements insinuated.

So he started texting you. Again and again and again. While his friends got the speaker to work with Rachel’s phone, happily singing loudly and grooving to the songs they all chose together, Patrick shrinks lower and lower where he sits, getting quieter and quieter every minute he doesn’t get a text back.

Finally, after the 10th text, he got one back. He shoots straight up, fumbling with his phone to read it.

[11:10 AM] ____: Sorry she’s a bit busy right now

What the fuck does that mean? He looks out the window again and could see someone standing now but you were nowhere in sight. Is that Art? That has to be right? He was the one who stayed behind with you at the station… But you can’t be… With him? He knows Art had feelings for you before but that’s over now, right? He’s your step brother for crying out loud!

Patrick quickly sends all his burning questions, getting angrier every second.

His mouth drops at the answer he gets back.

[11:12 AM] ____: why hang do you thank? 😏

What… The… FUCK?!? What does that even mean?!? And the fuckass emoji as well?!

Patrick feels like he’s going crazy, so he looks around at the others. They remain clueless, still jamming out. Patrick’s more than okay with that, because that means they are distracted from seeing whatever is going on with you and Art. But he absolutely despises their song choice, Rihanna in Love The Way You Lie seems to be mocking his current situation.

No… Maybe you and Art were just fucking with him, right? Right?!

The two of you can’t possibly be…

He feels sick, not even wanting to look at the other lift anymore in case he does throw up or something. Maybe if he doesn’t look, it would make his brain believe it’s not really happening. Because ignorance is bliss or whatever.

Patrick’s overthinking so much that he doesn’t notice the music turning off, but he snaps out of it when Paul starts shaking him by the shoulder. He looks up at his friend’s concerned face, “Zweig, you okay?”

Patrick forces a grin. “Yeah, man. Just tired.”

“Yeah…” Paul laughs. “Bet you are…”

Patrick pales as Jacob snickers along with Paul.

Right… They’re thinking about this morning… When you… and Him… And then he laid out his feelings for you… And now you’re having sex with his ex-best friend. Your stepbrother.

What the fuck?

Perhaps he has no room to complain or be mad. The two of you aren’t together anymore and he has done way worse when the two of you were together. And yeah, maybe Art did have a crush on you first. But still… What the fuck?

“Here,” Jacob says as he hands Patrick his snowboard. “Door’s gonna open soon.”

Patrick hadn’t even noticed but they’re already at the intermediate slope station. He could already see the others in the waiting area, some already had their equipment on.

The doors open and they get off to join the others.

Patrick can’t seem to get himself into his usual playful mood, to joke around with his friends when he’s feeling so shit at the moment. So as they chat and laugh around him, everyone waiting for the last two to arrive, Patrick keeps his eyes open for the next lift to come, a scowl disturbing his face.

It’s a joke, Patrick tells himself, it has to be.

But as the gondola enters the station, the door stays closed, meaning it won’t be stopping there.

“Huh? Are they going to the advanced slope?” Daniel asks out loud, and everyone turns to where he is looking.

As the gondola passes by, all they can see is Art in the end process of sitting down on the bench opposite of you, both of you staring at each other with heaving chests and grins on your faces. Nothing scandalous or suspicious, at least not to the others.

But Patrick knows better, and so his stomach drops.

He feels like he has lost you forever. For real this time.

—--

But Patrick refuses to give you up. Not like this.

As the others discuss if they were going to follow you and Art to the intermediate slopes or stay where they are at, he pushes past Manny and Ewan to head to the washroom nearby.

It is one of those single bathrooms, which is good because Patrick’s a pacer when he’s mad. So he locks the door at the same time he gets his phone out of his coat pocket, hitting call on your number and starts to walk around the tiny bathroom.

He doesn’t know what’s compelling him to do this.

Maybe he just wants to hear your voice reassure him that you are still thinking about what he said to you this morning and that you are not fucking your stepbrother in a fucking moving gondola ski lift for everyone to see. Hearing either one of those would be good enough for him, he’s not greedy.

The phone rings four times and then abruptly goes to the answering machine in the middle of the fifth. Meaning you or Art must have hit ignore.

Patrick growls lowly, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he tries again. He’s going to call a million times if he has to.

Again, it goes to the answering machine, but this time after the 1st ring.

“That motherfucker,” he mutters under his breath. Or more appropriately, maybe he should have said stepsisterfucker. God, Art has some fucking nerv-

His inner ranting gets stopped short when his phone starts to ring. His heart beating rapidly when he reads the notification on his screen.

Incoming Video Call… Y/N Decline             Accept

Patrick nearly chokes on his own spit. A fucking video call?!

He begins to sweat profusely when his thumb hovers over the Accept button, all the voices in his head screaming:  HOE, DON’T DO IT!!

So he tries to justify it. The last time he saw the two of you, you were sitting opposite of each other, far apart – or as far apart two can be in that tiny gondola. So maybe when he answers, it will just be you laughing at him, pointing towards the camera like “HA, ASSHOLE! YOU GOT PUNKED!”

And then Patrick will laugh back like, “Oh, you! You sure got me! HAHAHAAAAA!”

Then you’ll show Art and he’ll be all like, “Wow, I can’t believe you thought we would do that, buddy! HAHAHA!”

Then Patrick will reply, “Aww shucks. I’m such a fool! I always knew we’d be friends again, bro! Don’t ever change, hahaha!”

Yeah… Yeah! It will definitely go exactly like that! What is he worrying about?

With that, he hits Accept.

Aaaand… He is right! He is such a fool! A whole fucking dumbass!

Because the first thing he sees when the call connects is you. Oh, beautiful you. The you that Patrick will probably always love. Even if you are bouncing on a cock that wasn’t his.

Yup, that’s what he saw. You, in the position that is Patrick’s favorite to put you in – him sitting comfortably, you on his lap, your back against his chest, you riding him so skilfully – but the problem is that right now, Patrick’s not the one under you. It’s fucking Art… Your stepbrother for crying out loud! How many times does he have to scream that out (in his head) for people (you and Art) to realize how fucked up that is!?

It feels like someone had punched him in the gut, all the air whooshing out of his lungs. It gets even more horrible when the speaker on his phone starts blaring out the sweet moans you were making. It’s safe to say that hearing you call out a name that wasn’t his is probably one of the worst things he has ever endured in his life.

As Patrick keeps watching the way you bounce on Art’s lap – doing it in the way that Patrick had taught how you to do it, the way that feels the best to him - Patrick thinks that this might even be at the top of the worst things list, at #1.

Art seems to be appreciating Patrick’s lessons to you though, letting his pleasure be known with plenty of pleased grunts and how he murmurs closely to your ear, “You’re so good at this, baby… So fucking good…”

Baby?! Really?! Hearing someone else call you that – as basic and unoriginal as that petname is – really grates Patrick’s nerve. Only he can call you that.

Through gritted teeth, Patrick finally speaks out, “What—What the fuck?!”

At the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s voice, you gasp softly, slowing down your movement to look down at the phone recording you. You knew it was on, Art had asked you first before he made the call. In all honesty, you don’t know why you had said yes. Is it to get back at Patrick for all the things he has done in the past or are you just truly so fucked out at the moment that all rationality has flown out the window?

You suppose it was a bit of both reasons, but now as you see Patrick’s completely distraught and vexed reaction on the screen - brows furrowed, nose flared and breathing heavily, and his mouth open in shock - you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad.

“I-I’m suh-sorry Pat…” You apologize as you pant. “I’m so—” Before you could apologize again, with his hand on your hip, Art pushes you down deeper on his cock, and all you could do was bite your bottom lip as you struggle not to make a pleasured sound. But it was hard, and ultimately you fail, whining loudly as you arch your back and throw your head back, giving Patrick an eyeful of the sight that he unfortunately loves.

The image shoots arousal straight to Patrick’s cock, causing it to harden up despite his effort to curse down at it to NOT DO THAT.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” Art murmurs against the side of your throat with a cheshire smile. Eyes straight at the phone, he points out as he continues to guide you up and down,  “He wanted to see this… That’s why he was bothering us so much…”

Patrick takes a hard swallow at the accusation, then spits out harshly, “Shut… Shut the fuck up… That’s not why I—”

“Fuck, baby, keep moving like that…” Art rasps then lightly bites your shoulder, talking over Patrick without a care, because frankly, the videocall wasn’t meant for Patrick to explain himself. It was meant for Patrick to see how well you are taking Art’s cock, how every inch of Art was making you forget all about him. And also, most importantly, Art thinks, so Patrick would leave the two of you the fuck alone.

“You’re taking me so well, little girl…” Before Patrick can call out Art’s use of that term in mild (and feign) disgust (because he, himself, had called girls that), the latter peers down to where the two of you are connected, groaning. “Look at that… Looks like we’ve fucked all his cum out of you…” In awe, his hand leaves your hip to reach down and gather the globs of slick being pushed out of you and onto his length and pretty much everywhere underneath the two of you.

Wait… Holy fuck, that’s my cum from this morning?! And he knows that’s my cum?! Patrick is in shock. More shock than before. He won’t admit it out loud but… Fuck… Fuck!

Gripping onto the edge of the sink until his knuckles are pale, Patrick’s gaze follows the way Art’s fingers slides up to coat your clit with cum, some of it mostly like his cum and Patrick can’t help but press his erection against the porcelain sink, rutting slowly because of everything he is witnessing.

Art chuckles when he notices how quiet Patrick got, save for the low panting and oddly shaky camerawork on his part of the videocall. So to put on more of a show, Art presses against your sensitive nub, your sweet whimpers fill his and Patrick’s ears as your body jerks with every circular motion he made.

“Such a messy cunt…” Art says in lieu of a praise. He smirks when he hears Patrick groan in agreement. Though a moment later, Art groans himself, feeling you tighten around him as you hide your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“Art… fuck— you make feel so good…” You mewl in between messily and wetly biting and sucking a deep bruise on his neck. Art is so deep inside you, that though your movements along his length are slow and steady, the head of his cock still nudges that spot inside you that has you spiraling closer and closer to another high. Digging your nails into the wrist that was still flicking to rub fingers against your clit, you whine more shrilly, “Art!”

At that, Patrick begins to grind against the sink harder and faster, knowing the tell-tale signs that you are close. It’s by the way your stomach clenches, how your thighs start to shake, and how undeniably needy you become, murmuring sweet nothings that always causes Patrick to go into a frenzy.

If he was the one under you right now, Patrick would be pounding roughly into you until you are screaming nothing but daddy and his name… But he’s not the one under you, he curses under his breath, and so all he could do is basically dryly fuck an inanimate object despite hating himself for doing it and being so turned on by seeing another dick in you.

“Fuck, you’re getting so fucking tight…” Art gasps, struggling to keep the phone he is holding in front of you steady with every tight flutter of your velvet walls around him. He wants to just hang up and start fucking you right - how he really wants to, how you need him to - but he needed Patrick to hear something from you first. “You’re gonna cum aren’t you? Gonna cum on my cock, baby?”

With a frown, you nod, feeling the tightly wounded band threatening to snap at any second. But you won’t let it, not without Art specifically allowing you to with his command. You’re his good girl like that.

“Then tell him,” Art growls into your ear as he bites the lobe. His fingers on your clit stills and you sob from the sudden lack of movement. “Tell him who you are going to cum for.”

You glance down to see Patrick’s face, pale and in shock. You tear your eyes away from him and onto Art. With a hard swallow, you whimper, “For y-you, Art… I’m cumming for you.”

“Yeah?” He snaps his hips twice, thrusting so hard that a high whine tears from your throat. Then so suddenly, he stills his movement, and you nearly begin to cry from his teasing. “And only me?”

“Yes, yes yes, only you,” you’re crying louder now, just desperately wanting release. “Please, Art, please let me, I’m… I only want to cum for you. Please let me---!”

It’s okay, baby, just come, Patrick thinks as he watches the way you squeeze your eyes shut. And at that, he groans, pressing his cock tighter against the sink, about to reach his high alongside you - but that is when the screen of his phone turns pitch black all of the sudden.

Patrick straightens up, alarmed.

“What— What the fuck?!” Patrick snaps in rage, pressing onto the home button multiple times but the iPhone will not turn on - even though it was more than half the battery life left just a minute ago. It seems that the battery has drained and shut down because of the freezing temperature.

