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cavalierious-whim · 3 years ago

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Sylvain's wholly unprepared for Felix to ask him to slather sunscreen upon his pasty (well-defined) back.

Happy Sylvix Summer. Take my dumb beach fluff rife with Teen-aged Tropey Rom-Com bullshit. Read here on AO3 for better quality, and follow me here on Twitter!

Despite his long-harbored crush, Sylvain never thought much of a half-naked Felix until one fateful beach trip.

They’re past their high-school years and well into college. Young enough to not be tied down by relationships. That’d be boring to Sylvain, who has a new flavor every week and happily so.

Mostly because it’s easier to be casual than commit to something that’d mean more.

Felix is just an old friend, he tells himself. A second glance, really. Okay, well, maybe not second-- that’s a cruel thing to say. Sylvain would give his left arm for the guy, literally, but he’s never really considered the why behind the thought until then.

And sure, he’s always liked him, even if Sylvain’s never thought much about it. Felix is kinda cute in a deranged cat sort of way.

But now, it makes a lot of sense. Stares him right in the face, a visage of gleaming pasty white skin and deceptively toned muscles. Sylvain’s just fucking blind and stupid, and now it can’t be unseen.

Felix is no longer a scrawny and gangly thing; now he sports lithe and supple muscle. Defined shoulders and a slim waist that tapers into what’s probably the finest ass Sylvain’s ever seen. Pert and shapely, perfect in every way.

Sylvain stares long enough for his ice cream cone to melt all over his hand.

“I’d tell you to take a picture,” says Ingrid, her laugh pealing through the air from behind her hand. “But that’d only piss him off.”

“Ingrid,” says Sylvain panicked. He shakes the melted, sticky mess from his hand as he continues to gawk. At least they’re in the shade under his umbrella, so it’s only a minor mess. “When on earth did that happen?”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “When did what happen?”

Sylvain groans. Of course, she’d make him say it. Ingrid’s the worst (or the best) when it comes to forcing others to make fools of themselves. She’s already adopted a devilish smirk, waiting for Sylvain to dig himself a hole deep in the beach sand.

A grave might be more fitting, considering what Felix would do to him if he ever caught Sylvain staring.

“I mean, what’d you expect?” asks Ingrid, sparing Sylvain from further embarrassment. For the moment. Sylvain knows better than to think that she’s done with him. Ingrid’s only biding her time. “When people play sports, they get ripped.” She points to Sylvain. “Look at you. Look at me.”

“I play baseball,” says Sylvain in a low hiss. “I can throw a pitch as fast as a car on the highway and sprint the length of an entire field. Fencing is barely a sport when compared.”

Ingrid just looks at him, her face flat and unimpressed as she sips at her drink and twirls the tiny decorative beach umbrella within it. “I dare you to tell him that.”

Sylvain flounders the tiniest bit. Absolutely not. He likes living far too much. Ever since Felix picked up a foil and learned how to bout, he’d been considerably more dangerous than the crybaby know-it-all they’d all grown up with.

“But, like… how?” says Sylvain as he wonders, persistent in his confusion as to when Felix suddenly became handsome. Like, model handsome. Like, Sylvain would take him around and then pound him into the sheets handsome.

Sylvain never thinks about sleeping with men. Except for Felix, but that’s something that he usually pushes to the back corner of his mind because it’s really fucking awkward to think that way about your bestie.

And Ingrid knows, she’s known for a stupidly long time because of one shitty night where he’d drunkenly blubbered his feelings out to her. In rare form, she didn’t laugh at him that night, she’d only combed her fingers through his hair and called him the world’s biggest idiot.

He’s good at that. Being dumb. Probably his best quality.

Sylvain can’t stop looking, his eyes grazing over Felix’s perfect form. My wet dreams are never going to be the same again, he thinks, his mouth going dry.

“Disgusting,” says Ingrid, making a face. She knows what Sylvain’s thinking, what he can’t help but agonize about. But then she waves her hand dismissively. “Also, he does squats from sun-up to sun-down. No wonder his ass looks so good.”

“Wait, are you looking?” asks Sylvain a little too quickly. Accusatory. He watches her through a shrewd gaze.

“Oh, Goddess, no. I’d rather choke.” She makes another face, this one cross-eyed as she cuts across her neck with a finger dramatically. “I’ve just been watching your sorry ass moon over him--”

“I’m not mooning--”

“Who’s mooning over what?”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain freeze at Felix’s voice. Then, Sylvain laughs, high-pitched and incredibly awkward.

“Nothing--”

“Sylvain and how he’s--”

Sylvain kicks her and Ingrid curses. Felix watches on, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sylvain’s rarely rude to Ingrid (okay, so that’s a lie; he’s rude to her constantly, but she’s Ingrid, and she deserves it every time), but he shoots her the meanest look that he can muster.

Which, admittedly, isn’t very threatening.

“Is there a reason you look like a fucking five-year-old trying to threaten a classmate who stole your juice box?”

Sylvain nearly congratulates Felix on his brilliant use of imagery. Instead, he starts with, “Felix--”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” cuts in Ingrid. “He’s just annoyed that I called him out on his bullshit.”

With that, Felix perks up because if there’s something that he loves more than anything else, it’s watching Sylvain getting dunked on. Which is more often than Sylvain likes to admit.

“So,” says Felix, “The usual.”

“Felix, why are you even here?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to be so biting, but it comes out sounding quite like Felix himself, an absolute feat.

“We’re at the beach, and together at that if I must remind you,” says Felix, cocking his head to the side. “The sun’s high and blazing, and I’m pasty as hell. Help me with this.”

A demand, not a request. So incredibly like Felix. Sylvain barely catches the bottle that is thrown at him. “Sunscreen,” he reads aloud rather dumbly.

“Yes, you dimwit,” says Felix. “Not everyone tans like you. Some of us come out looking like lobsters, and I don’t mean in a tasty kind of way.”

Sylvain disagrees. Felix looks the tastiest he’s ever seen, and Sylvain’s known him for nearly two decades.

“So what, like rub this all over you?”

Felix rolls his eyes, replying slowly like he’s speaking to a child. “Yes. My arms are short and you’re conveniently there. Even if I’m flexible--” Sylvain super doesn’t need to think about that, “--there are parts of my back that I can’t reach.”

Sylvain would rather burn in Ailell than do this because this is now his absolute worst fucking nightmare. A unique hell, tailored just for him. A test of the Goddess.

Or a memory he’ll wank to for months to come.

Definitely the latter, knowing Sylvain.

Ingrid, bless her shrew-like and ill-tempered soul, shoots Sylvain an amused glance. Soaks the entire thing up, her mouth tipped to the side as she delights in Sylvain’s discomfort. This kind of thing fuels her; juicy gossip feeds her for days and then some.

Especially when it comes to Sylvain.

“Ingrid, fuck off,” says Sylvain. Felix, who didn’t see her look, reaches out to swat Sylvain in return. “Ow!”

“You fuck off,” says Felix. “Stop being rude.”

“She’s the one--”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” says Ingrid abruptly, “Before this lover’s spat gets any worse--”

“This isn’t a spat--” starts Sylvain.

“Lover’s?” exclaimed Felix, pink in the face.

That catches Sylvain’s attention as he turns to him. What an odd reaction-- the embarrassment as he refuses to look either of them in the face. Sylvain’s mouth falls open in surprise and Ingrid’s clamps right up. Then, she smiles, the sly little grin that she gets when she’s up to no good. Never bodes well. Sylvain’s about to say something when she speaks.

“I’ll come and check on your boys later, yeah?” Oh, Ingrid’s up to no good, about to throw Sylvain to the sharks. Wholly intent of leaving him behind with Felix and his newfound discovery that his crush is probably more than a crush.

“Ingrid--” starts Sylvain, but before he can properly beg her, Ingrid’s gone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of footprints in the sand.

Felix plops onto the towel in front of Sylvain, his back facing him. Sylvain looks at the expanse of it, far broader than he remembers. He swallows thickly as his hand hovers awkwardly over Felix’s skin.

“Insufferable, that woman. What my brother sees in her I’ll never know.”

“Even people with terrible personalities have matches,” says Sylvain in humor. A decent attempt at distraction that usually works with others.

Felix grunts. “Yes, well, you’d know that best of all, wouldn’t you?”

Ouch, thinks Sylvain. Nasty little stinger right out of left-field but incredibly on-brand for Felix. His favorite thing to do is remind Sylvain about his habitually shitty dating habits.

“That’s a little cruel, don’t you think?” Sylvain uncaps the bottle of sunscreen and squirts a generous amount onto his palms.

“What, can’t handle the criticism?” Felix snorts. “Sylvain, you’ve slept with the entire volleyball team, minus Ingrid.”

“Have you seen them, though? Legs up to here, literally. Except for Ingrid of course, because that’d be so gross--”

“Ridiculous,” says Felix, snorting again. “Utterly predictable. And you wonder why you’re always dead last.”

Sylvain frowns at the strange wording. “I’m top of our class.”

Felix doesn’t immediately answer. “That isn’t what I mean,” he finally says, tilting his head back slightly to look at Sylvain. Then his expression hardens, turning aggressive again. “Are you going to lather me up or should I go ask Ingrid instead?”

“No,” says Sylvain, “Just… yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“Sylvain, it’s just sunscreen.” There’s a tiny frown on Felix’s face.

Sylvain’s a confident man, able to woo anyone into his bed. Rubbing sunscreen into Felix’s skin should be easy. It isn’t. Sylvain hesitates and hesitates, fingers hovering over the smooth line of Felix’s bare shoulders.

Nothing explains Sylvain’s sudden dry mouth or the inkling that this is a terrible idea.

“Sylvain,” says Felix, clearly waiting.

Felix’s skin is warm to the touch and soft under Sylvain’s calloused fingers. He starts at his shoulders, massaging the liquid in, squeezing at Felix’s tight muscles.

“Tense?” asks Sylvain, teasing him.

“Tired,” says Felix, sounding-- well, just that. Exhausted, even.

Sylvain’s hands pause as he leans forward slightly. “You train too much.”

“You don’t train enough. You could be on the national team if you gave a shit.”

Sylvain laughs and leans even closer, his mouth near Felix’s ear. “Yeah, well, that’s the difference between us. I don’t want to be on the national team.”

Felix harrumphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “That just makes you dumb, then.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sylvain smooths his hands across the top of Felix’s shoulders, then sweeps them down and under his blades, thumbs digging into the meat of Felix’s back.

Felix lets out a low moan, a sinful-sounding thing that makes Sylvain bite at his lips and look to the sky. He’s never really prayed before, doesn’t believe in the Goddess, but he asks Seiros for strength.

“Shit, Sylvain,” says Felix with a sigh. “That’s--”

“Seriously, Felix, you’re all locked up.”

Felix whines when Sylvain raises his hand to press into the muscles at the base of his neck, his fingernails just barely scratching across Felix’s skin. “Sorry,” murmurs Felix, pink in the cheeks again, hands shifting awkwardly in his lap.

“You need to cool down properly after your sessions,” says Sylvain. “You’re working yourself too hard. Nothing but knots and bone back here.”

“Sunscreen,” says Felix suddenly.

“What?”

“The sunscreen. Your hands are dry.”

Right. The sunscreen. Sylvain isn’t supposed to be giving Felix a massage, he’s supposed to be oiling him up and readying him for the sun. He slicks his hands up again, murmurs an apology, and finds the lower part of Felix’s back this time.

“Sorry. Can’t have you burning to a crisp out there.”

Felix sighs at the touch, leaning into it slightly and Sylvain nearly dies on the spot. So, maybe he’s just now noticed how handsome Felix is, but it’s not exactly the first time Sylvain’s thought about him like this. Usually, when he does, he tucks it away deep-- not because it’s embarrassing, or Sylvain has reservations about men, but because Felix would slaughter him if he knew.

Sylvain lets out a long breath as he rubs the sunscreen into Felix’s skin, making sure not to miss any spots.

“What’s Ingrid doing?” asks Felix, nodding to where she stands fifty paces away in the sun.

Sylvain looks up, squinting at her. Ingrid flashes him a grin before pressing her thumb and forefinger together on one hand, and then taking her pointer finger with the other and--

“Is she--”

Ingrid makes the crudest gesture known to man, and then, wiggling her eyebrows, points directly to Felix, then Sylvain right after.

Sylvain’s going to kill her. Absolutely murder her in her sleep. He’s got a spare key to her place and he knows where she keeps the sharp knives. Glenn might forgive Sylvain for it if they properly explain. Even though Glenn’s nearly thirty, he still thinks it’s his job to protect Felix.

Especially from Ingrid’s never-ending teasing.

“She’s dead,” says Sylvain. “Next time I’m within a few feet of her.”

“Not if I kill her first,” says Felix.

Sylvain leans over Felix, shooting Ingrid the finger with both hands. She, naturally, shoots him one right back. “So fucking rude,” says Sylvain, leaning back again and slathering his hands with sunscreen once more. “And the things that she implies. Don’t listen to her.”

Strangely, Felix is quiet. Twiddles his thumbs in his lap. Sylvain watches him for a moment before resuming his requested task, catching the spots of his back that he’s missed.

“Would it be so bad?” asks Felix.

Sylvain’s hands pause. “What?”

“The idea of being with me. Is it such a terrible idea?”

Sylvain laughs because that’s what he does when faced with awkward questions. “Felix, we’re too old for gay jokes and Ingrid knows that. She’s just picking on us because it’s how she asserts dominance.”

Felix doesn’t even scoff which is a red flag, so Sylvain grasps him by the shoulders and looks at him from the side. “Hey, wait, are you worried about dating? I thought it wasn’t something you’re interested in?”

They’ve known each other since they were practically in diapers, so of course, they’ve talked about this: girls and dating. Well, more so Sylvain who always talked at Felix. Felix is relatively tight-lipped about it, even now, into their college years. Always says that he’s just not interested.

Never bothered Sylvain one bit.

“I mean, I know some cute girls--”

“Sylvain, I don’t want to date women.”

Oh. Oh. Sylvain’s mouth shuts tight as he absorbs this information. This puts a lot of things into perspective; Felix’s disinterest in women and how he’d roll his eyes whenever Sylvain would talk about them. His lack of celebrity crushes and such. Felix has just never said it so bluntly.

“Felix, it’s totally cool if you’re gay. I know some cute guys--”

Felix lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing at his face. “Sylvain, I’m not-- that’s not-- That’s not it.”

“Felix, you have to throw me a bone here, what on earth are you talking about--”

“I like you, you absolute imbecile,” says Felix very suddenly. And loudly. Entirely red-faced with embarrassment as he digs a hand into the sand beside him. “And Ingrid’s known for years because Glenn fucking told her, and that’s why she’s been so incredibly insufferable this entire time--”

Sylvain bursts into laughter, which in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best reaction. “Wait, no, no, that’s not why I’m laughing,” he says when Felix starts to pull away. Felix pauses, looking at him with barely contained aggravation.

“This isn’t funny, Sylvain,” he says quietly.

“Ingrid’s making fun of both of us, so yeah, it kind of is.”

Felix blinks very slowly, his face contorting into supreme confusion.

Sylvain sighs, rubbing at his chin awkwardly. “So look, here’s the thing. The shitty dating’s always been to fill a void because I’ve always been afraid to like, date someone properly. No commitment is so much easier than actual commitment and--”

“Sylvain, what on earth are you blabbering about?” cuts in Felix impatiently.

“I like you too?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question, so he clears his throat and tries again. “What I mean to say is, I’ve always liked you, I guess, but I’ve never really noticed you and--”

When Felix laughs, it’s always a bitter-sounding thing which is why Sylvain never wants to hear it. Means he’s about to lose his shit. This time though, he’s chuckling softly, rubbing at his face tiredly. “Let me guess,” he says quietly, “Ingrid knows.”

Sylvain swallows thickly, sitting there awkwardly with sunscreen-covered hands. “She, uh, might.”

“So, I didn’t have to resort to this, then.”

Sylvain shoots him a confused look. “Resort to what?”

Felix sighs, pink-cheeked with embarrassment again. “Parading around without a shirt on. The whole sunscreen thing. Ingrid’s blasted idea, of course, and now I see why. Glenn agreed, saying you’re the type to be visually stimulated but because I didn’t think that you liked me--”

“Wait, wait, back up,” says Sylvain, trying to process everything that Felix is trying to say. “What do you mean Ingrid’s idea?”

Felix finally looks at Sylvain’s face, annoyed with the entire situation. “She was tired of me not saying anything and told me to do something about it. I said it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t like me but--” He pauses and waves vaguely between them.

“She’s known that I’ve liked you for years,” finishes Sylvain quietly. “Oh, Goddess, I’m going to kill her.”

“Please don’t,” says Felix. “Because then Glenn would kill you and that would mean I’ve made an utter fool of myself for nothing.”

Sylvain looks at the sunscreen again. “Felix, I hope you realize, rubbing you down in this nearly ended me. Like, I won’t be able to move from this towel for at least ten minutes.”

At that, Felix smirks slightly, his mouth tipped up at one corner. “Well, I’m sure there are spots that you’ve missed.”

Sylvain groans at the idea.

“I’m joking,” says Felix quietly, reaching out to touch Sylvain’s shoulder, thumbing over it with uncertainty. “So what--”

“I mean, the answer’s yes, obviously.” Felix looks at him, his face carefully schooled into something bland. Obviously trying not to get his hopes up, so Sylvain continues. “I mean, I didn’t collapse onto Ingrid’s bathroom floor one night, wasted to only say no--”

“You what?”

“Okay, so forget about that--”

“So you were truly serious about liking me?” asks Felix, his voice cracking slightly.

Sylvain’s expression softens. “I mean, it’s never been so clear until today but--”

“Why today, of all days?”

Sylvain’s done a fantastic job of looking at only Felix’s face so far so he finally looks down, eyes sweeping over his chest. Sylvain swallows thickly. “I mean, look at you, you’re--”

“Save it for the women who warm your bed,” says Felix acerbically. He moves to get up properly and Sylvain reaches out to grab his wrist.

“Felix, wait, don’t do that.” Felix does. Waits for him to say his piece. “I’ve always liked you, but it never really clicked that you’re-- uh-- look, there’s no delicate way to say it, so I just will. You’re gorgeous. Handsome. I can’t stop looking at you because you make me feel things, and that’s something that’s just... Ingrid told me to take a fucking picture, Felix.”

Felix snorts at that, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then he plops back down to the sand.

“You realize that I expect to be more than a bed warmer,” says Felix finally, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’d never ask that of you,” says Sylvain, seriously. “Unless you wanted to, because trust me, I’m certainly not opposed--”

Felix reaches forward with lightning-fast speed, pulls open Sylvain’s swim trunks, and dumps a handful of sand directly into them. Sylvain looks down dumbly. Dreads the inevitable itchiness that comes with getting sand in the bits where you don’t want it.

“Okay, yeah, I deserved that.”

Felix hesitates and then says, “Insufferable.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvain in agreement.

“It’s part of your charm.”

Sylvain grins at him. “Oh, my charm? Does that mean that I won you over with my bewitching demeanor?”

Felix’s expression sours the slightest bit. “Don’t push it.”

It falls quiet between them, as they sit on the towel underneath Sylvain’s umbrella, but it’s a comfortable silence. Sylvain rubs the leftover sunscreen into his own shoulders as Felix tries not to stare in return.

“So,” says Sylvain finally. “Dinner on the pier maybe? Without Ingrid and Glenn, I mean.”

“Yes, nothing says fantastic first date like shoveling buttered crawfish into your mouth like a slob.” But Felix’s face is soft and fond when he looks at Sylvain, and Sylvain knows that it’s a date sealed for later that night.

Things are going to be weird, supposes Sylvain, but there are worse things. At least they’ll be figuring it out together.

“Who gets first dibs on dunking ice-cold seawater all over Ingrid?” asks Sylvain.

“I think that I can get Glenn to distract her long enough for you to fill the pail. Or, we can tag team her-- grab her and throw her in the ocean itself.”

That’s a better idea and Sylvain says as such, much to Felix’s entertainment. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” continues Sylvain. “We do owe her some credit.”

Felix snorts. “Are you going to give her the satisfaction of it?”

They both look at each other, then Sylvain says, “Absolutely not.” He pauses, reaching out to Felix, wanting to grab his hand and hold it. But he hesitates.

Felix sees and watches silently. “We’re dumb,” he finally says. “It’s taken us so long. We’re nearly done with college.”

“Yeah, well, late-bloomers and all that.”

“Sylvain, you’re the opposite of a late-bloomer.”

“Not where it counts.”

Felix sighs softly and reaches out, taking Sylvain’s hand, linking their fingers together. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. He and Sylvain have always been like that; silent in most of their communication because they just read each other so well.

Except for when it comes to their wants, apparently.

Still, better late than never supposes Sylvain when he squeezes Felix’s hand back.

#sylvain/felix #felix/sylvain #felix x sylvain #fe3h fanfiction #sylvix #fe3h

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another-bryk-in-the-wall · 4 years ago

Note

so uh. that post about desperate sex huh. that sure is a post. I’m definitely not here to request something with that. something that involves jacob seed. I would NEVER do that I’m a good Christian girl 😌

hey i’m sorry but my breeding kink came through again. but thinking of it, i know you have one too when it comes to jacob so...have fun doe

Warnings: smut. pure smut. breeding and pregnancy.

Don’t like don’t red, don’t come crying into my ask box

Teeth crashing, heavy breathing, clothes falling on the floor. The moment they laid eyes on each other, they knew it would end in this. Mother Nature had her ways of finding the perfect mate for one another, and the two were a match made in heaven. How their gazes connected in the church as she put cuffs on his brother, him secretly wishing he could tie her down like this. Keep her tight and close forever, the smell of her shampoo lingering in his nose as he tried to take everything. Jacob would have to remember it all for later, for his wanking sessions, preparing him for the moment her pussy would finally be around his cock. Pumping and groaning, bucking against his own hand as images of her soft body filled his inner eye. Spread out for him, under his heavy body, full blown lust.

