The four had been at the mall— nothing new, just a decision for a shopping spree. Edd had been blabbering about how he had saved enough to buy some expensive, noise-canceling headphones that he had been idolizing. Matt wanted to buy another mirror or two(or five). Tord mentioned buying some anime DVD's.

Tom didn't need anything, so his options were following one of the three; he chose Edd, of course.

The idea had been quickly shot down.

"You should go with Tord, actually."

"What?!" Tom had whined, not bothering to disguise his disgust. "He's probably going to get hentai or some shit!"

"I was going to get Sailor Moon, asshole. Anyway, I'm with Tom on this," Tord piped up.

Edd shrugged. "You guys suddenly started getting along again after the movie last week. I figured you two could try and keep the streak up."

Tord snorted while Tom blushed and his eyes widened, quietly muttering, "Lies."

"Listen, you two don't have a choice." Edd's tone was disapproving as his glare slid across the both of them. "We're meeting up at the food court. Do not split up."

With that, Edd turned around and stalked away, Matt hurrying off as well.

"Dicks," Tord grumbled, turning to Tom. "We're going to the top floor. Come."

The Norwegian was already moving before he finished his sentence, seemingly wanting to get it over with.

Tom silently agreed with the notion.

Tom's shoes pushed off the floor as he hurried to catch up to Tord.

There were a lot of people at the mall today— it was noticeable. The place was crowded, Tom almost losing Tord a couple of times. People were shouting or simply engaging in (very loud) conversations. A spike of anxiety hit Tom as he wondered if he was going to get separated from Tord.

He really didn't want to be left alone in the mall.

The thought made him rush forward even more, falling behind Tord— how did the Norwegian walk so fast, anyway?

He scowled as he stepped onto the escalator, barely finding room behind Tord as he thought, It's because of his stupidly long legs. Not that Tom was short or anything. (He was 5'7! That's not short, Edd! That's about average!) He discarded the thought a moment later, shaking his head gently.

Then, somebody stepped up beside him, and Tom let out a shuddering breath of panic as he glanced at Tord.

What if you lose him?

What if you get separated?

What if someone blocks you from him?

He reached out toward Tord's sweatshirt, only to twitch back in hesitation.

Ironically, Tord decided to look back right at that moment. He raised an eyebrow, Tom's face reddening as he attempted to pull his hand back.

The attempt was futile, of course. Tord grabbed his hand, tugging Tom gently up the escalator until they were on the same step.

Tom looked away from Tord's gaze, expecting the Norwegian to let go of his hand and start mocking him.

Instead, he squeezed Tom's hand as they stepped off the escalator.

Tom nervously glanced around, clutching Tord's hand a little tighter.

Somebody brushed past him, almost making him stumble backward. He shot a glare at the person, happy to feel irritation instead of panic rising in his throat. The person didn't look back, just continued on their path.

Tord began to rub his thumb soothingly across the base of Tom's hand. His shoulders relaxed just a tiny bit, less tense but still on alert.

"Don't worry."

Tom looked up at Tord, but the Norwegian wasn't looking at him.

"I won't let you get lost in here, okay?"

Tom's breathing slowed and only then did he realize the shallowness of his breaths.

Trust Tord, his mind yearned, the thought silently scratching against his skull, pleased with the silence and calming of his anxious thoughts.

"Okay," he whispered, forcing his shoulders and facial expression to relax.

Tord must have superhuman hearing or something because he squeezed Tom's hand in reassurance.

God.

Who knew he was so weak.

They were out of the hoard in a minute, Tom settling for a sigh of relief. He loosened his hand, Tord following suit as they slipped away from each other.

"Sorry. That was, uh... probably weird." He made sure not to meet Tord's gaze.

"It's fine."

Tom glanced back at the crowd of people as they entered the store.

The atmosphere immediately loosened; Britney Spears' 'Toxic' played and the walls were a dark gray. Not to mention, it wasn't very crowded(probably because it's a weeb store).

Tord motioned him over to the back of the store, and Tom followed but at a much slower pace. It smelled like fresh vanilla. He glanced at one of the Deadpool posters on sale, then to the headphones with cat ears on them. Was that a katana hanging on the wall?

What kind of store is this?

He glanced around and noticed that Tord was nowhere in sight. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

He was now alone in this store.

Well, that's what he thought.

Somebody grabbed his shoulder and Tom had a flare of panic, twisting around with wide eyes.

"Woah, calm down," cooed an overly sweet voice, which, frankly, made Tom more freaked out. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Alec."

Tom took a moment to look up and down at Alec, involuntarily scrunching up his nose. Alec was awkwardly tall and his voice was scratchy like he smoked a pack a day, but he smelled like asphalt.

Then again, he was probably being overly rude, so he forced his muscles to relax.

"I'm Tom, and it's okay," he replied, smiling up at Alec. The man's eyes brightened just a little too much at his response, but Tom mentally waved the thought off.

"Did your boyfriend ditch you or somethin'?" he asked, motioning over to the area Tord had disappeared to. His voice seemed dangerously low, but it was probably because he was a nice guy.

