Smutblud

"And then there's one photo where I'm leanin' like this, see?"

You look up from your book and take in the sight, your mouth going instantly dry at the same time you feel yourself clench and know your panties will be very wet before long. "Mmmmm. Dominoooo."

You put the book down and slide out of bed, your eyes tracing up and down his form. "Stay just like that for me, okay?"

Dom lifts his head from it's posed position as you stalk closer, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. "See somethin' ya like, eh, love?"

"I doo," you purr, sliding between his body and the doorframe, ducking below his raised arm, feeling the heat and heavy presence of him, to admire the view from behind. He's leaning slightly into the doorframe his hips back, pushing his ass out the other way, the curve of his spine making a gentle slope before rising again to the top of his ultra-low-rise leather pants, his feet firmly planted, one slightly in front of the other, his weight braced between his hands and left foot, curving the lower half of his body to the left.

You circle under his other arm, completing your circuit and look him up and down again appreciatively, humming, your mind painting pictures of all the filthy things you'd like to do to him in this position.

Dom grins, his green eyes a full shade darker than usual. "Wut's goin' on in that head of yers, love?"

You smirk, your pussy clenching again. "Utter filth."

Dom groans, his eyes slipping shut a moment. You glance down, your smirk widening into a grin as you watch his pants visibly tighten. "Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it?" His voice is hoarse, accent like gravel.

"Close your eyes," you breathe, your lips close to his ear. Dom takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering shut.

You reach up and run light fingers down his arms, starting at his wrists. "First, I'd tell you not to move these, that'd I'll stop if you do." Dom sucks in a breath as you go on, your fingers continuing their trail down past his shoulders, feeling the muscles jump beneath your fingertips. "And if you couldn't behave, I'd just have to make sure you couldn't move anymore."

You duck your head down and swirl your tongue around his nipple, making him gasp and jump.

"Fuck!"

You chuckle, your breath huffing out around the pebbled flesh. "I barely even touched you."

Dom whines low in his throat as you drag your tongue over it before sucking the nub into your mouth, your hand playing with the other nipple. You play with his nipples, swapping your mouth and hand around every so often, enjoying the rosy flush that rises to his pale skin, tasting the salt as a sheen of sweat breaks out on his skin. Dom's body twitches near constantly under you, the muscles in his arms taut and you imagine that his fingertips have probably gone white from gripping the door frame so hard.

You drag your lips away from his nipple, through the small dusting of chest hair, following it down his ink-stained torso, your fingertips skimming in your wake down his ribs, feeling him jump. Your fingers hit his belt as you drop to your knees and finally pull your mouth away from him. "You can open your eyes now."

Dom's eyes pop open, the beautiful green color completely gone as his gaze lands on you, kneeling at his face, your fingers playing with the edge of his pants, a wicked grin on your face. He surges forward with a growl, scooping you up and throwing you back onto the bed, crowding over you, the bulge in his pants rock hard through the leather as it presses against you. "I'm gonna make ya pay fer that."

You grin, your heart pounding so loud you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it, your pulse racing. "Do your worst, pretty boy."

The look he flashes you is feral.

You blink at the photo when you reach it in the carousel, then burst out laughing. 

You screenshot the image and send it to your best friend.

Y: Seriously, bro? 😅

D: Wut? 😏

His reply is almost instantaneous, and you frown for a minute, trying to do the time conversion in your head.

Y: First and foremost, why are you awake and on your phone? Isn't it like 4 am where you are? Or did I fuck up the conversion again?

D: Ya know, it's kinda creepy that ya know which time zone I'm in at all times.

Y: Oh, fuck off! I'm just going based on the tour schedule.

D: Did that already 😏🤭

Y: TMI, bro! And you're avoiding the question.

D: Can't sleep. Wut else is new? 'Sides that makes it 11 pm at home, yer not much betta.

Y: I have tomorrow off. Back to the photo.

The phone begins to vibrate in your hand, and Dom's face fills your screen: Incoming Video Call.

You click accept and frown at the screen.

"This is not helping you get to sleep any sooner."

Dom sticks his tongue out at you. "It was gettin' hard to type one-handed."

The rustling of sheets can be heard as he adjusts, tucking one arm more firmly under his head, the phone falling over, showing the ceiling of his tour bus, flecked with artificial stars that twinkle down at you.

There's some more rustling noises, a clink and a muffled curse, and then Dom's face fills the screen again. "Sorry 'bout that, wanted ta prop the phone up."

You shrug. "Whatever works. Back to the photo."

Dom smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Liked that one, eh?"

"Nooo. I didn't. You know you're not my type."