But now it was their reality, in an abandoned bunker, far away from any Resistance, any Cult, just the two, naked, bare, the way they were made by God and War. Thrusting against each other, weak attempts to savour the moment forever. They knew they’d be hated for what they were doing - which turned them on even more.

Her soft and tiny moans drove him crazy, his erection pressing against her stomach as he brought her to the bed in the bunker, the mattress was old and dirty, so nobody would mind the stains of sweat and cum they’d leave for the owners.

She felt around him like a lock around a key, made for one another like nature intended to. Cull the herd, he always said, but to strengthen the herd, one must find their perfect mate and breed, and that was his current state of mind. Mate. Breed. The herd needs more strong offspring. In the end, he was doing it for a good cause, yes?

By the time they were done and spent, Jacob reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a package of cigarettes, a lighter inside. He lit one for himself, one for his new mate. Together they smoked in peace, only interrupted by coughing - his lungs weren’t the best after years of war, terror and PTSD attacks on the streets. But for once, the coughs didn’t bother him. They were coming from a place of safety and security, for a moment the world around them didn’t exist.

Pressing out his cigarette, Jacob sat up, looking down to the woman on the stranger’s bed. Old memories of his wife coming back, how she looked just as beautiful as this little pest of a Deputy. Strengthen the herd, Jacob, and she will stop being a pain in your ass.

“Next week same time?”

“You can bet on it, Seed.”

His plan had success, her telling him about her pregnancy only mere months later. The Resistance fell apart without her, a pregnant woman couldn’t lead a war. She changed sides, now training soldiers with Jacob by her side. Her knowledge of plants and the surrounding turned out to be a huge advantage for the Cult, and soon enough, Hope County was theirs.

Yet, they met for a good old mating ritual every week in the same bunker, the only thing changing was the size of her belly.

#jacob seed x reader #jacob seed #far cry 5 #casino-lights

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misskittysmagicportal · 4 years ago

Text

I’m A Creep

Fandom: The Messenger Jack x Rin Davies

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: suicide discussion, oral sex, penetration, mention of masturbation, angsty whomp because OOOOF is Jack a Whomp!character

Note: The events of this fic contain spoilers for those of you who havent seen The Messenger. It takes place after the end of the movie. Read at your own risk if you haven’t seen it! If you want it’s free on Tubi :)

Present Day:

Jack stood beside Rin in the dead of night watching her sleep for just a moment. Only a moment because she roused the instant she sensed him breathe. Sitting up, she quickly reached inside the nightstand. He knew her routine, Rin was impulsive about making sure her leather motorcycle gloves were on before she let him in.

Jack wordlessly pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his sweatpants and boxers.

Rin lifted her covers and opened her legs to him. Obliging, Jack lowered himself onto her showering her neck with kisses. His tongue and lips trailing down along her collarbone, erection hard against her thigh. A hand found its way under Rin’s t-shirt and over a naked breast where he pinched at a nipple.

“Jack,” she was breathless. “Stop. Don't touch my skin, please.”

Jack pushed himself up by the arms, “How is this enjoyable to you, duck?” A northern term of endearment. “My thighs ah touchin’ you aren't they?” The moonlight caught his eyes as he teased her with the head of his cock. “What about this, inside you?” Suggestively whispered.

Rin moaned but held her cool. “It’s not the same. Like you said, that's inside. It's just my.. skin. From my..” her voice trailed off.

“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckkin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed her. Tongue pushing inside of Rin, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered, just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me”

--------

Several Weeks Before:

Rin sat alone at a center table in the middle of the visitation room. This wasn’t her first rodeo, probably won’t be her last. She flexed her hands outwards the leather of her gloves cracking and flexing in a satisfying manner. No one was going to come and see her. Besides, the solitude allowed her to quietly spy on all the other nutters around the room.

Just to her left Rin noticed a pretty redheaded woman and her son as they sat across from probably the most attractive guy ever in an institution. There was a tenseness to the way he sat, shoulders hunched and hands between his legs. His hair unruly and a blank stare that wasn’t really focusing on- she came to realize- his sister and nephew. Rin knew him from group therapy where he was equally quiet, eyes glassy from a psych med cocktail. The majority of his speaking hours tucked away in that overbearing therapist’s office.

“Jack, will you please just look at me?” his sister, Emma tried her best to reach out to her brother. “I.. I think Martin and I made a mistake.”

Jack only stared straight ahead between Emma and his nephew, Billy. The preteen looked uncomfortable and scared as his mother nudged him softly. “It's ok. Billy tell Uncle Jack.”

“I did, Mom” , his voice quiet. “I'm supposed to say no. That you should get me help before it's too late.” Rin watched as Billy folded his arms and laid his head down. “Only I can't. It's all night and day, Jack. I can't sleep because they don't have you.”

“Best leave him here with me then, Emma.” It was the first time anyone heard Jack speak in weeks. His sister had a posh accent, so Rin was surprised when Yorkshire dripped from his lips. “For good, right?”

“That's not fair. You are sick, Jack. You weren't caring for yourself. You.. you got too involved with that murder. You were hurting yourself,” Emma struggled with tears. “I want to take you home.”

“Oh like I'm some kind of fookin dog? Emma you and Martin made it clear I belong here. She's right, maybe it was all dad. That's traumatic you know.”

“You deserve someplace warm! A home. Please, Jack. I found this in your things.” She slid a newspaper clipping towards her brother. “That's the boy who drowned. Why.. why didn't you tell me?”

“Loads of kids drown in pools,” Jack stated bluntly with a shrug. “Why should your pool be any different?”

“I never said it was our pool.”

“I recognized the address in the article”

“Jack, it's from two years ago.”

“I got lucky. Ah we doon here? I have walls to stare at. Here Billy you can have this back,” from between his knees he produced a glass paperweight with a scorpion inside. “Tell all ya mates Crazy Uncle Jack sends his loov”

Jack tried to stand but Emma grabbed his arm. This was Rin’s cue to swoop in. She swiftly moved from her table to theirs.

“JACKIE!’ I've been looking for you everywhere!” His eyes panicking in her direction. “I'm Wren,” she took her glove off and reached a scarred hand in Emma's direction. “But my brother couldn't say it so you can call me Rin” She smiled brightly.

Emma tentatively shook Rin’s hand, smiling in turn. Rin took a moment as her mind’s eye zoned in on what was inside of Jack’s sister. It was a loneliness, a desperation to take care of her little brother but protect her son from the same fate. But most importantly Rin felt a small tingling of warmth from somewhere deep inside of Emma��s heart. It was white and pure and instantly recognizable as hope. Even though it was tiny it was growing and starting to spread, and Rin knew Emma was eager to share that with her brother.

“Wow,” Rin blurted, “I wish my brother was as invested in me as you are. You’re a good person, Emma. Trust me,” she winked. “Woman’s intuition.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and studied the crazed looking woman standing between her and Jack. The scars on Rin’s hand raised some alarms, but Emma ignored them. She omitted a relief and let go, “Well thank you. Can you talk some sense into my brother?”

Moments later, with the visitors gone, Rin sat down in Emma’s place. “Thank you is a start,” she teased Jack.

He rolled his eyes and slowly turned in her direction to face her dead on. The intensity of his eyes took Rin by surprise. “Thank you,” the sarcasm poured like a waterfall.

Rin took off her other glove. “Now, Mr-”

“Jack is fine.”

“Jack. Tell me,” Rin feigned a German accent, “Und why do zey sink you are crazy.”

He blinked slowly.

“You got sectioned. What bullshit excuse did they force you to believe? Because it seems like Lovely Emma is desperate to get you out, and we know how hard that is.”

Jack took an impossibly deep breath, “Schizo-effective disorder with some dissociation, post traumatic stress disorder, non-suicidal self injury disorder and depression.”

“Fuck me, that's a trail mix of bonkers. Now ask me”

Jack closed his eyes. They were shut for so long that Rin was certain he had fallen asleep having given in to his meds. His hunched, thin body sort of folded a bit in on itself. A moment of possible self-soothing when he started to sway.

“Jack?” Rin's tone fell quietly with concern. She poke his arm carefully avoiding touching the skin. “Darling what cocktail did these quacks put you on.” She was an expert after all these years; if the drugs were working, no way would he be this much of a zombie.

Green blank eyes hidden behind enviable eyelashes attempted to focus “Seroquel. Clozapine?” His words start to slur a bit. “Fine. How fucking barmy are you?”

“Well,” the young woman softened, “I have suicidal ideations with self-injury tendencies myself, severe clinical depression, a bit of the old borderline personality disorder and wait for it..” she practically whispered a few inches from Jack’s face, “total emotional attachment to partners.”

The skin around Jack’s eyes crinkled as he squinted just enough to indicate his hazed brain was trying to process everything Rin just unloaded. His lips parted to speak but he paused resulting in a gobsmacked expression. “You’re barking.”

“Says the sexy scarecrow with journo clippings of dead boys.” Rin pursed her lips and crossed her arms, “Why are you really in here Jack.”

“I’m fucking mad.” It was matter of fact.

“To quote the Cheshire Cat, we’re all mad here, love. Look at me,” she held her hands aloft to display gnarled and prominent scars covering both hands in their entirety. “I developed a gift or two by primary school. See I can touch a person, and I know what they are feeling. Except it.. It goes deeper than that. I can PICTURE their true selves. It’s a bit overstimulating, but no one can lie to me. Not really. Doesn’t do much for my sex life. Or lack of one really. Honestly, you put a cock in your mouth only to find out the guy you’re with is fantasizing about slitting your throat and wanking in your blood.”

Jack shook his head, “Jesus christ.”

“Well yes! My parents were religious zealots, right? They got wind of my gifts. Tried to use me in the church, but I rebelled. Long story short, darling Mumsy and Papa decided if they may be stuck my hands in boiling grease I wouldn’t be able to use it anymore. It’s not in my hands though. It’s in my skin,” Rin smiled almost pleasantly. “Sometimes I get a bit over the edge. I stop shielding myself from the pure air around folks, I suffocate in it. Then,” now she held out her wrists, “I have my little accidents.”

Jack’s mouth hung agape. His brows furrowed in confusion, “You are off you’re fucking nut.”

“That’s all relative. Now, you can tell me why they REALLY sectioned you. What power or ability are they masquerading as mental illness, or I can find out my way.” Rin shrugged.

“Why the fuck do you care? I’m sleeping at night. I have food and a bed and a shower.”

“Und electro-shock zerapy, und coma inducing psychopharmaceuticals, und most importantly you has lost your voice und a chance to harness your ability correctly.” that mock German accent again. “You shouldn’t be here, Jack. Emma certainly doesn’t think so, and neither do I. You’re special. Or that bitch shrink wouldn’t have made you the living dead.”

Jack snorted followed by a rather loud. “Just fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off. FUCK OFF!” he screamed in Rin’s face. Not once did she flinch, arms crossed again in a challenge. Disgusted by her, Jack kept bellowing his words thick with anger and cotton from the meds, “I DON'T BELONG OUT THERE EITHER! I DON'T BELONG IN HERE! I DON’T FUCKING BELONG ANYWHERE. HE’S DEAD. SHE’S DEAD. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF THE CUNTS IS DEAD! DEAD DEAD DYING! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

He shot up out of the chair to leave, but Rin caught his large hand. Skin to skin, hands so small together they barely covered just his one. Instantly her body stiffened as she gasped for air. Tears immediately stung her eyes as she crammed them shut. There in her mind was just a large body of water. Ocean waves crashed overhead as she sank far below the surface. Dark, cold, horrifying that sensation of being drowned. Rin choked on the last bit of oxygen in her lungs and started to suffocate. The hand she held brought her mind’s eye around to opening under the water to see Jack floating near-motionless in front of her. It took all of her strength to push against the tide towards him where she held his face in her hands. Death and decay flashed above them, the dead peering down from boats just waiting for Jack to return to the surface.

Rin strained to convey that tiny bit of hope Emma had passed along to her earlier as she pressed her forehead into Jack’s in the icy deep. There was no reason in particular that she was drawn to him. Not in the hospital or here trying to save him from drowning slowly. Was he attractive, undoubtedly, but that wasn’t all or it. Maybe it was now that she knew he was a messenger, a harbinger of death. That was itself a form of an empathic gift. Or it was just compassion.

Suddenly Jack’s eyes burst open. In that languid way your body moves underwater, he pushed her away. His arms and legs thrashed around in a panic as if he only just realized he was allowing this place to kill him. There was an instant loss, and Rin’s inner self slammed into a brick wall. The physical Jack had severed the connection between her body and his. To resurface that suddenly forced Rin gulping in blessed oxygen that she never really lost. It was an illusion, where the two of them had been. He really had shoved her back though, she realized that now. Storming out of the visitation center, Jack left Rin alone to cry.

--------

Several days later

Rin lounged against the wall outside of Jack’s room with her gloves firmly in place. Patients weren’t SUPPOSED to fraternize outside of the common rooms, but Rin had been here a few times before. She knew which orderlies and nurses to finess, and which to avoid. In this case Jerry was the giant, affable St Bernard of a man that kept watch in this particular hallway.

“Wren back so soon?” he teased. “What are you doing hanging around the human handbook for the recently deceased?”

“Delightful, Jer. How is he? I mean really.” Rin hooked her thumb in the direction of the room.

“Easiest patient I’ve dealt with on account of he rarely speaks, pops his meds and keeps to himself. Gave us a bit of a row when he first got here, but I like the guy. I don’t know what to believe though. His sister’s been sniffing around administratives.” The orderly shrugged his massive shoulders. “Heard you took quite the piss on visitation day.”

“I didn’t take the piss!”

“Did ya do your handsy thing,” Jerry made jazz hands.

Rin’s eyes almost rolled back in her head, but suddenly there was a figure in the doorway which caused her to jump. “How about we don’t talk about the nutter like he isn’t 10 feet away and only 27 years old?” Jack insisted. His arms crossed and shoulders sagged in their usual way.

“Can we talk?”

Before Jack could truly answer, Rin had already pushed past him and sat down on his bed. His mouth hung somewhat agape before he eventually joined her. Jack attempted to sit close, just for some human contact, but the young woman beside him shied away.

“Right,” a retort. “You’ve started being just as bloody fucking annoying as they were.”

Startled, “Who?”

“You know those.. Schizo delusions I’m here for.”

“The dead?”

Jack’s green eyes narrowed and Rin knew there was a sarcastic remark just sitting there waiting to be released. Instead he curled his posture as if he was trying to fold in on himself. Make himself smaller, less noticeable. “Dissociations sparked by my father’s suicide.”

“Psycho babble bullshit jargon. Congratulations, you’ve become a parrot.” Rin waved her hand, “Jack has anyone ever-.” There was a hesitation.

“Has anyone ever what? Go on, enlighten me then”

Rin started stripping her gloves off but thought better of it. A sense of foreboding, of drowning and clutching her chest for hair flashed across her mind. The loneliness emanated from Jack without her touch. That empathic conduction of her skin. Reaching instead to place the soft leather against his cheek, her thumb brushed his bottom lip. Her eyes searched for him in that moment where time stood still before a mouth replaced a thumb.

To not only Rin’s surprise but his own, Jack didn’t recoil. His body relaxed as instinct took hold. There was a fervor in hands that got tangled up in hair. Tongues fought each other as arms made their way around bodies in an embrace. They held one another tight, the desperation apparent.

The spell broke when Jack laid Rin down on the bed and let his warm mouth trail down her neck. He was awkward and hungry like a teenager. He fumbled around her chest to attempt massaging her breast.

A snort came from Rin simply to hide the panic of rushing water when Jack’s lips came into contact with her skin. Maybe hers found it easier to beg off that inner eye from opening, but now she didn’t have a choice. They weren’t as deep with the surface just rippling only a few inches away.

Before she started to lose oxygen again, Rin began to squirm. “ Stop. Please?”

Jack sat up and faced forward as if nothing had transpired. His cheeks flushed and a hand tugged at his tee-shirt embarrassingly then stuffed between his legs. He blinked a few times as he breathing calmed.

“I only came to ask you if anyone had ever shown you affection. Held you. Emma.. Emma” Rin inhaled deeply as she forced Jack to hold her glove hand. “I know she sort of longs to hug you.” Back on his cheek to make him look at her. “Obviously I got my answer,” she laughed.

Jack silently replied by pushing his forehead into Rin's. They laid down again this time with their heads on his pillow legs and arms tangled up in each other. Jack nuzzled the edge of his nose into the skin behind her ear; her breath caught. Then the couple seemingly melted together.

“Jack you seem less-” fingers twisted up in his curls.

“Like a walking coma patient?” hand gripped the thick of her thigh. Then reaching a shelf above Rin Jack seized one of those creepy glass paperweights housing a floating tarantula. Turning it over underneath to show a tiny white envelope. “I started hiding my meds. Pass them along to my sister when she visits.”

Just under the surface of the water, still struggling for air exploded before Rin's eyes. Perhaps she had passed something between Emma and Jack. Was it her own faith that was transmitted to him? That first touch that woke him up after all this time.

The next few weeks became a game of trial and error. Of how little or much Rin and Jack could consume of each other. Kissing was no longer an issue once the meds began to wear off, lips and tongues and mouths. It felt more like standing ankle deep in a bathtub. Warm and comforting; it was Jack that was overpowering.

Eager to make up for a very long very lost amount of time. He stumbled along Rin's body uneasily because of how little clothing she removed at first. Not that he was in a rush to reveal what was underneath his oversized shirt and sweatpants. He wasn’t the one recoiling when the stimulation overwhelmed.

“I'll take off my shirt. Touch me here, but where the fabric of my bra is. Tease the nipple with just your fingertips. No that's.. maybe under? Touch them. Oh God. Now your mouth. Right there. Are you.. you took your shirt off too?” (She marveled at how defined, muscular Jack's body seemed despite his slight stature)

Jack took initiative now and slid his fingers inside of Rin. He pumped them a few times guided by her ``Oh.. maybe you can touch me.. Do you feel.. It’s like a bud or a kernel.. Here let me.. It’s just right.. OH GOD. Right like.. ” And she would ride his hand and fingers that circled that bud.

Rin would cry out in surprise. Her body exploded in ecstasy. They weren't drowning anymore. Just swimming, bobbed under the water and surface. It was the sense-memory of suffocating, coupled with the dazzling pleasure of Jack's warm tongue as it teased her nipples, his strong fingers teasing her clit at the same time. His hot skin meshed with hers washed out by fear. She apologized as they scrambled to arrange themselves.

“Don't think I'm going anywhere for quite some time, my love.” His words changed with the possessive my in lieu of the once meaningless sentiment. He would steal a chaste kiss from Rin whose cheeks flushed to match his own as he made that familiar adjustment between his legs. In the future, Rin would come to him without a bra but reluctant to take her shirt off when Jack kept on never minding.

Jerry became an ally of sorts. He always had been on Rin's side after she read him her second section. It wasn't difficult to get him to believe in Jack's abilities. Staff has whispered down the corridors that Jack had suddenly found himself aware of a suicide attempt. That dead reporter Emma mentioned, his fiancé had taken more pills than Rin ever fathomed any number of her attempts. (She had a flare for dramatics: slit wrists) Jerry mentioned Jack had a tantrum the likes of a toddler screaming the name Sarah whatever over and over, pounding his fists into his head to make whatever haunted him. Sure enough, this Sarah was found nearly having bled out and foaming at the mouth.

“How would he even fucking know, poppet? Not unless Jack really was chatting up her dead fiancé “ As if that was all he needed, Jerry turned his back and caused distractions all the nights the Empath and her Beautiful Broken Man longed to be together.

It was stunning the way Jack learned to manipulate the system. Only Rin, and reluctantly Jerry, knew he pocketed his meds. Safely tucked away in those ugly arachnid globes in the pockets or purse of Billy and Emma. He started talking more in group therapy and far less in private sessions. Engaged in conversations with his sister and nephew, true ones that resulted in a simple smile or a laugh free from a facetious tone. To the staff and doctors those fucking psychopharmeceuticals worked. To Jack’s sister and nephew and whatever Rin was to him, there was a slowly lifting weight making the air around him lighter. Yet Rin kept her hands to herself.

More trial and error. In the midst of fervent kisses, Rin took Jack in her hand. A stroke or two was all she got in before he spasmed and came. The mortification that flashed in his eyes as he curled in a fetal position between her and the wall while she whispered reassurances in his ear. Touching him, caressing him and eventually taking him into her mouth became easier and longer with practice and patience.

They laughed into each other’s mouths before Rin let her tongue trail down over his stomach. Anxiously Jack took off his pants and boxers, lying backwards. He held the back of her head, moaned and twisted as she licked and sucked on him. His hips bucked and thrust upwards.

-------------------

Present Day, Again

“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed Rin. Tongue pushed inside of her, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered, just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me?”

Rin took a moment to think. He wasn’t drowning anymore. She could push that old feeling out of her third eye and bury herself in new ones. She took a hold of her shirt and tossed it on the floor. She took the erection that twiced against her thigh and held it just outside of her pulsating and ready sex. With hands that sunk into her vunerable skin, Jack buried himself inside of her.

That fire from Emma all that time ago poured from Jack’s body into hers. It pushed back the water as he pumped rhythmically into Rin. Building into a frenzy quickly, his pelvis crashed into hers before she could really come around to what was happening. It briefly conquered the fears from before; caused hot tears to spring to her eyes that flowed uncontrolled down her cheeks.

In his fervor, Jack noticed and bent to kiss them away. The gesture she had made that first time, a thumb brushed across her cheek and lower lip as he slowed his pace. Wren,” he took to calling her that tentatively. “What is it?”