With his cold and blue balls left hanging, Patrick glances up to ceiling and yells out in frustration, “Fuck you, Steve Jobs!”

----

Back in the lift, Art drops the phone once the call disconnects, not really caring about the reason for Patrick hanging up. The fun and games are over, he just wants to bring you to another orgasm.    

Grabbing your hips, he forces you down on his cock as he snaps up. You let out a wail as his moves turn sharp and sloppy, the wet and filthy sound so loud and echoing in the small space. Art loves it though. But he loves the sound of you begging to come even more.

“Yes, yes, yes, Art, I’m gonna cum, please I need it, please let me cum, your cock feels too good— fuck, please—”

With a grin, he slaps you across the chest before groping it hard as he growls into your ear, “That’s a good little slut, take my cock so well, come for me…”

And that was all you needed to do exactly as he said.

As your eyes roll back and you see stars, Art’s name tears from your throat a dozen times like a prayer. The way he continues to fuck you through it brought even more pleasure. It causes you to tighten and spasm around him uncontrollably, which makes Art curse under his breath, knowing he is reaching his end soon as well.

While still in the midst of your mind-blowing orgasm - quivering against Art as your essence leaks down his length -  you manage to mumble out loud another desire of yours, “Art, inside me… Please cum inside me… Want it…”

“Fuck,” he groans, biting the juncture of neck - so incredibly in awe at how hot you sounded, how perfect you are - before he pants out, “Yes, fuck, okay — turn around, wanna see your face when I fill you up.”

Nodding, you shakily turn around to face Art with his help, whining slightly when he slips out of you. With your legs resting on either side of him, you bottom out on his hard cock again with a contented sigh. He fits you so well, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you so perfectly that you didn’t mind the overstimulation. In fact, you craved it.

Wrapping your arms around his neck , you begin to slowly ride his length while you nuzzle your face nose against his, and he murmurs lowly in between soft kisses against yours lips, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Then you feel him come deep inside you with a guttural groan - his hands grabbing onto your waist and pushing you down to ensure you don’t lift yourself up, to make sure you take every drop of his cum. But you wouldn’t have moved, you loved it so much. The way he was filling you to the brim, it felt so fucking good that you find yourself coming again.

Through your third orgasm, you start murmuring depraved nonsense that has Art steadily thrusting up into you just to hear more. He turns it into a fourth by pressing his fingers against your overstimulated clit to draw figure-8s.

“Holy fuck,” Art watches your face with his mouth gaped open slightly, he couldn’t believe how lucky he is to see you like this.

So breathtakingly beautiful… He thinks as presses his mouth against yours for a passionate and bruising kiss.

You smile into the kiss and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”

Hearing that totally made him hard again.

Fuck, he might really love you.

----

author's note: let me know how you are enjoying it so far! comments keep me inspired to write more for this fandom! i have a few more ideas for the challengers' trio so it would be nice to know if people are actually enjoying my fics for them lol! reblogs are much appreciated as well!

[imasl0tforchallengers]

thank you to my amazing babe @rafesthroatbaby for this idea! had to bring it to life for you gorgeous loves 🤭💦 wrote this one real quick 😅

“Can’t wait until tonight baby?” Drew asked, amused tone as he watched your hand push up the striped sweater he had on, along with the crisp white tee underneath. His toned stomach came into view, giving you easier access for you to pop open the button of his jeans, manicured fingers pulling down the zipper in one quick go.

Maybe it was a little desperate, and not the best time considering you two were in the private car headed to the fashion show. You just couldn’t help yourself though, as he looked so fucking good. You had to have him now, and had little time to get what you wanted. You just had to say you were thankful for the privacy divider that kept the backseat and the front seat separate. Because it wasn’t very long after you got Drew’s jeans down a little, that you were straddling his lap to sink down onto his thick length.

“N-no… you look too fucking good daddy.” You shuddered, pussy slick as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

His large hands found your waist, letting out a small groan as his hooded blue eyes watched your pretty self at the way he stretched your hole out in the backseat of a car traveling through the streets of Paris. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time before you two arrived, and he certainly wasn’t gonna have you feeling deprived at the busy day that was about to be ahead. That just meant he was gonna have to take your soul real quick, and that’s exactly what he did as he began thrusting up inside you at a brutal pace.

“D-Drew!” You squeaked, nails traveling up dig into his buzzcut as his face buried itself in your tits that were nearly spilling out from your dress. The way he could so easily move his hips up to pound you in the backseat of this small car, especially at his height, amazed you. Embarrassingly enough you knew you weren’t going to last long either at the way his dick was filling you to the brim, making sure to hit that sweet spot.

“Be daddy’s good girl, and fucking take that dick..” He would tell you, icy blue irises glancing up at you as he watched your face fall in pleasure. “You better not make a big mess either, knowing I gotta keep these clothes nice.” He grunted, feeling your cunt already start to tighten around him.

Your mouth fell open in a loud whine, one of his hand removing itself from your hip to gently wrap around your throat to make you look at him all while you took the most amazing dick to ever exist. He was quite literally leaving you gasping, and you prayed that your makeup wasn’t going to be ruined as the tears started to prick the corner of your eyes. This man didn’t let up, knowing he could make you cum in a matter of seconds just by thrusting up into you at an ungodly pace.

“Gonna… gonna.. cum daddy…” You mumbled, his grip on your neck only tightening as your lower tummy fluttered and an orgasmic smile spread across your face as you came all over his cock.

“Don’t fucking think for a second, that you aren’t gonna get absolutely railed tonight. This wasn’t shit, sweet girl.” He said with a grin, pulling you in for a searing kiss as he helped you ride out your high.

In the next five minutes, Drew was stepping out of that same car, smirk on his face as he waved to the crowd, knowing he just demolished your hole in that backseat.

[imasl0tforchallengers]

Thinking about an younger reader calling Dark!Dilf Rafe old and that’s he needs some viagra 😭LOL

Imagining his reaction 🤬

Softcore

Dark!Dad’sBestFriend/DILF!Rafe x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), ignoring safe words, smut, large age gap (20-30 years), spanking, choking, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, breeding kink, degradation, secret relationship, manipulation, daddy kink, Rafe uses ‘kid’ to refer to reader a couple times, Rafe wants to get reader pregnant against her will

A/N: In my mind Rafe is in his late 40s/early 50s in this and Reader is 19/early-mid 20s

⚠️CHECK ALL CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE READING‼️⚠️

“Y’know, maybe I didn’t hear you correctly kid, would you mind repeating yourself?”

You could tell by the edge in his voice that you had succeeded in getting a reaction out of him, but the way his blue eyes darkened as he glared at you led you to swallow down your cockiness.

Your boyfriend’s tall frame crowded your vision as he approached the bed you were lounging on as he removed his boxers.

Glancing away didn’t help, as the older man’s large hand came to your chin, redirecting your attention back up to him as he towered above you. Still you found your eyes fixed on the spots where his dark blond hair had begun turning silver.

“What did you just say to me, Y/N?” He spoke slowly, as if you were child who was acting up.

Despite knowing that this was his way of giving you a chance to retract what you had just said, you huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes at the man who was older than your own father, before repeating yourself with a small laugh, “I said, I’m getting you viagra for your birthday since you’re getting so old.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened in frustration, eyebrows furrowing together before suddenly moving the hand on your cheek to your throat, applying a light pressure that had your eyes widening in surprise.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Rafe growled before pinning you to the bed you were sitting on by your throat.

The back of your head hit the soft mattress, the force at which Rafe had grabbed you made your pink lingerie slip ride up, exposing your matching panties underneath and some of the soft skin of your tummy. He licked his lips as he watched as your nipples harden beneath the thin material.

“Rafe-” you eeked in surprise, your hand reaching up to grab the one at your throat.

“Still think this is a joke?”

It took almost no effort for him to grab you again, climbing onto the bed as he manhandled you into laying across his lap face down.

“Rafe! Stop it! I’m sorry, okay?!” Your desperate pleas for him to release you went unfulfilled, and as you thrashed on his lap, trying to break free, you already knew what was coming next in return for your careless joke, and you couldn’t tell if the pit in your stomach came from excitement or fear.

“Nah, I don’t think I am gonna stop,” goosebumps erupted across your skin when you felt him pull the material of your slip up your back, exposing your round ass to him.

You shivered when he placed his hand flat on your ass, rubbing your skin and lightly groping the fat of your butt.

The blond drew his hand back and your tensed in anticipation before he spanked you hard. The extra sting from his rings made you whine and you bit your lip to keep from crying out.

“What do you say?” His expectant voice reminded you of your rules.

“… thank you, daddy,” you reluctantly forced through gritted teeth.

This second strike was harder this time, on the same place he had hit you last and you cried out louder this time.

“Mm- thank you, daddy. I’m sorry,” you added at the end, stupidly hoping that niceties could get your through this punishment faster.

He spanked you again, this time smacking the untouched cheek, and you moaned at the sharp pain.

“Y’really think sucking up to me now is gonna help you out, sweetheart?” He said mockingly, as if he was reading your mind.

You were slower to answer him, his words taking longer to register as your body tried to numb the pain.

“N-no. And thank you, daddy.” You didn’t want to forget to thank him again, he only ever gave you one warning.

Rafe was clearly enjoying toying with you, you could feel his stiff cock poking against your thigh, further proof no viagra was needed.

After 4 more spanks, your eyes were leaking tears, lip wobbling as you mumbled out appreciations each time he struck your now bright red ass.

“Rafe! Please, I said I’m sorry, okay?! It was-” you hiccuped through tears, “it was just a stupid joke.”

You swore you felt his dick throb against you at the sound of your pleading voice.

He ignored you, however, instead striking your ass three times quickly and rough enough that you almost screamed from the pain and shock.

“Red light! Rafe please,” you sobbed out the safe word that you and Rafe always used, but the sound of him chuckling darkly in response made your blood run cold.

Pain bloomed across your already sore ass again and you whimpered. You were crying heavily now, and you brought your own hand to your mouth to muffle your weeping when he spanked you again.

“Have you learned your fucking lesson?” His stern voice came from above and you nodded immediately.

“Yes daddy, please! I’m so sorry.” You cried desperately.

You winced when you sensed his hand nearing you again, but this time, his thumb slipped between your legs and traced over your barely clothed slit.

You squirmed in his lap as his lazily thumbed your clit over your panties, whining when he applied pressure.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that, kid? Pretty sick of you to be so goddamn drenched for an ‘old man’ like me.” Rafe mocked you, and to your embarrassment, you could feel yourself growing wetter when he slid your panties to the side and slowly pushed his thick middle finger into your slick cunt.

A whimper escaped your lips when he curled his finger inside you, and your hips twitched as you tried to make more friction between the two of you.

“Shut up,” you moaned before he finally started thrusting the digit into you.

“Please, we both know you get off on the fact that your father has no clue his little princess is sleeping with his best friend.” You didn’t have to see him to know the triumphant, jeering smirk he had playing across his lips.

You also didn’t deny what he said, because you couldn’t. No matter how completely fucked up it was, you did find sneaking behind your parents’ back to see an older man to be thrilling in the sickest way possible.

Not to mention how hard you had came on the several occasions the two of you had gotten close to being discovered (every time, his hand had slapped over your mouth to stifle your moans, but he didn’t stop fucking you until he emptied himself into the condom, no matter how high the risk of being caught).

Part of you suspected he was so careless at times because he wanted the two of you to get caught, a thought that was so unbelievable at first that you completely dismissed it, but when two times became three, and then three times became an almost weekly occurrence, you found it hard to deny that he seemed to enjoy putting you in situations where you could be discovered.

You felt him pull his finger out of you before grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back onto the bed, and you protested as he climbed over you, caging you beneath him with his big, veiny arms.

“How mad do ya think he’d be if I put a baby in you, huh, Y/N?” Your eyes widened as he looked down at you hungrily.

“Rafe-” you said warily, trying to sit up and get out from under him, but the older man easily grabbed your shoulder and pushed you back on the bed.

“I bet he’d kick you out of the house if you got knocked up.” Despite your kicking, his strong hands grabbed the straps of your panties, ripping them past your legs and tossing them behind him.

“But imagine how disappointed with you he’d be if he knew you let me do it,” Rafe chuckled, and more tears formed at your waterline as his words sunk in.

“Stop it, Rafe. I’m serious, this isn’t funny, it’s sick,” you couldn’t stop your voice from wavering as you looked up at him.