Dom grins. "I'm everybody's type, love."

You give him an unimpressed look. "I just don't think it was very smart."

Dom huffs. "Well, yer no fun. Why not? Everyone knows I like a 3 am truck stop, especially in 'merica, ya never know wut ya'll find."

"In case it escaped your notice, the sign above your head clearly shows what truck stop chain you're at. Aren't you worried about that?"

Dom laughs, waving away your concern. "Love, do ya know how many fookin' Love's there are? And nobody knows when I took that photo, not even you, miss stalker."

"Well, excuse me for caring about your dumbarse."

"Ya worry too much, love."

"'Course I do. I'm stuck with you as a best friend."

"You say stuck. I say blessed."

You roll your eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it.”

Your silence is answer enough.

"Ok, but did you have to take the photo while taking a piss? I can see the comments now: 3 am Truck Stop Whore. Soon enough-"

Dom laughs loudly, tipping his head back and shaking it, lifting his hand. "Stop. Stop. Stop."

You wait for him to get control of himself, watching as his shoulders shake and tears run down his face, growing concerned as he starts to gasp and cough. "Dom?"

"Fookin' hell," he wheezes, rolling out of view and making noise in the background.

"Dom?" You stare anxiously at the screen, sitting up and leaning over it. "Dom?"

He reappears a moment later, scooping up the phone and holding it in one hand as he leans against the wall, his inhaler in the other, still coughing.

He shakes the inhaler and brings it to his mouth, pressing the top and breathing in the medication, his eyes closing.

"Are you ok?"

Dom opens his eyes, the inhaler dropping to the bed beside him. "3 am truck stop whore. Did ya jus' come up with that?"

You shrug. "Am I wrong?"

Dom chuckles and shakes his head. "I'll have ta rememba that one."

"As I was saying... you keep posting photos like that, and you'll have fans sneaking into the men's room at truck stops to try and get a glimpse of your cock. You tease them with it so much already.”

Dom laughs. "Good fing there's like 16 Love's in Arizona alone. I wish 'em the best of luck. Especially since I'm three states over now.”

You just sigh and shake your head. “Like I said, dumbarse.”

You can feel his eyes on you from where he's sitting on the edge of the ambulance, still wrapped in your faux fur coat, looking more like the 13 year old misfit you'd met in detention than the confident artist he'd grown into over the past 13 years.

You glance over and his gaze catches yours, flicking his chin as if to call you over.

You flush and wonder for the hundredth time if he'd heard your desperate confession, whispered in darkness into his hair as he shivered in your arms, his breath rattling in his chest with longer and longer stretches in between.

You cross to him through the chaos of emergency personnel, your eyes locked with his until you're stopped in front of him, your arms wrapped around your midsection, conscious of your torn shirt.

"What?"

"Wut wut?"

"You called me over here and you've been looking at me funny."

"I'm just finkin..."

Your heart begins to race and keeping your voice steady takes effort. "About what?"

He hesitates, green eyes searching, shining with pain that makes you wince in sympathy.

At last he speaks, each word sounding as if it were chosen deliberately. "I'm glad it was you in there with me. I don't fink I'd have made it out without ya."

You swallow back the emotions that threaten to choke you. "Anytime. Partners in crime, right?"

"Right."

8 hours earlier

Apologies for this being late, my head was trying to murder me yesterday.

And, yes, yes I know super short and evil cliffhanger. My original idea was getting wayyyy too long. I'll probably follow-up eventually.

D: Wish ya were here, love.

Y: Where are you?

D: 'Otel elevata, it's all mirrored on one wall and the ceilin', mental lookin'

D: Made me fink of ya

Y: Oh? How come?

D: 😈

Y: Something naughty then?

D: Ya know me 😏

Y: The bed is so empty without you.

D: Are ya there right now?

Y: Yeah...

D: Wut're ya doin?

Y: Something naughty.

D: Oh? Wanna tell me about it?

Y: Maybe...

D: Please, love? I miss ya and ya know how much I fookin hate 'otels.

Y: Tell me what naughty thoughts you were thinking and maybe I will.

D: I'm finkin about how much fun it would be ta fuck ya in here.

Y: I knew it! Naughty. Naughty.

D: Yer turn.

Y: Well, I'm just laying here.

Y: In our bed.

Y: Naked.

D: Fuck, really?

Y: Yup. I'm thinking about how much I miss you.

D: Oh?

Y: And touching myself.

D: Fuck, love.

Y: Your turn again.

D: Tease.

Y: Says you.

D: Fair nuff, love.

Y: Tell me how you'd fuck me in that elevator.