Before she could answer, Jack became distracted by something in the corner of the room. Eyes passed between Rin and whatever it was that she couldn’t fathom or see. She took his chin and focused it on her as they crashed together and apart again in another wave of building friction. It was too late though, he had abruptly pulled out and away from her.

“NO! STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE! CAN’T I HAVE ONE MOMENT OF FUCKING HAPPINESS WITHOUT ONE OF YOU LOOMING OVER ME LIKE A FUCKING PERV.” He used fists to beat out a rhythm on his temples as he scurried to the corner of his bed with knees up to his chest.

In the frenzy, Rin had been knocked to the floor. Jerry had rushed in, he was never too far away just in case. In a whirlwind, he picked Rin up with one hand and with the other attempted to intervene between Jack's fists and his head. What could either of them do? If attention was drawn to the room, surely the doctors would realize Jack had gone unmedicated for weeks. Jerry’s eyes wide gestured towards Rin’s hands. She shook her head, but Jack carried on.

“Go on Jenny Wren, there has to be something your hands can do. I’ll lose my job and you’ll be separated. They’ll put him back in the Zoo.” He was already yanking her arms forward and trying to remove her gloves before she could consent.

Rin knew The Zoo. It being rooms that could be monitored with two way mirrors. You got a bed and a blanket. They controlled when the lights came on and when they turned them off. No privilege, no real structure. They fed you, bathed you, and gave you “playtime” when they said. No matter how you suffered from mental illness no one deserved that. She would never forgive herself.

“JERRY LET ME DO IT MYSELF!” Rin bellowed if only to out yell Jack and his fit. “Make her go away! LEAVE ME ALONE” he cried underneath her. Her hands free, she flexed them a few times before joining Jack on the bed. She clutched his forearms and struggled to get a grip enough to pull them away from self-harm. “JACK! YOU HAVE GOT TO FUCKING STOP, MY DARLING.” She slid her hands over his temples before he could punch them anymore. She used the heels of her palms and pressed.

It was immediate, the way her mind opened to him. This time he was floating along the tide in a boat surrounded by what Rin could only guess were dead people. They grabbed and tugged on Jack’s clothes. Rin sat on the other side from him between two oars; she used one to swat at the ghosts who tried to pull them back in. But there, walking along the surface, was a beautiful young woman. Blonde hair flowed in waves down her back. Sarah.

“You said we would be together, Jack.” She was angry. “That’s what you told him when he warned you I overdosed. I survived that attempt, but not the second one. Where is he Jack? Why isn’t he here waiting for me?”

Jack stood up and the boat began to dangerously rock. Rin took his hand and he squeezed it in return. He bellowed at the dead woman, “YOU SURVIVED AND HE MOVED ON. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU BEING FUCKING STUPID, SARAH. WHAT I TOLD YOU WAS MEANT TO EASE YOUR GUILT. HE LOVED YOU. YOU WERE SO LOVED. HE DIDN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR MISTAKES. YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME ALONE. ALL OF YOU. I’M FUCKING DONE. MOVE ON. GO SOMEWHERE ELSE. I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE OF MY KIND. AND FUCK OFF BILLY TOO, MATE.”

“Jack?” Rin spoke softly. The hands gripped her tight in place of him. They started to pull her in with him because he was useless now. He stood up to them for possibly the first time in twenty years. They would take her instead then.

Jack seized Rin’s body before she could go over in his place. He held her fast and tight and shielded her from them. “NO. You don’t fucking get ANYONE I love. Not Billy. Not Emma. Not Martin. No Wren or Rin. AND YOU DON’T FUCKING GET ME ANYMORE.” He took the oar up in his free hand and swung it around the bodies in the water. He jabbed it forward like a sword at Sarah still pacing the side of the boat. “GO, SARAH. HE’S WAITING FOR YOU. I PROMISE THIS TIME” Jack insisted and pleaded.

Then it was so silent it deafened both Jack and Rin as they clung to one another in the boat. In a flash and explosion, they separated and landed back on the bed in the room in an institution. Jerry panted and pawed at the two of them dazed and uncertain. Jack blinked a handful of times with no recollection of what just took place in his head and Rin’s. They never knew or remembered Rin had learned.

Jack scoured the room for any sign of Sarah or anyone else. He rubbed his eyes a few times then sighed heavily. “I.. I want to go back to my room now.” It was matter of fact.

Jerry nodded and helped him back into his clothes. Jack stumbled a bit but managed to kiss Rin sweetly before being led away and down the hall. Rin knew Jerry would probably give him something to help him sleep at least for the night and probably into tomorrow. She was afraid Jack had woken up a second time. Not just from his nightmare of the last twenty years, but whatever happened between them. It was a price she had to pay sometimes when she helped. There was something Rin longed to say earlier. What made her cry was an ember somewhere deep inside of Jack that he had never experienced before. For the first time in his life, he had hope.

#robert sheehan #jack #the messenger #robert sheehan character fic #jack x rin davies

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countessofbiscuit · 4 years ago

Text

Suppressive Fire

(Sev/Scorch, E, 3.9k words)

Two bros, chillin' on a top bunk no feet apart 'cause they're vode. . . .

Fleet Support, Ord Mantell, barrack block 7 Alpha, six standard weeks after Geonosis

She’d be built like a tank. That was Requirement the First.

She’d be humanoid, or near enough. Her arms would number ... four. Yes, four arms, each of them doing something clever. Two to open my ass, two to pinch my nipples, her long tongue going to crazy town on my cock, burning off my pubes with her caustic breath—

Sergeant Draka. The near-human-tank was Sergeant Draka, sure as day.

Scorch grabbed this realization with one firm hand and tugged.

Her species was shab-if-I-know: some unhappy hybrid who’d washed up on the far edge of the Outer Rim and been scraped into one of those fringe clans that never removed their helmets. Her folks developed a reputation for ritualized kidnapping that didn’t sit right with Jango. He’d ripped Draka’s helmet off in a duel, apparently, and spending ten years training the spawn of her enemy was the price she’d agreed to pay to regain her honor. All those kids and nowhere to run: a bitter form of torture for both parties. Her trainees were an insular, silent bunch with a tendency to tactically acquire your shit when you weren’t looking, but they got the job done.

Scorch had first seen Draka at a parade for the prime minister when he was three. He’d never forgotten it: she had fangs and yellow eyes and ears that twitched at the tips like they were catching your current of fear. No wonder they’d encouraged her to keep a lid on.

Then Scorch was six and change and he’d stumbled upon her in a hallway. She’d had a cadet upside down, smoking him good for something. “What are you gawping at, Six-Two?” she’d snarled, her generous chest heaving, three spare arms tensing in his direction. “Shift it. Unless you want your balls torn off next.”

Scorch had been a little scared and a lot turned on.

Sergeant Vau didn’t have to use many words to put the fear of Fett under your skin. He was a conservative man. Sergeant Draka regarded a shebs-chewing as the highest form of oratory and her calling in life. Whenever Scorch stood downwind of her in the combat hall, he could feel his eyebrows being singed off a second time.

Sweating a little, Scorch’s core tensed as this fantasy tightened vividly in his holographic mind.

She puts two hands around my cock, one hand on my nipple, one hand clawing under my balls—

Scorch flipped her on her back.

She uses all four arms to spread her trunky legs, hairy as a man’s, wide in invitation—

“Knock it off,” barked Sev.

She was gone. In her place was the knowledge that his brother was clued in to what Scorch was doing on the bottom bunk and determined to make it stop.

But the pressure under Scorch’s balls held firm and his erection stood fast. Sev was an oaf with shit timing. There was a reason they gave Scorch the fiddly wires and det controls. He stretched his fingers and reset his grip. “Not happening, vod.”

“Do you have to be so loud about it?”

“Loud?” Had he said something? Lost control of his breathing?

“Yes. Loud. Like you’re slugging a hamm sandwich.”

Scorch frowned. “Have you ever had a hamm sandwich?”

“I don’t want one now.”

There was some improvement to technique needed there: Scorch was always open to feedback—to the challenge of reducing the marginal noise of a wank. “You embarrassed?” he found himself asking, strokes resuming. Less hamm-fistedly. His orgasm had slumped a little and he'd have to tenderly call it back up.

“I’m embarrassed for you,” Sev said.

Scorch closed his eyes, picturing something ...

Sergeant Draka was back, and now she was holding him and Sev upside down. The arrival of RC-1207 into the sim wasn’t throwing Scorch off. In fact, it was encouraging. Exciting. He even leaked a little at the idea. What was a commando without his squad? Chafed, apparently. He should’ve brought Sev into the game two nights ago, after they’d been rudely pulled from stasis in preparation for some op known only to Boss.

Scorch didn’t remember decant. But Sergeant Vau, who'd wasted no time rocking up to his watery exile when Jango had put out the word, said they’d been ugly, annoyed, and ornery. The nursery techs had given them mock, miniature Deeces to keep their fussy hands and mouths occupied.

Coming out of stasis had to be worse—they were issued Deeces again, but they weren’t left alone to soothe themselves to sleep with weapons. Now their waking moments belonged entirely to some Jedi named Zey. They’d been forced to run a gamut of proprioception and endurance tests, cleaned their spanking new Katarn and cleaned it once more for luck on Boss’s orders, and told to familiarize themselves with their upgraded HUD systems.

Scorch had and he'd found it wanting: no pre-loaded heavy-isotope bangers or high-definition tailhead reference holos. Did he have to do everything himself in this shabla army?

After submitting to all this with only mild complaint—Fixer had sworn in full sentences—the op order was still not forthcoming. Classic hurry up and fekkin' wait. Wait for instructions they didn’t even need. Coordinates, intel support, and a broad objective would have sufficed for a commando tasking: top brass still had a lot to learn. It had left Delta with more downtime than they liked and had left Scorch wanting nothing more than to take care of that perennial need in his groin. And each time, he had to get a little more creative.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout, Sev?” he teased, poking the boundaries of this sim. Longnecks hated that: it’s why they let the commandos have off-world field trips to forsaken places where they couldn’t peel back the corners without dying. “Something profane? Something a little non-regulation?”

“The shab is wrong with you.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking ... ” The opportunity for candor—without Fixer on the opposite bunk telling him to pipe down or Boss around to make it happen—was interesting. And as far as Scorch knew, this slap-dash prefab of a support base didn’t have surveillance bugs like their dorms on Kamino. The range and assault course here weren't even specced for lasers; they had to waste live rounds on discs and be honest about getting locked onto. Not likely.

With nothing left to hide, Scorch rolled away from the wall and relaxed onto his back, his cock stiff and spry. He pulled his hood up and over his wet glans and back down again, as far as he could take it, skin smarting nicely at the stretch. He went on, “I’m thinking about Sergeant Draka.”

“Stop,” Sev said.

“Her thick thighs in my face—”

“Stop.”

Scorch spat in his hand and throttled his shaft. “Biting our balls … ” Okay, maybe that was a little weird. But if Fixer’s quick work of the base pyrowall in the anxious hours before chill-down was anything to go by, weird could be good. Better than good.

“Don’t make me come down there,” Sev growled. Not unlike Sergeant Draka, actually.

Scorch couldn’t help himself. “Oh yeah, do come down here ... ” He bucked into his fist, as if to jerk out that ball of bliss from behind his sack. The mass of him tensed rigid under one fixed goal. His fumbled around for something in the sheets with his free hand. “Come down her thick legs ... ”

If anything could singe Draka’s hairs, it’d be Sev’s spunk. Scorch loved a blast, but Sev would sprinkle baradium on his Oaties every morning if he could. Sev would spill like a gutted aiwha, animalistic and uncontrolled, and Draka would hiss and gnash her teeth and—

And suddenly, Scorch was over the line. His base clenched hard, choking his groan of release. He convulsed and came thickly into one of yesterday’s socks.

“Shab,” he croaked, his vision returning, his limbs pooling with pituitary pleasure. “Blew up real good.”

Somewhere above him, Sev huffed. “Three nights in a row. You’re disgusting—you know that, right?”

“Stasis, my shebs. I’ve never had such busy balls in my short life.” Scorch twisted languidly to the edge of the mattress and sat up, squeezing his cock clean. “Cooking blanks like they might get lucky.” The knotted sock got buried in tomorrow’s laundry and Scorch borrowed some of Boss’s wet wipes for the cleanup. Sarge wouldn’t miss them.

“The rest of us are fine,” Sev countered.

Scorch glanced at Sev over his shoulder. His brother looked like a corpse who’d taken up reading in the afterlife. Base bunks weren’t much cosier than a stasis pod, but something else was keeping Sev’s spine stiff. Something that might affect squad performance if it wasn’t addressed: a bad case of self-inflicted blue balls.

Scorch pulled up his pants and ambled over. “You know ... you say that. But this says something else.” He grabbed Sev’s perky junk.

Happily for his brother, Scorch’s grip was light. So when Sev knocked Scorch backwards at the throat, he didn’t take Sev’s sack with him. A scuffle ensued, half-hearted on Scorch’s side, though Sev was obviously in one of his fuck-off moods. He always was crankiest after a nap; it’d take him days to shake off stasis. And he was still pissed about Procurement’s theft of his helmet, with its authentic Gamma blood enshrined in red paint. That di’kutla squad had been shipped to Triple Zero, and until Sev butted heads with them again, he’d be as scratchy as a flea-bitten akk.

Using the shallow bunkrail, Scorch flung himself up and collapsed onto his brother, asking the cantilevered cot to bear the weight of two commandos. He was a trusting soul. The tussle continued until Scorch allowed Sev to secure a headlock, rather than drag them both onto the floor. They’d just gotten out of one unnatural bath and he didn’t fancy a dunk in bacta.

Scorch tapped Sev’s thigh. “Alright, alright,” he said hoarsely. Sev’s hold loosened a fraction and Scorch scooted out from it. Sitting up, he grabbed the holozine that had gotten pinned against the wall: some monthly edition of erudition that called itself Lasers & Blasters. “Didn’t know you could, Oh-Seven.”

Sev snatched the ‘zine to stuff it under his pillow. “It’s above your cadet-grade.”

“I think everyone knows you’re the knuckle-dragger around here, not me.”

“I think everyone knows I’m the hero of Geonosis, Killer of Sun Fac.”

Scorch made a theatrical noise that sounded like a broken, wet bes’bev. “Woo-hoo! You hit the broad side of a bantha!”

Now Sev really tried to catapult him onto the floor. But Scorch’s close-combat situational awareness noticed that his brother’s cockstand was holding strong.

“Sev,” he said, panting a little when they’d reached another stalemate, “the only people who know Sun Fac’s name are us, some spooks, and that random forward air controller.”

“Shove off.” Sev kicked him with his boot. He wore them to bed like an animal.

Scorch shook his head. “Not until you take care of yourself.”

“You have some shabla nerve, vod.”

“Rule 45: there should be no happier union than that between a commando and his weapon. But you’ve neglected yours.” He cast a judgemental eye at Sev’s tented pants. They’d been sleeping, shooting, and shitting cheek-by-jowl for their entire lives: Scorch didn’t know why one more bodily function would be that much worse. In that moment, he had more sympathy for his brother’s dick than his brother’s karked-up dignity. Or his own.

He glanced at the chrono. Boss and Fixer still had half an hour at the range and they’d probably hit the mess on the way back. Time enough for a little more equipment maintenance; Scorch believed he was being supremely generous offering what remained of his. He flopped over into a plank above his brother, who was still lying deathly prone. “If you’re not gonna help yourself ...”

“What?” Sev sneered. “You’ll do the honors?”

“Maybe I will. I am better than you, after all,” Scorch grinned. Suddenly, he sensed a game that he wanted to win. They were all like that. Competitive. Not so much against each other, but with each other. Getting screwy Sev off would be the ultimate victory: no one would lose and everyone would leave happy.

“You can’t.” Sev’s disinterest was as threadbare as his pillowcase.

“Alright, vod. I’ll take that bet.” Scorch dug the heel of his hand into his brother’s persistent erection. Sev’s eyelids fluttered. No greater tell in the book. “I bet I can get you off before Boss and Fixer get back. Just this once.”

Sev circled his hands around Scorch’s throat, hissing through perfect teeth bared tight, “You—can’t—Sergeant—Vau—would—”

Scorch scoffed. “You see Sarge here? He’s fucked off to his castle with his kaminii retirement fund.”

Vau had never promised he’d be there on the other side, but ... did he know they’d done a good job? That they’d been singled out for the assassination of the bugs’ chief lieutenant? That they’d survived—no, that they'd excelled, when hundreds of other squads hadn’t? Did he even care? Scorch had to wonder.

He shoved those thoughts aside with conscious effort; they wouldn’t do him any good. Better that Vau wasn't here anyway: he would sniff mightily at this interpretation of no brother left behind. “Hells, he’s probably rubbing one out to a portrait of the dead missus right now,” Scorch continued.

Sev’s grip tightened for their sergeant’s honor. “He wouldn’t—”

“He would. Stars love the old chakaar, Sev, but he’s only flesh and blood.” Actually, that’s all Vau was: cragged skin and blue blood twisted ‘round a frame that seemed to boast a few more bones than average. There must have been a heart in there, too—see: Mird—but Delta had spent their entire cadethood seeking it out to little good. Especially Sev, though he’d slot you for saying so.

Oh, Sev’ika: flesh and blood, plus a lot of bile and bad humor. He stank out the backend when he’d scarfed down too many ration packs, but what would splatter out the front? Scorch was beyond curious now, as he palmed his brother’s package through his clothes.

Sev’s hands held firm, but it was half-hearted, his thumbs only tickling his brother’s trachea. His nostrils flared. He was afraid. No, even better—he was desperate.

It was all the vindication Scorch needed. “That’s right—breathe. Relax. Six-Two’s got you.” He tugged Sev’s fatigues down, hitching the elasticene band behind his balls. Sev grimaced. Yeah, it might not be comfortable yet, but just wait; a little pressure there goes a long way.

“That hurts,” growled Sev.

“Gonna hand me the game?” If Sev had lost sight of his mission objective, he really was gummed up. “Jerking off through a fly feels like doing it in formation,” Scorch said.

Sev turned his head to the wall. If he’d done it at all, that was clearly how.

Scorch took his theoretically-identical brother in hand and felt the heft and heat of a dick that was still an inch left of familiar, however many times he'd seen it. Sev was throbbing. His hands fell away, as deliberately limp as the rest of him, like he was trying to absent himself from his body.

“So ... Sergeant Draka—” Scorch began, realizing he’d just been staring at his brother’s kad for longer than was right. He mentally constructed the fantasy again, deliberately this time, while he warmed up to the idea of working someone else’s shaft. Sev’s shaft. He imagined what Sev might like to hear, because Scorch sure as shab wasn’t keen on hardening up between his brother’s legs himself. That would just be strange. “She’s got you under two hands and a squawking bug under the other, honkin' great tits ready to smother the both of you ...”

Up until he’d found his brother’s cock in his hand, Scorch had fancied himself an honest commando. He really did. Then he had to close the dissonance between his not-insignificant-interest in Sev’s pink tip and, well, Sev: that awkward grump-a-lump who couldn’t look at a sapient or sentient, droid or organic, without scaring them away.

Scorch did it by telling himself this was just his own his cock in a mirror. A learning experience, if nothing else. And his tongue loosened to remember the bet. He began rubbing with intent. “She snaps its neck. Crunch. And isn’t that just your favoritest sound, Sev, ol’ boy?”

“Not her,” Sev said hoarsely.

Manda, he really was giving this to Scorch in the bag. “Who?”

“—don’t know—I don’t shabla know.”

“Easy, vod. You got a lifetime to find out. Well, half of one.”

“Shut. Up.”

Scorch changed the program and flicked a thumbnail right under Sev’s hood. Scratched out whatever dream Sev had building behind his scrunched eyes. It was irrelevant, whatever cleaned the pipes. If his brother didn’t want to say, who was Scorch to ask? The silky give of his hard-on and his nasally gasps vouched that Sev was having an a-okay time. Scorch wouldn’t have a hand, otherwise.

Sev bubbled from his tip. Scorch felt himself flush, but he was more intrigued than anything. It really was like watching a holo of himself. Obviously, Scorch was more handsome, mostly because he wasn’t a fucking psycho ... but a cock was a cock. He lengthened his movement with the slick aid of precome, fisting all the way down to Sev’s slightly lighter curls.

Suddenly, Sev’s fingers wrapped around his. For an alarming half-second, Scorch feared his wrist was about to be snapped. Goodbye dominant hand and superhuman reaction times.

But Sev just held on, eyes pinched shut, arm as unyielding as a barrel.

The situation became more straightforward. Emboldened by the team effort, Scorch stroked faster. Harder. He read the lines in Sev’s fierce face like a manual for a weapon he’d been handed five years ago. A clone lifetime. A batcher’s intuition. He shucked Sev’s sheath down as hard as he could. Twisted his wrist at the top further than Sev’s delicate skin wanted to go. Scorch figured his brother liked the bite of pain. “You feelin’ the heat? You gonna spill all over my fingers, Sev’ika?” he teased.

Sev heaved like he might throw up, and he coughed out only two words. “Do. Not.”

Yeah, he hates that kind of chummy osik and yakking. It was almost sad how much Sev knew what he didn’t want, but couldn’t voice what he did. Even Fixer grunted in approval when something wriggled across the ‘pad’s screen; at least he had some idea what kind of parts he fancied. It was a very broad pool.

Sev just looked embarrassed to be asked.

“Someone’s gonna love your shit, Sev,” Scorch encouraged, coming at it again from a different vector. If he didn’t show his wacky brother some love, who would?

Vau hadn’t been there to bestow that curt nod. They didn’t want to be spoiled. Scorch and his brothers weren’t Skirata’s pups: they’d survived Geonosis because they weren’t. But ... Delta was here and Theta wasn’t and Vau had no karkin’ clue what a close-run thing it’d been. Didn’t know how the knife-edge of his training had probably made all the difference and how chuffed they all were about it.