After a moment of processing, Tom realized who Alec was talking about, his face flushing. He snorted to cover up his embarrassment. "That guy? My boyfriend? No way," he said, mind flashing to his previous... events with the Norwegian.

Then, Alec purred out, "Good."

Yeah, Tom definitely felt uneasy around this guy. He took a step back.

Then again, all Alec was trying to do was make sure his 'boyfriend' wasn't being an asshole.

Rather than turning to find Tord like he should have, he let out a small laugh and said, "Yeah."

"So, if he's not your boyfriend, then how come you were holding hands?" Alec asked and Tom felt a flare of embarrassment.

Alec's eyes were boring into him, obviously angry, and Tom opened his mouth to respond, unsure of what to say.

"It's weird for two guys to hold hands when they're not together," Alec snapped and in between the embarrassment, Tom was confused because, why did he care? He only just met Tom. What was his problem?

Then, the warm feeling of an arm wrapped itself around his neck, dangling off his shoulders. He almost began to panic when Tord's smooth, accented voice made itself heard.

"Maybe you should mind your own damn business, Scott."

Tom glanced up at Tord and realized how pissed the Norwegian was. He then looked back at Alec— no, Scott.

What the fuck?

"Tord," Scott growled in his gravely voice, taking a step backward.

Tord leaned forward, careful to keep his arm around Tom, his voice merely a whisper as he said, "Thomas is mine. Get your dirty ass away from him."

Scott's eyes widened only to return to being narrowed. "Whatever. Have fun with the douchebag, Tom." With that, Scott turned tail and abandoned them, Tom letting out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

After a moment of (awkward) silence, Tom said, "What the hell?"

Tord sighed, not moving his arm from Tom's neck. "That was Scott. World-renowned pervert and, frankly, creepy as fuck. He'd probably fuck a blender if it was in this store. Stay away from him. He did the same exact thing when Edd tagged along."

Tom blinked. "Yeah, that sounds fair."

Tord tightened his grip around Tom, leaning down. The Norwegian's breath ghosted over Tom's ear as he said, "I was being serious, though. You belong to me. Don't let anybody else touch you."

It took a moment for Tom to register what happened, Tord already walking toward the cash register.

"Huh?"

_____

That had happened yesterday on Saturday. Today is Sunday, obviously, which meant Edd and Matt were out to get groceries. That usually means it's time for his weekly fuck, but...

Tord hadn't made any moves and Tom was irritated. Irritated and in anticipation. Especially after how hot Tord acted yesterday— who knew possessiveness could be so sexy?

He let out an annoyed sigh as he rolled off the bed, stretching his arms. If Tord wasn't going to please him, he might as well get drunk. Well, that and he was going to (try and) tease the Norwegian.

He needed his weekly fix; withdrawals aren't nice.

Opening his door, the sound of the television made itself heard. He rolled his eyes, stepping out of his room and down the hallway. Just as he always did, Tord was watching another documentary.

He pushed himself out into the living room. Tord's head snapped up to attention, and Tom perked his eyebrows up just a little as he glanced at the Norwegian. Then, he turned his head back toward the kitchen. He was still watching Tord, however, as he silently thanked his mother for giving him his black eyes.

Tord's stare cut though Tom's defenses as he fought off goosebumps. He forced himself to focus on his feet hitting the carpet and not Tord's burning gaze.

When his feet touched cool tile, he knew he was free from Tord's insistent staring. He saw his newfound freedom as a chance to relax. Muscles slowly unwinding, he let out a yawn. He reached for the flask that was in his sweatshirt pocket as always, then toward the cabinet. He opened it, grasping an open Smirnoff bottle. He set it down on the counter, flask still held loosely in his hand.

Said object clattered against the floor a second later as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around Tom's waist, forcing him to jump as a result.

"Calm down, my little spitfire," Tord purred in his ear, flushing their bodies together.

"The hell do you want?" he said back, placing his hands on Tord's arms.

"You're very eager today, yes?" he asked, removing his arms as he turned Tom around.

"I'm no such thing," Tom replied with a shrug.

"Oh, my love, I beg to differ," he teased, pushing their bodies together once again.

Now trapped in between Tord and the counter, he bit back, "Is this some kinky medieval role play shit?"

"Well, I don't know, but I think hearing you scream 'master' would be pretty nice."

"Oh my god, shut up!"

Tom's face was burning as Tord laughed at him, the Norwegian throwing his head up as his shoulders shook.

Tom let out a huff as the laughter ceased. "Are you done mocking me?" he growled, glaring at the asshole that trapped him.

"Why are you so eager today, hmm?" Tord purred, pressing his crotch against Tom's, forcing a little gasp to escape.

Hoping Tord didn't hear the noise, he spoke. "It's no fun to force your partner into a withdrawal."

Tord let out a little snicker. "Does that mean you're addicted to me?" he asked, pressing a kiss against the corner of Tom's lips.