D: As soon as the elevata doors closed I'd drop me bags and push ya up against the mirrored wall and kiss ya till ya forgot how yer own name.

Y: Mmmm. I love it when you do that.

D: Then I'd push ya into the corner up on the railin' and.... get ta railin' 😉

Y: 🤦🏻‍♀️

D: Oh, come on, love, that was funny

Y: No. It wasn't.

D: Yer no fun.

Y: Well, in that case, I should put my clothes back on...

D: No. No. No. Don't do that.

Y: Mmhmm, that's what I thought.

D: Where was I?

D: Oh yeah.

D: Gettin' ready ta fuck yer brains out.

Y: Yes, please 🙏🏻 🤤

D: I love it when ya beg fer me, but we wouldn't have time fer that in the elevata.

D: I'd pull me cock out and flip yer skirt up.

Y: Who said anything about me wearing a skirt, especially one with no shorts?

D: No panties either 😈

Y: Seriously?

D: Ya wanted me fantasy, deal with it 😝

Y: You're ridiculous. It's lucky you're so cute.

D: Oh, please. Yer obsessed with me.

Y: I think that's the pot calling the kettle black.

D: Don't mean I'm wrong.

Y: Anyways, ridiculous notion of me wearing a skirt with no panties and no shorts, go on.

D: Once I had ya squeezin me, I'd grab that perfect arse of yers and move ya to the center of the mirror wall so we could fog it up.

D: No rail on this wall, so I'd be pressin' ya against it and holdin' ya up.

Y: Fuck.

Y: I can practically feel your fingers bruising my ass.

Y: It is so fucking sexy that you can hold me up and fuck me at the same time with or without a wall.

D: I work out.

Y: I know that, dumbass.

Y: I'm never gonna cum if you keep joking around you know.

D: Oh, well in that case.

Incoming Call From: Domino 🖤

"Excuse me, I was wondering if there was any chance I could get a copy of the setlist?" You put on your sweetest, most endearing smile and try to look cute as you make eye contact with the venue staff member on the other side of the barricade that blocked the side alley running along the side of the theater.

"I don't have one on me at the moment, but let me see what I can do," he says with a kind smile. He turns and glances around behind him, searching for someone or something, but the alley is deserted, save for a lone figure standing in the shadows of the open stage door, dimly illuminated by the light from a phone screen and the burning end of a cigarette held loosely in between his fingers.

"Yo, D! Do ya still got a copy of the setlist on ya? This lovely lady is looking for one." He gestures towards you as the figure looks up, a few strands of dark hair falling into his shadowed features.

The phone light dims and goes dark. Then the burning red cherry on the end of the cigarette flares brighter a moment before the figure steps out of the doorway and into the pool of light cast by an overhead fixture.

Your eyes meet and you swear your heart stops beating, your next breath catching in your chest. Time seems to stand still as the world fades around you, narrowing to just the two of you.

His eyes flick slowly up and down your body, his gaze scorching you with its intensity as he takes in every inch. A slow smile curls his lips as your eyes meet again.

You lift your chin, holding it, struggling not to shy away, his green gaze seeming to see straight through you.

He pulls the cigarette away from his lips with a deliberate slowness, his gaze lifting as he tips his head back to blow a long column of smoke up into the night sky. He drops his gaze and his head back to meet yours with the same deliberate slowness, his expression unreadable.

"Ya came." His voice is steady, betraying nothing.

"I did."

"Why?"

There's no accusation in his voice, just genuine confusion. "I'm not ready to live without you."

Something in his expression breaks, the cigarette lands in a puddle at his feet, he crosses to you in a few quick steps. His hands lift, reaching for you, pulling your lips to his.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him to you as much as he pulls you, the metal barricade keeping you frustratingly apart.

His lips are plush against yours, tasting of the cigarette he'd been smoking and of equally smokey whiskey.

The kiss grows more desperate until he breaks it with a growl. He reaches down and wraps his strong, ink-marked arms around your thighs, the muscles flexing as he lifts you up, over the barricade, over his shoulder, your startled squeal cut off with an oof as your chest hits his shoulder.

He steps back from the barricade, taking you with him.

This was meant to be smut.... it didn't work that way... at least I'm consistent, it's either smut or angst or both

You lead Dom back through his flat, your hand still in his, unwilling to let him go.

You climb back into bed after dropping your robe and pull him with you under the covers, curling into a ball on your side, your bare legs slotting together. You pull his arm around you, holding his arm tight, your fingers threaded together.

You snuggle back against the warmth and firm familiar comfort of his chest with a contented sigh. "Mmmm, that's better."

Dom chuckles. "I'm glad yer comfy, love, but me arms are gonna fall asleep like this."