Or how Sev had made that one-in-a-million shot to Sun Fac’s fighter with half his visor splattered in bug spray. Scorch would remember that for the rest of his short life: angry tendrils of smoke rising behind Sev as he turned contemptuously away from his kill, his helmet gooey with Geonosian.

There were brothers, and there were your brothers: the ones who’d made you better just by being there beside you. Sev was one of those.

Scorch didn’t have to improv osik, now. The words came as easy as his muscle memory as he pistoned his palm along Sev’s angry cock. “Fuckin’ proud of you, Sev: bane of bugs and sniper extraordinaire. Wish Vau could’ve seen it, I really do. I’ll have CLONINT’s guts for rappelling lines for wiping Boss’s cache.”

Sev’s free hand had bunched into the sheet, his knuckles whitening. He stilled suddenly, tense as the second before the opening salvo. Here it comes.

“Ooh, so that’s how Sev breaks. Result!” Scorch had imagined Sev’s orgasm would be like squeezing blood from a stone. Not at all: it came as surely and naturally as his own. Scorch watched intently. Who knew their balls became one in the moment of triumph like that? As Sev’s practically disappeared into his taut body, Scorch had to think on his feet to save his brother’s freshly-laundered fatigues—or, on his knees and elbows, as the case was.

Thunking his other arm across his face, Sev lost the bet with a violent shudder—and without a sound, probably so he couldn’t say he’d enjoyed it. He squirted fully but cleanly onto the open spread of the ‘zine, thanks to Scorch’s management and direction. A long, messy line of cloudy white right across the cross-sectioned barrel of a Magna-Caster-100. Thank fuck for flimsi.

Shaking off Sev's hand, Scorch dropped the wilting cock. It was not attractive, and he prayed the ladies wouldn't think the same, warring with himself about whether he could succumb to the mortification of going limp in someone’s mouth. Maybe it was better to pull out and stripe them? It merited further research on Fixer’s ‘pad, just in case.

“Target softened. Should make things easier for you. Hope you took notes,” Scorch said, oddly transfixed by the description of the ‘Caster’s invisible quarrels he’d spotted on the page. He was growing itchy for a time-sensitive rummage—Scorch would wager his lower left nut that Delta could now go toe-to-toe with any of Draka’s squads for acquisition. With any luck, this mysterious upcoming op would net them some exotic toys.

He shifted his weight, feeling the need to move before that idea made him stiff again and everyone got the wrong impression.

“‘m not soft, di’kut,” Sev mumbled from underneath his arm.

Scorch patted his thigh. “Sure you’re not.”

“Getting soft will get us popped.”

Scorch was halfway off the bunk, but he stopped to squeeze Sev’s fucked-up head. “Hey, ner vod. Look at me—look at me,” he demanded. Sev let his arm fall behind his curls but he kept his gaze elsewhere. “No need to quote Sarge to me. Or go grey over stupid stuff like him.”

Stuff like distraction—a dirty word in Vau’s lexicon. What did they have to get distracted by, anyhow? Grainy holovids? They had enough room in their over-engineered skulls for a few of those, and if they ever got to touch the real thing, Scorch figured they wouldn’t lose their heads. Right? Civvies were so unexceptional, after all. Probably couldn’t tell a maranium blast from a benign xenon light sculpture. Brothers, especially your fellow commandos, were the only company worth keeping—even Vau said so, and Skirata had said Vau had wined and dined New Mando aristos and had bedded a fekkin’ princess in a past life.

Eventually, Sev’s sour mug puckered in something like thought. “If you fucked up my range scores, I’m going to piss in your pack.”

Scorch laughed, dumping his feet onto the floor and wandering in the direction of Boss’s ration bars. Mess was a whole two hours away and Scorch had a month’s eating to make up for. “Sev’ika, no one could fuck up your range scores. You just pregamed with Lasers & Blasters.”

The ‘zine smacked the back of Scorch’s head, wet side flat.

Yeah, we're still good, Scorch thought, as he finally manhandled his stroppy brother onto the floor. And we always will be.

(also on Ao3)

#republic commando #delta squad #repcomm #sev #scorch #clonecest #biscuit fic

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cancellablex · 4 years ago

Note

prompt: declaration of love

I am sorry it took forever! This is pure apology fluff (because of my dreamsharing fic mostly) with mild horniness for everyone! Thank you for your prompt <3

find it on AO3 | prompt me! (but please know it might take a while)

Canter (M rated)

When he wakes up, the world is quiet and the day is sunny.

It's a Tuesday after a bank holiday. The dole came early. Paul and Mam are off in Ireland.

Liam is still sleeping next to him, silent except for the huffing little breaths that he can feel as they ghost over his shoulder. Lying on his stomach. Hoarding the covers. His eyes drifting under his eyelids as he dreams.

They pushed the beds together. Normally, they make do. They'll cuddle up in Noel's tiny single bed until Noel is too cramped and he sends Liam back to his own bed. But they got time, this time. And Noel should feel trapped between Liam and the wall with no escape except across the rest of Liam's bed, but he doesn't.

Normally, he'd have a headache. When they wake up like this, one or the other drank far more than he should the night before, if just so nobody asks why they're leaving together. But they didn't have to, last night, calling it an early night and still pretending to be far more pissed than they were so they could walk home with Noel's arm around Liam's shoulders.

Last night, they didn't have to be so quiet. The walls are thin enough for it to be a problem when they're not alone, but not too thin to give them privacy from neighbors. Liam got to say his name when he touched him just right. He got to hear him say it.

Normally, they take turns. On the plausible deniability of what they do, of how much they want it, and what they're actually doing. They wank off together or one blows the other, or one just lies there while the other fucks between his thighs. They pretend they don't notice, or that it's practical, or that it's not even sex. Last night, they didn't have to.

They left a light on while they kissed, Noel sitting with his back against the wall and Liam straddling him, kissing all over his face and neck while his own shirt lay discarded near the window. Noel could see the fuzzy hairs down his brother's neck and shoulder. He could see the freckles that were yet to form.

They came face to face, rubbing against each other, hands roaming, lips parting in gasps and kisses. Liam was holding Noel's face and smiling at him when Noel came, covering his belly and breathing him in.

He can feel his cock, hard against his own thigh, and it almost feels as though he wished Liam awake and got what he wanted.

Liam opens his eyes, the blue tenderness that has no business living in a counciil estate boy always ready for a fight welcoming him in.

Hey, he says with a gentle smile, and Noel can only smile back.

Liam rolls over on his back, and within a second Noel is on top of him and he can't believe how right it feels.

I love you, he whispers against his brother's forehead.

I love you, he sighs into his brother's mouth.

I'm in love with you, he kisses onto his chest, above his heart.

And Liam drinks in the words, says I love you too with his fingers as they trail through Noel's hair and down his back. He says it with his eyes as he follows Noel's who is kissing down his chest, towards his crotch. He says it with words, when Noel takes him into his mouth.

Hours later, once they've washed and moved Liam's bed back to its original position, while they eat Pot Noodles and watch TV as they wait for their brother and mam to return, worry grips behind Noel's heart, because what if, and what now, and they're two men (boys?), and they're broke, and they're brothers.

There are no love stories about people like them.

Liam just looks at him, then, like he knows what he's thinking. Like he can read his mind and he can see the future.

"We got time," he says.

"We'll find a way," he adds.

And then, he smiles like the fucking sun.

And Noel believes him.

#fic

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gascon-en-exil · 4 years ago

Text

But What If You Want to Come Out on Vers Bottom?: A “Coming Out on Top” Review (Part 2)

Part 1

The main substance of Coming Out on Top - and around 80% of its wank material - lies in its main story love interests, so each of them deserves a dedicated section for review and...erotic evaluation, if you will. It would be much too cluttered to try to cover all six in one post however, so this one will only include the first three with Part 3 to follow with the remainder. Note that I’ll be doing these in alphabetical order, except for the sixth who was added in an update and whose route comes with some mechanical differences that warrant leaving him for last. I wouldn’t want to seem biased, would I? But I’ll be ranking them from most to least favorite at the end anyway.

Also, if anyone is wondering why most of my screenshots are from dialogue scenes rather than CGs, it’s because there are remarkably few CGs in this game that are both interesting enough to include in a review and tame enough for Tumblr’s censorship standards.

Alex: Mark Makes the Grade (With His Ass)

And how fitting it is that I get to start with Alex, fresh off over a year of involvement in the fandom of Fire Emblem: Three Houses and all its exaggerated pearl-clutching over that game’s teacher/student relationships. That’s exactly what Alex’s romance with Mark is, begun under more innocuous circumstances wherein Alex judges Mark’s alcohol preferences (the uncultured barbarian favors whiskey, and has nothing to say if you have Mark order a glass of presumably passable cabernet) but then progressing rapidly to hot for teacher territory once Mark discovers that Alex is his anatomy professor. As expected a handful of jokes - and one sex scene, kind of - hinge upon Alex’s field of expertise, but compared to the other routes of CooT this one is remarkably tame. It’s the only one in which it’s impossible to have sex with the love interest during the game and still get his ending, and the story requires the player to thread a fine line between expressing attraction to the man and respecting his professional boundaries. Alex is nothing if not ethical, almost to a fault, and the game also doesn’t allow you to lose sight of how strange his connection with Mark is...allegedly, anyway. I personally don’t see much issue with it, when Mark is of age (this isn’t even the largest age gap of the main love interests) and about to graduate. Eh, I’ll chalk it up to a cultural difference and move on.

The plot of the route also pivots around the potential scandal to be found in some hot one-on-one anatomy lessons, as Mark finds himself embroiled in the cutthroat world of tenured professorships and overworked postgraduate toadies moonlighting as paparazzi. I guess I lucked out in my much more reasonable graduate advisors, but I think I would have taken well to snooping around in men’s locker rooms looking for hot gay action/blackmail material. With all that going on it’s little wonder that there’s no real sex to be had on the full route, and that the one potential steamy encounter Mark can have with Alex in the professor’s office swiftly ends the romance then and there. I suppose it’s worth noting that Alex is also the only primary love interest who will never bottom for Mark in any encounter the player gets to see, so props if you’re looking for a total top. He’ll give head though, so that’s nice.

That said however, I can’t help but feel as though CooT wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to the teacher/student fucking. Amidst everyone being reasonable and ethical about the situation Mark can have a dream in which Alex fingers him and gives him a prostate orgasm as a live demonstration during a lecture - unquestionably hitting some of those teacher crush buttons even as it comes with the easy out of being a dream sequence. I’ve also seen reactions to this route labeling it as an example of the type of lover/beloved relationship found in ancient Greek pederasty, in that Alex is lowkey masc4masc and that he and Mark bond over the ancient and manly sport of, er, racquetball (I don’t know, just go with it). You also have to keep Mark’s grades up to get Alex’s full ending, which is both entirely logical - Mark is trying to date his professor after all, even if he doesn’t fully get there until the semester is over and he’s ready to walk the stage - and an extension of the idealized pederastic relationship as an educational one for the beloved younger man. If you’re into that kind of thing, Alex’s route is among the better options in this game to find it.

There’s also this obscure random line, which triggers an unusual extra CG added in an update that might be pet play? It’s honestly hard to tell - and I say that as someone who likes pet play. Something you may notice in my review is that, while the five romances included in the game on initial release are all fairly mundane, the writers clearly felt more free to get weird in the later additions.

Brad: Frat Boys Gone Wild Parts 2, 5, and 7

Do you like beefy jocks, and huge dicks, and harsh but realistic indictments of the unequal attention lavished upon athletics departments at most American universities? One of these things is not like the others, but thankfully the route knows where to place most of its priorities. This is the story that puts Mark to work in his job as a writing tutor, tasking him with saving a hunky frat boy from failing his composition class and losing his scholarship in the process. Much unlike my own time as an undergraduate writing tutor however Mark is required to make house calls, setting him on a collision course for Brad’s burgeoning homosexuality and almost getting his ass kicked by the other equally hunky - but tragically straight - members of the frat. Brad is indeed the only one of Mark’s love interests who struggles to any degree with his sexuality, but it’s a muted part of this storyline and only really comes up in one scene involving Brad’s overbearing older brother. Despite some heavier moments here and there CooT is still a lighthearted dating sim at its core, so don’t expect too much in the way of angst even for a character who under more realistic circumstances would likely have to keep his inclinations on the DL.

Where there is plenty of intensity though is in those tutoring sessions, because, well -

- Mark ends up with a serious case of blue balls from all the UST and frequent teasing of Brad’s behemoth cock. Disclaimer: despite years of professional phallus measurements, this reviewer is unable to determine if Brad’s endowment is measurably more impressive than those of the other love interests based on his CGs alone; all pronouncements to this effect may thus be taken as the hyperbole of a horny size queen.

An even bigger source of tension in this route is the cheating angle: during their first meeting Brad will attempt to pressure Mark into writing his paper for him, remarking that American football players at universities get this kind of preferential treatment all the time and that their grades are basically irrelevant. Mark can actually take him up on this offer, and end up quite a bit richer for it via a little bribery (a nice perk if you’re angling for Ian’s friendship ending). Doing so will make it impossible to obtain Brad’s good ending but will instead lead to an alternate storyline with its own set of CGs, culminating in some saucily unethical fellatio as Mark proves to Brad that he can provide just as many perks as the rival female tutor who’s been capturing the jock’s attention with blowjobs and amateur porn. Incidentally, while it very quickly ends the route I like that Mark has a dialogue option to offer those exact services to Brad in front of the other tutor. It’s almost as funny as the earlier option about rimjobs that also ends the route but results in a dream CG of the straight frat guys having their way with Mark. That’s like wish fulfillment Inception, or something.

But no, to finish this route properly you have to keep both Mark and Brad honest, and convince Brad to write his own essay with Mark’s help...and provide genuinely good help, so I hope you know the basics of how to structure an academic essay just kidding you can save scum through that stuff. Many heartwarming life lessons are learned through all-nighters, ruminations on long-term career prospects, and mutual masturbation, until at last the two of them succeed and celebrate their victory with full penetration. How exactly you prefer the penetration to go down isn’t the most intuitive set of dialogue options in the world, but bear in mind that on initial release the only possibility was Brad splitting Mark open with that ginger club swinging between his legs. As I brought up in Alex’s section, the later additions usually get rather freakier. In this case that means an extended dream sequence with football role play (which is a thing that exists, I guess?) followed by some actual sex, with Brad bottoming in both scenes and much loving detail lavished upon his meaty ass. It’s...clever, I suppose, but I think I prefer the original version. Maybe that’s just because I always thought American football uniforms looked ridiculous; where’s the sex appeal to be found with those ridiculous shoulder pads?

Ian: Oh My God They Were Roommates

Even years later I still don’t know for certain whether including Ian so casually with the other love interests counts as a minor spoiler. He’s introduced alongside Penny as Mark’s longtime roommate, and in that first scene it’s also established that he has an on-again, off-again girlfriend. I’m going to err on the side of it not being a spoiler however, because well before his route proper begins the game drops hints that there might be more to Ian than a goofy slacker best friend with appalling personal hygiene. His route progresses as might reasonably be expected from Mark’s coming out, with Ian as the fantasy gay-friendly straight guy who turns out to be not quite as straight as initially advertised.

There’s just one very large problem with that and it’s not the size of his dick. Because Ian is first and foremost Mark’s roommate he has the privilege of appearing as a supporting character in routes other than his own, and in fact there are CGs featuring him in some of those routes. This results in Ian receiving the most overall development of any of the love interests, ranging from the oddball humor that he injects into situations all over the story to his raging and, er, adventurous libido leading to all manner of masturbatory mishaps for Mark to, most jarringly, poorly-disguised jealousy over the other love interests should Mark choose to pursue them. One would expect this to result in a fantastically fleshed-out character and an excellent foundation for a route of his own that builds off Ian’s simple charm and manic energy to craft an excellent best friend romance.

Yet...it kind of doesn’t? It took me until my most recent playthrough to appreciate this properly, but more than any of the others Ian’s route is written as the most conventionally romantic. It incorporates a host of romcom staples - UST, misunderstandings, miscommunication, more than one romantic false lead, a wedding at the end, mood lighting for its softcore bondage scene - and while most of the other routes include one or two of those elements as well this is undoubtedly the only one that ever comes close to feeling cheesy or maudlin. Unfortunately however that kind of writing just doesn’t play well with Ian’s over-the-top comic relief antics, and so for most of the latter part of his own route he comes off as oddly bland. The writing mines some jokes out of his growing jealousy of the other men Mark expresses interest in dating, and it offers Mark a devastating early sex scene bad ending opportunity in the form of Ian coming onto Mark while drunk and forcing the player to choose between a rimjob now or double oral and/or flip-fucking later. Sure, that setup and some of what comes before it plays right into who Ian is as a character - a well-meaning idiot with a lot of insecurity surrounding his relationship to Mark - but after that point whether you take the rimjob or not Ian practically fades into the role of generic romantic lead as Mark must work to repair their friendship and then guide it into uncharted territory.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make, contrast these two CGs. The first is from Ian’s friendship ending (something only he and Penny get, based on spending time with them on weekends among other factors); the second is from his romantic ending.

Which of these images tells you more about Ian’s characterization, or about his dynamic with Mark?

I’m not going to deny that Ian has sex appeal, or that he doesn’t have a slew of genuinely funny lines all over the game’s script, or that there’s nothing satisfying in watching Mark and his best friend fall in love with each other - but it’s the lack of integration between Ian the comic relief roommate and Ian the love interest that doesn’t sit well with me. When I was reviewing Chess of Blades I name-dropped Ian in comparison to that game’s own best friend love interest Arden. I’ll do the reverse here: Ian may be sweet and a ton of fun, and there may be far more options for which pegs go into which slots in this storyline, but Arden’s character and story stick in my mind more because they’re never at odds with one another. Ian in the earlygame and outside his own route is so goofy that it’s very hard to take him seriously as someone who could be a romantic partner for Mark, and unfortunately that comes across all too well when the occasion finally arises.

#Coming Out on Top

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years ago

Text

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hey

Joe: my flatmate has some work I reckon your mate might be interested in

Joe: but it’ll sound a bit dodgy coming from me so you wanna pass it along?

Joe: moneys alright for no real work, depending on how you look at it

Ronnie: never done any work as a secretary myself

Ronnie: write your own fucking love notes

Joe: I see that

Joe: your accent down the 📞?

Joe: no cunt here’d understand you, never mind the demeanour

Joe: yeah, well, it’d really seem that way

Joe: but I actually need someone to take her off my hands

Ronnie: racism as foreplays playing to the wrong crowd hes more into homo bashing

Ronnie: errr dunno how you read his demeanor mckenna but he aint taken a her off anyones hands since before any of us had phones

Joe: i’ll keep that in mind

Joe: well homophobic of me to not tell him myself so he’s welcome for the freebie

Joe: not actual escorting

Joe: she does art, her life drawing class needs a model

Joe: I ain’t fucking doing that

Joe: tell me I ain’t 📖 him right on that one

Ronnie: fucks sake if youd said it was cash for cock wed be done talking already

Joe: I just did

Joe: sound, she’ll be made up, she’ll get off my case, and he’ll get £15 an hour, apparently 👌

Ronnie: sexist not to ask me

Ronnie: pass that on to your little gf

Joe: weren’t her idea to ask Charlie

Joe: you’ll have to take up that grievance with me as well

Joe: I’ll just point out it’d be even weirder if I’d have asked you

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: how much £ you offering me to bang you

Joe: if I did no point paying you to do it for her and her class and not me

Joe: that’s an interesting take on cucking though, loads that would go for it, I’m sure

Ronnie: ill write it down as youve made me go hunting for a pen in this shithole

Joe: cheers

Joe: take 20% commission or whatever

Joe: or take the IOU I owe him for doing this

Ronnie: you said it hed do this for fuck all ill take the lot and mary wont know it was a paid gig

Joe: if he can fend the flatmate off, undoubtedly a load of art gays he can have his pick of

Ronnie: that what youre telling yourself for why you dont want me to do it yeah

Joe: you wanna do it?

Ronnie: i want you to admit the reason you dont want me to is cause he scrubs up enough for horse girl and her course mates not to stage an intervention

Joe: not what it is so no

Joe: I know I don’t want to get my shit out in front of a load of middle class kids who know fuck all about fuck all, so I assumed as much for you

Ronnie: dont ever assume fuck all for or about me

Joe: why do you wanna do it so bad when like you said, you can pocket the cash and get him to?

Ronnie: i dont wanna fucking do it

Joe: well that’s grand ‘cos I reckon Sophie wants to see dick so

Joe: she’d be really let down

Ronnie: usually what gets you off

Ronnie: but im made up youre in love now like

Joe: please, she either don’t get it’s weird to ask me which means she’s some kind of special

Joe: or this is the start of her 50 shades fantasy and I have to be the let down to end all let downs and i’m already doing my best

Ronnie: rem is right to pay for it when she could just walk in on you taking a piss or having a shower

Joe: when you’re just a creep and not a predator 💔

Joe: not the girl my parents warned me about

Ronnie: if theyd be the type to go down the stables theyd have seen the other side of her

Joe: you’ve got your own daydreams, alright

Joe: put out the feelers, who isn’t a little gay these days, right

Ronnie: go ed and pass on ive got a bigger dick than him and she will have

Ronnie: i dont dream 💔

Joe: shame she isn’t equally inspiring for you

Joe: or anyone, really

Ronnie: cry about it with him when youre done pimping

Joe: what do you dream about then, when you’re awake

Ronnie: what you cant read me

Joe: clearly not

Joe: dashed your modelling dreams

Ronnie: blind and not able to read braille must be dead hard for you

Joe: is that sympathy?

