singillatim | A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

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A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

Who: Chloe Frazer & others
What: Catch-all; open prompts
When: March and April
Where: Around Milton

Content Warnings: Self-injury content related to the echo effects. Descriptions of canon typical violence and murder. Talk about hunting/eating animals.

Chloe doesn't trust Methuselah as far as she could throw him, and a trip through a mine where she's forced to rely on the goodwill of a bunch of cop types does not sound like her idea of a good time. Also, sticking around Milton when most of the people who 'patrol' (imagine her air quotes) are away is a great opportunity to snoop in people’s houses.

Anyone who remains in or returns to Milton may find her either doing her usual wild running in the woods, checking her snares for snacks, or sneaking around newly empty locations to see what's been left behind.

Aurora nights are a different thing, however. Chloe likes to think that she's done her best to do right by the people that she cares about, but the truth is she's cut a few throats in her day, stepped over others to make sure that she would wind up on top. Something about the aurora this month brings every one of those memories roaring back. It has her running faster, drinking until she can't see, and doing risky climbs onto (and jumps between) rooftops, trying to escape the feeling.

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Lalo feels exposed. That tiny little hum of hers is pleasant to his ears, but the thinness of his pajamas combined with the way she looks him over from toe to tip is mortifying. He feels like he's on display. Like she can see everything.

But then, maybe that's how he wants to feel.

It's not as if he's not looking her over too, albeit a bit more reverently, or at least admiringly. He drinks in her confidence, her mannerisms, her lovely dark hair and eyes.

And again, he answers honestly. The good-boy demeanor doesn't fade.

"Si, Miss Chloe."

He's nervous about what's going to come next, not sure what to expect, a little scared of what she'll make him do... but thrilled too, almost buzzing inside with anticipation.

Edited 2024-04-20 08:50 (UTC)

Chloe hasn't been in control of her own destiny for months now, ripped away from where she wants to be to this strange place where things just happen to them, and even their bodies can change without any input from them. What kind of say does Chloe have in whether or not the Darkwalker comes for her?

This is something she’d want with anyone. A chance to reestablish her own power. The way he's looking at her doesn't hurt, either. Chloe raises her chin a little.

“You would? That's sweet. Will you come closer, then?”

Lalo sucks in a breath. His heart beats. "That's sweet," she coos at him, and when she asks him to step closer, he nods and does so. Close enough to be in easy touching range, or grabbing range, close enough that he could easily reach out and touch her, but he's careful. He won't actually touch her until she tells him it's okay.

He can't remember the last time he was this at the mercy of someone who wasn't law enforcement or Eladio. He's not sure if ever has been. In fact, he's pretty sure he hasn't been.

Now seems like a good time to tell her, more because Lalo suspects it might turn her on to know she's defiling him in a way nobody has before than because he has any deep compulsion for honesty.

"Just promised you'll be gentle with me," he half-jokes, still red around the ears. "It's my first time." Usually, he would wink, but it doesn't feel right to do that, right now. It clashes with the good boy demeanor.

Chloe smiles a bit indulgently and reaches out to cup his face with her right hand. Her thumb sweeps gently across his cheekbone. It seems like even just one of her weak little girl arms is enough to keep him in check at the moment.

“I’ll take good care of you. Will you kneel for me?”

She's not sure if he’ll balk but she has to try it.

Lalo closes his eyes and leans into the touch as she sweeps a hand over his cheekbone. Her hands are rough and a little calloused, but that's okay. He likes that. There's a soft little satisfied sigh.

He opens his eyes when she tells him to kneel. There's maybe half a second of hesitation, but then Lalo does it. Sinks down to the ground on his (weak-in-the)knees in front of her, slowly, then looks up at her from the ground.

Shit. There's no turning back now. Lalo can't help but feel some trepidation, nervousness, not sure what's coming but realizing he's surrendering his power to her by doing this. He looks up at her, large dark brown eyes dilated with arousal.