When one of his hands locked tight around your wrist, you whimpered, struggling against him to free yourself.

You froze when you felt the head of his thick cock rubbing against your slit, and Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened as he started to push his tip inside of you.

“Stop fucking moving around, Y/N,” his gruff voice commanded.

Resisting did nothing to help you, and you were almost disgusted by how wet you felt as he forced himself deeper.

Taking all of Rafe’s cock was never a painless process for you, he was so thick it always felt like he was splitting you in half, even more-so now.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he stretched you out slowly. Rafe groaned when his dick nudged your cervix, dropping his head to your neck and trailing sloppy kisses along the tender skin.

You moaned loudly, tensing at first when his lips found your throat, making the older man curse under his breath when you tightened around him.

“Shit, kid. You feel fucking amazing.” His breath tickled at your neck and you squirmed beneath him as you tried to adjust to the pressure between your legs.

Rafe’s free hand came to your throat, squeezing tight as he tilted his hips back and then slammed into you.

You whined, closing your eyes in surprise, pain outweighing the pleasure at first. His fingers twitched around your throat as he felt your walls grow slicker and he was able to fuck you faster.

Delirious waves of ecstasy clouded your mind, his thick cock stretched you out in a way that made your head spin.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightened and you reached for his wrist, hoping that his hold on you would relent, but the older man just took it as a sign to rut into you harder.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, losing yourself in the rhythm of his pace, greedily grinding your hips to bring yourself closer to the edge.

When his free hand crept between your legs and his thumb began rubbing circles over your clit, you whined, opening your legs for him more so he could fuck you deeper and massage your clit easier.

“Daddy- I’m- fuck-” you mindlessly babbled between moans, already feeling your mind go blank with each snap of his hips.

“Yeah?” He groaned when he felt you pulse around him. “Gonna cum on this dick like daddy’s good girl?”

Alarm bells should have been sounding in your head, but in the moment, you cared too much about chasing pleasure rather than facing consequences to resist.

So you obeyed him.

You whimpered as you came undone, the wave of pleasure washing over you again and again as the blond pushed his cock into you relentlessly. Your body sagged against the bed, head lolling back as you rode out your orgasm.

Rafe could feel your walls pulsing and constricting around him, squeezing his cock so tight it almost hurt him.

He bit back a curse before reaching one of his strong arms behind your back, staying inside you the entire time as he pulled you up off the bed and onto his lap. Your legs fell to the side of his as he rutted into you from below.

The new position had your quaking thighs squeezing against him, and you wrapped an arm over his shoulder and around his back in an attempt to steady yourself. The change of angle made your head spin and you whimpered in pain as he split you open with his dick.

Rafe’s lips hungrily captured yours and your stomach flipped when he forced his tongue into your mouth, holding your head in place to kiss you deeper as he fucked you up and down on his cock.

When he broke the kiss, you both gasped for air, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten, “Fuck, kid. How’d I get so lucky?”

You couldn’t answer him, so lost in matching the movement of his hips that you couldn’t think about anything else.

His lips found your neck, nipping and kissing the tender skin to pull more moans from you.

“So perfect, sweetheart. M’ gonna fill you up,” he whispered into your throat between kisses.

At his words, you remembered why you had resisted in the first place, eyes widening as you squirmed in his lap. Rafe’s pace only increased as he locked his arm around your waist, pressing you against his bare chest and stopping you from pulling away as he pounded into you.

“Rafe- red light-!” you were cut off when his big hand covered your mouth, and you helplessly squealed against him.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, kid,” he snapped and you felt yourself unconsciously clench around him.

The older man drilled into you, stretching you out with each punishing thrust.

“Fuck- fuck!” He groaned, squeezing you against his chest as his hips stuttered and he came undone inside you.

You whined as you felt his hot seed flood your walls. Trying to get off of him proved fruitless when he held you in place and forced you to milk his cock of every drop.

The sticky feeling of his cum dripping down his cock deep inside of you was inescapable and you shuddered when he lightly bucked his hips to thrust himself up inside you again.

“Still think I need viagra, you fucking brat?”

[imasl0tforchallengers]

Please, Please, Please (Rafe's Edition)

Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Being with Rafe, a notorious hotheaded drug dealer, you knew others would question your relationship— especially your parents, who had never been fond of him. But when his habits had been too much to handle, you knew that you would prefer heartbreak to a broken ego. 

Warnings: ¿Slight Angst?,Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,480

You took a risk—a big one at that. Rafe had always been a boy your parents, friends, and almost everyone warned you about, but you ignored their qualms, for there was this persistent pull to him that you could not deny. 

Growing up, it was plain that he was a bully. He was always one to torment other children in the playground or at school, but you were saved from his hostility, him only as going as far as teasing you because you were easily baited. Later, he did admit that it was his only way to gain your attention. You had hoped he would grow out of his tormenting ways when the two of you reached maturity, but it only severed. He always got into pointless and petty fights and was scolded by his teachers and father as he was often suspended from school, but their warnings did nothing to deter him. When you reached high school, you once again hoped he would clean up his act, wanting to fall fully for him, but his rash decision, raging temper, and ill vices had only multiplied— hindering you from admitting the attraction you had to him since childhood. 

It was plain that any pull you had towards him should be ignored and buried deep inside, for he only came with trouble. It also did not help that he had doubled his efforts to show his interest in you. Giving you little gifts and trinkets he knew you were entirely fond of. Scaring away any romantic prospects, labeling you as ‘his’ though nothing between you two was truly set in stone. So, you could not help yourself to succumb to him— to finally be his, just like your heart in childhood longed for. As years passed, you would silently beg him not to prove you right— that he could overcome the judgments passed on him, but your pleas were moot, for Rafe could never fully shed the true yet cruel perceptions of him. 

You tried to keep him at arm’s length for as long as you could, but even the mightiest and most stubborn of soldiers falter and lose their sensibilities. The two of you started with hookups, not entirely romantic, yes, but it was enough for you to fall further for him. You would often sneak around at parties, making out in the bathroom or an empty closet or even a dark corner somewhere. You thought the both of you could live happily even though no one knew you were with him, so no one could pass their judgments. Things were quick to escalate with you giving him your first kiss to him taking your first time. 

“Rafe,” You cried out in pain, him drawing circles upon your sensitive bud as his well-endowed length pushed its way in you,  him hushing and kissing your tears away as he fully sheathed himself in your cunt— finally taking all of you after years of patience and restraint. “Just a little more, pretty girl… you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” He hissed as he felt you clench around him, your cunt tighter than he had hoped, and Rafe felt lightheaded.  You nodded weakly and looked at him through teared-filled eyes. “Fucking hell, baby… you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned as he cautiously thrust into you, waiting for your pained expression to turn to pleasure. 

“Rafe… oh god, I— just like that,” you said, almost incoherently. “Such a good girl taking all of my cock… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this… how long I’ve wanted you.” Rafe gritted through pleasure. That night, you knew there was no turning back; every part of you was Rafe’s that even your mind could not even find caution. 

However, just like in any other relationship, there were trials. Your trial was to keep Rafe at bay, not to let him sink into his addiction and violence. Your earnest effort was poured into his rehabilitation and to calm his forever violent being. Rafe’s trial was you keeping your relationship a secret. He wanted to shout it and make it known throughout the Outer Banks that you were his. That the only girl he had ever wanted— loved was finally his, but you were persistent in keeping the both of you a secret, having to sneak around. The touches, longing, pleasure, and love need to be hidden in the dark. Sometimes, he wondered if you were ashamed of him, but he did not like dwelling on the thought, for it only brought devastation in him. There was a painful throb in his chest and a pit in his stomach when he would think of the matter. 

“Rafe, do you really have to… do this?” You asked as your eyes flew towards the packet of white substance he was planning to sell at a party you two would attend later that day. “You know I have to, baby… it’ll be quick, I swear. Those kids always sell out my stock,” He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You licked your lips and stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe had stopped using the moment the two of you went official, but no matter what half-hearted ultimatum you threw at him, you could not hinder him from engaging in illegal dealings. 

“But what if you get caught… your father h—“ Rafe sighed and kissed your lips shut. He appreciated your concern greatly; you were the only one who genuinely cared and loved him, but he could not listen to your concern, for he had no actual choice but to sell. He had great financial needs, especially because you were with him; he needed to support both of you. To show you that he can provide you with the well-off life you already lived. Yes, his family did have money, a great deal of it, but he didn’t have the want to be indebted and be under his father’s thumb. 

“I won’t. Stop worrying, baby; you know it makes your stomach upset,” It was half concern and half tease; you could only roll your eyes at his words. “Just… just be safe— be cautious and—“ Rafe kissed your lips shut once more, smirking against your lips as he could not help but be flattered by your concern. “I know what I’m doing.” He said confidently. You were unconvinced but still gave a nod, not wanting to push and anger him. 

True enough to his word, nothing of note happened at the party, much to your relief. The following day, you did not expect to see Rafe, for you had told him you were busy with engagements with your parents. “What are you doing here?” You asked with a frantic smile as you felt arms wrap around you. You were in the country club’s restaurant waiting for your parents to arrive. 

Rafe did not answer your question; he simply just connected your lips, and your eyes grew wide. From where you sat, you gently pushed him away, and you felt guilt course your system as you saw hurt in his ocean eyes. “My parents are here,” You say warily, further putting distance between you. Rafe stood straight and frowned, “So?” He asked, and you smoothened the fabric of your dress in nervousness. “You know why,” You say softly, and you hear him scoff and shake his head. “Baby, it’s been two years… how long are you gonna hide us?” He asked, and you felt further guilt take over you. You parted your lips to speak but you hear your parents call for your name, making you stand in surprise and hesitantly greet them. 

“So sorry we’re late, darling; your father and I could not escape our meeting!” Your mother sighed and patted your cheek affectionately. “Oh, you have company,” Your mother said in surprise as she noticed Rafe standing behind you. You feel your stomach drop as your father’s eyes fly to Rafe. “You’re Ward’s son, aren’t you?” He asked, uncertain as he and your mother only spent scarce time on the island. “Rafael, was it?” Your father asked, and you chewed on your cheek as you watched their interaction. “Rafe,” he gritted, and you gave him a look, “… sir. It’s Rafe,” He corrected, and your father nodded in acknowledgment. 

You took in a deep breath as your father assisted your mother to sit and motioned for you to do the same, but you were hesitant as Rafe still stood by the side of your table. You look to your mother, and she purses her lips, “Bye, Rafe, tell Sarah I’ll see her later,” You suddenly say as his cue to leave; you clench your hands around the fabric of your dress as you see anger and hurt in his eyes as the words left your lips, expecting you to invite him to your family’s meal and hopefully reveal your relationship to your parents. “Yeah, see you around,” He gritted out and stomped out of the restaurant, anger exuding from him. 

You took a menu into your hands and finally let out a breath of relief. “I don’t want you to associate yourself with that type of company,” Your father suddenly said. You lowered the menu in your hands, “What?” You asked quietly. “I do not want you to associate yourself with that boy,” You blinked at your father’s words. “He’s Sarah’s brother,” You say meekly. “Even so. He only comes with trouble, darling. We are here only a handful of months every year, but the rumors and talk about him and his… habits are deafening,” Your mother chimed in, and you lowered your gaze. “We are not hindering you from being friends with Sarah, but it would be best if you keep your distance from her brother— we don’t need you being influenced by that, Rafe,” You bit your lip as you slowly nodded, your parents expecting a response of agreement from you. 

After the day spent with your parents, you rushed towards Tannyhill as you feel Rafe was not too happy with you. He would usually message and call you throughout the day to see how you were, but not even one notification came from him, rendering you further in guilt. “I’m so sorry,” You say in a plea as you knelt on Rafe’s bed, him sitting idly by the headboard, avoiding your gaze, a prominent furrow in his brows. You placed your hand on his leg, and you sighed as he moved his limb away from your touch. You watched as he crossed his arms across his chest and turned further away from you. It shouldn’t amuse you, but he looked like a little kid who was on the verge of a tantrum. 

“I really am sorry. I just wasn’t ready to tell them yet,” You say and move closer to Rafe, taking hold of his hand. “It’s been two years. If you still aren’t ready now, when will you be?” He grumbled, and you bit your lip. 