Joe: or you offering me 🖐 to 👩🏼‍🦲 time

Ronnie: again you wish

Ronnie: 💭💉

Ronnie: cant make it any easier to understand soz

Joe: maybe I do

Joe: far as 💭s go

Ronnie: fuck maybe you do or you dont

Joe: well it ain’t why I don’t want to get my arms out for her

Joe: not tried it

Joe: but not a no

Ronnie: give a shit what you do or dont want to do for or to her

Joe: that is a no, tah

Ronnie: tell her not me baby

Joe: that’s not a big sister duty?

Joe: gutted

Ronnie: wouldnt know im the middle kid dorothy does that for us

Joe: i’ll ask him when i’m crying on him then

Joe: make a change for me

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: rack up the ious like a fat line hes gonna be made up

Joe: oi he’s like family ain’t he

Ronnie: &

Ronnie: you wanna fuck your mam

Ronnie: not oi ing you

Joe: well you get to think about me and him, you gave me her and you, not fair

Ronnie: life aint soft lad

Ronnie: and stopping at thinking about shit is the difference between me and you

Joe: I get it, you’ve gone there

Joe: purely here for the homophobia

Ronnie: your kinks match 💘

Ronnie: purely there so the lads dont kick off before hes got his kicks

Joe: see, you’ve got it in you 💘

Joe: the sisterly thing

Joe: my hate don’t get expressed by putting me in him though so I won’t run my mouth

Ronnie: not what ive got in me but im not giving you the talk just cause your ma didnt

Joe: you want a virgin to defile reckon Soph and her mates are prime, vampira

Ronnie: set it up with her ill show if i get no better offers

Joe: lucky girl

Joe: no more nights in doing doodles of cute girls that look like you

Ronnie: we dont look alike youll have to accept theyre of you

Joe: i fit less than you, by far

Ronnie: fuck off

Joe: sorry

Joe: it’s weird, say the least

Ronnie: i fit nowhere she made sure i dont

Joe: ditto

Joe: so buzzing i can write shit songs about it though

Ronnie: no

Ronnie: weve got fuck all in common

Joe: just the same mother

Joe: who put her shitty genetics and choices on us both at different times

Ronnie: i ain’t got a mother you cant cross out the un from wanted and act like its the same word

Joe: incubator then

Joe: she was 19 and still fucked, don’t think they had a five-year plan down

Joe: worse if she did, the state of

Ronnie: she made 1 choice for me shes still controlling you

Ronnie: were not the fucking same

Joe: you reckon

Ronnie: if you wanna claim it aint her fault youre this big of a pussy try it

Joe: you don’t think it’s my fault?

Joe: woah, just say you love me

Ronnie: i dont think about you when you aint trying to compare us

Joe: hot

Joe: I’ve thought about you plenty

Joe: uni ain’t that interesting

Ronnie: you came looking for me werent the other way round

Ronnie: you ain’t interesting to me mckenna

Joe: you reckon you’re fascinating, yeah?

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: if your flatmate knows anyone doing doc film making they can wank over me lying in the gutter when youre done

Joe: nah

Joe: you don’t want control of your narrative

Ronnie: i dont want a narrative

Joe: then i’ll be the only wanker

Ronnie: in your dreams

Joe: well you painted such a lovely visual

Ronnie: black screen would get you going can stay in your own fucked head with no interference then like

Joe: Static is my kink

Joe: you know me so well

Ronnie: your fucking kink is not shutting the hell up til i do

Joe: i’m a gentleman

Joe: and i’m taking that review

Ronnie: youll get a lengthy one from my big brother when you are

Joe: you don’t have to settle for hearing it and getting your kicks second-hand

Joe: I’ll have to be somewhere to be unavailable for this life drawing class

Joe: let’s do something

Ronnie: what you paying me to babysit

Joe: you can ask my mammy or you can see what you can get

Ronnie: if i was gonna talk to her it wouldnt be about you

Joe: thank god

Joe: so take the risk

Ronnie: of what

Ronnie: boring me is asking too much of you

Joe: that’s surely a given

Joe: risk anything but

Ronnie: if I need rescuing again ill call you thats the only given Joe: you’re worse than her

Joe: christian grey or superman, like

Joe: gonna be BFFs yous, I can tell

Ronnie: you dont like being compared to cunts youre nothing like either funny that

Joe: touche

Joe: come on, what would convince you

Ronnie: if youre gonna beg then beg and if youre gonna show me something do it

Joe: I know you’d like to hear me beg but I can’t tell what you’d wanna see

Ronnie: then the answers nothing

Joe: nah

Joe: the answers you want to wait or you wanna be disappointed

Ronnie: why the fuck would I want either of those things

Joe: that’s what I’ll give you then

Joe: the opposite of that

Ronnie: thats meant to convince me yeah

Joe: nah, I am

Ronnie: like fuck will you

Joe: see, you want to be disappointed

Ronnie: ill be disappointed want has fuck all to do with it

Joe: if you don’t come and see

Ronnie: come where

Joe: see me

Joe: i’m new in town, I don’t know where to go

Joe: fuck sightseeing

Ronnie: [somewhere she’d hang out]

Ronnie: go there

Joe: now?

Ronnie: whenever you dont know where to go

Joe: okay

Joe: and I’ll see you there when you don’t

Ronnie: when im not fucking either of our flatmates

Joe: when you’re done being disappointed

Ronnie: when you prove yourself as not

Joe: you’ll see

Joe: I can’t show you over the phone

Ronnie: you could

Ronnie: im going nowhere on a bullshit promise cause im not a meff teenager

Joe: and I ain’t young enough to think that’s a good idea either

Joe: pictures not doing no favours

Joe: if you’re there and i’m there

Ronnie: big if

Joe: I never know where to be

Ronnie: newborn i heard you

Joe: something like that

Joe: if you can’t leave soph alone I’ll do my best begging 🥺

Ronnie: she cant leave you alone id be doing you a favour

Joe: true

Joe: wouldn’t wanna be caught doing that though

Ronnie: let you do the clean up after ive killed and ate her id be caught well fast for that instead

Joe: you’d get caught for being three times your size

Joe: she’s a big girl

Joe: you should share, be sworn to secrecy

Ronnie: doing her a favour i shouldve said

Ronnie: fuck all going for her

Joe: way to get in shape

Joe: she’ll appreciate us using her blood for something artsy on the walls

Ronnie: ill ask the basic white bitch i live with to give me a clue

Joe: 🍆 will be appropriate for her

Ronnie: 🐎

Joe: they might reckon she did it with her dying breath

Joe: very artist of her, dying how she lived

Ronnie: hurry the fuck up with your confession song if you want credit

Joe: you wanna hear me confessing so bad

Joe: but I might be able to hand that in so

Joe: hold on

Ronnie: it aint me whos a choir boy

Joe: ugh, I wish

Ronnie: cant chat shit about us having the same fantasies ive been touched by a old bloke wearing a dress and i dont rate it

Ronnie: standard surrounded by homos night out

Joe: yeah, and the nuns are never the hot kind

Joe: if they didn’t self-flagellate they’d be entirely uninteresting

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: yeah, it’s tragic being this bored/boring, say it ‘fore you have to bother

Ronnie: didnt invite you to no pity party and if thats where youre trying to get me to turn up to dont bother is right

Joe: you mean you don’t wanna talk about your feelings?

Joe: like you said, like being left alone with my own fucked up ones too much to try and start a therapy session

Ronnie: what fucking feelings dead above & below the waist like

Joe: dangerously close to sharing there

Joe: you got your 💉 already then?

Ronnie: wouldnt be this chatty if i had

Ronnie: unlucky you

Joe: I’m the one that wants to see you

Joe: so I’ll cope

Ronnie: cant even spell martyrdom proper so youve fucked yourself looking for a pat on the back off me by matching the definition up

Joe: i’ll just ring mum up yeah

Ronnie: your da if not but it wont have the same satisfying end for you like

Joe: 💔

Joe: validations the last thing i need

Joe: had a whole lifetime

Ronnie: you crawling back to me with a boner for the accent your mummys losing is the last thing i need

Ronnie: get on the scouse samaritans

Joe: don’t reckon that’s a job you’ll get any time soon either

Joe: ‘less the purpose is to make sure people go through with it

Ronnie: couldve fooled me if it aint what else is talking a sad cunts ear off about their problems gonna do

Joe: attention seekers anonymous

Ronnie: no need to meet you there i earned all them badges as a kid 🧷🩸

Joe: wouldn’t be caught 💀 obvs

Joe: keeping it secret adds another level of masochism anyway

Ronnie: does it fuck

Ronnie: keeps you feeling like a smug bitch you can still pass

Ronnie: miss me with that pussy shit

Joe: nah, that’s that i’m in control shit

Joe: it’s not that

Joe: the only thing you might be smug about is how oblivious everyone chooses to be

Joe: if it weren’t also depressing as fuck

Ronnie: dont give em the choice

Joe: why?

Ronnie: why the fuck would you want to

Joe: don’t need to be my mother’s next cause celebre

Joe: she can force the therapy and concern on any of the others, I don’t wanna get better or have to fake like I’ll even try

Ronnie: then dont

Ronnie: cut off your umbilical cord and wipe up the blood trail

Ronnie: not like she tries very hard to herd back the black sheep

Joe: maybe they know and don’t give a fuck 🤞

Joe: I know I ain’t going back so whatever

Ronnie: & you reckon weve got anything in common

Joe: just 50% of our DNA

Joe: never said we were twinsies

Ronnie: if youd have said id have spat in your face 1st time we met get it collected and the tests run

Joe: I wish

Joe: has your face healed

Ronnie: wheres the fun in letting it do that

Joe: 😏

Joe: we can pretend that’s inherited if you need

Ronnie: not 5 i dont play pretend

Joe: if you keep digging, reckon the ink will be gone and it’ll be pure scar tissue

Ronnie: calm the fuck down i can hear how turned on you are about it from here

Joe: spoilsport

Joe: just thinking, scar that only vaguely looks like 🍒s might be well more rugged for my transformation from baby to independent real boy

Ronnie: laughing cos i like pain not cause youre funny

Ronnie: when you see or hear it from wherever youre lurking

Joe: you don’t leave room for me to get the wrong idea, you’re alright

Joe: all them fucked ones are mine alone and already there

Ronnie: get your girlfriend to draw you a pin up & dont tell her youve changed the lass horse head to look like your mas

Ronnie: masc for masc in your bio before you know it and 🦋 tramp stamp to follow

Joe: you know my dad already has a tattoo that looks like her, no bullshit

Joe: and another dead girl on the other arm but that’s a whole other boring story

Joe: playing dress up is off the cards too if I’m ever gonna be a big boy

Ronnie: where do you keep his severed arm when youre not using it to fist yourself and how old were you when you cut it off

Ronnie: if we re telling stories

Joe: 😂

Joe: where we keep the horse

Joe: that en-suite is massive

Ronnie: if he finds out it was a paid gig ill know where to crash

Joe: still gutted she don’t wanna see you naked

Ronnie: youre a liar if you dont wanna see her face seeing me

Joe: don’t know if anyone could be bothered to look at her when you’re about but yeah

Joe: the trauma would really fuel me and make her much more bearable to live with

Ronnie: youre welcome like

Joe: gotta stop being nice to me

Joe: you know stalkers, give ‘em an inch

Ronnie: telling me what to do is the fastest way 🖕

Ronnie: and i know you dont have an inch to give me making the best of this shitshow is what an optimist like me has gotta do

Joe: obviously you’re that type

Joe: not having it in common will have you back 👍

Joe: you’re inspiring, like

Ronnie: chop off my arms and legs and get a camera set up in the en-suite

Joe: you’d fit in my cello case then, could take you everywhere

Ronnie: course youve had a measuring tape out

Joe: hate to kill your optimism with 🍆

Joe: have a go at pushing it back in

Ronnie: how longs your tongue reckon that could kill any girls optimism

Joe: 💔 if it was only good for chatting your ear off

Ronnie: [send him a picture of your weird gross split tongue because obviously]

Joe: [how does that not make you lisp, or does it, I always think that]

Joe: that’s why you’ve not had an invite

Joe: 🚫🐍

Ronnie: gutted

Joe: you know you can show up and do whatever you wanna do whenever

Joe: I’ll take you back

Ronnie: this performance art is meant to what just scare her or teach you how to get her to back the fuck off as well as

Ronnie: im not a fucking tour guide mckenna & you can get yourself evicted without my help

Joe: you know I meant to Dublin

Joe: don’t think it’d take much to scare Sophie off, give it a month for us to both get comfortable and she’ll see what I ain’t

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: I said if you want

Ronnie: dont need your permission to do anything i want

Joe: don’t think any of ‘em are that lax with their socials

Joe: you’d need directions

Ronnie: ive had years to find em & we dont both hang about with horse girls from kent

Joe: can’t say it’s your loss

Ronnie: shut up about it then

Joe: 🤐

Ronnie: 🖕

Joe: got a whole fist here, you can keep it

Ronnie: sizeist

Joe: told her yours is massive like you said, it’s fine

Ronnie: i said bigger than his not a horse shes in for a disappointment

Joe: gotta 🤞 she’s an optimist like you babe

Ronnie: unlike you shes gonna wait to see what i do with it before telling me to shove it

Joe: you just wanna blueball me for the pain

Joe: go on, for your lols

Ronnie: she wont want me at all unless youre gonna watch

Joe: and you need a witness so I get time too

Joe: I’ll do it, torturous as it’d be

Ronnie: the iou is gonna torture me too

Joe: if you’re lucky

Ronnie: not the dna half we share 💔

Joe: damnit

Joe: what’s good about being Scouse?

Ronnie: now the beatles are dead youve got fuck all to live for

Ronnie: noted

Joe: only the good ones

Joe: I dunno, anything good about it never happened, left when I was a kid and we still lived in a shithole with shitheads

Ronnie: get in line she left me in a shithole with shitheads 1st

Joe: where were you

Joe: wonder how close it was

Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter

Joe: it makes her more/less shitty depending

Ronnie: it aint gonna change my opinion and I dont give a shit about yours

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: get cosy with charlie hed take you down memory lane

Joe: not before he’s got it out for the art class tah

Ronnie: you didnt say when

Joe: [probably an evening class like tomorrow or the next day, then the same time a week later]

Ronnie: too fucking late the pen is in pieces

Joe: sure it isn’t the first time you’ve left him a note in blood

Ronnie: hes only gonna cry about it & take the shine off his modelling debut

Joe: awh

Joe: message him 🧓🏼

Ronnie: fuck off calling me old

Joe: 😏

Ronnie: ill write him a note blaming what a twat you are for what hes gonna walk in on

Joe: what mess have you made

Ronnie: havent killed myself yet

Joe: and you’ve not stopped talking so no OD’ing

Joe: possibilities are endless still

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: come out

Joe: we can get new ink to dig out

Joe: whatever

Ronnie: you gonna suck his dick this time

Joe: I’ll just pay the old-fashioned way

Ronnie: flashy cunt

Joe: what being a student is all about

Ronnie: and youre too special to poison your blood how the rest of em do

Joe: I’m not opposed but I can do it alone, I don’t need to go to a sweaty student bar that plays shit songs and has a load of sad Soph clones giving it 🥺

Ronnie: you can get another tattoo without me holding your hand

Joe: I could

Ronnie: go do it 🦋 baby

Joe: have mentioned its not about the tat, yeah?

Ronnie: nah not that ive heard

Joe: come on

Joe: i want to see you, i’ve said loads

Ronnie: youve said loads of shit yeah

Joe: shit i mean

Ronnie: why

Joe: why wouldn’t I

Ronnie: thats your answer then fuck it

Joe: you don’t need to ask ‘cos you know

Ronnie: i did ask and you said why the fuck not

Ronnie: like its nothing

Ronnie: like you didnt turn up uninvited into my life not long ago

Joe: then tell me to leave

Joe: like it’s that easy

Ronnie: i didnt tell you to fucking appear

Ronnie: just cause youre a kid dont make me the dead fish you won at the fair

Joe: I never had the choice

Joe: she told me about you, talked about you all the fucking time

Joe: you’ve always been in my life

Ronnie: and youve never been in mine

Ronnie: im not gonna carve out a place for you now cos you want it

Joe: Alright

Joe: do it then

Ronnie: dont tell me what to fucking do

Joe: I’m not going unless you say it

Ronnie: no shit this is fun for you

Joe: like fuck it is

Ronnie: im the car wreck youre craning your neck to keep looking at

Ronnie: thats all the fuck this is

Joe: lie better

Ronnie: you dont care about me or what this feels like

Joe: I can’t take it back, you know now

Ronnie: you dont wanna take it back

Joe: I can’t, what’s the point pretending

Joe: I never said I was a good person

Joe: being sorry won’t change anything for you

Ronnie: its all your christmases & birthdays im west as this course youre gonna keep on spinning me out

Joe: Piss off

Ronnie: lie better cunt

Joe: So you’re allowed pity parties, yeah?

Joe: 👌

Ronnie: calling you out on your bullshit is allowed if youre crying thats your problem

Joe: if all you want from me is for me to go away, consider it done

Joe: you can’t hack it, my apologies

Ronnie: tell me why if im so fucking wrong

Joe: I like you

Joe: I want you, to get to know you

Joe: I can’t just stop it, not for myself

Joe: So make me

Ronnie: stop telling me what to fucking do

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: you ain’t saying anything

Joe: what do you want

Ronnie: I dont want you to like me

Ronnie: fuck is that

Joe: yeah, it’s obvious you go to great lengths to be unlikeable

Joe: not going to tell no one am I

Ronnie: so hate me soft lad

Joe: I’ll give it a go

Ronnie: ill make you

Joe: give it a go then

Ronnie: where are you then

Joe: [give a location of somewhere near your flat ‘cos don’t need to actually set you on the flatmate rn and that’s likely where you were]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re just gonna show up however long that takes us without another word like !?]

Joe: [just so much eye contact ‘cos what you gonna say what you gonna do]

Ronnie: [definitely gonna take him somewhere sketchy as hell to the level that like Charlie doesn’t know we still go there/we’d never take him ever like you wanna get to know me okay bitch buckle up]

Joe: [can’t let you hook up or shoot up yet ‘cos chronological but go along with this obvs]

Ronnie: [it would make sense if you made out/almost hooked up though because the vibe for the next convo was very much oh fuck what are you doing here we didn’t mean to run each other like this but also v flirty]

Joe: [agreed, and allowed, it’s the obvious vibe but any untold drama can happen to stop you in whatever dodgy place so makes sense]

Ronnie: [literally and just because you can’t shoot up together yet does not mean either of you have to be in any way sober so]

Joe: [hundo, we’re not saying he’s never done a drug lol, he clearly abuses his prescription as is so like, there’s plenty to be done without going there]

Ronnie: [and if we wanted to we could say that you watch her do it here and now before you do it together anyway because you’d both get a weird kick out of that]

Joe: [tea, bet you did not see this coming for your uni experience lmao]

Ronnie: [meanwhile she’s old enough to have left, do you wanna grow up babe? No? okay]

Joe: [the way you’re rolling with this, we know you’re fucked boy but pop off]

Ronnie: [I can’t overstate how much she’d be doing the absolute most to try and scare him away like I dare you to go back on what you said]

Joe: [we know you’re not gonna, soz babe, is very rude how he’s just waltzed in but truly did not say we were a good person lol]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not either and also is here for it more than she will ever express until we’re literally years into this]

Joe: [hi your mother’s daughter, but no, you actually have a reason this is messed up but we’re into it from the off and not pretending, risky af strategy boy]

Ronnie: [is there anything we wanna say happens that has lasting-ish consequences other than the make out/ almost hook up ie a tattoo or a fight with injury potential or an arrest lol]

Joe: [hmm, the possibilities, maybe a fight to show you can, could be about anything, it’s that sort of place]

Ronnie: [that is such a mood I love it and yeah could literally be you’re a new face or could be her fault because of the aforementioned doing the most]

Joe: [totally, and that’ll be an easy way to separate you and not meet until the next convo]

Ronnie: [exactly dr phil]

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Boy

MOVIE PHANTOM HALO

COUPLE SAMMY X READER

RATING SMUT AF

I sat unable to sleep, the street lights shining in through my windows. I wanted to get up and grab my comic book but I knew if my dad came back and found it he'd kill me. So I sighed sitting up in my bed rubbing my eyes a little and tugging my blankets around me tightly trying to keep out the cold. I climbed out my bed tugging my long pj pants up a little and shutting my door tightly but not loud enough to wake my brother up. Climbing back into bed and tucking my covers and blankets around me tightly biting my bottom lip a little excited, pulling my covers closer and slipping my hand under them gently and tenderly stroking myself through my pants and boxers to try and get me hard the second I began rubbing it started to get stiff and harder I shut my eyes biting in my lip a little harder slipping my hand under the loose waistband of my pants stroking up the obvious half hard bulge in my boxers trying desperately not to make any noise in case someone heard me slipping my hand under my boxers to gently and tenderly touch my shaft trying hard not to moan or overstimulate myself gently moving my hand up and down my shaft gently rubbing precum into my head with my thumb I tugged my pants and boxers down to my knees quickly going back to stroking and it quickly became pumping "uuuhh kimi" I groaned quickly clamping my other hand over my mouth as not to wake my brother or my dad if he was back yet, my breath unsteady as I got faster and faster my careful delicate touching turned in to just pure pumping and squeezing as my hormones took over in desperation, imagining her sweet soft skin, her smooth silky voice, her gently loving hands, her addictive sugary lips, and… umm everything else of my pretty little kimi.

I hit my orgasum like a brick wall gasping in shock as I did my hand instantly working on its own to ride it out my moans just audible below my hand "uuuummmm uummmm uuuuuummm kimi, kimi…"

I cleaned up as best I could and tugged my pants back up relaxing with my arm behind my head snuggled up in my covers in the early morning light satisfied and happy. Until a little while later I heard a noise someone was up and about

"Morning" beckett smirked leaning on my door frame

"What?" I yawned

"You're up early," he smirked. I just shrug "you seeing kimi Today?"