Chloe’s a little surprised he went through with it, especially if he's telling the truth about being new to this. She remembers their first meeting and the disadvantage he’d had her at. The open, helpless look on his face now makes her a little dizzy.

“You're being so good for me. I think you deserve a treat: you can touch me.”

Lalo surprised himself by going through with it. Part of him had expected for something inside of him to balk. It's not his nature to submit to others. But here he is. On his knees. Looking up at her. He, too, remembers their first meeting, and he knows this is a role reversal.

When she says he can touch her, he shifts his attention from her face to her body. A hand reaches up to rest on her waist. If he had more experience with this kind of submission, he'd wait for further instruction, but he doesn't, so he takes what's maybe too much initiative and lets his hand drift slightly down and around to squeeze her ass.

Of course. Chloe knows her own best features and it's not a surprise that a guy who occupies so much of his time thinking about her does too.

She does use a hand to tilt his chin so he's looking at her again and tsks a little.

“Don't forget you're down there for me, love.”

For her. Yeah. All this is for her. She's a goddess to him right now.

God, it's so hot the way she tilts a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at her with his big, brown, good-boy eyes. A shiver runs up his spine. It's a pleasant one. Tingly and enjoyable.

His dick is rock-hard, brushing almost painfully against the thin fabric of his pajama pants.

But then he nods - obediently, of course, like a good boy - and he gets the hint. His hand comes back from her ass to push her shirt up a little and gently, his lips brush against the soft, smooth skin of her stomach in a kiss, light at first and then firmer. But he doesn't stop there. His hands starts fiddling with the button on her pants. With his teeth, he tugs down her zipper. Then both hands reach up, trying to peel her pants down around her hips a little.

Fuck, it's so hot. Lalo never does anything on anyone's terms but his, and now he's doing everything on hers and hers alone.

Edited 2024-04-20 21:40 (UTC)

In all the drama earlier with the fog and the pain, Chloe hadn't registered how warm the fire powers make Lalo, so he can probably feel her muscles jump in surprise under his mouth where it touches her bare skin. It feels nice, though, and she sighs, winding her fingers into his hair.

“There you go, that's good.”

His hands are working at the waist of her jeans now, and she has half a mind to make him beg for it, beg to serve her, as revenge for the stunt earlier. She’ll be nice, though. He's new at this, and he's been so obedient so far.

“Your mouth is so warm. Is that what you want to do for me, use your mouth?”

Lalo feels her jump, and grins just a little to himself, happy he could make her do that. It's nice to hear her sigh, too, and it gives Lalo a little ego boost, not that he needed it. But best of all are her fingers winding into his hair. That feels so good.

The praise is nice, too. He's surprised by how much he enjoys being told he's doing good. And when she says his mouth his warm.

Lalo forces himself to stop, and looks up at her again, leaning just a little into the touch of her hand tangling in his salt and pepper hair. He nods.

"Yes, Miss Chloe." A beat. "Is that what you want?" He is, after all, supposed to be doing this for her.

“Oh, good job, remembering to ask me that.” Chloe runs her hand through his hair, nearly drunk on the power over him that he's giving her. Sadly, this might not last very long at all.

She meets his eyes, keeps her voice gentle. “I’d like to see you make a mess of those fancy pyjamas while you eat your fill of me. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Lalo can't help himself. The praise fills his chest with warmth; he loves hearing that he did a good job. The hand playing with his hair is addictive and Lalo leans into the touch eagerly, just as he had before. Later, he'll be mortified that he let her take advantage of his weakness like that, but in the moment, it's pure bliss.

His eyes are slightly softened as he looks up at her. Her voice is a gentle coo; music to his ears. When she tells him, what she wants, he does feel a surprisingly potent sting of humiliation when she mentions his "fancy pajamas", reminded of what she saw earlier, but it's the hot kind of humiliation, not the confidence-destroying kind.

"Yeah. I can do that for you, Miss Chloe." She could have asked him to do anything at all, and he would have attempted it with gusto. His mouth forms a dopey smile.