"It's not nice to put words in my mouth," he replied dryly, only to feel Tord's mouth gently trace against his jawline.

"Then can I replace the words with my tongue?"

Tom let out a sputter of incoherent words as Tord threw his head back, laughing. "That was just about the stupidest thing you've ever said!" Tom said the moment after his embarrassment died down, letting out a laugh himself.

"Well, on a more serious topic... I want you to do me a favor."

Tom tilted his head. "Your favors usually involve embarrassing me."

Tord let out a husky laugh that sent shivers down Tom's spine. "This time is no exception."

He sneered at the delightful response. "That's not very comforting," he replied, looking up at Tord's smug face.

Tord ignored him, leaning forward so their lips were mere centimeters apart. "Let me tie you up."

He froze. "...what?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Tord backed up just a bit so he could bring his intense stare toward Tom, the Brit immediately looking away. "I want to tie you up so I can have my way with you," Tord cooed, bringing up his hand to grab Tom's chin. "Would you let me do that, my little spitfire?"

"I— uhm— what the hell would I get out of this?" he asked as Tord titled his chin to face forward. Tom's face began to burn even harder as he met Tord's gaze.

"Pleasure?" Tord leaned back toward Tom's ear. "A good fuck? That's what started this all, didn't it?"

Tom shuddered involuntarily, letting out a huff. "Let's just get this shit over with."

Tord grinned. "Good choice, Thomas."

"Don't call me that."

Letting out a chuckle, Tord grabbed Tom's hand as he backed up. "Let's go. I have rope back in my room."

The Norwegian tugged on Tom's hand, the latter letting out a deep sigh. "Anything I should know beforehand?" he asked as Tord led him through the house's rooms.

"Well... have you ever been tied up before?"

Tom blinked, thinking back to a previous girlfriend. "Once or twice, yeah," he admitted, shrugging gently.

Tord shot him a glare and it took Tom all but a few seconds to realize it was full of possessiveness. "Really?" he asked curtly.

Tom perked his eyebrows, a hint of smugness entering his voice as he said, "Are you jealous?"

Tord scoffed. "My 'jealousy' will only contribute to how I treat you," he said in a low, gravely voice, his grip tightening.

"Is that a threat?"

"Only if you want it to be."

Tilting his head to the side, Tom curiously watched Tord. "You're being unnecessarily vague."

"Is that so?" Tord said, sounding far away. Despite his apparent bored attitude, he began to squeeze Tom's wrist tighter and tighter.

Tom cringed in pain. "T-Tord, you're hurting my wrist," he hissed, tugging his hand back.

The Norwegian turned back at him and blinked, slowly loosening his grip before sliding his hand away. Tom gripped the bruising skin lightly. "Sorry."

The air hung heavy around them as Tord opened the door to his room. Tom felt his heartbeat quicken as he realized why he was here.

He had agreed to let Tord tie him up.

He had agreed to let Tord take control of him.

What the fuck did he agree to and why?

Closing the door behind him, Tom glanced around the familiar room. He furrowed his eyebrows at the thought, grabbing his bare arm. He shouldn't be familiar with the Norwegian's room at all.

Tord's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Strip."

The room went still.

"What?" he asked after a moment of silence.

The Norwegian exited his closet holding thin rope, an irritated look on his face. "Ya know, strip? Like, take all of your clothes off? Are you deaf?"

Tom tensed in irritation. "Don't be such an ass. What's your damage?" he hissed as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"I'm angry because I wanted to be your first for everything," Tord growled, not facing Tom. "It's unfortunate for you that it's not the case."

Tom pulled his jeans and briefs down, letting out a huff of annoyance. "Surely you couldn't have thought..." Tom trailed off as he gripped the hem of his shirt.

Tord turned around at the sudden silence.

Tom had his eyebrows raised a bit, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Well? Are you gonna take that shirt off or what?" Tord tossed the rope on the bed, arms crossed. Tom bunched up his shoulders more, refusing to meet Tord's gaze.

Tord let out a deep sigh, walking forward as Tom scrunched up even further, eyes closing.

"Tom."

"Do I... do I have to?" he asked, squeezing his shirt.

"Look at me," Tord rumbled, gently grasping Tom's chin and forcing it up.

Tom very slightly opened his eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

"You can't hide that pretty little body from me forever, you know," he murmured, pressing a kiss against Tom's forehead.

"Fine." He took a step back, escaping Tord's grip. He pulled his shirt off in a quick motion.

Tord grabbed Tom's already bruised wrist, forcing him closer. "See?" he purred, releasing the wrist. "What a pretty little body." He ran his left hand up Tom's waist, his other on Tom's cock.

"Stop talking," he huffed, one arm covering his chest, the other on Tord's shoulder. His face was red, eyebrows furrowed from pure embarrassment.

Tord cocked his head to the left, grin wide. He moved his hand up from Tom's waist to his hair, running his fingers through it. "I'm afraid you'd have to pay for my silence," Tord joked before pressing his lips onto Tom.

Then, Tom was released.