You yawn, your eyes already starting to droop, sleep reclaiming you, making you goofy. "Too bad. Now hush, pillows don't talk."

You wriggle back closer to him, trying to press every inch of yourself to him as close as possible, savoring the warmth, squeezing his legs with yours, keeping him with you.

Dom huffs. "Are ya quite happy with yerself, love?"

You hum and wriggle back more, smirking and biting back a giggle when you hear him gasp and feel something hot and hard push back.

Dom's voice is strained when he next speaks. "Comfy yet?"

You wiggle with a bit more purpose, grinding your bare ass against the soft fabric of his trackies, imagining it getting tighter, tenting with his arousal.

A sudden thought crosses your mind, making you grin and bite your lip. You hesitate to voice it aloud; it's positively filthy, but it could also be the perfect solution.

"Ya know half the time ya end up on yer stomach with yer legs spread, takin' up half the bed or sprawled out on top of me. Maybe ya should try that. Me arms are tinglin'." Dom grumbles, his hand flexing in your grip.

You pause, pretending to consider, knowing, or rather feeling, the real reason he wants you to adjust.

You force your voice to come out light and casual as can be, not having to fake the sleepiness in it as you respond, "Okay."

You release his arm and allow him to roll over onto his back, then you roll over and flop on top of him, half on your side, half on your stomach, your face buried in his shoulder, one hand on his ribs, and a leg thrown over him, slotting between his, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, a warm palm skimming under your sleep shirt, rubbing your back. 

You snuggle into him, your breath tickling his neck, your hand tracing patterns across his bare skin, your knee shifting higher and higher.

"Mmm," you kiss his neck and smirk when you feel him shiver, his breath catching.

"Love-" his voice is tight. "Kin ya maybe-"

"Feel free to do something about it, maybe it'll help you get some more sleep."

Your voice is a sleepy murmur against his neck, that's only half-pretend.

Dom stills beneath you. "Now? But yer half-asleep already. I don't want ta disturb ya or keep ya up."

You kiss his neck again, scraping at the sensitive place behind his ear with your teeth. "Then wait till I'm fully asleep again; you won't bother me."

Dom's hand spasms under your shirt, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your knee.

You grin as sleep finally reclaims you.

Also, be sure to check out @jinx-on-mars-19xx story here

"You know, it'd be nice to wake up and have you still be there."

Dom lifts his head, a cigarette clamped tightly between his lips, and straightens, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry, love. I've always been shite at sleepin'. I jus' got a lot of energy. It keeps me up, and I don't want ta disturb ya."

You frown, gesturing all around, indicating the fact that you're awake and out of bed when the sun hasn't even cleared the horizon yet.

"Perhaps I should try harder to wear you out. Maybe then you'd be satisfied enough to sleep."

Dom's face falls, and you sigh. You're not trying to pick a fight, just tired and frustrated and a little conscious, a voice whispering in the back of your mind that you're not good enough for him, that he's getting bored of you already.

You'd woken up to find the bed empty...again and found him out here on the balcony of his flat, smoking, his head tipped back, and eyes closed as he stretched his back out against the railing in the chilly, pre-dawn London sky. 

He'd put on his trackies and an open, short-sleeve button-up shirt before coming outside, evidence he hasn't been up long enough to shower yet.

You shake your head and shove your doubts deeper. "Sorry. I didn't mean that how it sounded... I'm not totally awake yet."

Dom shrugs. "I understand. I wish I could promise it'll change or give ya a way ta fix things....I know I sound like a fookin' cliche, but it's really not you. It's me."

"I know...Come back to bed? Please?" You offer him your hand, shivering slightly, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself.

Dom hesitates. "I might not be able ta settle still. I don't want ta keep ya awake."

"You won't. Trust me. I'll be out like a light the second I'm curled back under the covers... but only if I can feel you with me."

 Dom still looks hesitant, glancing over his shoulder at the gradually brightening skyline and then back at you. "Are ya sure?"

"I'm sure. Just until I fall back asleep. The bed is cold without you."

Dom stubs out his cigarette on the railing and then tucks the remaining half in a pocket on the front of his shirt before taking your hand and allowing you to lead him back inside.

You blink at the notification that had just popped up on your phone, sure you hadn't read it right. "What did that just say?"

You click on it, and the article opens, the title screaming out at you: YUNGBLUD spotted leaving Queens grocery store and getting into car with mystery woman.

You scroll through the photos, the phone starting to shake in your hands until you reach the last one. You swear your heart stops. You gasp, not realizing you'd been holding your breath until the need to breathe becomes too much.