Chloe can't get enough of that look on his face. So eager to please. She can feel her heart beating everywhere, like she might burst apart at the slightest provocation, but she's still in control.

“You’ve been so good so far. Why don't you show me what you can do?”

Lalo feels her hands winding through his hair; his eyes linger on the sharpness of her cheekbones, the swell of her breasts. For the moment, he's in Heaven. He's never given up this much control to a stranger before. It's exhilarating.

His eyes shine as he looks up at her, as eager to please as an evil golden retriever. His flush had blossomed all over his entire face now. One of his hands does reach to to squeeze her ass, almost affectionately.

He imagines what that ass must look like out of her clothes.

"Chloe," he asks, unintentionally forgetting to call her 'Miss'. Grinning. He takes his time building up to his question. "Can I carry you to my bedroom? I want to make you as comfortable as you deserve go be." Smooth, even if he does say so himself. Even from the bottom, Lalo likes to think he has charm. But he doesn't do anything. Not yet. Not until she gives him permission.

And if she wants to do it standing up in his living room, or laying on the couch, he'll do it that way too. Whatever she wants. She owns him, after all.

Ah, there it is. This guy hadn't seemed like the type who wouldn't at least try to wrest back a bit of power for himself.

Unfortunately for him, they're way past that now. Her hand tightens in his hair - not a yank, just a reminder of who’s in charge.

“Do a good enough job out here and I'll think about it.”

Lalo practically melts when he feels Chloe's grip on his hair tighten. He's so turned on, he can't even think straight; his mind is full of nothing but the sight, sound and smell of her.

"Yes, Miss Chloe." This time, he doesn't forget.

He does angle himself against the couch if she'll let him, since he thinks he might need some support. Then his warm lips - almost hot, from how flushed he is, and how warm he is naturally - start by pressing firm, gentle kisses against her skin just above the waistband of her panties.

One finger toys with the waistband for a few seconds, before he starts using both hands to slide her pants down around her hips, as much as he can in his current position. He looks up at her when he stops kissing briefly to tug her pants down. Pupils dilated. Eyes locked onto her like he's the only thing in his world, because right now, she is.

Chloe does let him move back against the sofa. The angle will give her even more control, and she likes the idea of being able to push him a little.

She does pause for a moment as she feels the warm skin of his hands against her bare thighs - is she really doing this? - but then he looks at her with those big glassy eyes full of desire and chases the doubts out of her mind.

“I'll take care of everything, don't worry.” Chloe reaches out to guide his head back against the cushion behind him, then runs one finger down the middle of his throat. “You look good like this.”

Too bad she won't get to see much of it. Chloe puts her hands over Lalo’s and moves them just a bit lower to give herself enough freedom of movement, then steps forward, over his mouth.

Lalo melts when she tells him he looks good like this. It's obvious. She can see it. His whole body just seems to collapse, but he looks unmistakably happy and full of desire. It's a good thing he's not the one standing up. His knees are weak.

Then he feels it. Her hands glide over his. And she positions herself over him, the musky scent of her engulfing his senses. He's really helpless. This is really real. It dawns on him. This is really happening. Lalo's heart pounds.

Lalo licks her through her panties. At first. Then tugs them down with his teeth. He łaps at her like a St. Bernard, eagerly. Like he can't get enough of her. Like he needs to drink his fill of her to survive, a dying man in the desert. Usually he'd start slow. Tease her. Warm her up. But that's not what this about. He licks her pussy lips, kisses around her clit, tongue fucks her...whatever she responds to, he does more of. What she doesn't like, he stops immediately.

He almost feels like he's being used, and he loves it. He's living for it. His cock is throbbing and painful, and he's desperate for more.

Chloe does note the happy way he melts in place at the praise, and she's kind of surprised anew that he’d said he's never tried this before. Guy’s a natural.