"Alright, now sit down, criss-cross apple sauce," Tord ordered nonchalantly.

Tom snickered. "What are we, in kindergarten?" he asked jokingly, though he did as he was told.

"Ageplay is far too kinky, even for me," Tord replied, turning around.

Rolling his eyes, Tom let out a soft sigh.

"Arms behind your back," Tord said as he grabbed the rope. Tom narrowed his eyes, forcing his arms to cross behind his back. He cringed, already feeling a soft ache. This would be a bitch to deal with in the morning.

Tord walked behind Tom, the Brit following him with his eyes, head moving until it was stuck in place. Tord crouched down, not meeting his eyes as he roughly grabbed Tom's wrist, causing him to wince. Harsh rope dug into his wrists as Tord pulled. Tom furrowed as he attempted to watch what Tord was doing, his neck ultimately failing him.

Tord pulled away, looking smug. "Try and escape."

Tom squinted, attempting to tug his hands apart. Instead of doing what he had attempted, his hands rubbed against the harsh material, refusing to spread.

"Good," Tord purred, tracing Tom's shoulder blade with a finger. Tom shivered at the cold finger, naturally retracting. Tord let out a low chuckle before standing up and practically skipping back in front of him.

"You're enjoying yourself way too much," Tom said dryly as Tord sat down on his knees.

"Well, you don't seem to be hating this too much," Tord responded, voice full of snark as he gripped Tom's ankle. He roughly pulled it on top of Tom's knee. "Stay," he ordered, voice thick with his accent. 

Tom would never admit it, but Tord's accent was hot as fuck.

Seriously! It's impossible to understand how hot and bothered he got when Tord spoke commands or talked dirty.

Before he could continue on his mini-rant, the Norwegian returned with more rope. Well, returned is the wrong word, considering he had only walked to the bed and back.

He sat down in the position he was before, pulling Tom's leg up as he wrapped the rope and Tom's ankle and leg. The two end pieces were tied into a knot quickly. Christ, Tord was good at this. Frankly, that scared Tom.

With the other piece of rope, he pressed Tom's knee against his foot. That was tied up quickly, too.

"There we go. All nice and tied up," Tord teased as he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on top of his forehead.

"You're done?" Tom asked, a hint of disgust in his voice. Well, the disgust might've been because his cock already stood at full attention, begging to be touched.

Tord's smirk slowly morphed into a smug grin. "Not quite yet," he purred, standing up. Tom narrowed his eyes as Tord bounced to his stupid drawer. Tom already knew what he was going to pull out. The Norwegian pulled out the drawer, and Tom was right— he had the stupid red box in his hands.

That thing showed up in his nightmares.

The red box was tossed onto the
bed, Tord quickly forcing it open. Christ, that thing was the bane of his existence. Tord pulled out something that looked... strangely familiar.

He focused on it.

It... it was a fucking cock ring. A pink cock ring.

Tord turned around with a cheerful grin.

"Judging by the look on your face, I'm gonna guess you know what this is." Tord walked forward, crouching down in front of Tom.

"All too well," Tom replied, closing his eyes in annoyance.

Tord let out a low chuckle. Rather than putting it on him like Tom thought he would, Tord turned back and tossed it onto the bed. When he turned back to Tom, the Brit's eyebrows were raised in slight confusion.

He did nothing to explain himself, of course.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Tord purred, dragging his fingers across Tom's chest.

"I'm not," Tom said, punctuated with a sigh.

Tord snickered before backing up, a smug grin on his face. Then, his face suddenly snapped, eyebrows creased in concern. "For once, Tom, I'm being serious— if you need me to stop, say brownie. If you need me to slow down, say honey. I don't want to over step your boundaries."

Tom blinked, tilting his head slightly. He soaked in the few seconds of silence before murmuring a quiet, "Okay."

Tord reached over and ran his fingers through Tom's hair, a soft smile on his face. He gave Tom's forehead a little kiss before standing. Practically trotting toward his nightstand, Tord grabbed the back of his hoodie and tugged it and his shirt off. Tom's gut churned with heat as he watched the Norwegian, eyes tracing over the muscles.

"Oh, Thomas," he purred excitedly, reaching into the still open nightstand.

"What?" he said spitefully, despite shiver that ran up his spine at the sound of Tord saying his name.

Tord twirled around with that stupid bottle of lube in his hand. "Are you ready to have some fun?" he teased, bouncing forward as he stared directly into Tom's eyes.

Unable to handle the eye contact, Tom turned his head away. "Whatever."

Tom let out a little gasp as Tord grabbed his hair and yanked, his head tingling. "It's not nice of you to turn away," he growled, giving Tom's head another pull.

Defeated, Tom looked up at Tord's power-hungry expression. Honest to god, he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare and arouse him. Being in such a vulnerable position with a guy like Tord towering over him... it's a heated thought. It made him intoxicated with lust.

He could feel his own face burning, tugging at the restraints. Eyebrows pushed upward, he tried to ignore the rush of embarrassment that was caused by Tord's intimidating stare.