The photo is from too far away, and the interior of the car is too dark for you to see her face, plus Dom's shadow is falling across the car as he leans in the open window, a bulging brown grocery bag sitting by his feet.

You let your hand drop to your side on the couch, the phone with it, and try to come up with a rational explanation for what you'd just seen.

You'd met Dom, known to the masses as YUNGBLUD, several months ago, a chance run-in at your favorite hole-in-the-wall coffee shop near your apartment and had hit it off. He'd been in desperate need of a caffeine fix after being at the recording studio all night, pouring his broken heart out into the microphone; you'd needed a change of scenery to work on the musical you were writing.

He'd flown in late five nights ago to spend the week of your birthday with you, but had woken you up early this morning, apologies falling from his lips as he got dressed; a storm the night before had damaged the servers his Monday night radio show was recorded on, and they needed him in ASAP to rerecord his commentary for the next few episodes.

The studio is in central Manhattan; this article put him in Queens, nowhere near the studio, especially for a celebrity incognito and on foot; however, it was practically in the Upper East Side of the city, near where his ex had a branch of her family business.

You glance over towards your bedroom door; Dom's in the shower right now, having gotten home not that long ago, jumping into the shower immediately to get ready to take you out for your birthday.

Knowing you won't be able to think about anything else tonight, you take a deep breath and cross to the bedroom.

Dom's sitting on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, just as low as it was the first morning, a comb in hand as he meticulously slicks back the messy black strands. He looks up, seeing your reflection enter in the mirror, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, love. Ya look incredible."

You show him your phone, not trusting yourself to speak.

His smile falls, and his eyes turn dark, anger twisting his beautiful features. "Those mothafuckas!"

You flinch, taking a step back and watch as his face instantly transforms again into a swirling mix of regret, apology, and fear; the anger is still there as well, but overwhelmed by the other emotions.

"Fuck. Love. 'M sorry. I didn't mean ta yell."

He stands quickly, reaching for you, his towel slipping off. You avert your gaze, but don't retreat further.

His voice is softer than the palm that cradles your cheek. "Look at me. Please."

He turns your face to his, his other hand lifting to cup your other cheek, his eyes soft and pleading and desperate, begging you to trust him, to listen.

"I'm listening."

"First and foremost, I haf ta apologize. I didn't go ta the studio today. They didn't call me. 'M sorry I lied ta ya."

You stay silent, trembling, clenching your teeth together in an effort not to scream or cry.

His gaze searches yours for a moment longer before he continues. "I wanted ta surprise ya fer yer birthday, make ya dinner."

"We have reservations," you manage, inhaling a deep, steadying breath. "At that place I've always wanted to go. You put us on the list a month ago, just in case."

"The storm knocked out their power. They lost everyfing in the kitchen. They called me this mornin'. Askin' if we wanted ta put our names on the list fer reschedule, but that they didn't know when it would be."

"And the car? Her?"

Dom's face hardens. "Fookin' paparazzi spinnin' their own narrative. That was me Uber. I had ta put in a different location on the app and wanted ta explain where I needed ta actually go. I promise ya, love."

You find that you believe him, something in his eyes, in his voice, and a wave of overwhelming relief rushes through you, followed by guilt and then embarrassment, made worse by the tears that begin to fall.

Dom's face falls, and he wipes away your tears with his trembling thumbs. "Please don't cry, love. I promise ya, I'm tellin' the truth. 'M so fookin' sorry I lied ta ya. I jus' wanted ta surprise ya."

You shake your head, unable to speak through your tears and surge forward, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his shoulder, clinging on tightly, trying to tell him with your actions: I believe you. I'm sorry for thinking the worst. I believe you.

Dom's arms wrap around you as he holds you close, kissing your head and making soft shushing noises. "It's ok, love. It's ok."

You shake your head, your tears finally calming enough to allow you to pull your face back to speak, looking up at him. "It's not, though. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

Dom's voice is firm when he replies, "No. I lied ta ya, love, ya had every right ta call me out on it. I shoulda jus' told ya the truth. I'mma "celebrity", it's expected. 'Specially bein' a rockstar. I'm not mad, so don't you be either. Okay?"

You sniff and wipe away your tears, nodding. "Okay."

"A'ight then, let's get ready fer dinner, love."

"Uhhhh, Dom?"

"Yah, love?"

You look down between your bodies, where the hard length of his cock is pressed between you, a small wet spot forming on your dress.

"Oh."

You look up at him. "Really?"

He smirks. "Told you ya look fookin' incredible."

You laugh. "You're ridiculous.... but seeing as I need to change and you're already naked..."

Dom grins. "I like the way ya fink."

Oopsie, it's a little long 🤭