“Rafe, you know it’s complicated, my parents are…” You trailed, unable to find the word. “Just fucking say you’re ashamed of me!” Rafe seethed and stood from his bed. Your lips parted in shock at his words, “That’s not true! I love you; I will never be ashamed of you!” You defended and stood as well, following close to him. “Yeah? Then why the fuck are we a secret?” You lowered your gaze in shame as he screamed at you. “Because my parents won’t approve,” You said truthfully. “Rafe, they still see you as a hothead junkie… and I know you’ve changed— I’ve seen you change, but they haven’t. And they're just… they don’t want me near you,” You said, and Rafe shook his head, a gnawing feeling in his gut. He didn’t care for the other’s opinion of him, but now he could not help but too because your parent’s opinion of him was what was hindering you from being fully his. 

“I just fear that if we tell them now, they’ll take drastic measures to— to separate us,” You say in fear. “What?” He asked and made you lift your gaze and look at him. “They’ve been wanting to move to New York for a while now— for the business, but I keep insisting on staying here,” You admitted, having hidden that information from Rafe for a year because you didn’t want it to go in between your relationship. You hear Rafe’s ragged breathing, “How much longer?” He asked in aggravation. “I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “That’s not a fucking answer,” You hear how hard he tried hard to control his rage, to not point his anger at you. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “I know how you’ve changed— I’ve watched you change, and I am so proud of you… but,” You bit your lip as you tried to decide if you should continue speaking. “But what?” He seethed. “You still deal drugs… you haven’t cut the final tie to that life,” You say lowly. “Baby, you know why I do it,” You furrowed your brow; do you truly know why? You began to wonder. Rafe saw your confusion and spoke once more. 

“I’m doing it for us— for you, so I can support you. So we can be free in the future. Just you and me.” He said and cupped your cheeks, but his explanation did not aid your bewilderment. “Rafe, you know I am not with you for money… I don’t need you to provide for me, and I most certainly don’t need tainted currency.” 

“I know you don’t need me to provide for you— I want to provide for you,” You sighed as your heart doubled at his words. “I appreciate that… but, my love, there are other ways… when we build our life together, we don’t need this type of money. We could find jobs in the meantime, and in a few years, I’ll have hold of my trust fund; we could use that to build the life we want.” Rafe shook his head at the solution you presented, it was simply not good enough for him. He would not subject you to finding a job and dipping into your trust fund just because he could not provide for you properly. 

“Don’t be stubborn,” you sighed, “Rafe… I— This can’t go on, ‘cause—“ you quickly halted your words before you uttered something you might regret. “Cause what?” Rafe questioned, and his frown deepened as you took off his hold on your face. “Rafe, I love you.. but I can’t be with you if you still do this,” You said, solemnly. Rafe felt his stomach twist at your words. 

“You accused me of being ashamed of you… I am not, I could never be.” You spoke, voice already heavy with emotion. “I am, however, ashamed of what you do— I’m sorry— I know you are doing it with the purest of intentions, but there are other ways to earn money; you know there are.” Rafe felt his body turn rigged with rage. “And think of the scandal of it all… I love you, but please, please, please, you must understand that I cannot tarnish my and my family’s reputation with this,” You feel a tear fall from your eyes, and you cannot even stomach to look at Rafe in the eyes. 

“Get out,” You hear him say through gritted teeth after a moment of steely silence passed. You finally placed your gaze upon his and all you could see was anger and hurt, “Get the fuck out!” He screamed, and you backed away, not challenging him anymore, and just did as he told. As you sat at his bedroom door, you bit your tongue to stifle a sob as you heard him let out his rage, thrashing and ruining his room, throwing and breaking anything and everything. 

Three weeks passed, and you did nothing but mourn your secret relationship with Rafe. You barely left the house, actively avoiding the places you knew you would see him in. Only going out on the days you had memorized he had ‘business’ to attend to and won’t be out of town. A part of you felt entirely guilty, ending it and crushing your heart and his, but the more rational part of you saw that it was needed. Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is certainly another. And you thought you could handle a broken heart better than a tarnished reputation. 

“Hey!” You hear banging at your front door, and you frown from where you sit in the living room. You made cautious steps as the door pounded. You would lie if the violent banging of the wooden door did not make you hope it was Rafe, but as you looked through the peephole, you saw his sister. “Sarah?” You asked as you opened the door, and she smiled at you. “Where have you been? You’ve been MIA the past few weeks! Are you sick?” She asked as you ushered her inside your house. 

“Uhm… just haven’t been feeling well,” You fibbed as you took her to the kitchen and handed her some refreshments. “Are you better now?” You gave her a forced smile and nodded your head. “Great! Because you’re coming with me to a party!” You frowned at her words, “I don’t know… I’m not really up for a party,” You say softly, and Sarah shakes her head. “Come on! It’s Top’s birthday— he even sent me here to convince you we miss you!” Sarah pleaded, and your broken heart grew warm at her words. You took a moment before answering, “Fine,” You sighed and you saw clear excitement in her eyes as she had convinced you. 

“When is it?” You asked as Sarah took hold of your wrist. “Now! Come one, let’s get you ready!” You laughed as she hurriedly led you to your room and ready you for the party. “There are a lot of cute guys there… might wanna get to know them,” You could only blink at her words. Sarah sighed as you stood before your closet, “I… I know about you and Rafe,” She suddenly confessed, and you could not find it in yourself to be surprised. “And I’m not trying to bum you out, but maybe you should try to move on, find someone else… he certainly has,” You feel your heart pit at the last words she mumbled. “What?” You asked meekly. Sarah fidgeted with her fingers, “He’s been fucking his way through the island,” She said lowly. You sucked on your lip; you did expect it. He was a notorious playboy before you two went official, so it was only fitting he waltzes back into old patterns after your relationship’s demise. 

As you entered the party with Sarah, you squared your shoulders and avoided the dark corners of the house, knowing that is where Rafe would be. You barely entered the threshold when someone already came up to you, “Can I get you a drink?” A tall guy with brown hair and hazel eyes asked you; you flashed him a quick smile and a nod, and he led you to a drinks table, Sarah whispering ‘good luck’ in your ear as you departed from her side. 

Rafe felt his eye twitch as he saw you by the drink table chatting with a guy wearing one of your dresses that was his favorite. His hold on the wad of cash grew tighter as you had a smile on your face and the guy leaning closer to you. “Yo, dude, can I get my change?” Someone yelled at him through the blaring music. Rafe clenched his jaw and begrudgingly moved his eyes from you to hand the person their change. How could you just walk in this and flirt with guys as if you had not broken his heart? How could you bait him, lead in him with false promises and security— love and care for him like nobody else had, then just fucking leave!

You left the party proper, letting the guy you just met lead you to the backyard to where a swing set was, the both of you needing quiet to hold and actually conversation. He was not Rafe, did not come close, but maybe that was a good thing. You were grateful for the distraction, and if your heart were not so stubborn, you would be more interested in him. You did not know how long the both of you stayed chatting in the swing set, but when the both of you heard the distinct sound of a cop’s car and kids running out of the house, you two quickly stood and saw what was happening.

You took a deep breath as you saw the scene before you: Rafe being handcuffed by the sheriff and his little packets being confiscated. You locked eyes with ocean-blue ones for the first time in three weeks, and you saw nothing but rage and hate in them. You chewed on your cheeks as they escorted Rafe out, and you left the guy you were with to find Sarah. 

Rafe sat in the holding cell, staring blankly at the floor. He did not know how to process anything. He did not know if he should focus more on the fact that he was arrested or the scene he saw in the backyard with you chatting and laughing with some guy but the swing set. Rafe made himself more comfortable in his seat, certain he would stay the night there, but he was surprised as the cell doors were being unlocked. “Get up, Cameron; someone posted your bail.” Rafe blinked. Did his father truly come to get him? Who else would post his bail so quickly?

When Rafe walked out of holding, he saw you speaking with the sheriff, and he felt his knees grow weak. You turned to him, no word uttered before you stepped outside, and he simply followed. Rafe saw his truck parked outside, guessing one of his friends dropped you off before leaving because you never learned how to drive. Rafe sighed, took hold of the passenger side door handle, and opened the door for you, like always, hearing you mumble a quick ‘thanks’ before the two of you were enveloped in silence once more. 

You sat stiffly in your seat as Rafe drove you home, but halfway through the drive, Rafe stopped by the side of the road. “Why?” He suddenly asked as his truck came to an abrupt halt. “I know you didn’t want to bring your dad into this,” You answered quietly. Rafe huffed and shook his head. “No— why the fuck did you end it?” Rafe confronted. “Rafe, I told you, we can’t be together with all this… shit! I— I can’t be with you if you keep doing this. Do you know how scary it is for me? Besides being labeled as the girlfriend of a drug dealer… I have to wait for you to go home, hoping you’re unscathed—that you didn’t get into any danger. I don’t want to live with that kind of anxiety, Rafe!” You paused your lips as you saw his tight grip on the steering wheel. You feel your eyes welling with tears, and you curse yourself as your tears will surely ruin your makeup. 

“Fine, I’ll… I’ll quit,” Rafe said after a moment, and you shook your head and crossed your arms. “Don’t make empty promises, Rafe.” You sighed as he tried to take hold of your hand. “Baby, you know I always keep my promises… remember when I said I’d quit doing drugs? I did it, didn’t I? I did it for you, and I’ll do this for you again,” You swallowed thickly at Rafe’s words. “Rafe…” you trailed, not knowing what to say. “I swear— I can put all of this behind, just… I can’t lose you, not you.” Rafe pleaded and you could only reach forward and kiss him. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want it to come to this— I never wanted to give you an ultimatum bu—“ Rafe cut you off by kissing your lips once more, starved by the taste and feel of you. “I know, baby, I know.” He sighed as he pulled you towards his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed yours. “Sa… Sarah said you’ve been sleeping around,” You say quietly as he leaves marks on your skin. “Bullshit. You know I can’t get it up for anyone else… I only want you,” Rafe breathed out and cupped your cheek. Between his past business and his wallowing for your relationship, where would he even find time or the want for other girls? You slowly nodded and decided to believe his words. 

‘I’ve missed you,” You confessed and saw him smirk. “Good.” He answered and smashed your lips. He quickly undid the zipper of his jeans and hiked up your dress to your waist. You did not even notice it, but you were already so wet for him, your wanting aiding you to sink down on his cock. Rafe watched in amazement as your eyes rolled back and your lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “Oh god… Rafe,” you called out breathlessly, already feeling him brush over the sensitive spot in your cunt. This position was his favorite because he was able to take you deeply, have your body flushed against his, and, most importantly, he got to kiss your plush, sweet lips. 

Rafe yanked down the top of your dress and took your tit into the cavern of his mouth as you bounced on his cock. “God, you’re so pretty,” Rafe breathed out as you clenched further along his length. “And you’re all mine,” he added and gripped your behind. “Yes… all yours,” You agreed as you moaned, the windowing of his truck fogging up. You grew careless at the passing cars, unable to find caution that the both of you might get caught, for you have missed Rafe and his cock terribly. “Are you gonna come, baby? Is my pretty girl gonna come?” Rafe hissed as he felt you rest your head on his broad shoulder; you often did that as you concentrated on reaching your peak. 

He felt you nod, and he reached towards your breast to cup and pinch the bud, earning a loud moan from your lips. Rafe was quick to follow you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, as three weeks without you had made him desperate. “Fuck…” Rafe hissed, and you cupped his cheeks to kiss his lips. 

You breathed heavily as you stared at his hazy eyes. “Rafe?” You called and hummed. “Please, don’t prove ‘em right? Please?” You asked, and Rafe smiled, nodding his head. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” 

[imasl0tforchallengers]

Idk if you still take requests but if you do I would love to see a drew x reader where they have to do a sex scene (like in hellraiser) it’s so hot

Just Acting

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Masterlist

Sometimes when as an actor, the lines between what is real and fake can get blurred. The worst is when that happens during an intimate scene, especially if that scene is so primal with the coworker she has a crush on.