"Maybe" I shrug "depends how busy she is"

"You ever gonna learn that girl's real name?"

"It's not safe for her to tell me"

"You keep saying that what does her dad even do?"

"I don't know, she can't tell me"

"You really infatuated with that dam chick aren't you?"

"I'm not infatuated she's my friend" I argue getting out of bed

"Yeah? You don't hang out with friends to check out there tits"

"I don't!"

"Ohh so you don't see her purely for the fact her tits bounce when she walks?"

"No, of course not, she's my friend, and...even if I did like her, I would be for her wonderful personality"

"Sure Sammy, keep telling yourself that," he smirked "but last I checked, you can't wank to personality" he winked before he left my room

"It's none of your business beckett"

"I'm your older brother, everything you do is my business" he laughs "and you wanna keep it a secret try maybe not screaming her name when you masturbate at six o'clock In the morning"

I sat counting up money from my performance when I recognize a familiar figure come over to me

"Hey shakespeare" her sweet voice smiled I looked up saw her in her little blue converses that we're falling apart, her thigh high stripes blue and black socks, her knee length black pleated skirt, her blue long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, and her pretty pigtail plaits. I instantly jumped to my feet hugging her as tightly as I could

"Ummmm kimi I missed you" I smiled squeezing her a little tighter as I spoke

"Awww I missed you too Samuel" she smiled pushing me away a little as I had been nuzzled on her shoulder "don't I get a kissy?" She whines playing with the collar of my overshirt

"Umm, of course you do" I blushed keeping my arms around her and pulling her to kiss me, she happily kissed back running her hands slowly up and down my chest thought my thin t shirt her hands getting lower and lower each time we kissed making me hold her a little tighter pulling her slowly closer "uumm kimi" I moaned I to our kiss

"Ooohh" she giggled pushing me away a little but staying in my arms "down boy" she giggled

"Hu?" I asked a little puzzled but then she moved her hips against my rock hard erection thought my jeans and her skirt "ooohh… fuck" I sighed

"Awww what's the matter Sammy?" She giggled

"I'm sorry kimi, I tried so hard" I complained "I even did it this morning so I wouldn't"

"Awww Sammy have you actually started jerking off days you think you might see me just to try and make it so we can make out for more than two minutes before you get a Bonner?"

"Pretty much… it didn't work" I sighed

"Aww, I don't mind you getting a Bonner Sammy" she smiled

"I know, I just… I don't know I feel weird" I said just as her watch went off

"Ooohh sorry samuel I have to go else I'll be late for work, I'll see you later I promise" she smiled giving me another quick kiss before she headed quickly off in the direction of her other job.

I know both a lot and at the same time barely anything about kimi.

I mean kimi isn't even her real name, she can't tell me her real name so at this point kimis pretty much become my pet name for her well it would if she was my girlfriend.

I think everything about kimi could be explained with two simple words.

It's complicated…

Why does she use a fake name? It's complicated

Why does she have four different jobs? It's complicated

Are we dating? It's complicated

Everything about kimi is complicated.

We were kinda sorta dating… I think, we kiss, we cuddle, and sometimes we do sexy stuff so I guess we're kinda dating.

She works so many different jobs because her family needs the money her sisters are too young to work or help really her dad works somewhere I don't know where, and her mother is about as useful as a chocolate fireguard at least that's what she said.

Her name is because of her dad, something about what he does or something like that means she can't tell anyone her real name not even me.

I worry about her sometimes when I see her with black eyes or broken fingers, all of which I usually try to help her with and kiss them better where I can, and she does the same for me from when my dad's In a bad mood.

I finished up performing and headed to the comic book shop it was almost time for it to close so I was the only one there Walking slowly around looking at the figures I'll never be able to afford, the endless amount of comic books I got to the phantom halo section and began looking though

"Hi Sammy" her sweet voice smiled as she was sorting some inventory

"Hi kimi" I smiled

"Are you here for comics today or something else?" She smirked

"Well… comics, and to walk you home if you wanted me to?"

"Five minutes" she smiled kissing my cheek and going back to her work so I finished up and waited for her outside soon enough she came out holding my hand so I squeezed in her hand and tugged her along with me down the darkening streets

"Kimi?" I asked after a while "what are you uhh up to tonight?" I asked as we got to her houses back gate

"Nothing much, why?" She asks

"I was uhh just curious if maybe… you wanted to come over? Read some comic's? Cuddle?-" I began

"You just wanna make out and have some sexy time" she giggled coming closer to me resting her chest against my own

".... Well, I uhh I wouldn't say no if you wanted to" I blushed

"We'll see Sammy, maybe if you're a very very good boy" she smirked slipping her hand under my jeans to gently play with my half hard cock through my thin boxers "I'll come see you tonight, after dark" she whispered kissing down my neck

"Uuummm… why do I have to wait so long? Can't you finish me now?" I whine trying to kiss her but she wouldn't let me

"Because I like making you wait" she giggled her hand getting faster rubbing and palming over and over "you gonna be a good little boy and keep him nice and hard for me?"

"Of course I will" I gasped feeling a twinge of pleasure as I spoke "kimi please, im desperate"

"But you already jerked off this morning? How can you be desperate again already?"

"Because your just that irresistible"

"Am i now Sammy? No touching once your home" she wants

"But kimi-"

"No, no touching else I won't come visit, or I'll come and do that thing I always do when your a bad little boy" she smirked leaving a hickey on my neck

"No no please" I begged "I'll be good, I'll be good I won't touch, I can't bare when you do that"

"Alright see you later" she smiled kissing me deeply I kissed back pulling her closer desperate to feel her against me till she pulled back blowing me a kiss as she went inside.

I sat on my bed trying to make sure everything was okay my bed made or as made as I could be with me in it, the floor clean my tissues from this morning disposed off waiting as darkness fell and only a few minutes later there as knock on my window I jumped but instantly got excited trying to calm my breath down a little gently jerking myself to make sure I was hard still

"It's open" I Whispered and she quickly pushed the window open and climbed inside dressed as she was earlier but her skirt so much higher and I don't know if it was Intentional but she flashed her little red panties as she climbed in

"Hi samuel" she smiled shutting the window again

"Hi kimi" I blushed my hand working on its own I know I was only doing it to get hard again but I couldn't stop already getting close just looking at that little skirt those sexy breasts I wanted nothing else in the world then to strip her naked and have my way with her she giggled moving closer sitting on my bed above the covers pulling me to kiss her I happily kissed her back melting into those heavenly lips wrapping an arm around her to pull her closer, her tongue slipped into my mouth and I happily toyed my own with hers our kissing turning into a hormonal teenage make out "uuhh kimi, ummm kimi…" I groan I pleasure but she moved closer again and she pulled back

"Sammy?' she warns

"What is it?" I asked desperately trying to get back to kissing her, licking my lips savouring her taste unable to remove my eyes from those perfect red lips

"Where is your right hand?" She asks

"Oohh uhh I was uhh just uhh sitting in it" I lied moving my hand away from myself to put it on her waist

"Liar" she smirked moving my covers away looking right at the obvious bulge in my pj pants from my bonner

"I uhh I kept him hard, just like you asked" I blushed

"I think Sammy you were doing a little more than keeping him hard" she giggled pulling my pants down revealing my hard dripping erection as I hadn't bothered with boxers tonight "bad boy" she smirked

"I couldn't help it, with you visiting it's all I could think about… your all I could think about, I got so desperate and then when I saw you I couldn't help but touch in desperation for you kimi"

"That's not an excuse" she smiled "your dad and Beckett out?" She asks and I nodded "good" she smirked going to the bag she had dropped by the window bending over in that little skirt flashing her panties again she pulled a long tie out her bag and came over sitting over my lap tying my hands to my bed far apart from each other she tugged the covers away and my pants completely off me leaving me half naked against my bed restrained so much I could barely move I already felt desperate almost crying knowing what she was about to do to me...

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iammarylastar · 5 years ago

Text

1. Alone amongst brothers.

"Cal! Hey mate where are you?" Snowballs clicked his fingers under his nose, startling him.

Bad idea. Never startle an ex cop ex Marine who hadn't slept for years.

Chris -his real name was Chris- came out of his reverie and offered a poor smile to his brothers. Obviously missing his goal to reassure his squad.

Who was he kidding?

He hadn't been here for years. For 3 years. 3 fucking years.

He hadn't been the same since he came out of prison. Since his brother, his real brother fled to Canada, to never return.

Since Oyster, his little brother killed that asshole in a bar.

Thinking about it, all this shit had started after their mother died.

Big, huge mess she had left behind.

He reluctantly came back to the world, that world without his mom nor his brother, that world where he's a useless piece of shit, forbidden to serve his country in any way.

Reverie couldn't have been more inappropriate. Living nightmare would have fit better.

"Next round on me." Jaeger announced with too much enthusiasm.

"Same?" He quirked an eyebrow at Cal, who just nodded, not bothering to say a word.

He didn't need another beer. Alcohol free. Taste free too. He'd been nursing the same bottle since he settled his ass in the bar, mind absently scratching the corner of the label with his nail.

He had been sentenced to 6 years and spent 3 at Pittsburgh Correctional Institution. He got a release, good behaviour. He'd been lucky, somehow, half of the prisoners were there because of him. Death had waited for him at every corner, but freedom hadn't tasted better.

A lot had happened in 3 years. Life had gone on whilst his had stopped behind the bars.

Snowball found his soulmate Carlo, Jaeger finally got Claire back, they married last year and were expecting their first child. Milk spawned two boys, fuck he'd been out for a long time.

Brotherhood meant leave no one behind. He had Oyster's back, he did what had to be done to save his brother from jail. Sentencing himself, ruining his own life.

He got nothing left. No wife, no family. Sure, his bros had always cared, hanging out, working out, having him in for all their kids birthdays, family barbecues, even last Christmas when Claire and Jaeger announced the good news.

They all exploded, hugging Claire and clapping Jaeger's shoulder, whooping and cheering like madmen.

He was genuinely happy for both of them and tried to ignore the stab in his guts.

For once he wanted and was in the mood to celebrate. Till his eyes landed on the blessed couple's wedding pic pinned on the wall, then spotted another showing his brothers in uniform, proudly posing with the groom.

Stab.

He wasn't there and it killed him.

Claire told him they got a seat settled in his honor and it hurt more deeply.

He had missed so many events, so many people.

Oyster.

He had spent most of his miserable life to raise his little brother -half brother but who cares?- kicked his ass every morning to have him secured at school, kicking his own ass to quit both grief and booze and pass his exams to assure them a future.

Look what future both fucked up.

If only he could have the slightest news of him, knowing his brother was fine and safe somewhere in Canada, a letter, a call, an emoji on whatever social media... but no. The cops were still looking for Oyster for Ben Daley's murder and as a cop -ex cop- he knew he and his mates have been under surveillance since day one.

Oyster had been MIA for 3 years with no chance of brightest days.

And he was left alone with nobody to care for and nobody to love.

His sentence had him kicked out from the police department, along with his staff sergeant status. No job. No rules to give rhythm to his days. No incomes but a few light works here and there in the neighborhood. The people he knew always put in a good word about him and hopefully people didn't ask for his criminal record before hiring him for fixing their roof, painting their fronts or uprooting a tree stump.

Yeah he had a lot to add to his resume: by-the-book cop, dauntless staff sergeant in the Marine corps, 2 rounds in Iraq, baby sitter and groundskeeper. Impressive.

"Man, look at this chick over there." Milk nudged him. "She's been eyeing you like she's willing to drop her panties for you."

Cal finally lifted his eyes and glanced at the girl in question. Thin, sexy, a blouse full of goodies, gaudy red lipstick, prying eyes.

Maybe he needed to get laid. He hadn't had sex since he came out of prison. His mates planned a party to celebrate his freedom and got him a working girl for the occasion but he wasn't in the mood.

He hadn't been interested in sex, not after what has happened in prison, not even a quick handjob while watching a porn. No. Scratch that. He's been forced into lame and painful wankings when his balls threatened to explode, but it was no fun at all. Far, far from it.

A slight nausea invaded his throat of the reminder and he forced the thought out.

Double sentence. If he hadn't suffered PTSD after what he did and witnessed in Iraq, then he got his trauma.

He might never use his cock again. Playground out of order. Broken.

"Nahhh... She looks cheap. Guys I don't need another blind date, you know. Your Tracy girl was crazy, she scared the shit out of me with her earlobe-licking... fetishism." Cal rubbed his earlob with a disgusting frown on his face, having all his skwad laughing out loud, wiggling all tongues out.

"Listen Cal. You need to get laid. You need a good fuck to come back to life. You're hot stuff still, you just need to pick up some gorgeous chick and have some fun! Before your dick just deceases from dehydration." Jaeger joked, hilarity ensued.

He looked around the crowded bar, tired. Tired to pretend he could be interested in that kind of date.

He didn't need a one night stand. He didn't need some cunt to fuck. He needed someone to love. And be loved in return.

Like the ol'time when he lived with his mom. Or with Oyster. He needed someone who cared.

"Thank you guys but I'm tired. I better go home and get some sleep. Need to wake up early and..."

His lame excuses got cut off by an angry Milk.

"Oh yeah, because you do have so much to do tomorrow, don't you? Cleaning up the house and walk Mrs Riley's pet? That's why you're leaving your brothers now? Cal, when are you going to get rid of this shit and be alive again? It's been 3 years already, move on for fuck sake!"

Cal didn't blink. He deserved to be scolded by his gang. He's been no fun, nothing more than a burden for them. A big piece of shit, whining about all he'd lost. Poor thing. Soon he'd lose them.

He was whining again. He's got the best friends he could dream of, people he could call his brothers, who were totally devoted to him, heart and soul.

His family. His home.

Those guys made it all easy for him while his time in prison. Paying him a visit each week, twice a week when they were off. They paid for his lawyer, his loan for the house so he wouldn't be homeless when he got out of prison. So he didn't have to break into his savings and get ruined in 6 months.

They did it in a heartbeat, without thinking nor asking for his permission. They told him it was the right thing to do. The same way Cal had them home, safe and sound after their tour in Iraq. Beside Jaeger's leg, abandoned there. How guilty he had felt, and still.

He owed them... everything.

He leant on his elbows and rubbed his face. He considered staying and trying to relax and have some fun, but his mood was definitely shitty.

Time to shake his thoughts and his big ass. He survived the war, survived in jail, he could survive this night.

"OK fuckers. But I don't want to bury my future here." He emptied his drink, slammed it loudly on the table.

"Let's get home and shake the walls!"

He grabbed his other beer and clinked glasses with his mates, and chugged it whilst his bros cheered and downed their own drinks.

"Last one at my mailbox is a loser!" Cal jumped on his feet and started running through the door.

"Ohhhh, you bastard!" Milk shouted, running after him, quickly followed by an enthusiast Snowball.

Jeager rolled his eyes and took out his wallet to pay the bill. He wouldn't win anyway, his fucking metal leg was no match for those big machines.

The three guys were messing around by the front door, playfully wrestling to pass first.

Cal jammed Milk's head in between his bulging biceps and disheveled his neat hairstyle, having him struggling even more for his freedom, grunting with rage. Snowball was stuck against the wall, the two heavy guys struggling were keeping him to head towards the door.

In a joint effort to get free, Snowball and Milk pushed Cal with all their strength until he popped out like a Champagne cork, sent flying against the wall. Just as the door opened on someone coming in.

Cal ended up glued to them, pinned on the wall, crushed against his broad chest.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah! What the hell?" A muffled voice came from underneath Cal's body.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" He apologized, peeling his body from a smaller and thinner one.

His hands flat against the wall, each side of a face. A beautiful face. Still blurry, he was too close to focus.

Never too close... he thought. Her smell itself made him stop.

"I'm sorry!" He uttered, forcing a step back. Finally able to focus on delicate features.

"I'm fine, I'm fine...uh, hey... I'm Jessica. " She said in a big grin as she rearranged the strands of hair away from her face.

"Nice to meet you..." She started, inviting him to introduce himself.

"Milk, nice to meet you gorgeous." The bastard spoke first, getting on Cal's business, more than happy to embarrass his mate.

"And this is Snowball" he continued, shamelessly stepping on Cal's toes and bluntly pushing him to the side.

"Ma'am!" Snowball bowed before an amused Jessica, glancing at the three boys with a smirk. "Please, accept our sincere apologies. I hope this giant idiot didn't hurt you when so roughly trying to get your attention."

Jessica let her eyes wander at the big stud's body and face, making sure it didn't turn into a stare. The man was built like a brick house, huge arms, solid chest, his short hair suggested he was a cop or a soldier, his handsome face obviously annoyed by his friends' demeanour. His gorgeous self nodding his head while pressing his so soft looking lips together. She felt her heart stop and her inside melt when they locked stares. His blue eyes were captivating and something slapped her in the face. Through his hilarious expression and attractive features, he looked so... sad and lonely. So much she wanted to pull him in in a hug and never let him go.

She forced her eyes back at the two dummies still making the show for her.

"And this!" Milk nudged his pal, "this is Chris Callahan, the man you need.

The thoughtfulness itself, well, when it's not nearly killing you, this guy is not only strong, courageous and handsome, thanks God he's also single."

Cal wanted nothing more than vanish from embarrassment after getting rid of that motherfucker of a so called best friend. On a definitive way.

But the more Milk was blurting his shit out, the more Jessica looked amused and kind of interested in him.

Eyeing him. The cutest smile on her lips. Which she bit when she finally was caught staring.

"This big sweet heart is to take darling, and you'd be a fool not to try your luck with him."

Milk got a little closer and lowered his voice "I heard he's got amazing skills, like... look at the size of his feet!"

The 2 guys barked a laugh, clunching at each other while Cam just chuckled and sighed, more uncomfortable than ever. Jessica shared the guys big laugh then winked at Cal, before glancing down to judge their size by herself.

Milk wiped the tears from his face, oh Lord he loved making fun of his mate so very much. Calming down his panting, he stepped back, still hooked to an exhilarated Snowball.

"If you want to excuse us mylady, we're up for a male race contest, where the loser will have to walk butt naked the entire week." He said, bowing out at Jessica, then stepping out of the bar with renewed loud laughs.

Cal just shifted uneasily on his spot, figuring out a way to stop looking like the dumbest guy on Earth.

"Sorry... That was... pretty awkward, wasn't it?" He shyly tried, mentally kicking in own ass to not have found something clever to say.

"Found it very funny actually, you guys made my day!" Her genuine smile cheered him up a little.

"Those guys are total weirdoes, please do not believe a single word of what they say." Cal flashed one of his best smile, pretty sure it would work for him.

"Seems your friends think very highly of you. The resume they made of you is quite appealing, you know." She made it sounds like a joke but couldn't help wondering about that nice guy, nice looking guy all in embarrassment in front of her.

And the size of his... feet.

"Yeah... Well, wait to meet them once they're not drunk and you might hear a different story." Cal shoved his hands deep in his pockets. Looking so cute.

"So... Cal, I'm looking forward to hang out with your smartass group of friends, and hear all kind of stories about you, I bet each more embarrassing than the last!" Jessica's fingers were playing with a strand of her hair against her will, flirting.

And it seemed this didn't get unnoticed, by the way Cal's stare lingered on her delicate features.

"I... I've got to go and look after those drunken asses before they get into more trouble. I won't stop hearing of it if I don't beat them tonight. It was so nice to meet you and again, apologies for so rudely bumping into you."

Chris scratched the back of his neck, torn between two options. Stay and risk to embarrass himself more and more, or leave and risk to never see her again.

"It's OK, Chris I'm fine. We would find a way to make it up for nearly knocking me down earlier. Go get them, we could meet another time. I'm new in town but I'm here for some time, let's catch up later!"

Chris chuckled, mumbled a cocky "sure!" through an enormous grin, dared to throw a wink at her before turning heels and walked out of the bar.

"I hope you lose!" She shouted at him as he reluctantly started to jog towards his mates.

"Thank you...?" Chris turned to face her again, walking backward, wearing an astonished expression. That was not the kind of support he expected.

"I may not know much about you, but I figured seeing you walk up the streets butt naked could be fun!"

Chris couldn't help the large grin taped on his face to turn into a big smile, that charismatic pant-dropping smile that had been MIA for years was finally back.

As he jogged back to his drunken brothers, in absolute no hurry, a light in heart, he felt like that stupid smile wouldn't leave his face for quite a while.