"Are you done with your little bitch fit?" he snapped, giving Tom's hair a final tug before letting go. Tom narrowed his eyes, finally out of that ridiculous trance Tord put him in.

"Are you done with being an asshole?" Tom shot back as Tord placed the lube on the ground.

Tord reached over and ghosted his fingers over Tom's Adam's apple, a smug grin on his face. "If you don't put away that attitude, your pretty little neck will be my next toy." He placed his hand on Tom's neck, giving it a small, painless squeeze in warning.

Tom visibly swallowed, keeping his mouth shut.

Sliding his hand away, Tord let out a husky laugh. "You can be so adorable sometimes," he said, casually walking behind Tom.

"Really?" Tom asked shakily, tone deadpan, not bothering to follow Tord's movements.

The floor creaked and there was a moment of silence. Then, a pair of hands wrapped around his uncovered waist and a chin relaxed onto his shoulder. "You have no idea." Tom shivered slightly against Tord's touch as the Norwegian gently dragged his teeth across Tom's neck. "I've practically dreamt about doing this to you." He dragged his blunt nails up Tom's chest.

"Oh?" Tom replied, urging Tord to continue as the Norwegian placed gentle kisses against Tom's skin.

Sliding his nails lower and lower, Tord let out a soft hum. "Having you all tied up, completely vulnerable like this? It's a sight only for me," he purred, hand finding Tom's cock.

Tom let out a little gasp, pushing his hips into the touch. The hand immediately retreated.

"Now, now, Thomas— if you can't control yourself, I can't have any fun."

Tom scoffed gently. "You're sadistic."

"But you're masochistic, are you not?" Tord placed his hands against Tom's inner thighs, resting his head in the crook of Tom's neck.

Tom snuffed. "You could at least try and deny i— oh, fuck!" he hissed as Tord dug his nails into Tom's thighs, dragging them upward. He looked down at the now red marks, huffing in irritation. "You could've given me a warning, ya know."

"Warnings are for good boys," Tord replied, gently dragging his teeth across Tom's shoulder. "Which you are not being."

"Don't be such an ass," Tom snarled back, only to snap his mouth closed when Tord sunk his teeth into his skin. Tom's back arched as he bit his lip, sucking in a sharp breath.

When Tord removed his teeth, he pressed a gentle kiss against the bleeding wound. "You need to learn how to behave." He dragged his fingers up Tom's stomach, earning a little gasp from him.

"Fuck you," he snapped, only to scrunch up as Tord pushed his nails into Tom's abdomen. He squirmed gently from the touch as though he was trying to escape his restraints, pressing his lips together to prevent noise from escaping his mouth.

Tord let out a husky laugh, flicking Tom's cock gently. "You're hard," he mumbled, grabbing Tom's waist and pulling the Brit onto his lap.

"Congratulations, you have eyes," Tom mocked. He didn't fight against the grip, shuffling uncomfortably.

Tord reached to grab Tom's cock, giving it a couple pumps. Tom squirmed and let out a quiet whine under the warm touch. Tord's smirk pressed against his back as the hand retracted.

"Damnit, Tord," he muttered as the Norwegian let out a smooth chuckle. Then, he suddenly began to grind up against Tom. Tom let out a breathy gasp at the contact, immediately pushing back.

"Good boy," Tord purred, sending a shiver up Tom's spine.

Jesus. It was just a couple of words. How pathetic of him to derive pleasure from them.

Tord grabbed his hips and lifted Tom up slightly, shifting out of the way. Tom turned around as he was placed back on the ground, watching hungrily as Tord unzipped his jeans. Biting his lip, he rolled his hips into thin air as the Norwegian pulled his jeans down, revealing his cock.

Christ, he could memorize that thing.

Tord reached over and grabbed the lube, seeming unaware of the insistent staring from Tom. He placed the bottle by his side, turning back to Tom. He perked an eyebrow when he noticed Tom staring, grabbing the Brit by his love handles and pulling him closer, placing his knees under Tom's bare skin. Now, he was vaguely lifted, enough for Tord to get inside him, at least.

Tord casually coated his fingers with lube with a lazy grin. Turning back to Tom, the Norwegian gave his shoulder a little kiss. Then, he pressed three fingers inside of him.

Tom let out a little gasp; definitely wasn't expecting that much at once. He rolled his hips back into the touch.

"You know, I don't even need to do this anymore," Tord hummed, dragging his nails against Tom's back. "You're getting loose. You're getting used to me." Tord spread his fingers inside of Tom, eliciting a noise from the Brit.

"What does- what does that mean?" he growled. When Tord dug his fingers into Tom's sweet spot, his resolve immediately weakened, letting out a soft whimper.

"Oh, it wasn't an insult," Tord promised, resting his head on Tom's shoulder. "I've just fucked you so much, you've grown used to me."

"Fuck you," he hissed, struggling in his restraints.

"Was that a demand or an idiom?"

"...yes," he replied, grinding down onto the fingers. Tord huffed with laughter, Tom inhaling sharply.