Drew’s grip pulls her head back so that his face is next to hers. His barely covered dick hits against her bum. She lets out pants as instructed and does her best to focus on acting instead of the numerous people behind the camera. “I knew you were a little Slut. Look at you taking it so good,” Drew growls in her ear in character as Alex Tanner, a professional escort. Her character, Stacy Morris, moans out and looks him in the eye with a small nod. “So good. Harder,” she asks in a babble. He chuckles, his hand going to grip her breast only covered in a skin-coloured nipple cover. He gives it the script squeeze before faking pulling out of her and flipping her on her back. He pulls her onto his lap so she is straddling him and the make believe thrusting continues. She bounces with him and struggles to conceal her real moans as his hard length slams against her protected pussy. “YES, ALEX. KEEP GOING,” she screams, running her fingers through his hair to yank on it. Her hands fall to his back and tear down it, which creates beautiful red steaks. 

She presses her lips against him and their mouths move in tandem. This is just acting. This isn’t real. She reminds herself, over and over again. “Cut,” the director calls out and it takes the actors a second to process the command. They begin to slow down and their breaths can be heard throughout the stage. Sweat runs down their faces and they look at each other with embarrassed smiles. She hates to admit that she got caught up in the moment and by the look on his face, he might have too. The director comes over to inform them that they got the shot and that they are moving to the next scene. 

———

Y/N is moving around her hotel room getting ready for bed when a knock comes at her door. She slips a strand of hair behind her ear and goes to get it. “Hey, Drew. Is everything okay?” she greets, steeping back to let him into the room. He looks nervous as he bites the corner of his lip. “Yeah, I was just wondering if we can run through the scene we did this morning. I know Wayne said we got it but…umm… I don’t feel like we did.” Her heart skips a beat at the reference of the scene. Her cheeks feel like an inferno. She nods, “Uh…yeah, of course. Anything to get the scene right.” He smiles shyly at her. “Cool. We don’t have our modesty wear; however, we are both adults so are you okay with being naked? We can practise fully clothed, if you prefer though.”

The gurgle in her stomach begins to grow. “I think we can do it naked. We are professionals after all.” He nods and they both awkwardly get stripped down. She isn’t surprised by the size of his length and she knows it isn’t going to be actually inside her, yet it doesn’t stop her from squeezing her thighs together in need. His heart stops when he notices the movement. 

She gets on the bed on all fours and looks back at him when she feels his hesitation. “It’s okay. We are just acting, right? This is for our job,” she reassures. His head bobs and he gets settled behind her as he is supposed to be for the scene. They go through the scene and everything feels like acting until she is straddling him. This new position means that their genitals are in direct contact and he shifts under her. He can feel how wet she is and he yarns to be buried deep within her. He notices her expression turning to uncertainty, so he pulls away. “Are you okay? We can stop if you feel uncomfortable,” he says. She shakes her head, “No. No. I’m fine. I can keep going.” To make her point clear, she does as she is scripted to do and rises to pretend to sink down on his cock; however, as she goes to pretend to ride him, she feels his tip fall at her entrance.

Their eyes meet and they stare at each other for a few seconds, trying to figure out what the other is thinking. Since nothing is said, she continues to allow his length inside of her. Her moans fall on his ear and this encourages Drew to begin bucking up inside of her. She bounces with the help of his hands on her ass to meet his movement. The two of them fall into pleasure and it starts to go off-script. His eyes lock on her breasts bouncing in front of him and he can’t help but lean forward to take one into his mouth.

She squeals in delight at the feeling and laces her fingers through his hair so that he stays in place. “Drew,” she calls out. They both freeze. The utterance of his name breaks the spell over them and it is time to admit what they are truly doing. “This isn’t just acting anymore,” he murmurs against her neck. “I want this to be real and if you don’t, then tell me now and I’ll leave.” She pulls his head away so she can crash their lips together, “This is very real to me. I want that too.” He smirks at her and his movements slow down. He flips them so that she is on her back and he is on top of him. His thrusts may have slowed down but they still reach every part inside of her that she needs. They are both brought to their orgasm and his movements stop while they recover. He slips out of her, dropping to her side on the bed. She looks up at him with doe eyes and snuggles himself into his side. He kisses the sweaty border of her hairline. “Please tell me this is real. That this isn’t us just acting or a dream,” she whispers. He lets out a low chuckle, “I promise. This is real and it definitely won’t be the last time we do that. I love you, Y/N.” She sighs in his hold. “I love you too, Drew.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[imasl0tforchallengers]

OMG Im begging you to write about "You and your friend teasing Rafe in the back of the car on the drive home from the bar" got me feral

Hehhehe 🤭🤭🤭🤭 gahhh here’s a little more on that for you bb. Thank you for your ask 😘

+18

Minor DNI

Cali grabs the back of your neck, pulling away from your kiss, smiling against your lips. "Fuck, Rafey. Your girl’s so sweet," she whispers, her voice hoarse from a night of partying. You brush the straps of your dress off your shoulders, quickly unclasping your bra while Cali works on hers. Your boobs bounce free, making her giggle, her hands instantly draw to your tits.

Topper glances in the rearview mirror and lets out a gasp. His mouth falls open, unsure of how to feel. "Yo, what the fuck is happening back there-" The car swerves as Rafe shoves him from the side, shushing him.

“Shut the fuck up, man. Let the ladies play. Aight?” He brushes off Rafe, turning his focus to the back.

“Cali. Baby… Don’t think we could’a talked about this before?” he whines.

“If I gotta tell you to shut up again, I’m kickin’ your ass. Plain and simple. They’re just kissin’, Top.”

"You're a lucky man, Rafe.” Cali coos, dismissing her boyfriend completely.

“I know. She’s perfect,” Rafe sighs as he cranks his neck to get a better look. His light blue eyes hanging low - drunk, high, and horny; just seconds away from crawling into the back seat himself. "Just pretend like we’re not here. Wanna watch you eat her pussy-”

“Jesus fuck!” Topper scolds. “Enough.”

“What, man?” Rafe asks through a taunting laugh. “You’re not enjoyin’ this.

“I mean… I am but I’m fuckin’ drivin’. I’m gonna kill us all.”

“Yeah - yeah. Don’t do that. I’d miss this,” Rafe grins smugly as he digs in his pocket. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ll record it. Topper narrows his eyes on Rafe, making Rafe roll his away. You a virgin or somethin’ Thornton. Why are you actin’ like such a pussy. Don’t you and Cals fuck?”

“We fuck. A lot. Okay?” Topper scoffs as he tightens his grip on the wheel.

“Then stop bein’ a bitch.”

“Yeah. Stop bein’ a bitch, baby,” Cali teases before deepening your kiss. Your tongue rolls with hers tasting the sweetness of her lipgloss and the liquor lingering on her lips from the bar.

“Fuck, baby. Keep goin’,” Rafe pleads. “Don’t stop.”

She works lower, kissing down your neck as Rafe adjusts himself. His long, thick dick pressed against his jeans. Cali wraps her lips around your nipple, massaging and pressing your breasts together. Your moans fill the small car, making Rafe groan longingly. You lay back on the seat slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. Her fingers draw up your skin, setting your body ablaze as they drift between your thighs.

"Can't imagine how wet you are, princess," Rafe mumbles. Cali pulls off your panties, handing them to Rafe. “Fuckk.” He hums as he rubs his rough thumb along the wet lace, getting his answer. She grabs your legs, spreading you open further, pressing your body into the leather seats. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen. What about you, Cali?" Rafe brags as he points his phone at you.

"Everything about her is pretty Rafe..." She sighs. Cali dips her small fingers between your folds, spreading your slick, extending a hand to him. Rafe looks at you, getting the go-ahead from you before sucking her fingers clean.

“Mmm… mhmm. That’s my baby,” he lives as he tucks your panties in his pocket. "Dirty fuckin' girls.” Cali slaps your thigh, making you squeal and Rafe groan. She leans in, lapping at your cunt, making you throw your head back. "That’s right… suck her fuckin’ pussy, Cals. Shittt. You two are gonna kill me," he mumbles as Cali sucks down on your clit. “Let me come back there, princess,” Rafe smiles. You shake your head ‘no’, biting your bottom lip as your breathing quickens. “Just a little tease. Aren’t you, baby girl.”

[imasl0tforchallengers]

LOVE AND ACES | Art Donaldson

Summary ⇝ Art is mesmerised by your skill, and when you and Tashi agree to spend time with him and Patrick at their room, things get heated, to the point where he’s utterly infatuated by you.

Warnings ⇝ mentions of slight tashi x reader x patrick, swearing, drinking, smoking, kissing, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f), handjob, early orgasm, orgasm in clothing, cum eating, mentions of foursome, fingering, hair pulling, praise—ART IS A SCHLUT FOR PRAISES.

note: there will be a somewhat part 2 in the future

"No, don't even worry about it girl, you beat me fair and square," Tashi Duncan said to you, tight lipped smile. You had recently qualified for the finals of the your schools tennis tournament.  You remember how the ball managed to skim her racquet making you the winner. You knew she was happy for you but you also knew how important tennis is to her.

"I know how much this meant to you though," You sigh. The two of you were currently in her dorm room, sitting crossed legged and facing each other.

Tashi let out a soft exhale before meeting your gaze, the pain evident across her face. She pushed a smile onto her features, "Yeah... It did," she began, her words slow as if choosing each one with care. "But hey," Tashi reached out, gently grabbing your hand. "I'm happy you won," she said genuinely.

"Thank you, Tash," You grab her slender hand ad give it a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to its place.

"I mean it," she said, her words soft as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you had spent countless hours practicing together, supporting each other through both wins and losses.

"Yeah, welp I better go and get rest. Game is tomorrow," You pat your lap, swinging your legs to your side to stand up from her bed.

Tashi watched as you got up from the bed, her eyes studying you closely. There was a hint of disappointment in her expression, but it vanished quickly as she smiled. "Alright, sleep tight," she said, her voice neutral.

"You too, and also, you're coming to watch, right?"

Tashi chuckled, her expression lightening, "Of course I am, wouldn't miss it for the world," she assured you, a smile forming on her face. "You better bring your A game," she teased, a small smirk on her face. Her words were light, but you could tell there was still a hint of upset lingering in her eyes.

"You got it boss," You look at her once more before leaving her dorm. You gently shut the door behind you before walking down the passage to your room.

You opened the door, immediately going to your bed and flopping on it. You didn't bother changing from your hoodie and cotton shorts before drifting to sleep.

The sun intruded your curtains before anything else did. You stirred from your sleep before hazily getting up. You brushed your teeth and hair, got dressed in your tennis uniform, grabbed everything you needed before making your way down to the tennis court.

No matter how well you did, you always got nervous. Tashi made sure to tell you that every time you played a match. You loved the girl but sometimes all she did was point out flaws that perhaps were not of your interest.

The hairband in your hair suddenly felt too tight, and your shoelaces were tied too tightly, the racquet in its sling felt too heavy on your arm and your palms too sweaty.

It wasn't like this was your first time ever playing, yet it felt like it was. You didn't know what you were more scared of. Losing and not qualifying for the cup, or disappointing Tashi.

Tashi arrived early, of course she did, finding a good seat to watch the match from.

The grandstands filled with people, Tashi could feel her heart beating faster, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. She had already gone over every possible outcome in her head; you break a bone or twist an ankle; you miss one too many balls; or worse.

"I cannot believe it, dude. I mean, I for sure thought it would be Tashi Duncan playing, but not her!" Tashi overhears some loud voice mention her and your names, she has the urge to turn to look but ignores it. "She's in another league, she's beautiful!"

"And now entering the court, the girls singles world number 1 and winner of the Junior French Open..." The commentator says your name and majority of the crowd blister in cheers.

Tashi sees the way you smile too big to hide your nerves as you step onto the court, waving at the crowd, eyes immediately looking for her. When you do make eye contact, she sees your shoulders relax a little.

Art has heard Patrick pine and want Tashi, but he's heard him rant and rave about you, last night he would not shut up about how you beat Tashi by the skin of your teeth.

You took a sip from your bottle as you set it down on the floor next to the chair, slinging your racquet off and unzipping it.

You stuck out a leg and did last minute stretching, allowing for your muscles to ease and thankfully, your nerves dissipating.

Then the match began and you were all over the court. Your shots were precise, your movement nimble, and your concentration unwavering. Your Russian opponent, Irina Petrovska , couldn't quite keep up, struggling to return each of your powerful serves and shots.

Shared grunts emitted from the both of you, your shoes squeezing against the tar. Sweat dribbling down your temples.

Art and Patrick sat watching, their jaws practically on the floor. The ease in which you were demolishing Petrovska was incredible. They tried to come up with words to describe your performance but found themselves at a loss.