#jai courtney #semper fi #nat wolff #margot robbie #chris callahan #fanfiction #brothers in arms #finn wittrock

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sub4bondage86 · 4 years ago

Text

(Stories found on Slaveboys - amupfurit)

I sit here writing this wearing white Adidas trackie bottoms, white McKenzie T-Shirt, Air Max Cap and Lacoste trainers, smoking, with a chastity cage on and a large black butt plug lodged firmly up my ass.. Ned-Slave Well, where do I start? I’m Dan, 20 years old from Glasgow in Scotland, kinda tall at 6ft, got dark hair and eyes and a great body, if I do say so myself! I was considered a bit of a scally, or Ned as they’re called in Scotland, always walking about with trackies, Lacoste trainers and a fag in my mouth. I got on well with my pals, all lads, proper lads, we got wrecked every weekend and ended up doing shit that really wasn’t cool; vandalism, happy slapping, etc. Sex talk didn’t really come up in day to day conversation with the lads, sometimes our pack leader, Jamie, would tell us of the bitches he had taken over the week and the others would all act impressed and cheer him on whereas I just smiled and lit up a fag or kept myself distracted to not look like the pussy I was... I’ve been into kink for a while now, looking on various websites to get my kicks out of other ‘slaves’ being used and abused, thinking to myself how great it would be to be put in bondage, even for just a little while. From my mid-teens I found myself looking less and less at girl porn, and more at guy porn, but I had fooled around with girls in the past and have had my fair share of pussy mostly just to keep the guys impressed and to stop the torrent of abuse the other guys who seemed to never get any action got. I had convinced myself I wasn’t ‘gay’ but I knew that I needed to be dominated by another man. I had looked and tried to get hard at Femdom stuff, but it just wasn’t for me, I couldn’t see me being used by a woman and from what I had seen most of them seemed pretty desperate, but I guess I didn’t look too hard cause I knew deep down that only a man could make me feel the way I needed to feel! It was my secret taboo and no one could find out, regularly deleting all my history and cookies, making sure there was no way my older brother Cameron could see, even if he did manage to log on as me. Cameron was not only my older brother, but my guardian as our parents had left some time ago, and despite being in and out of homes, Cameron took me in as soon as he could and we set up home together, 2 brothers having a great lads time in Glasgow. The house really was the party central in town, with mine’s and Cammie’s pals coming round most weekends for a good ol’ booze up. One weekend, a good few months ago Cameron was away at his girlfriend’s house, so I took this as prime time to have a major wank session while browsing the internet, trying to find a master or someone kinky to go on cam with. I’d told all my pals I was away with Cammie for the weekend, so had from Friday morning til Monday night to myself and man, was I looking forward to it! I finished work at the builders at 3 and went straight back to the house, sat down at the computer with a bottle of beer and a pack of fags to see me through the night. I found a website and quickly made a profile to see what it had on it. Wow. It was awesome. I didn’t realise there were as many guys out there into the same stuff. Some of it was pretty wierd for me though, guys pissing on each other and stuff like that I could never find a turn on. I read some of the forum messages, and man was there some horny stuff. I quickly had a look to see who was online and messaged a guy quite local to me in Glasgow... “Awryte man, nice pics, wud luv 2 get sum action wi u!” I clicked Send, and for some reason I was nervous. It was the fucking internet! He didn’t know anything about me apart from what was on my bare profile, age and location! Why the hell was I nervous. I got a reply quickly. “Boy, you will call me Sir from now on, I am not ‘man’ or ‘m8’, I am Master and you will treat me accordingly. Now boy, do you have a way for us to chat like MSN? If so, I want you to send me your user name immediately.” I got an instant boner when I read that, this hot sounding 25 year old with great pictures was telling me to send my MSN username to him. I lit up a fag and had a quick look around the site before another message popped up “Boy, I don’t take time wasters lying down, either message me your MSN now or never contact me again”. I kinda laughed but thought what the hell and sent him my e-mail address and waited. Just after I put out my first smoke I was messaged on MSN by ‘Master T’: “So boy, why haven’t I seen you on here before?” I explained to him I was new to this and was having a look around to see what I was interested in and maybe have a wank over cam. I explained that I was straight but was curious to find out more about this lifestyle and so far I was pretty turned on. “Very good, a newbie boi for me to break in! U look good boi...” I shat myself, how the hell did he know what I looked like? I started looking around me to see if there was someone looking or any hidden cameras like on the TV shows. I messages him back “LOL man, how the hell u know if I look good? “BOI, U will address me as Sir or master, and Mr Ford, I know everything” By now I was freaked out, he knew apparently what I looked like, but hell.. He knew my surname! I lost the horn and was shaking a little, wondering how this pervert had found out my sir name without me telling it to him. “Sir how do you know my surname? Please tell me or I’ll block you and that’s it!” There was no reply for a good 5 minutes, I was sweating and was swithering on blocking him and hoping it was a really good bluff! He replied and I just about jumped out my seat... Not only did he know who I was, but he had access to all the lads and my pals! “Facebook boi!” Shit what an idiot I had been, I had given him my real e-mail address which I used for everything, Insta, Twitter, facebook! Everything! I didn’t reply, I was shitting myself, what if this guy was going to out me in one go to all my pals? What if he was going to harass me or contact my brother!

“Well boi, get on cam, I want to see my new boi live! Don’t worry, if you please your new master, no one will ever find out. Trust me boy, Im not an old perv, I’ll show you my cam too.” Somehow, this eased my nerves a little. This guy probably didn’t want to be found out either and what the hell, if he did try anything I would just get the police involved. I clicked the send camera button and within a few seconds he sent his and my, oh my, he was stunning. He was muscled, with blonde hair and great blue eyes, he had a cool tribal tattoo similar to mine on his arm and both his nipples were shining with the little silver rings hanging through them. I got hard again and told him he was amazing looking. He looked like an Abercrombie model, only with a wild streak! “Good boi, now, tell ur master what you are into!” I told him I had been looking around the site and loved the look of cages and collars, even the handcuffs and masks looked horny. I explained I wasn't into getting fucked and I wouldn’t suck another dude’s dick for anything. I lit up another fag and told him a bit more about me and asked him what he liked and what he has done in the past. “Boi, I love getting wee ned fuckers like you all chained up and doing things to them beyond their wildest imaginations. Do you have any gear boi?” I asked what gear was, to me it was dope, but how wrong I was... He asked if I had any toys, anal toys! Any handcuffs or tape? I explained I really was new to this and only had handcuffs on once before, and that was after being in a fight on Argyle Street! I was still hard as a rock, sitting here like a faggot looking at this hot guy talking to me about dildos and things called butt plugs. He told me he had to go for an hour, but to research about kink and hopefully open my mind to the things he was going to do to me. I was wanking slightly and he said not wank or touch my cock before he came back. I said OK and started doing my homework for this amazing guy! I started looking around the site some more, reading the forums and trying to find out more about this new found fetish of mine. I read about loads of positions, different gear that guys use and looked at more photos of guys chained up with their cracks’ stuffed with dildos and these plug things. I googled most of the gear and found some sites that sold stuff and man, I didn’t realise there was so much and so many sites that sold them, it was amazing. I found it hard not to touch my dick which was tenting up through my trackie bottoms but just kept lighting up fag after fag to keep my mind (and hands) off my cock. Messenger popped up again, “Well boi Dan, how’s the research coming along?” “Hi Sir, Done loadsa lookin aboot n its aw fuckin horny stuff. Here, u got ne of it?” Master T replied instantly, “More than you could ever realise boi, and you are going to get to try it all out! Now get back on cam!” I quickly turned the camera on as I lit up another fag, shit, I only had 5 left, I wasn’t going to be able to make it through the night chatting to this stud with 5 fags! “Boi, smoke that cig quick, inhale each and every drag well, stand up, then strip. In that order. Go!” I puffed as quick as I could pulled the smokey goodness into my lungs, stubbed it out, stood up and stripped quicker than I ever had before. Fuck, what the hell was I doing? Stripping to another bro on a webcam, it seemed so fucking wierd but man I was as horny as hell and with my dick pointing straight up, I quickly realised he knew I was horny too. I typed to him, still standing, leaning over the keyboard, “ Like wot u see man” then quickly changed man to Sir! before hitting enter. “Yes boi, but it will be better to see you in real life. When are you free for me to train you up real good?” I asked him how he meant by train and he referred me to some of the pictures on the site and on another site while explaining that soon, very soon, I would be his trained cock slave. Reading what he said and looking at the pictures only made me hornier and my twitching cock gave it away. “We’ll need to get that greedy cock locked away too boi, can’t have my boys wanking without Sir’s direct permission...” I laughed out loud thinking it was a joke and Master T clearly saw this on cam. “That was NOT a joke boi, I have a CB-6000 waiting for you and you WILL be locked up until I say otherwise. Kneel down.” In my complete ignorance I asked what a CB-6000 thing was and kneeled on the floor in-front of the computer. I was still horny as hell even although this guy had managed to find out everything about me in not such a long period of time and have me do what he wants without him actually forcing me to. He replied saying I must not have done my homework well enough and not to worry cause I would be having it on very soon! He asked once again when I was free to come over. I quickly said, stupidly, that I was free all weekend.

“Excellent boi, I will be training you!” I started rubbing my dick again, hoping he wouldn’t see. Man I was horny, but I was nervous as hell about talking about this training. Over the past few hours I had learned so much and truly realised how much it got me horny. “Leave your dick alone boi, you will be punished! What’s your phone number?” I read his comment and instantly let go of my dick, this guy really did have power over me, and he didn’t even need to remind me that he could out me instantly if he wanted, but it didn’t bother me. I wanted, for some stupid fucking reason to let this guy tell me what to do and make me do it. “Eh sir, I dunno if I wanna give oot ma number the now” “OK boi, thats fine, who do you want me to tell that ur a little bitch to a man first?” I got nervous again and changed my mind, its only a number, I could change it if things got wierd and I wanted to call it off. I sent him my mobile number and started staring at my phone, excited and nervous about him calling or texting me. “Good boi! Now, I am going to phone you, you are going to pick up and we are going to discuss what time you are to meet me and what I want you do to beforehand.” “Awrite sir, no bother!” The phone rang and despite me knowing it was coming I just about jumped up with the fright, my heart was racing as I went to pick it up “Private Number”. “Good boi” His voice was gruff but soothing at the same time. “Now, while on cam, stand up and turn around, bend over and spread your crack for me to see whats now mine!” I didn’t say a word but did exactly as he wanted. He told me again I was a good boi, this pleased me more than I expected and was still hard as a rock. He told me what to do before meeting him and we talked about where I was in relation to him in Glasgow. Turned out he was only 5 minutes by car away from the centre so I could meet him in town and go back to his with him. “Boi, I want you to go to a sex shop and buy the following items, a large butt plug, lubricant, and a vibrating cock ring” “Yes Sir” I replied, thinking where the nearest sex shop was. He hung up and told me on messenger to turn off my cam and get going, and that he would text me further details. I lit up another fag as the first text came through: put your trackies back on, make sure u r as neddy as possible and get going. I finished my fag and replied Yes Sir, just leaving the house. I went on google after I got dressed and found a gay sex shop not too far from me and the city centre and found out how to go there. I was nervous, yet horny as hell. I left the house, wearing my tracksuit, a white cap, reebok classics, with only my fags, lighter, phone, keys and wallet on me... I walked round to the city centre, took ten minutes and started having second thoughts, man this guy could fuck me or make me suck his dick, eugh! I was into the domination, but wasn’t so keen on getting my arse violated. I made my way to the sex shop, looking all around me to make sure there was no cunt I new about before entering the shop. I was blushing and just about jumped out my skin when the shop helper offered me some help. “Eh, erm, aye man, just gettin some stuff for me n ma burd tae use! She’s into this kinky stuff like!” He sniggered, and clearly new my ‘burd’ was a man. I was red as a post box and started getting hard, I hoped he wouldn’t notice, but my bulge was clear through my CKs and white trackie bottoms. I pointed out a plug, and a cock ring with a vibrating egg attached and got some lube. He packed it all and I paid in cash to be discreet as possible. I walked out the shed as coy as possible with my cap pulled down and face down so not to be seen. I looked at the bag, SHIT! There was a muscled man’s silhouette on the bag! I had to walk with this bag, trying to keep with to side streets to try and avoid people. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, a text... “Now boi I assume you have made your purchases, I wont be meeting you in town so head to Central Station and get the train to Bridgeton, but first, stop in the toilet and remove your pants and dispose of them. If they are on when you get here, you will be punished. Text me back when they’re off.”

Holy fuck! This guy was serious and I didn’t seem to have a chance to meet him before going to his, plus I had to walk along one of the busiest streets to get the train. I was going to get on at another stop closer to me, but realised there was no bogs and nowhere to take off my knickers. I started walking briskly towards the station with my head hung low and lit up a fag. Shit, last one! I nipped into a wee shop on the way and got some, fuck there was some wee neds in the shop doing the same thing. I waited behind them in the queue while they bought their cigs and then got mine, not before one of them pointed at my bag and started laughing and telling his mates what it was. I was so embarrassed, even the shop keeper was sniggering as he handed me over my 40 fags and change. I left the shop and headed to the station, lighting up yet another fag en route to calm my nerves. When I got to the station I saw the train was leaving in 6 minutes, so quickly went to the toilets, locked myself in a cubicle and took my pants off. I thought about putting them in my bag for later, but realised I might be caught by Master T and though otherwise. I walked out the toilet and dumped my underwear in a bin before jumping on the train just before it pulled away. My phone buzzed again, this time a picture message. It was him, Master T, completely naked with handcuffs in his hand, the message read, Im just leaving for the station, you better get on a train soon. I replied instantly, just on the train Sir, be there in 5 mins. I started getting hard again, the train was busy and I had to stand, fuck! I was aware of people staring at me, my bag and now, my raging hard-on poking up through my nylon trackies. Nervous as I was, thinking of this meeting with a guy I barely knew for my first male-male experience was turning me on so much! The train announcer came over the tannoy: Next Stop, Bridgeton. My stop. My stomach was churning, my head was spinning and I was bright red with embarrassment but I knew I couldn’t turn back now, he would probably be waiting for me at the train as I got off. The next two minutes seemed to take an age to go by, then finally, the train stopped and I was at Bridgeton. For those of you who don’t know, Bridgeton isn’t the nicest part of Glasgow, its full of other neds like me, but harder, with teeth missing and shit like that, I wasn’t too comfortable with getting off with this hard on and bag in hand, but I did as I needed and stepped out into the cold air. I looked around and fortunately there was no one around, including Master T. I text him saying that I had arrived and asked what he was wearing to help me identify him. I never got a text back for a couple of minutes, I started worrying that he wasn’t going to come and I would have to make my embarrassing journey back to my house, underwear-less and horny. Then, a blue Audi RS4 pulled up beside me and I saw him for the first time in the flesh, he rolled the window down and shouted, get in the back boi, now!

I opened the door and climbed in, sitting opposite him in the back of the car. It smelled of smoke, leather and male musk, “Hi boi, glad to see you didn’t ditch on me like the other fuckwits I have had try it with me.” I laughed nevously, “Yeah man, eh, Sir! Nice motor!” He reminded me that I was to call him Sir, or Master T all times and I would be punished if I didn’t. I was still horny as hell, but worried about my fate. This guy could kill me for all he wanted and there would be little anyone could find out, I had deleted all my history. My mind was racing but deep down I knew he was all right. The guy was stunning, even better in real life. I kept staring at his face as he told me the journey was short, but he wanted to examine me before we went to his place so we were going to a deserted industrial area for him to check me out. He threw back a pair of handcuffs, proper police ones with the black plastic mould in the middle so they couldn’t be moved. “Put them on, tight!” I did as he said and was now trapped in his car with my hands cuffed between the seatbelt strap. I couldn’t get out if I wanted, not that I did. This was the horniest thing I had ever done. We drove in silence for 10 minutes, I wanted to ask him so many questions but he had told me not to speak without permission. Finally we pulled up outside a warehouse and he leaned back to undo my cuffs after pulled my trackies down over my knees. “Good lad, you followed my orders, my, my your a big boy!” I laughed again, trying to hide my embarrassment. He ordered me out the car, and told me to recuff behind me back, with my trackies lying at my ankles. I hobbled out and stood there in all my glory half naked. He revved the engine and moved the car off, I panicked and started hobbling towards the moving car, falling flat on my face, with no hands to stop my fall. I picked myself up, glad to see the car had stopped and saw him laughing at my trip. Master T climbed out the car with a cigarette behind his ear. “Thanks for the toys and smokes boi, all mine now!”. I spoke up, “Can a have a smoke please Sir?” “ I told you not to speak without permission boi! But as you are new to this and you asked so politely, you may” He pulled out my smokes and put one in his mouth and one in mine before lighting them both. I didn’t have free hands, so had to dangle my cig in my mouth while he walked around me checking me out, occasionally slapping my ass and feeling my abs. I was quite uncomfortable with him touching me, but my dick was more than happy. After he had thoroughly checked my body out he stepped back and nodded, taking a deep drag of his fag. “You’ll do boi!”. I felt so degraded and used, and I had a niggling feeling this was only the start. I finished dragging on my fag and spat it out. He commanded me back to the back of the car and opened the boot, “Get it, now!”. I stammered, “eh, whit?!!” Smack! He had hit slapped me hard on the side of my face. I was stunned, I must have started weeping. “Fucking pussy, get in the boot”. I whimpered, “Yes Sir” and tried to throw my self into the boot, which luckily for me had a blanket to land on. He grabbed my legs and tucked them in, “It’s only going to be a 5 minute drive boi, stop greeting and get a grip, you’re about to have the best weekend of your life, and so am I!” I felt comforted by his words and pulled myself together as the boot lid shut, the engine started and I lay there as the car was pulling away. I was scared, but excited. I had the biggest boner I had ever had and I was looking forward to jerking off when I got the chance, with my hands cuffed still behind my back it wasn’t possible and with it being so dark and confined I couldn’t manoeuvre them to my front to have a fondle. For the duration of the journey I just kept quiet lying in the boot, not quite sure what to think. I was awestruck by his attitude, demeanour and sheer manliness. After what seemed like a good hour (probably only 15 minutes), the car stopped and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were here, wherever here was. The boot was flung open and Master T lifted me out the boot. He quickly slung a blindfold over my face before I got a chance to take in my surroundings, which seemed like a generic housing estate. He grabbed my cock and started walking me to what I assumed was his house. I was strangely at ease for a man to be holding my cock, nay; I was aroused even more by it. I heard a door open and I carefully stepped up into the room.

“Welcome to my humble abode boi” Master said “Now, kneel down and open your mouth.” I did as he said as he closed the door, and I heard multiple locks turning. I opened my mouth and felt something hard, like a small tennis ball being shoved in my gob and something being strapped behind my neck. After some fiddling, Master stepped away and I tried to push the ball out my mouth with my tongue with no avail, it must have been one of the ball gags I had seen on the site, man, I grew even more horny! Then I felt something cold round my neck, “Boi, you will wear this for the duration of the weekend, and even longer if I feel it needs to be worn in public.” I heard a lock and realised I had been collared. I was now owned. “Kneel down boi”. I knelt there with a metal collar round my neck, a rubber ball gag planted firmly in my mouth, a leather blindfold on and my hands cuffed behind my back. I was as hard as a rock, but nervous to find out what was going to happen next. “Now boi, I am going to get you ready for a weekend of servitude, and fun before I release you back to your home comforts” Master T was laying out his plan, “ I don’t expect to be questioned and I don’t ever want to hear No as your first answer to any question I may ask you, of course when your gagged like that I don’t suppose you will be the conversation starter anyway.” He laughed. Master T whipped off my blindfold, the light hurt my eyes a little, but I was delighted to see him in his masculine form towering over me like a god! “Follow me boi” I went to stand up to follow him up the staircase in front, but Master T barked back “I did not give you permission to stand up slut, crawl!” I quickly jumped back down onto all 4s and struggled to ascend the stairs behind him with my hands cuffed. I must have looked some sight! Master T opened the door to the bathroom and pointed for me to go in, he instructed me to get in the bath, face up and to close my eyes. Once again, the leather blindfold was applied. Shit this was horny! Shit, is he going to drown me? I panicked and jumped up, only to be pushed back down by Master. “ Fuck sake boi, stay still, I’m not gonna kill ya! Relax, and trust me”. His manly, calm demeanour eased me a little and I sunk back into the bath. I felt his touch on my arms and the right cuff was removed. It was then clipped to the bar on the left side of the bath. “Be right back boi”. I was now cuffed to the bath unable to see or speak, and my boner was still raging. I must be sick. "Don't dare touch your cock!" I heard Master leave the room and listened some extensive fumbling around in the room next door, what the fuck was he doing in there?! I didn't touch my cock incase I got too excited and shot my load, which given my predicament wouldn't have been a good move. Finally, Master came back, I could smell cigarette smoke, damn I needed a fag! I heard metal knocking together, just lightly, and then my right arm was cuffed to the right side of the bath. Totally unable to move now! “Right boi, slave prep stage 1 begins” Master laughed, then blew some smoke in my direction. Aghh, this was torture; the smoke, the suspense, my raging boner not being touched! I felt something cold being squirted on my pubic area; I didn’t have a lot of pubes to begin with as I trimmed them down, but I knew what was coming… I was 100% right in my thoughts, he was shaving my pubes and dick, slowly and carefully, making sure there wasn’t a stray hair in sight. Laughing and coughing occasionally, he paused, presumably to take a drag from his fag and to admire his handy work. What a god!

With my pubes now as bald as the day I was born, I felt more and more horny. Damn, this guy was good! He leaned over and whispered, “we’re not done yet boi”! He lifted my blindfold and once again I could see his face, beautiful – God this guy is turning me into a right faggot. He took out both my diamond earrings, and my gold chain and bracelet; “Slaves don’t need these embellishments” apparently, “you’ll get them back when I release you”. “What do you think boi?” I strained to look down and I was truly bald, he really did take his time and make a good job. I mumbled “Amazing Sir!” and nodded. I was drooling by this stage and pretty thirsty, I was having a great time but wanted out of the cold bath soon to get a drink, a fag and a comfy seat. “Now boi, I’m gonna flip you over and do the back side”. Shit, why would he want my arse shaved?! I didn’t wanted fucked, well… I wanted to know get fucked, but it was taking it to a new level. I didn’t have a choice, so no point in protesting. He uncuffed my right arm at the bath side, and attached it to the left bar, then uncuffed the left cuff and attached it to the right side; this guy’s a pro, not letting my free at any point, whilst flipping me onto me knees face down. Once again, the shaving crème was applied and the razor was dragged across my bare arse and arse crack, slowly and carefully as before. I didn’t have much hair but he wanted to be sure, clearly! “We’re done boi, you look like a good wee slave” Master T chortled, “Best get you washed down and cleaned up before we move on to stage 2!” With that, he uncuffed my right arm and attached the cuffs together, then did the same with the left, double security! He turned me round just before I fell on my face and proceeded to take out my ball gag. Finally! My jaw was aching! “Well boi, how do you feel?” “Good Sir, cheers! I am so fuckin horny right now! I’m dying for a fag as well, Jeez Master, that was amazi…” He cut my verbal diarrhoea of whith a swift slap on the face “Shut up boi, your mumbling away like you’ve just discovered speech, but I am glad your having fun. Now, you thirsty?” “Aye Sir, im parched with drooling so much, please can I have a drink n a fag?” “Very well boi, I’ll get you a drink and we can have a smoke when we’re downstairs” He put my blindfold on, and there was silence, then I heard a zipper open “Open your mouth boi, I’ve got you a drink” He then started pissing straight in my mouth, I was black affronted, I didn’t know what to do. Pissing? In my mouth? I started to choke. “Swallow boy, you’ll be supping the rest out the tub if you don’t. I swallowed, trying not to gag, taking as much in my throat as possible without having to taste it. He laughed as I coughed a little, but shit, he was pissing like a stallion. He finally finished by showering me down with his piss. He rubbed it into my bald pubic area and grunted “That’s you washed down, and watered, lets get you cleaned up!”