She tries to keep up the praise while he's working, but it's been so long since anyone aside from Chloe herself has touched her this way that all she can do is groan and try not to grind too hard into his face.

It's so intense - and he's so eager, he wants this so bad - that the climax takes her by surprise. She arches her back with a bit of an embarrassing shriek, every muscle seizing, then leans forward to stroke his hair through the aftershocks.

When she’s caught her breath a bit, she says, “You’re being so good for me,” in as warm a voice as she can manage, but doesn't move away.

The shriek gratifies him; fills him with happiness all the way down to his soul. More than that, it encourages him. He's never come without being touched at all before, but he's dribbling inside his pajama pants as he continues desperately, hungrily licking her folds, until suddenly that warm voice pushes him over the edge.

Lalo can't handle it.

His feels a jolt of pleasure that's almost supernatural in its intensity, and it's over way too soon, and he can feel something sticky and warm in his pants.

That's not all. There's a brief but dazzling display -- along the back of the couch, flames light up in a row, running all the way along the back in a line before quickly burning out just as fast. However, the charred track they leave behind in their wake is a testament to the fact that Chloe didn't imagine them.

Chloe rears back a bit in surprise at the sudden fire racing across her vision, as briefly as it lasts. Still hazy from her own orgasm, it takes her a second to connect the dots, but once she does she smiles lazily. Beautiful.

She pulls away enough to look him in the eye (and to survey how wrecked she’s left his face but at this point that's just a bonus) before saying, “Good boy, doing just what I told you. Are you still hungry?”

Chloe’d had high stamina before being dragged to this place, but now she feels like she could do this forever.

Lalo is an absolute wreck. The hairstyle he carefully maintains has come undone, and Lalo's hair is plastered to his forehead by sweat. His face is flushed, and her fluids glisten on his face.

His eyes, still adoring, are on her. Eyes wide and puppy-like. Tomorrow, he'll be mortified by the state of his couch, her cooing and praise redirect his attention to her and make him tingle all over happily. He feels warm and light, like he trusts her completely. He'll do anything she tells him. He's so glad she broke into his home - a thought crazy enough that even in his current state, Lalo is able to recognize it as the product of fuzzy-fuzzy, post-coital hormones, not representative of his real opinions.

"It's my honor, Miss Chloe." He drinks up the praise. In response to her question: Yes," he says breathlessly. He's more tired than she is, but not ready to call it quits yet. "Give me ten minutes." He's panting. Then, beginning to get some of his spunk back, he grins and reached out to try and tug more of her pats down. "Let me take these off for you. Your shirt, too. Then I'll carry you back there."

While he gives her his pitch, he pauses from trying to pull his pants down to beginning to pull his own pajamas off. They're soiled now, as a testament to her ability to command even the reflexes of his body.

Edited (I'm down to ftb on my next tag if you want!) 2024-04-25 06:48 (UTC)

Chloe smirks down at him. That's a lot of confidence from a guy breathing that hard, it sounds like she might have to carry him instead.

He's moving from tugging on her clothes to his own, and she steps back to give him more space to move, pulling her jeans up as she goes. He's probably getting pretty uncomfortable in those now.

“You’ll need to earn that,” she says, still smiling. “Show me how bad you want it and I’ll get you there.”

Lalo is in a happy, buzzy, gooey-on-the-inside mood. Perhaps one of the only people in Milton who's forgotten all about the green fog.

"Oh, I'll show you, Miss Chloe," Lalo says breathily, and he grins at her and winks. But the truth is, he's happy to earn the chance to show her how bad he wants her. He's happy to ask her permission before doing anything, in fact, even though his pajamas are getting uncomfortable.

With surprising quickness for a man whose legs still feel like Jell-o, Lalo stands up, scooping Chloe into his arms to carry her off to the bedroom.

((OOC: Fade-out there, y/n?))

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desperate_times_right - 2024-04-26 02:05 (UTC) - Expand

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A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

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cw: mild nsfw

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CW: LINK IS VERY NSFW, click at your own risk!

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