One second you were in the farthest corner on the baseline and the next, soaring through the air as the ball slammed from your racquet, you positioned a meter above the service line.

Tashi sat there, watching every move you made on the court with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Your game was flawless and it was clear that you were dominating the match.

Minutes ticked by, a short interlude and then it continued. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. With one last toss up of the ball, you won an ace, and victory was yours.

Pride swelled in your chest as you were looking at Tashi who gave you a smile and clapped. You did it, securing another win in your name. Petrovska has an absolute meltdown, cursing at herself in Russian, smashing her racquet to the ground.

Tashi made sure you had a small party to celebrate your win. Your family was there, the people who watched the game, other friends and your fans. It was nighttime, supposed to be cold but the twinkling fairy lights managed to emit the tiniest bit of warmth, the alcohol in your system definitely helped as you and Tashi danced to Nelly.

You tap Tashi on the shoulder. "I'm thirsty, come with me?" You asked, she simply nodded as she followed you to the table, both of you grabbing your drinks.

"Come, let's sit down over there," She points to some loungers off by a wall where it's more quiet. "Just want to get away from all the busy."

You follow suit before plonking yourself on the one to the left. "Ugh, my feet hurt," You complain, Tashi nodding next to you. You let your eyes momentarily flutter closed before voices interrupt.

"I'm Patrick Zweig—."

"Art Donaldson."

You open your eyes to see two males dressed in jeans and pale coloured button ups. One has curly black hair and the other, slightly longer blonde hair. Both of their eyes flitting between you and Tashi.

Tashi is the first to speak. "I know who you are, you're fire and ice, right?"

You let out a giggle through your nose, drawing both their attentions. The blonde one flushed as pink as his shirt while the one with the black hair grinned. "Hm, so which ones which?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The darker haired one winked.

"You were fucking incredible today," The other male spoke, looking straight at you. "I mean, it wasn't even tennis, it was something entirely different."

"Thank you," You give him a smile which he mirrored.

"I felt bad for Ilina."

"Don't be, she's a sore loser," You scoffed, taking a sip from your drink.

"And a racist bitch, she's constantly say bad things under her breath in Russian at half time," Tashi said. "Hey, you're going to Stanford, right?" Tashi asked the blonde who looked slightly surprised at her question.

"Uh yeah, how'd you know that?" He questioned.

"I just accepted their offer and they mentioned you," Tashi replied.

"You're not going pro? You're going to a college?" The one with the dark hair asked.

"Yeah, we both are," Tashi jabbed a thumb in your direction and you nodded.

"Yup, I mean I still wanna keep up my education and not flunk only to be sleeping in my car after school," you chuckled.

"Girls! Come to the trophy stand, I want to take pics of the both of you!" Your mother ushered with a big smile, holding up her well expired phone. "And the photographers want some of my baby as well!"

"Right, coming mom!" You yell, "C'mon," you motion for Tashi to follow.

"Let's go," She turns to the two boys. "Gotta go..."

"Yeah, bye!" You wave one last time before disappearing into the crowd of people. The two boys watched as you and Tashi plastered on massive smiles in front of the pristine trophy you won as a photographer snapped photos.

During which, you had learnt that Patrick was the one with the black hair and Art was the one with the blonde hair when you asked Tashi who was who.

Your cheeks ached and your eyes burned when the camera was going off, a multitude of people standing next to you at different times. You even stood next to Tashi while either of your families stood around you two.

"You ready to leave?" Tashi asked, her thumb flicking off some dried mascara that had fallen from your lashes and onto your cheek while you thanked her.

"Absolutely," She tugged on your wrist towards the pathway between the bushes, having both to stop and say your last goodbyes to everyone.

It was quieter as the two of you walked before voices cut through the silence. "Hey!" You looked up to where the voice came from to see Art and Patrick, lounging by some benches in a tucked away corner.

"Guess we should see what they want," Tashi mumbled.

Getting closer, you noticed the two of them smoking cigarettes, both immediately standing up when you and Tashi approached. The smell of tobacco hung in the air, mingling with the cool evening breeze. "Hi," you greeted them, your voice breaking the silence. Patrick glanced at you, then quickly turned his gaze to Tashi, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Don't you guys have a final tomorrow?" you asked, genuinely curious about their casual demeanor.

"It's just juniors, so nothing to worry about," Patrick confirmed, his tone dismissive. He looked bashful as he stared at your best friend, his cheeks reddening slightly under her gaze. It was clear he was more interested in her than in any exam.

You nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "Okay, well um, it's cool how you two stayed," you said with a smile, feeling a bit awkward.

"Do you two smoke?" Patrick asked, his own cigarette bouncing against his bottom lip when he spoke, drawing your attention briefly there.

"No," Tashi replied faster than you did, shaking her head vehemently. Her long hair swayed gently as she did, catching the fading light of the day.

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, no, we don't smoke," you said, watching as Patrick slipped the cigarettes back into his pocket.

Patrick nodded while Art sucked on his cigarette. "Do you guys wanna go to the beach?"

You agreed and Tashi did once you did, and so now the four of you were walking to the hill that was actually above the beach, you sat on a rock while Tashi sat on a discarded tree stump, the boys sitting on chairs.

Tashi spoke about tennis— she always spoke about tennis, you sat and listened to her getting appraisal, you got complimented on your game and your skills, but you just smiled in response where as Tashi would talk about how tennis was like a relationship.

You weren't really paying much attention, instead choosing to look over your shoulder at the glistening waves of the ocean, reflecting the moon's edge. The rhythmic sound of the waves was almost hypnotic, drawing you into a tranquil state.

"And you?" Your name was called, snapping your attention away from nature. You turned to find the blonde staring at you intently, a curious look in his eyes.

"Huh?" you responded, a bit startled and disoriented from being pulled out of your reverie. The question hung in the air, and you realized you had missed something important in the conversation.

"Tashi was explaining what tennis is to her, so I asked you what tennis is to you," He continued, finishing off his cigarette.

"Oh, uh, a sport I guess," You shrugged. "It's great and all but..." Tennis wasn't your first choice, nor your second, yet the weight of your future was not dependent on your hands. It was on your father's, and after he saw what Tashi could do and the success that lies in the sport, you were ripped away from your passion and plonked in the middle of the court. It wasn't that you didn't like tennis, you just didn't love it.

"What?!" Patrick's eyes bulged out his head as he sat up. "Just a sport?! Surely you're joking?"

You shook your head earning a scoff from him. Tashi went quiet, looking at her lap. A gentle smile on her face, somehow gif answer struck a little bit of shame in her.

"Hey, um, I think I should go. My dad's probably gonna come looking for me," Tashi spoke, standing up from her seat.

"Oh yeah, hold up. I'll walk you to yours," you said, also standing and dusting the back of your pants, trying to brush off any dirt that might have clung to you. You glanced back at the ocean one last time, the waves still shimmering under the moonlight.

"You have Facebook?"

"What?"

Art tilted his head towards Patrick. "He's asking for your numbers, and so am I."

"Not a home-wrecker," you muttered under your breath, your eyes darting between the two of them. Patrick shook his head at your response with a small smile.

"We don't live together, so it's barely a home," Art nodded at his words, agreeing.

"Yeah, and Patrick has a girlfriend," At this response your eyebrows raised, Patrick's expression fell.

"It's barely a relationship," He excused.

"Sure. They put you two in the hotel in Flushing, right?" Tashi asked them with her arms draped across her chest, shielding her from the chilly night air.

"Room 206."

You let out a short giggle through your nose, softly nudging Tashi with your elbow. "They want you to go tuck them in."

"Not just her, and no, we wanna keep talking..." Art cocked his head, blonde locks falling over his brown as he did as such. "...about tennis."

"Okay," you shook your head, urging Tashi to continue walking. She thankfully did.

"We have beer!" you heard one yell after the two of you, making you laugh. You glanced back over your shoulder with a playful smirk, catching a glimpse of their hopeful faces before they were both covered by the thick bushy arch-way.

You were always in Tashi's dorm, the two of you out of your dresses and into something more comfortable. You chose black cotton shorts and a white Nike hoodie. "I think it'll be fun, don't you?" She asked as she sprayed some deodorant over herself.

"Yeah,but they also seem like two die hard virgins," You snickered. "But shame, they were sweet," Your chin was nestled in the palm of your hand as you silently watched her.

"Or maybe they're secretly sex gods," Tashi shrieked when you threw a pillow in her direction, laughter bubbling from her lips. "What? I'm just saying! The blonde one was totally into you!"

"We had minimal conversation," you playfully rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed as Tashi made her way to the door.

"Yeah, but you didn't see the way he was looking at you when you weren’t looking," She said in a sing-song voice, opening the door and shutting it behind you, the two of you walking down the passage together.

"Okay, sure Tashi."

"Do you think they're actually coming?" Art, who was laying on his back on the bed, asked. Legs leaning against the wall as a cigarette dangled from his lips, tossing a ball up and down.

"They might," Patrick groaned when the AC didn't work, even after he had banged on it multiple times.

"Dude, you made it sound like we wanted to fuck them in here."

"...we do."

"And if they do, then what's your plan?"

"We each have one, or worse, they both have one, while the other sits in the bathroom."

"Just face it, they're not coming," and then, there was a knock on the door, both boys went stock still and rigid, a second knock brought them out of their shock before they were hurriedly stumping out their cigarettes and throwing on shirts.  The door before you ripped open, revealing the two who looked out of breath and flushed. "Hey."

"Hi."

So now the four of you ended up sitting on the floor, sporting one beer can between you all, and a deck of cards as you guys were in the middle of Go Fish. "You guys went to boarding school."

"Mhm, we've been bunk mates since we were twelve."

"That's cute," You said before taking a swig from the chilled can of beer, before placing it down in front of you.

The conversations switched between different topics. "So what about the two of you?" Tashi asked, gesturing between the two of them. It took a solid minute before they realised what she was insinuating.

"No."

"No."

"Well..."

"No, don't."

"What? It’s a sweet story," Patrick giggled as he recalled it, Art went a brilliant shade of red as he hid his face behind his shirt, hiding his embarrassment.

"Well go on, let's hear it," You leant backwards, leaning against your hands as you watched Art turn even more red before he threw his hands up in defeat. Patrick nodded.

"I taught Art how to jerk off," Patrick said, watching Art's head hang in embarrassment. You couldn't fight off the grin that made way on your face.

"Okay. Patrick was an early bloomer, and I think I was on time," Patrick said. "And one time, I thought he was asleep but he was, y'know... jerking off—."

"Jerking off. And, yeah..." Patrick butted in.

"And I asked him, "What are you doing?"And he told me; He's jerking off." Patrick again jabbed in with the 'jerking off' part. "He asked me if I've ever done it before and I said no, so he just...showed me."

"What do you mean he showed you how?" Tashi laughed, she had been sitting with her legs pressed against her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.

"No I mean...he did it on his bed and I did it on mine. We did it together but like, on opposite sides...in the room," Art looked like he wanted to die, to have the earth split open in two and swallow him.

"Silently?"

"Hmm? No, no. I was think of Kat Zimmerman and so..." Patrick explained.

"So I was thinking about her too."

"Because it's always better to have someone in mind, y'know?"

"So who finished first?" Tashi asked, you turned your head to look at her with a raised brow, wondering why she was asking all these questions.

"I don't remember..."

"I think it was him," Patrick pointed at Art. Art tried to deny but Patrick wasn't hearing it. "No... it definitely was. I remember," He began to chuckle. "I remember how he was just sitting there, like some kid who had spilt milk all over his lap. I knew enough to have a sock nearby. Forgot to tell Art so..."

"Oh Jesus, Patrick!" Art sighed, skin hot and pink from how much Patrick was letting on.

"No, I think it's a cute story," You giggled while Art looked at you distraught before running a hand over his face muttering things under his breath.

Tashi took a sip of beer before she shook the can. "We're out of beer.”

She said that before standing up, you watched as she looked around the room before deciding to sit on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. Her eyes cast down on the three of you as you still sat on the floor.

With a jut of her head, she said; "Come here,"

"Which one—?" Patrick was already pushing off the floor and sitting down next to her, Art following suit, while you decided to stay seated on the floor, turning to look at them.

Tashi sat on the bed with Art and Patrick next to her while you sat on the floor, in the boy's shared room. It took you by surprise when she leant closer to Patrick, almost as if she was going to kiss him before tilting her chin away and pressing her lips against Art's. Patrick looked butt-hurt to say the least.