I was totally turned off by this, my cock finally subsided and I was speechless. How could someone piss on me? Master T totally freaked me out, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it! Are people into this? What the fuck?! “What’s the matter lad, not like golden showers?” He laughed “Stay still til I clean you up”. He started the shower, shit it was cold! It soon warmed up and Master T rubbed me down. I still had my T-Shirt on, my favourite McKenzie one, it was now pissed on and soaked. Fuck. Master T turned off the shower and helped me stand up. “Now boi, I am going to un-cuff you, I don’t want any funny business or you’ll be drinking your meals from now on!” “Yes Sir” I mumbled, shivering with the cold air. I now resented even coming, how disgusting was that?! “Out the tub, come on slut, easy does it” Sir guided me over the tub. “Stand still whilst I dry you off”. I heard the sound of metal on metal again and I felt my right leg, then left leg be cuffed with a sharp click. “Not sure I could trust you to not run away before I take off your handcuffs, so these leg irons wlll reduce you to a hobble.” He uncuffed both sets of handcuffs holding my arms together and whipped off my T-Shirt “Fuckin nice body boi, felt good earlier but it looks great all covered in Goosebumps” He said as he rubbed the towel over them. I was proud of my body, with doing manual labour I had developed strong core muscles and good pair of strong arms; still, nothing like his amazing god-like physique. Following my rough towelling off, he clicked a pair of metal cuffs back on, damn they felt sexy. My libido returned a little, hey that experience wasn't that bad. “Right boi, stage 2 is coming soon, lets get that blindfold off you and go down stairs” He said as he pointed to the floor, obviously I was to crawl again. I crawled behind Master T down the stairs and into his living room. It was really nice, but had a definite man’s touch; big telly, awesome sound system and all the gadgets you could think of. He must be quite well moneyed I thought. “Right ya cheeky little cunt, sit on the floor at my feet til I catch up on Sky Sports News, I don’t wanna hear a sound out u, so here” He handed me an ashtray and a pack of fags, “Smoke away all u like but don’t fucking dare touch your dick” I sat in front of him with my back to the chair, he put his muscular legs over my shoulders pinning my in place. After watching the match highlights and us both having a good share of smokes, he said to me that it was now time for stage 2, and I was going to enjoy what was coming next. I was already boned watching the footie highlights with him, but after saying that I was rock solid. “Stay there, be right back cunt boi”

Master T came back a couple of minutes later as I finished off another smoke, wearing nothing but a pair of army camo fand boots, damn his body was amazing, I must have dropped my jaw as I saw him. “Haha boi, like what you see?” He said getting even closer. His nipple rings glistened in the light, highlighting his perfect torso, I was so aroused. “Crawl over here bitch” he beckoned as he sat down on the sofa across the room, “Lick my fucking boots clean” I don’t know what came over me but I went for them like a hungry dog, slurping and licking them all over, left then right foot then back again. “Nice work boi, I see you like my boots. C’mon upstairs”. He jogged up the stairs in front of me crawling, trying to keep pace, I tripped over on the stairs planting my face on the carpet “Ah ya fucker” I yelped. Slap. He leaned down, “I said, don’t say a fucking word earlier and I meant it, speak when spoken to, hurry up”. His verbal abuse just got me hornier, my dick was just about hitting off the stairs as I crawled to the top. I crawled after him into a room next to the bathroom where I had been shaved bald earlier, this was definitely not a bedroom, it was like a medieval torture room. Metal chains, a sling, numerous whips and paddles, wow. There were evil looking metal stocks and things I had no idea what they did, this was too horny. What kind of weirdo was I turning into, getting off on all this stuff I had only glimpsed at online?! “Right boi, stage 2 begins. Over here” He bellowed in a deep, sexy voice, pointing at the stocks. I crawled over to him standing at the stocks and looked into his eyes, for even a hint of what was coming next. “Stay” he said as he walked over, took a key out and locked the door. They key was returned to his pocked and he came back to me. “I’m going to unlock you and get you dressed in my favourite gear, seen as you have been so compliant.” I took this as a compliment and smiled, favourite gear? I wonder…

Master T reached down and unlocked my handcuffs and leg irons with care and speed, he reminded me not to say a word and do as I was “fucking told, or else”. I was completely at ease now, despite still being in a compromised situation, but I trusted him. His demeanour and attitude was so manly and powerful, yet it seemed he cared for me. He went over to a closet in the corner and rummaged around for what was presumably his favourite gear. After some time, apparently ensuring he got the right image, he shouted for me to close my eyes before being presented with my outfit. I closed my eyes and waited with baited breath for my outfit. “Right boi, open your eyes” Master whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw some horny stuff… Firstly there was a leather upper body cross harness with a shiny metal cock ring, like I had seen online that afternoon, then a pair of leather shorts, then a chain with a clip on each end and finally a rubber gas mask. Jeez, if I wasn’t hard already, I was rock solid now. ”Lets get you dressed, slut” Sir said. Firstly my arms were lifted up, and the harness slid over and tightened. Then, Master grabbed my cock and slid the cock ring over to the base and popped my balls through. Master told me to lie on my back, then lifted my legs to slid on the shorts, “Boi, these aren’t any normal shorts, these are chastity shorts, just to make sure you don’t get off when I’m not looking”. He tightened them and added some padlocks. Total lockdown! “Right now boi, lets get you restrained for some training”… Master T led me behind the metal stocks and opened them up “You know what to do”. I put my wrists and neck in the recessions in the metal, the ‘lid’ was brought down and a big metal padlock was added. My legs were then restrained with cold metal shackles. Now it was complete and total lockdown, I wasn’t going anywhere. After stepping back to admire his work, Master T came back over to me and smiled “Want a fag?” He kneeled down on one knee in front of me and lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke on my face, gawd did I want a smoke! He smoked most of it, teasing my by holding the filter near my mouth but not close enough for me to get a toke. Finally I got a good hit and exhaled. Nice. “It’s getting late boy, I had better get on before its time to lock you up for the night! Hows ur ass like a good ramming?” Master T enquired “Fuck off, you’re not fucking touching my ass” I stupidly blurted out. “Firstly, If I want to fuck you, I will. Secondly, don’t dare speak unless spoken to. Thirdly, you were doing so well, I guess I’ll need to punish you for refusing to accept whats coming to you”. Master T said calmly. “I am now going to have to whip your ass, which unfortunately means pulling down these chastity shorts, luckly there is no moving for you!” He unlocked the padlocks and pulled the shorts down with a sharp tug, my naked, bald ass free in the air. “Count em out slut, or we’ll see how long you last in that cage over there without a fag and only my piss for liquid!” WHACK! It took me a second to get what he meant to count them out “One, Master” WHACK “Two, Master” WHACK “Three Master”. This went on up to 15, by this point my ass was in agony and likely bright red. I was sobbing slightly, “Shut up pussy, that’s nothing” He said. What did he mean that was nothing, it was fucking torture and I couldn’t move to caress my butt.

“Right boi, that is enough for now” Master T said, “Now, lets have some fun, eh?!” Fun sounded good, anything to let me forget about the throbbing pain coming from my ass. Master T then moved to in front of me, ripped off a piece of silver duct tap & whapped it on my gob before I had a chance to protest. He repeated the strips of tape a few times over my mouth and down below my chin until he was confident I was going to be silenced. He then placed the S10 gas mask on my face and tightened the elastic straps behind my head. What a strange, horny sensation! The sound of my own breath through the mask was exciting me, my cock was rock hard swaying between my spread legs. Despite kneeling down on the floor with my legs locked down and my arms and head locked in a stockade, I was very comfortable and felt quite at home here. “Slut, now you are gagged and locked up, I want one nod for yes and 2 shakes for no, got it?” Nod. “Good boi, now, have you ever had anything up your hole?” I presumed he meant my ass-hole. Shake, shake. “Hehe, nice, did you expect to come here and get anything up your hole?” Shake shake. “Well boi, I am not going to fuck your tight little scally hole with my monster cock, I’ll rip you in half… We had better leave my cock out of there for now, agree?” Nod!! “Thought you might ‘say’ that”, haha! Well, the good news is I wont fuck you with my dick, infact tonight, I won’t even make you suck my dick, but you will be sleeping with a butt plug in, do you know what that is?” Nod. I knew exactly what they were, and I didn’t like the look of them. “Eager, I see boi!” Master T laughed as he walked towards his toy chest. After some rummaging around he came back with a handful of black rubber plugs in different sizes and shapes, some even had things hanging off them. Wow, what the hell was I doing here?! “Right boi, new game, I have the a 14cm plug in one hand and a 16.5cm plug in the other hand. I am going to shuffle then behind my back and the one you pick goes up your ass until breakfast tomorrow, ok?” Slow Nod. I saw they both had a wide girth but the larger one was less tapered at the base. “I’m going with your thumbs up to whichever hand you want” Nod. He then shuffled the plugs behind his back and asked the question, “Left, or Right?” I put up my left thumb. “Well boi… you’ve picked…

(Sadly it wasn't finished......if anyone wants to.....)

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diegoh4rgreeves · 6 years ago

Text

The Polaroid

Story Summary: Diego Hargreeves has a new girlfriend who he just recently made love to. She tries to surprise him with a nude Polaroid which ends up getting lost. They spend their afternoon looking for it. They find it at Griddy’s Doughnuts with Diego’s brother, Five, after spotting Klaus with it because Klaus thought it was a joint paper. The couple gets the Polaroid back, and it prompts Diego and reader to have sex at an unlikely place… After sex, the couple cuddle at the academy and fall asleep together.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Female Reader

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 2,447 words

Warning: Fluff, smut, swearing

A/N: I originally wrote this as an imagine where reader simply gives him the Polaroid and he keeps it. Then I thought this would make a cute dilemma and wanted to make them a realistic couple who love each other and still bicker over things. I hope you all enjoy this. I’m passionate about photography and about Diego, so I wanted to put 2 things I love in a story!

I walk into the bathroom of the gym to check myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a yellow-and-white checkered dress, clipped my bangs to one side, applied red lipstick, and I make sure that my winged black eyeliner was set properly. I give one big smile to the mirror and feel confident in approaching my boyfriend, Diego Hargreeves. He’s going to love this outfit! I usually wear all-black clothing which he also loves. I just thought I’d change it up for today.

I walk out of the bathroom and see him fighting at the boxing rink. Diego Hargreeves is Number 2 of the superhero league, the Umbrella Academy. He’s known as The Kraken. His speciality is in throwing knives. I met him at a punk show when his sister Vanya (Number 7, The White Violin) and he were briefly in a band. I didn’t see him for almost a year after that night. Vanya and I kept in touch and she told me that Diego had an urgent mission the last night of their show. She spent her time learning to play the violin and later teaching it to kids.

I’m a music photographer and took their photos the show before they disbanded. I sent the prints of the photos to Vanya by mail, and we’ve gotten coffee together occasionally. Vanya is cool with her frail looks, and dress shirts and jeans. She’s a nervous person. One time she accidentally poured salt in her coffee. She dared me to drink it. I did. It was nasty. It was that same day she took me over to the academy and introduced me to her siblings. That was how I met Diego again. There was an instant spark. We flirted like it was no one’s business. We talked on the phone for weeks. I came to the gym to watch him and took photos of him in action. Then that evolved to taking photos of each other on unintentional dates. This went on for a few months. Finally, he’s my boyfriend, and I am so happy.

I watch him throw punches and put a guy in a headlock. They’re both groaning as they fight. In between all that, he beams up when he sees me and holds up his hand to indicate a wave at me. I grin at him as acknowledgement to the wave.

I’m especially excited to see Diego today because we made love together for the first time a few nights ago. I took a nude Polaroid of myself and decorated the edges of it with lipstick marks, glued-on rose petals, and an ‘i love u’ written from a red Sharpie. I left it underneath the pillow of his bed in the boiler room of the gym, where he lives.

“Winner!” The ref holds up my boyfriend’s arm. Diego heavily breathes as he holds still with his arm up. There’s slow and light clapping for him. It’s only 11am, so not many people are at the gym right now.

He comes down and immediately walks over to me. He’s sweating and he puts his arm around me. “Hey,” he pecks my cheek. “How was that? Did you like the fight?”

I grin and turn slightly towards him. I place the tips of my fingers on his chest. “Why yes, I did. I think you’ll really know my reaction if you check underneath your pillow soon enough…”

He cocks his eyebrow at me.

“You’ll see what I mean.” I giggle.

He smirks and nods. “Okay then. I guess I’ll check this right now!”

I smirk back and grab his arm to lead the way to his bedroom.

He follows suit. I can feel his pulse still going fast. “You don’t mind if I don’t shower first? I mean…” We’re outside his room now. He leans and whispers, “…You look hella good today. Let me look just as presentable for you.”

I blow raspberries and bend my wrist. “You always look good, Diego. In fact…” I hold the knob to the boiler room. I eye him up and down. “You’re not gonna need your clothes soon anyway.”

“Y/N,” he laughs. “Seriously, what’s underneath my pillow?”

“Just wait for it!” I laugh. “I love leaving you in suspense.”

He growls and twists the doorknob. “It better be your panties…” That actually would have been a great idea… I just show up to the gym in a dress and no underwear on. He would have loved that.

“Well, no,” I respond as we walk into the room. “Just check, Diego!” I stop myself a few steps into the room while he walks over to the bed with curiosity.

He lifts his pillow up. “Hmm.”

I furrow my brows. “What is it?”

“I don’t see anything…” He turns around to me and smirks. “Is it invisible?”

I walk over to his bed and check for the spot I left the Polaroid myself. It’s not there.

“Maybe it fell behind my bed.”

I nod. “Okay. You lift the mattress and I’ll check underneath.” He does as he’s told. I check underneath, and on the floor. Nothing. “What the hell…” I whisper.

“Y/N, just tell me what it was, and we’ll go look for it.” Diego looks at me with concern.

I sigh. “It was… a nude Polaroid… of me.” I look at the ground in shame. Maybe this was a bad idea. Fuck knows where it is now and if some pervert beat Diego to it…

He looks at me in bewilderment. “Oh…” he looks to the side.

I nod. “Mmmhm.”

“Okay… Well… I have no idea where it went!” Diego smirks.

“Neither do I!” I retort. “What the fuck do we do about this, Diego!? You can’t just ask the guys if they saw a nude photo of your girlfriend. They already know what I look like, so it’d be awkward as hell.”

“Why did you even have to take a picture!?” Diego argues. “You’re already in my wank bank.”

“Wank bank!? Who says that anymore?”

He sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blame you for this problem. We will find the picture, okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder. I look away from him out of embarrassment. “Okay, Y/N?”

I reluctantly nod. I don’t really believe that we will. I just hope that it’s in the trash by now and grinded up by a truck.

Diego and split up to go and look for the Polaroid. We checked the rest of the room. We checked the bathroom. We checked the boxing rink. He lied to his boss that he might have left some papers in his office, so he checked there.

“When did you leave the Polaroid?” Diego whispers to me when we’re by the entrance of the gym.

“I came in after a show I did a photo gig for at like 3am. I told your boss I had to leave something for you, so he opened the boiler room for me.”

Diego nods. “Okay… It should have stayed put then.”

I throw my hands out in frustration. “You think!?”

“We should just take a break trying to find this,” Diego sighs. “Tell you what, why don’t I go shower and we can go to Griddy’s for some coffee and doughnuts?”

I sigh. “I am getting pretty hungry, so we may as well do that…”

He puts his arm around me. “We will find it.” He kisses my temple. “I promise.” He heads on over to the changing room of the gym and takes his shower.

—

Over at Griddy’s, we see Diego’s brother Number Five all by his lonesome. The thing about Number Five is that he was born the same year as all of Diego and his siblings were, but he grew old from time-travelling. He’s a 60-year-old-man in the body of a 13-year-old boy wearing the uniform for The Umbrella Academy. He’s at the wooden counter and having a cup of black coffee. Five isn’t the most social person. Diego still leads me to him as we hold hands and approach him.

Five gives us a look. Even for him, it’s a strange look. “Y/N… Diego…” He gulps. “This is going to be… very awkward, but I have something that belongs to the both of you.” Diego and I give each other a look. Five pulls out a square white sheet of plastic paper. Both Diego and I gasp. Thankfully, Five keeps the Polaroid face-down.

I snatch it away from Five. “How do you have this, and why!?”

“I’m sorry!” Five holds up his hands. “I truly am! I told Klaus that I wasn’t going to give him money for drugs. The others must have said the same thing because he came home bragging to me about finding joint papers in Diego’s room. When he held it up, I saw a breast and I asked Klaus how he found a printed joint… and that was when we both looked at it more carefully and…” Five clears his throat. “Did I tell you how sorry I am?”

I sigh. “It’s okay. You did the right thing giving it back to me. Thank you, Five.”

He nods. “Now you and my brother go get freaky, whatever it is you kids do these days.”

Diego guffaws. “Oh, we will!”

“Diego.” I clench my teeth and nudge him.

“Later, Five!” Diego calls out and leads us out of Griddy’s.

Diego and I stand by the entry of the doughnut shop. “So, we’re not getting doughnuts and coffee anymore?” I point out.

Diego only exclaims over finally having the Polaroid. “Now come on. Let me see it, let me see it!”

“What happened to the wank bank?” I retort.

His excitement goes down to a sigh. “Y/N, did I tell you how sorry I am earlier? I don’t think I did… I’m sorry I was such an asshole over it. I really do appreciate you spicing things up…” He raises his eyebrows at me and smiles. “You were so shy when we first met…” He takes my hand and pecks it, and then he kisses down my arm.

I laugh wholeheartedly. “You are so lame. But I love you.” I smile.

He smiles back at me. He whispers in my ear with a hot breath. “Now let me see it and we can head to the back of Griddy’s.”

I give him a scandalised look. “Diego! That sweet lady who runs the shop will come out here.”

He shrugs. “Isn’t it exciting when it’s forbidden?”

I hesitate before giggling. “I do like that.” I place the tips of my finger to his chest like I did earlier at the gym. He holds up both my hands and kisses them again.

Diego and I walk on over to the back of Griddy’s. His mouth hangs when he looks at the Polaroid and he tells me how much of a dirty little slut I am for going through all this trouble for him.

He stuffs the Polaroid into the pocket of his black pants before he presses our lips hard together. His mouth is cold not long after his shower. I can smell his aftershave and his cologne which he seemed to have sprayed on excessively after his fight. He is so built that I let my hands roam his chest as we passionately kiss. Suddenly he lifts me up and pins me against the brick walls. I wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls down the top of my dress to massage my breasts and licks and sucks them; then he lifts the skirt of my dress up to my stomach. He grinds on my clit outside my panties and he looks at me. “You like that?”

“Mhmm…” I blush and nod.

He smirks. Then he unbuckles his belt and zips down the fly of his pants. He keeps me up and pulls my panties down to one of my ankles. He puts me back in position and slides on the condom he pulled out from his pocket. “Ready?” he checks with me.

I nod.

He stares me down as he slowly and teasingly slides inside me. He’s so big that the first time we made love, I bled. He seems to wanna be careful of that this time. He manages to still make this sexy. I want him to go at least a little faster. Suddenly he does, and I hump back. He smiles as he takes notice of this. I dig my nails to his back and call out his name. I forget where I am suddenly, and I start chasing my high. He’s so big yet I feel like I’ve adjusted to him already. He groans and tilts his head back as he thrusts faster and harder. He calls out my name as quietly as he can in this public area. I feel like we’re provoking each other, and it feels so good.

I got so into this that I suddenly tense up inside him and squirt. I tilt my head and moan as I let this feeling last. I hear him groan and then he pulls out. He kneels me down by him and tells me to open my mouth. I do as he says, and I shove him in. I move my mouth up and down him and moan. He calls out yes and lets out some groans before he lets out a big load which I struggle on swallowing all of. “Yes, princess. Thank you, princess,” he sighs.

Then he looks down at me. I look up at him. And we giggle profusely.

—

Diego and I spend the rest of the day at the academy. We are in his childhood bedroom. It’s small and dingy inside the old mansion. The walls are painted an army green colour and all his posters cover up some of the cracks on the wall. The floors are dark brown and wooden. His bed is plushy, and the fan in his room gets us to snuggle underneath his covers.

He is so warm. I try to avoid falling asleep on him. He points out me being sleepy and that it’s late anyway. “Would you like to stay over?”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Are you not going back to the gym?”

He blows raspberries. “Not that dump. I wanna spend time with my girlfriend tonight… if she would like to spend time with me.”

“Awww,” I giggle. I kiss the tip of his nose. “It would be my pleasure.”

He grins. “Great.” He pulls me back into his chest. I hold him back and close my eyes with the comfort of getting to spend even more time with him.

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