Tord pulled his fingers out of Tom, earning a soft whimper of displeasure.

He expected to have Tord's thick cock spreading him open, but that feeling never happened. In fact, Tord moved away from Tom, the Brit gently placed back on the floor.

"Tord?" he said, following Tord with his eyes as he walked in front of Tom.

"Yes?" Tord purred playfully, face full of malice. Tom narrowed his eyes, but remained unblinking. Tord moved forward, his cock almost pressing against Tom's lips. What the hell is with the communist and blowjobs?

"You're a dick," he spat, but opened his mouth nonetheless. Tord's face rippled into an evil grin, shifting to press his cock against Tom's lips.

He gently placed his mouth around the head, swirling his tongue around it. Tord let out a low groan, spurring him forward. He let about half of Tord's cock slide down his throat, pausing for a break, until Tord gripped his hair and pushed Tom forward. He began to gag, attempting to pull back.

Tord continued to hold on his head in place, despite Tom's consistent squirming.

When he finally stopped struggling, Tord let out a low laugh. Tom furrowed his eyebrows — he still wasn't the best at deep throating, considering he had only done it once before.

Before he could do anything, Tord pulled Tom's head back. He was expecting Tord to completely release him, but it seemed like the Norwegian had different ideas. He snapped his hips and dug his cock into Tom's mouth. Tom began to hum gently, watching as Tord shivered in pleasure.

"You like being face-fucked, don't you, slut?" Tord purred. Tom's stomach dropped from pure excitement.

Wow, that's... that's really dumb. He really did not want to believe he thought it was hot to be called 'slut'.

Finally, Tord removed his cock from Tom's throat, watching as a coughing fit seized the Brit's body.

Once Tom had gotten his breath back, he looked up and glared at Tord. "You're far too big to shove your dick down my throat without warning," he growled, though his voice was far too scratchy to be intimidating. Tord scoffed, pulling his jeans and boxers off of him, kicking them to the side.

"Was that a compliment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Tom scoffed, watching as the Norwegian turned around.

"You wish I would compliment you," he replied, following Tord with his eyes as the Norwegian reached to grab something from the bed.

Wait.

Fuck. Tom knew exactly what it was.

Tord turned around, a sly grin on his face, holding up that ridiculous fucking cock ring.

Tom let out a whiny hum, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.

Lifting an eyebrow, Tord stifled a laugh. "That was adorable," he commented as he returned to Tom, crouching down.

Tom practically hissed, watching as Tord slid the cock ring on. Once it was fit firmly, the Norwegian pulled back with a grin.

"You're just the cutest thing ever, all tied up like this," Tord purred, grabbing Tom's chin and pulling his head closer.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I'm not cute," he snapped, glaring at Tord. The Norwegian leaned in closed until his mouth was positioned right next to Tom's ear.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're just adorable," Tord cooed, tracing Tom's bottom lip with his thumb. A shiver ran up Tom's spine at the feeling, retracting from the touch. "I have a request, Thomas," Tord said with a hum as he ghosted his fingers down to Tom's neck.

"And what may that be?" Tom asked dryly, tilting his head to expose his neck to to Tord's touch.

Tord grabbed Tom and turned him around, pulling the Brit into his lap. How he managed to do that, Tom didn't know. Tom was 165 pounds, after all — Tord must be pretty strong. With his defined muscles, though, it wasn't all that hard to believe.

Tom shivered at the feeling of Tord's lips gently gliding across his neck. "Let me paint your neck purple," he requested, trailing his fingers up Tom's spine.

What? Tord already gave him two or three hickeys when they were just having regular sex— so why was he asking now?

Unless... maybe he wanted to completely cover Tom's neck in hickeys.

Christ. Could he handle that?

"Tom?" Tord asked with a hum, breaking Tom's train of thoughts.

Tom let out a deep sigh. "Fine," he muttered, "just don't make me regret it."

Tord smirked against Tom's skin, slowly kissing his neck. He trailed down Tom's neck, only to drag his sharp canines against the area where Tom's neck connected into his shoulder.

The Brit's back arched as Tord bit into his skin, a sharp gasp escaping him. Pain sparked in the muscle, sending a hot wave of fire over him.

When he was released, Tord let out a low laugh, littering the poor boy with red marks. Tord wrapped his hands around Tom's waist, flushing their skin together. As Tord bit down once more, Tom let out soft whimper and reached down to grip the Norwegian's hands.

Tord pulled away, chuckling as he intertwined their fingers. "You like the pain, don't you?" he purred, kissing the now bleeding marks. "You dirty little whore."

Tom's stomach jumped in pleasure as he sucked in a tight breath. "Fuck you," he grumbled as Tord continued to kiss Tom's neck, all tongue and lips after the harsh nip.

He was rubbing the base of Tom's hand, smiling with delight. "You just want to be filled with a thick cock, don't you?"

Tom scoffed and began to grind down against Tord, a smirk crossing his face when the Norwegian let out a gasp of pleasure. "You just want to be inside me, don't you?" he mocked, only to bite his lip.