Her lips mingled against Arts in a steamy kiss, Patrick's shoulders sagged and you, all you could do was watch. She then broke the kiss and kissed Patrick, Art watching their lips move together, mesmerised.

What shocked you the most after she had finished kissing Patrick, was when she bent at the waist to look at you. "Come here," Tashi instructed.

You blinked up at her before standing up from the ground and walking towards her. She grabbed the front of your hoodie and pulled you onto Art, whose hands had to grip your waist to prevent you from falling, your hands on his shoulders.

"Go on..." She instructed, gesturing between you and Art. Your lips parted to say something but closed as you turned to look over at Art.

Slowly, you brought your face to kiss, lips brushing his, which had a thin layer of saliva on them, and pressed them together. Arts hands moved from your hips to your lower back, lips moving increasingly faster and harder against each other.

Tashi watched as you kissed the boy, Patrick watched her. Her brown eyes blown with lust as she slowly brought her lips to Patrick's, eyes prying off of you before fluttering shut.

You leant closer, lifting your legs up to straddle him, his hands immediately going to cup your ass, to hold you firm in place. Art would let out small whimpers and whines against your lips, turning into putty when your fingers thread through his locks, the boy almost came in his pants when you tugged in his air.

It really didn't help when he felt your hips dip, as you began to grind your hips against his lap, his pyjama shorts were so thin, and your cotton shorts were just as, he could feel the heat of you against his aching erection.

Art gave up and lay back, having you still cage him in, hips relentless. You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your clothed arousal, which was dripping into your panties.

Art's lips broke away from yours, allowing for your lips to kiss down his jaw and suck purple and red bruises on his neck. His mouth lax, letting out whimpers of your name. "Aw, fuck...shit..." He'd moan, his strong hands gripped at the flesh of your hips, his own hips kept rocking up against you.

You were well aware of the scene next to you, Tashi and Patrick who's lips were locked together, Patrick was more rough with Tashi than Art was with you, but he wasn't as talkative or loud than Art.

"Please?" Art didn't know what he was begging for, but he needed something. The small patch of wetness in his underwear from his pre-cum was seeping through to your own wet patch of arousal.

"You like this, Art?" You asked against his skin, Art nodded, his larger hand finding the ends of your hair and tugging at it, you could only let out a moan of your own. You moaned his name, and that was Art's end game as he spilled his hot cum in his shorts, moaning out your name.

You couldn't enjoy it any longer, the way you felt your own high near, the way you felt wet and sticky down there, desperate for release before you were yanked backwards by Tashi, who gripped your hoodie. "Come on, it's time to go."

"W-What?" You asked in disbelief, back on your feet. Art had sat up and grabbed a pillow, hiding the massive spill in his shorts with a face as red as a turnip. "But I was...we were just—."

"Ah, ah, ah, it's past one. Bed time, missy." Tashi let go of your hoodie and began to walk towards the door. You could tell she enjoyed her kiss, with her messy hair and the dark marks that began to darken against her skin, but clearly that's all it was for her and Patrick—a kiss.

You had no choice but to follow, turning to look over at Art who watched you, like a kicked puppy, leave. "I'm not done with you," you pointed to him before you were out of sight.

Patrick waited until you were guaranteed to be out of ear shot before turning and grabbing Art by the shoulders and ferociously shake him. "Dude! Look at you! Almost banged one of the hottest chick ever!" He exclaimed. "You should totally go for her, she was definitely into you."

"You think?" Art got a little too excited and stood up, pillow slipping from his lap, exposing his semi-boner he got from recalling the events.

"Yeah," Patrick slapped Art's boner, who doubled over in pain. "Go for it."

A week had passed, Tashi and Patrick were somewhat a thing, as for you and Art, well, he thought you were ignoring him. Anytime he saw Tashi, you weren't with, you were always with Tashi. The one time he asked her where you were and she said practicing on the courts, when he got there, there was no sign of you.

Art wondered if he did anything wrong, if you regretted the kiss. Since the kiss, Art hadn't been able to get you off his mind, he knew of you before and thought you were brilliant and was somewhat attracted, but now? He's utterly infatuated with you, and you... are no where to be seen.

You had been so caught up in your studies, you had one last final to write before you were done. You had spent most of your days harbouring knowledge in your room or practicing for shorter periods than what you perhaps should have, it was an ongoing cycle.

Thankfully all that stress was gone into this air when you walked out the exam venue, immediately going to the small vending machine. "God damn it," You sighed, your foot digging into the metal box when it swallowed up your five dollar bill and refused to give you your snack. "Why?"

Your name was called, you look at the directions to see Art jogging over to you. The closer he got, the more sheepish he became. "There you are, I haven't seen you all week."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I've just been studying for my final finals, between that and tennis I've just lost track of time," You told him honestly. You watched as his shoulders relaxed and he suddenly became embarrassed.

"Oh. I thought you were avoiding me," His hand rubbed the back of his neck, skin burning under his touch. "I'm sorry."

"Avoiding you?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "Why would I do that?"

"I...I don't know. I just thought that you didn't like the kiss we had, and got weirded out when I, y'know..." Art stared at his shoes, they were pearly white and brand new. "I didn't know, now I sound stupid."

"Pfft, no you don't," You let out a breath of a laugh. "And no, I did very much enjoy our kiss, and I kinda liked it when you came in your pants."

Art let out a groan of embarrassment, big smile stretching on his face as his head lifted up to look at the popcorn ceiling before looking at you. "Stop! Now you make me sound like a virgin," He laughed and shook his head.

"No, it was cute," You smiled up at him, leaning against the vending machine. It was silent as you two just smiled and stared at each other. His face inching to yours.

A beat passed. "I really wanna kiss you right now," He admitted, his voice was soft yet filled with desire. "Can I kiss you right now?"

"I'd be upset if you didn't," Arts lips were instantly on yours. Not caring if others could see. His one hand was on your jaw, fingers pushing between your hair, tongue licking at your bottom lip.

You didn't allow him into your mouth before you broke the kiss, finding it sweet how his lips chased yours before realising you weren't going to continue the kiss, opting to look at you with a small pout.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Can't give you everything you want," You smirked. "You'll have to find me later if you want more, and who knows? Maybe you'll cum in your pants again," Your smirk grows bigger when you finish your sentence before brushing past him and walking away, leaving a very flustered and shocked Art by the vending machine.

The irony of it all was your snack slipped from its holder, landing with a loud 'clang' at the bottom. Art replayed your words in his head, and now he couldn't wait for 'later'.

Except he didn't know when was 'later' and where it was. He doesn't know which hotel, you were in nor which room. He would only be able to catch you during school. He thankfully caught you in the schools canteen, where he was going to meet Patrick. You were busy ordering from the counter when he saw you, Patrick going to go sit down by the counter against the wall.

You had bought a chocolate croissant, spinning around only to almost bump into Art. "Oh, didn't see you there."

"Sorry," You could count how many times he'd apologised today on one hand. "Just, didn't know when to catch you, and I don't have your number so... uh," He licked his bottom lip as he chose how to ask you. "When is...later?"

"Ohh, later, as in round two, when we pick up where we left off later? M'kay, well that's whenever you want it to be," You gave him a smile after your words.

He tilted his chin down by a smidgen, his blonde locks barely moving as some were trapped under his red cap he wore backwards. "If I had my way, later would be now," He admitted, a flash of darkness surged though his eyes before it was gone as he stepped around you to order, leaving you just as shocked as you left him by the vending machine.

You let out a hum, turning around to face his back. "I'll come visit you tonight at eight, make sure your friend is gone before I arrive. See you," You chirped before spinning on your heel and walking out the canteen.

Art mulled on your words—yet again, and now he really, fucking couldn't wait until 'later'. He grabbed his two churros from the lady at the counter and made his way towards Patrick who was grinning from ear to ear. "So. What did she say?"

Art cleared his throat. "Hey, don't you wanna go spend the night with Tashi?" He asked, in hopes that Patrick would agree and not catch on to what he said, unfortunately for him, he did.

"Man, my man! You horn dog!" Patrick chuckled as he grabbed his churro and took a large chuck out of it, chewing on it mercilessly. "But yeah, I'll spend the night with Tashi."

And then, the 'later' came. Patrick had left and told Art he'd be back somewhere tomorrow, leaving Art all on his own. Art had only ever done casual, he'd gone on maybe two dates, which ultimately failed, and he's slept with maybe four other girls which would all leave by the morning, he told himself this was nothing new, yet found himself spraying on a little extra deodorant to smell good, for you.

His heart rate spiked when he heard you knock on the door, he rushed to rip it open revealing you in a pink sweater and denim shorts. He greeted you a little too quickly, he was nervous.

"Hi, Art," You stepped inside and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, he immediately melted into it as he shut the door with one hand.

"I have a movie and some snacks, if you wanna watch," His thumb jabbed towards the small TV in the hotel room that was positioned in the corner, facing the two double beds.

"Sure, Art. Lead the way," Art nodded and turned to go find a movie to watch, pondering over which was suited for the occasion before settling on some crappy romance flick. You sat at the edge of Arts bed, where you two had kissed. Art rushed to turn off the lights and grab a packet of chips, before plonking himself next to you.

You thought it was sweet how you two were supposed to fuck, yet here you were, watching some poorly executed film.

Twenty minutes had passed before you grew bored of the movie. You turned your head to watch Art instead.

You could see how tense he was, his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a chip, his back plank straight instead of hunched in relaxation.

A soft gasp caught in his throat when he felt your hand land on his back and run up and down his spine. "You're so tense, Art," He looked over at you, while you watched your hands movements. His hands firm on his thighs.

His eyelids fluttered shut and his lashes kissed his cheeks when your hands went higher to massage his head. He dared not open is eyes when your warm breath fanned his face. You were close, so so close!

"Look at me," Like an obedient puppy, his eyes snapped open as he stared at you. "Why are you so nervous?”

Art swallowed. "You make me nervous," He said, before whispering; "because I like you."

You couldn't fight off the smile that graced your face. "It's okay Art, I like you too," your hand moved to his forehead where you pushed his curls back, Art enjoying your touch before a frown graced his features when it left. He then felt your weight on him as you climbed onto his lap, exactly like the time you shared your kiss. Arms looped around his neck and your chest against his.

His hands got a little more touchy as they slipped under your sweater and settled on the warm skin of your lower back, his fingertips tracing every groove and bump there. His sky blue eyes looking up at you through his light lashes in the dimly lit room. "You do?" He whispered softly.

"I do," Then, you pressed your lips to his. He sighed against you, allowing for the rest of his nerves to evaporate, his arms ringing you closer. You felt his lashes brush your skin, and his curls against your forehead. You licked at his bottom lip and he immediately allowed for your tongue to press against his.

Your nails scratched at the spot beneath his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and an involuntary whimper to escape his throat. It was so easy to get him worked up, his erection making his Nike shorts taut. His eyes rolled back in his head when your hips shifted against his, allowing for some release.

"Mmm, Art," You breathlessly mumbled, even though the denim shorts barely helped you, the feeling of his hands touching all over your back and rear was still pleasant.

Your hips became more vigour, and Art became louder. "No, no, no..." He seemed to catch on to what you were trying to do, his hands flew to your hips and ripped you off, making you hover. Arms strong from his years of tennis. "You're not gonna make me cum in my pants again."

You smirked at this. "You're no fun," You shook your head, Art rolled over, now having your back against the bed, and your legs dangle off the sides. You wasted no time, grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing him to you, reconnecting your lips together.

Art kissed you back passionately, his tongue entering your mouth as he took it all in. His hands traveled over your body, trying to memorize it as he felt your curves and your skin. He continued to kiss and nibble down your neck, leaving small hickeys in his path. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, slowly and carefully pulling it off of you to reveal your exposed breasts.

Art couldn't help but admire your body. He took a moment to drink in the view, his eyes traveling up and down your frame. He reached out and gently ran a hand over your skin, tracing your curves with his fingers. His calloused fingers went to your nipple, you shuddered when he gave it a gentle tug before letting it settle back into place.

He smiled, a hint of desire in his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips loving down and finding your neck and nibbling gently.

"Art, take your clothes off," You whine, hand grasping the back of his shirt to pull at it. "It's unfair how I'm half naked while you're fully."

