body jerks awake--- grip on reality lost, where the hell? glancing to his side, a sleeping form. confusion spreads, hand placing down, claws extend digging into mattress. he’s up.. up before he can process. this is too much. he feels its, the current. raphael paces, fingernail between teeth. this wasn’t his cell, this wasn’t.... what was happening. it’s too much, tailored collar is ignoring. brace your surroundings, get a hold of yourself. you’re on mission. this is.... this was not a mission. a constant war, he sinks to the floor ; body scrambles over to the bed, UNDER it. the wolf curls up, dragging his legs to his chest as small as possible, hand over his face. head rocks gently, no.. no.. no.
She liked his lips - that shouldn’t have come as a surprise. not with the way she constantly traced them. Her fingertips knew their outline intimately, the pad of her thumb had memorized the feel of them. What was a surprise, though, was the way he took her finger into his mouth on one of those occasions. Goosebumps were instant, the shudder borderline violent. She was hyper focused on the sight of those lips wrapped around her fingers, fixated, entranced with the way it looked. There was a small whimper, unusual and uncharacteristic coming from her, but she had no chance of stopping it.
“Rafe,” his name was a mixture of a warning and a plea, all wrapped up in a single word. “I make no promises of control if you keep this up.”
if he didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn that she would’ve kept kissing him, all night long. the way her eye seems to linger sometimes a long time on them, the way her dainty thumb drags across his lips with purpose, with a certain admiration. they were just lips to him. it is bravery that consumes him in that moment ; as her thumb is drawn between them, head lowering as he takes it farther into his mouth. a smirk pulls at his lips around her thumb at her reaction ; not as composed as she usually is, he likes that. the whimper travels right to his cock, which twitches in response--- his mouth responds as well, coral muscle, tongue moving across the top of manicured nail. he pulls off the thumb with a soft pop, “mm,” eyebrow raising at the wrecked tone of his name, “who says I want you to control yourself?” tongue darting out to roll across the tip of her thumb.
it seemed like clockwork--- finding himself overwhelmed over & over, seeking refuge away during his free time, ending up within the dragons office. sometimes ending up with longer free time, not on purpose, he just gets distracted from returning ; that and he doesn’t want to go against wishes. like NOW, finding himself here, toes once again in the familiar carpet, delicate touch of hers finding his face, his cheek.
tell me what you want. a simple request, and yet raphael today, finds it hard to find words. he doesn’t want to talk, not today. his body, his mind craved it again. craved it all. the fact of her office being there, her being there during the day free time, was only a convenience. a plus side to craving her. the warmth behind her touch, the way he always seems to pull the softer side of her out. no judgments were made and he’d never divulge the little that she uttered to him from time to time. she could make his life a living hell ( against others, more so than it was now )
tell me what you want. what did he want? his eyes, gaze seems distant today, like today was a particularly hard day. some days were easier than others, and it would get easier with time, as his body, senses and mind adapted. or it wouldn’t or this limbo is where he would remain. he wanted his home back, that’s the first thing he’d ever wish for if it came down to it ; he wanted summer lake back.
tell me what you want. raphael exhales gently, leaning then slightly stubbled jawline against the hand, the thumb brushing over cheekbone awaiting his respond. “you,” she means specifics but it’s hard for him to decipher anything his mind is throwing out, “I want you....I want....you to take me to that place again. need to get out of my own head.”
“Do you ever miss them?” He’d asked the question full of an almost wistful guilt, privacy introduced to the conversation by way of their native tongue. It was a tick, a slip induced by the wine that had been imported. It was promised to be closer to what they’d had back in the days where alcohol wasn’t quite as refined - when it was vulgar, from the earth, much like the two of them. Eyes closed as he’d lean head back, tipping it onto her shoulder idly as a rigid pillow. “Who we were without all these scars and shit?”
Ayda: we’re going to play a game.
Ayda: I’m going to give you clues to where i’m sitting right now.
Ayda: you get three, for free.
Ayda: each additional clue after that is 5 strikes.
Ayda: each failed attempt to find me within the hour timeframe, is 10.
Ayda: want to play with me?
[ text message : ayda ] you ask that as if I wouldn’t want to play
[ text message : ayda ] hit me with those three clues.
“what do you even wear to go shopping?” raphael questions as he enters her bedroom from the bathroom--- newly showered and wrapped in a very fancy bathroom robe. boxer briefs set on her bed for after his shower by him. entering her closet, hands shuffling through his shirts there, “do I just wear a tee-shirt, jeans? or do I wear shorts because it’s hot outside?” though that didn’t really matter with his body being able to regulate its temperature. he pulls two separate graphic tees out, ironic that both had wolves on it but.. he wasn’t complaining, “which one.. or eenie meenie miney moe?” inquiry pressed out as he turns back to her within the full part of her bedroom. “does it matter? what do you think?” so many questions, so much nerves buzzing through him. perhaps more at the prospect of an all day outing.
send “Flashback” to have your muse see one of my muse’s bad memories.
2 miles outside of Summer Lake, Oregon, 1995.