He definitely wasn't expecting a hand in his hair, roughly pulling his head to the side, followed by teeth pushing into his skin and holy fucking shit, that hurt.

"Shit, Tord," Tom growled out when Tord's excessively sharp teeth were pulled out of his skin, the Norwegian already returning to his previous goal. He was terrified of looking at himself when this was over. He'd probably look like a damn plum!

Tom shivered when Tord's breath ghosted over his skin. "Learn your place, Thomas," he growled, digging his nails into Tom's waist.

Tom bit his lip, refusing to say anything to Tord. The Norwegian huffed angrily, yet he continued to press his kisses into Tom's neck.

As Tord slowly made his way up to Tom's neck, the Brit sighed.

"You're purposely being slow, aren't you?" he asked dryly.

"Yep," Tord resounded cheerfully,

"You're a bitch."

"Maybe so, but you're my bitch."

Tom snorted. "Enough of the jokes, you're ruining the moment. Just fuck me already, would ya?"

Tord's lips froze on Tom's neck. "Was that a hint of begging I heard?" He moved his hand, hovering over Tom's cock before slightly rubbing his thumb across the slit.

"Oh, my god, you kinky asshole. Yes!" he hissed, sucking in a breath.

He was on fire. Sweat dripped off of his skin, his stomach warm with lust. Every nerve in his body was begging for release, but Tord refused to fuck him.

Tord didn't respond, rubbing circles across the tip of Tom's cock. He continued to kiss Tom's neck gently. Slowly.

"Tord, please," he whined quietly, rocking his hips into Tord's touch.

Tord had an undeniable grin on his face. Tom's voice sounded so lovely, cracked and shaking. He gently moved his other hand from Tom's waist to Tom's chin, tracing the Brit's lips with his thumb. He was breaking Tom's will and god, was it hot. He licked his lips before breathing out a quiet, "Louder."

Tom shivered at the feeling of Tord's thumb, quietly cursing at how sensitive his lips were. Fucking google it if you think he's being unrealistic. Personally, he wanted to punch Tord, but that probably wouldn't help him out.

Fucking hell.

"Please," he whimpered, "Tord, I—" His words got caught in his throat, embarrassment coursing through his veins. 

He ached for some form of release— anything to end the onslaught of need. Part of him was ready to break, to release a side of him that Tord would hold over his head forever. So, he knew he'd have to bring himself to a new low.

"I need your cock," he pleaded, voice sweet and quiet, biting at his lip.

Tord's eyes and grin widened in pure delight. For a moment, he debated on making Tom beg even more, but Christ, that would be cruel, even for him. Poor Tom looked like he was on the verge of crying.

Not to mention, Tord hadn't completely trained Tom yet. The Brit was one of the hardest toys he had the pleasure of breaking.

He stood, moving to his nightstand, opening it.

"Tord?" Tom said meekly, sounded oh, so beautiful and weak.

"One second, baby, and then I'll fuck you," he promised, pulling out a knife. No, he wasn't going to cut the boy. That would be cruel and abusive.

"Hurry," Tom begged as Tord turned around, returning to the Brit and sitting on his knees. He quickly cut the rope off of Tom's legs, a smug smile sneaking up his face when he saw the beautiful rope burns. He tossed the rope away, sliding the knife under his bed so they wouldn't step on it after they were done.

When he looked back at Tom, the Brit had his legs spread open, panting. Tord bit his lip at the sight. "On your knees," he ordered. When Tom gave him an unsure glance, he grabbed Tom's hair and pulled back slightly. "Now."

Tom did as he was told, not having the energy to fight back. Tord has managed to keep his hand in Tom's hair the whole time, shoving the poor Brit's face into the carpet. No words were exchanged as Tord grabbed the lube, somehow managing to squirt some onto his hand whilst the other was holding Tom down. He quickly rubbed it against his cock, letting out a breathy noise as he did so.

Then, he shifted, wiping the rest of the lube against the rim of Tom's hole.

"W-wait, aren't you going to untie my hands first?" Tom asked, slightly struggling because his face was pushed against the carpet. "And what about the cock ring?"

"You look far too pretty for me to do that," Tord responded with a grin, pressing the tip of his cock against Tom's hole. "And I think I'll keep that on for just a little bit longer."

"W-wa—" Tom cut himself off with a moan as Tord slid inside him, unable to do anything but roll his hips against Tord.

Tord only paused for a moment before setting a normal pace, a grin on his face.

Tom was breaking. Slowly, yes, but he was. Tord couldn't help the excitement flowing through his veins at the thought of Tom begging for more under him.

That was the main thing he wanted out of this whole experience—

To make Tom, his enemy, the man he's despised since the beginning, beg for Tord to fuck, whip, hit him— God, he wanted Tom to want Tord to hurt him.

Christ, he really was a sadist.

Tom's walls were clenched around his cock, forcing Tord to let out a groan of pleasure, speeding up his thrusts.