Art let out a bemused chuckle at your impatience, his smile widening. "Anything for you," he teased, his voice dripping with desire. He stood up straight, pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor before going for his pants, he then quickly bent at the waist and turned on the lamp, "Wanna see you."

You watched his expose his torso, now stripped down to his underwear before going back to you, his fingers moved forwards and dug into the waistband of your shorts before yanking them, you had already undone the button, with some not-so-fluid motion, they came off. His hands went to your hips but you were so eager to kiss him again, leaning forward and smashing your lips against his.

One of your hands went to steady yourself on his arm with the other was feeling the muscles and flesh of his torso, pinkie finger grazing over his black underpants until your whole hand was  grasping his hard cock, even through the material, you felt the ridges and veins, the small wet patch grew the longer you touched him.

"That feels good," Art admitted against your hips, his hips pressing further into your touch. "Really fucking good."

"I know, my baby," Your words sent a flutter through his chest. You moved your hand up before it slipped underneath his boxers, now nestled in your palm as you stroked him. You had to momentarily break the kiss, pushing his boxers down and spitting on the head of his cock, throbbing red, lubricating it as you jerked him off slowly.

"Mmf— fuck!" He hissed when your thumb brushed his leaky slit, hips bucking up into your hand.

You continued this motion, jerking your hand and rubbing his tip, moments before your name spilled from his lips like a mantra, white spurts of his thick cum spilling onto your hand. You continued until he rode out his high until bringing your hand to your lips and licking majority of his cum off with a satisfied hum.

Art grabbed your hand unexpectedly and moved it to his lips, his mouth opening, letting his tongue lap up the rest of his cum on your hand in languid strokes, eyes boring into yours. "You tasted so good," You told him, his eyelashes quivered and his cheeks flushed further at your praise.

He let your hand fall when he finished, you dug your hand into the bedding and shifted upwards until your back hit the bed frame. He crawled onto the bed until he was hovering over you, blonde locks sticking to his forehead with perspiration.

His head ducked forward to kiss your collar bone and up, trailing over your neck as he peppered it with kisses before his nose nudged your ear. "God, I need you so bad."

"You have me, Art," Your hands pressed against his shoulders, pushing him to the side and then onto his back, allowing for you to kick your leg over and straddle him, the only thing in your way was your own underwear. "All of me."

Art looked exactly that, like an art piece. His blue eyes contrast to his pink cheeks and pale hair, lips red and swollen from the numerous kisses, his chest heaving up and down and his heart thundering away, waiting for your next move. His hands went to your hips, thumb rubbing along any groove you had, his hands now warm. "All of you," He echoed.

You raised your lips, your fingers pushing your underwear to the side, not even off, your eyes flickered to his. He gulped when he saw how wet you were, arousal dripping down into him. He moved his hand to grab his cock, positioning it in a way that was easy for you to slip him inside.

First was the tip, it set you up for the anticipation of all of hi , the further you sunk down onto him, the more it hurt, but you weren't gonna complain, not after pining to Tashi about this boy. Art let out a whimper when he was fully sheathed, already tender from his previous orgasm.

You planted both hands on his chest before lifting your hips, and dropping them down. Arts hands tightened their hold as he assisted, having you lift them plummet onto his cock, his blonde eyebrows scrunching in pleasure. The movements got faster, and the euphoria expanded. "You're making me feel so good," You told him, hips doing a combination of grinding on and riding his cock

Arts eyes shone upon your words, pride sweeping in his chest and a warm feeling settling in his tummy. "Yeah?" He asked and you nodded, taking one hand of his and arranging g his fingers in a way that pressed against your throbbing clit, Art new immediately what you wanted and fervently rubbing circles on the aching nub, your pussy squeezing him at the added pleasure. "Ah fuck, feels so good, so so good."

Art didn't shut up as you rode him. He'd moan, groan and whimper your name. Telling you how good you felt around him. "Am I doing good?” His voice was soft and shaky.

"Yes Art, shit! You’re doing so good, baby. I'm so proud," and your words were even shakier. Arts fingers rubbed faster against your clit, he bent his knees which made you shift forward, his cock now repeatedly bumping against that one spot that had you seeing stars and galaxies beyond.

That sent Art toppling over the edge, his hands squeezed harder around your waist, head thrown back and his back arched as he came, buried deep in your pussy. You felt his warm load full you up, and his hips stop moving against yours, a loud moan of your name falling from his lips.

You couldn't beat the small ounce of disappointment you felt when he lifted you, soft cock slipping out, and your orgasm vaporise. "Did you enjoy?"

He nodded, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. His lips then parted before shutting, before ultimately opening again. "You didn't cum, did you?"

You sucked in a short breath. "No."

Arts eyes screwed shut like your words pained him. "I'm sorry," He mumbled.

You were going to say something but he beat you to it.

“Sit on my face."

"What?" You asked, astonished.

"You heard me, sit on my face."

You blinked once before swallowing, moving up now face to face with the wall as your pussy hovered over his face, slick with arousal and his own cum. He wasted no time, fingers pushing you firm against him, clit bumping his nose before his tongue dove into your pussy.

His own previous, salty release washed over his tongue, before it moved to your clit, where it began to flick at it. Your fingers sighting out his hair, pulling on it as you ground yourself further against his face. Even though your eyes were fighting to roll back into your skull and your tongue was threatening to fall out, you still made effort to look down at him.

His own eyes shut as he focused on his movements, you'd feel small vibrations against your clit, once he'd wrapped his lips around them, as he whimpered, savouring the way you tasted. Your body fell forward, head smushed against the wall at one particular flick on the tongue.

His long fingers sought out your puckering hole that clenched around nothing, until two fingers filled you up. You had to bite down on your forearm, when he split his fingers open, scissoring inside you. "I-I'm not gonna last any longer," You moaned.

Art mumbled something against you, his tongue lapping faster like a starved man, and that was it. You felt your release rip from you like a tidal wave, legs clamping around his head, drowning him in your fluids.

When you lifted your hips, you saw how the bottom half of his face was drenched in cum, his lips open and panting. You swung your leg around so you could lay next to him. You couldn't help your fingers that wiped away at his face, his pink tongue sticking out to lick your release from your fingers. "How was I? Truly?"

You let out a tired smile. "You were great, Art."

He nodded, tilting his head to look at you. "So were you."

You let out an exhausted chuckle before curling yourself into him, Art's hand went to stroke your hair, lips pressing a kiss against your hairline.

"Will I get to see you again? L-Like other than sex?" His words vibrated against your head.

"If this is a way of asking me on a date, then yes."

You felt him slowly nod. "Okay, yes. Good."

"Good."

"Good..."

anywho! be on the lookout for part 2 where they’re older, and there’s a whole truck load of drama (go figure as to what it is)

[imasl0tforchallengers]

I missed u.

Summary: During the night before the Challenger, Art knows Tashi is going to Patrick so he calls his ex, You. But ends unexpectedly.

Art Donaldson x reader!Oc. Kai Miller is you.

A/N: English is my third language, so bare with me. Minors DNI.

You sat at a bar, drinking Chardonnay, you had closed the bakery you owned, Glazed&Glory, you were tired, exhausted. The bartender asked if you wanted more, and you decided to get more. You had to prepare a huge order today, and you had a packed bakery since tomorrow is a tennis match being played at a nearby place from your bakery.

Tennis, you thought. Tennis was something you hadn't thought about since... Art Donaldson. It was now 2019 and 2006 was a long time ago. You moved on, right? "Another glass?" The bartender asked pushing you away from your thoughts. "Yes," you downed your glass. You stroll through your phone, checking if you had any messages. As you take a sip your phone rings, UNKNOWN NUMBER. It's probably a customer, you thought.

"We are closed, so sorry," You answered. "Kai?" You froze. "Hi, it's Art," You were silent, too stunned. What did he want? After thirteen years? "Um, I-" your breath was unstable. "I know, it's been a long time but I'm in town, I wanted to know if you would be okay with meeting me at Carl's." He said. Your mouth goes dry. "I-i-i don't know," you replied. "You don't have to, I just wanted to see how you we-" he continued. "I'm already here," you cringe.

"Oh? Can I meet you there?" Art asked, his voice dripped with desperation. "Um, sure" you said. "Ok, I'll be there in 5," he replied. "Kai?" He said. "Yeah?" You downed your glass. "It's good hearing your voice," you almost choked. You quickly hung up. You took in very deep breathes. Art? Art Donaldson?

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"Kai Miller?" You turned around. "Art Donaldson," you forced a smile. "It's been so long," Art said. He pulled you into a hug, his fingers burning through the fabric of your sundress. He hugged you tightly before saying, "You still smell so good, I will never get used to it," you cough softly.

You both sat on barstools. "So..." Art trailed. "How have you been?" he sat back as he ordered a beer. "Good. I see you and Tashi have been busy," he avoided your eyes, clearing his throat he said, "Ah, Tashi...yeah, we're doing great, so is Lily," you looked confused because you were. "Sorry, who's Lily?" You asked. "Um, our daughter," his eyes wandered.

Daughter? Your chest tightened, "Oh," you remembered how much you two wanted kids together. Art cleared his throat snapping you out of your trance. "What have you been up to?" He looked into your eyes. "I own a bakery, now, three branches," His eyes stayed on me. "What is it called?" He asked. "Glazed&Glory." He choked on his beer, eyes widening. "Holy shit," he coughed. "What?" You queried. "That's where we order donuts in California, Lily loves them, I love them" He explained smiling, you couldn't believe your bakery drew attention to the likes of the Donaldson's. "Aw, thanks," you smiled. "But I knew they tasted familiar, I missed your baking, how you would bring me glazed donuts after tennis practice," he looked at you, his gaze lingering at your lips as you drank your Chardonnay.

You two spoke until midnight, catching up and telling each other on what was missed. "So you and Lloyd dated?" He chuckled as you told him about your ex from Stanford. "Yeah," you giggled, the alcohol taking over your body. He watched as your breasts bounced at each movement, his eyes remained, thinking about how much he wanted to see you again, feel you, and care for you. "So you single right now?" He asked. You nodded. "I think I'm gonna go to the restroom, be right back," he said.

"M'kay," you replied. As he got up, someone pushed him, knocking her beer over and spilling it onto your sundress soaking your chest. "Fuck!" The sundress was wet, revealing your lacy red bra. "I'm sorry," Art used his hoodie to try and wipe away. He felt himself grow hard as he stared at your breasts. You looked up at him catching him staring. You quickly looked away. He inched closer, you breathed out. "Art..." Before you could say anything, his lips were against yours. His arms brought you closer. You kissed him back, "Art..." You gasped.

"You have no idea of much I've missed you," he said between the kiss. He grabbed your hand leading you the restroom, and locking the door. He captured your lips pinning you against the wall. "Art, you'r-" you said. "I'm what, baby?" He asked as his hand raked up your thigh. Your breath hitched. "You're m-married," you managed to say. "I know," he said, continuing. You pushed him off, "What?" He asked confused. "No, Art," you sighed. You couldn't let him, "You love Tashi," you said stepping back. "You serious? You gonna talk about Tashi?" He said. "Yes, why are you here, Art?" You queried. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I-i-i don't know, I- t-thought," he stopped speaking. He stood there recollecting his thoughts.

You looked at him, waiting for his response, "I just wanted to see you again," he said. "Why?" He looked at you, "I just wan-" he continued. "Want what? Why are you here? You made it clear that you didn't want me," you huffed, gaining anger. He was shocked by the sudden anger. "You chose Tashi over me, right? I needed you, I choose Stanford over Harvard for you, now I need to know, what the fuck are you doing here?" He did betray you. He looked at you, tears brimming his eyes. "Tashi is with Patrick right now," his voice cracking. "I needed someone,"

You stepped back, you chuckled, "So you call me? Really? Me?" He nodded. "Fuck, you are so fucked up, Art, you call me just because the women you married isn't with you? Just because she is fucking Patrick? Wow," Your chest tightened, a painful pang shocking your chest. "I see what this is, I'm a rebound," You pushed him. "No, Kai, you ar-" You slapped him. The noise filled the restroom. "What? We are not going to fuck, Art," You squared up to him, looking up at him.

"Your little wife doesn't want you, anymore?" You asked. Tears stung your eyes. "You are pathetic, Art," his jaw tightened. "Fuck. You."

You unlocked the door and left.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. Maybe part two???