BANG !
the noise startles him from his spot in the car— even behind glass and snug within car does little to muffle the sound. tiny hands cover ears, in an effort to keep to stop the ringing. gentle whine presses out, he wishes his mother was there ; his father, but he was….. within eyeshot. or at least he was.
panic has seeped in yet as seatbelt still over him, little fingers move to the bottom of the window as he works on peering more over the space blocking the rest of his view. moments passed and there was no movement from inside the store, until a strange man came running out. gun in hand, not frightened just seeming content. no one else.
that’s when panic sets in. raphael sinks back down into the car seat before unbuckling his seatbelt. his father, richard had been taking way too long… longer than usual when they stopped places like this. of course, this time it’d been his fault. screaming, whining, kicking the back of the seat until his father conceded in getting him that special chocolate, that wasn’t bitter on their tongues.
with child proof locks on the car door, he’s learned, as he moves and crawls up through the space between the sits on the console reaching over and unlocking the doors. back to the seat, he opens the door and kicks it open with his small foot. on the concrete, he takes small, hesitant steps towards the food mart, “daddy!” he calls out. there’s no answer but in the stillness of the air, a faint muffled gargle. it furrows his brow, and that’s when he smells it as he encroaches closer to the door.
blood, the tangy iron smell, unmistakable. it picks up his pace faster until he gets to the glass door. hands up, blocking the streetlamps light so he could peer inside, “ daddy?” he tries again, standing on his toes to get the door-handle and push it open. there wasn’t much that wasn’t seen through the glass, something blocking his view.
once inside the smell was near unbearable, fresh. his father lay on the ground, hands slightly moving in an attempt to remove the bullet lodged in his side. “dad…” he speaks rushing over, dropping to his knees, whining, ignoring that blood was getting all over him. “raph..ael,” he stutters out. raphael shook his head. emergency kicking in—- while he wasn’t familiar completely he could catch on. tiny hand still larger one, soft glance is given and he reaches his finger in. his father grunts, as digits fish around for the bullet, he yanks it out when fingers finally feel it. there is a sound as it drops to the floor. “there,” he says, seen his pack heal from wounds like this. but when the wound doesn’t stop gushing blood. tears roll down his cheeks, “why.. why are you still bleeding?” he asks.
his father just smiles, and in no way shape or form does raphael find any amusement, “you’re not healing…” richard, in his mind knew that this was his end, the closest hospital twenty minutes away, with the amount of loss and silver within him, he won’t last another five minutes. “it’s okay my son,” it’s hoarse as he takes raphaels hand in one of his and the other without blood reaching up to brush his thumb over his chin, “take care of your mom okay kiddo?” “no, no,” the child’s lower lip quivers, “I love you both,” last words spoken that he could utter before he passes out, hand dropping away from raphaels face. “dad? d-dad?” choked sobs only sound filling the room… fading, everything was fading.
he screams at the top of his lungs sitting there in his fathers blood. background noise of the clerk awakening from the blow to the head, calling nine-one-one, through all of raphaels screaming. screaming subsides by the time the paramedics get there. little wolf boy curled into his fathers side. he squirms and kicks as one of them lifts him up, tears not stopping. the other unable to save a lost being.
minutes past, and his fathers body is being dragged out on gurney. it’s then than alice pulls up with ramiel. alice, his mother, immediately rushes from the passenger seat, rushing up the scene, “ma’am, ma’am, you can’t….” “my family…” is all she can manage as raphael’s uncle ramiel jogs up. they let her pass, “oh richard,” she speaks, tears now accompanying her cheeks, as they stop and let her touch his face, “my son, raphael, where is my boy?” they gesture towards the ambulance where…
raphael is perched next to one of the paramedics wrapped in a blanket shaking, tears down his cheek, as they continue to wipe some of the blood away from his face. alice approaches, “raphael,” “mommy,” her arms wrap around him, tugging him up into them. his hands cling to her shirt as he cries into the front of her shoulder. she cries too cradling him, one hand on the back of his head and the other rubbing his back.
50 shades of blue. Lapis: What’s your best fantasy?
now that he’s had more time to think about it, her question doesn’t stump him--- he knows exactly what he likes. and as much as he wants to say you doing whatever you want to me he refrains instead speaks neutrally, “tying me down, having their way with me... edging me until i can’t stand it anymore and I can’t push past that plateau, so much teasing.” he’s still not that experienced enough to really go that far into detail but he believes its enough for now.
SEE ALSO THIS ASK.
Prussian: Confess a kink to me?
one thing he’s noticed is that his chest is very sensitive, feels it more now with the skin tight henley’s he’s tried on and bought. “my nipples,” he begins, “they.... I like when they’re played with, touched they just...” he’s bright red now, “I could probably cum from that alone.”
Cobalt: Rough or soft?
“I don’t have a preference either way, not really, so long as it’s not always soft and the rough doesn’t get to the point where i’m fatally injured. then it feels like borderline torture and I don’t know if I’m all that comfortable with torture. or like the torture that doesn’t make me cum.”