"God, you're such a whore," he growled, pushing Tom's face further into the carpet, lips twitching.

He loved how cute Tom was. Everybody thought the Brit was nothing more than the loner act he put on, but Tord knew. Tord knew there was much, much more.

"Tell me what you are," he ordered, eyes widening with malicious intent.

Part of him wanted Tom to stay quiet. It'd give him an excuse to punish the Brit.

Yet, another part wanted Tom to obey— he wanted Tom to understand that Tord was above him.

"Tell me what you are," he repeated, speeding up his thrusts as he watched Tom, no doubt enjoying this.

"A whore," Tom whined out, eyes closing. He looked so pathetic beneath Tord; his face burned red, mouth open as he panted desperately. It all made Tord so very warm.

Tord dragged his other hand down Tom's waist. "Good boy," he purred, leaning down slightly to find Tom's cock. He slid off the ring, watching as Tom arched his back and let out a gasp.

"Thank you," he whined. Tord bit his lip, jacking Tom off as he rammed into the poor boy. "T-Tord, I'm gonna come."

Tord sneered, removing his hand from Tom's cock. "No," he growled, sliding his hand to Tom's back.

"Wh-what? Why n...not?" Tom asked in between moaning, tears sliding down his cheeks. He let out a delightful gasp as Tord raked his nails down the Brit's back.

"You can't come until I do."

Tom whined out something unintelligible as Tord watched him. He couldn't help but love how adorable Tom looked beneath him. Tom was covered in sweat and tears, his shoulders, ears, and face flushed a deep red. His eyebrows were pushed up his forehead, half of his face pushed against the carpet.

They were fucking on the floor like animals, and Tord loved it.

He loved how Tom's walls clenched around him, the tightness forcing a groan out of him. He loved how Tom's hair felt in his hand, each strand rubbing against his palm as he pushed Tom down. He loved how his nails made red marks down Tom's back. He loved how Tom looked under him.

Christ, he loved—

Before he could finish the thought, he shoved himself as far into Tom as he could, spilling his load inside of the Brit.

"Please, you've came," Tom cried, Tord blinking as he looked down.

Tears were streaming down Tom's face, and Tord couldn't help but feel pity at the torture he was subjecting Tom to. So, he slid out of Tom, breaths sharp.

"On your back," he ordered rather gruffly, backing away from Tom, hand slipping out of the Brit's hair.

Tom did as he was told, but Tord could tell he was struggling. Scoffing, he lifted Tom slightly, giving him a perfect view of the poor, poor boy.

He let his hand run down Tom's chest, stomach, stopping at the boy's lower abdomen.

Tom whimpered out Tord's name and Tord's name alone, causing Tord to blink in surprise. Tom had never moaned out his name, and god, was it hot to hear.

"Well, I guess I can give you what you want," he purred, his hand on Tom's cock. His other hand went to Tom's hole, slipping three fingers inside of the Brit.

Tom whined as Tord jacked him off and fingered him, shoulders scrunching up.

Then, he came in Tord's hand, gasping for breath.

Tord released Tom, standing. He moved over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue and wiping his hands off. When he turned back around to face Tom, the boy was still laying on the ground, panting desperately with his eyes closed. Tord grinned, scrunching up the tissue and throwing it into his wastebasket.

He crouched down next to Tom, reaching for the knife under his bed. "Sit up."

Tom did so, but rather slowly. He didn't say anything as Tord cut the rope, sliding the material off Tom.

He stood once more, grabbing the cock ring. He placed the knife on the nightstand, grabbed another tissue, and put the cock ring on the tissue and put it next to the knife.

Ugh.

He grabbed the red box next, opened his nightstand and sliding it inside, letting out a deep sigh.

When he turned around once more, he expected Tom to be gone. However, the Brit was still on the ground, panting.

Tord felt something that made him somewhat sick. He felt... worry.

Gross.

He moved back over to Tom, getting on his knees and wrapping his arms around Tom's waist, smiling when the Brit jumped.

He placed his head on Tom's shoulder. "You alright, Thomas?"

Tom nodded; no verbal response, apparently.

Tord pursed his lips slight, eyebrows creasing in concern. Perhaps he had gone too fast; after all, he was Tom's first. So, he asked, "Was it too much?"

"No. Just... tiring." Tom shook his head.

Tord chuckled. He slipped one hand away from Tom, reaching over and hooking his arm under Tom's knees, the Brit letting out a noise of protest.

Then, Tord stood, Tom hurriedly wrapping his arms around Tord's neck so he wouldn't fall.

"I can walk!" Tom protested as Tord moved over to his bed.

"No, you can't," he disagreed, moving over the blankets before placing Tom down. The Brit quickly scrambled into a sitting position as Tord joined him, pulling the blankets over them. "Stop being a little bitch and calm down," he growled as Tom glared at him.

Then, the Brit sighed, eyes closing. "Just for a couple of minutes," he grumbled, laying back down.

Tord scoffed, pulling Tom closer as he wrapped a hand around Tom's neck. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, opening it with one hand. He sent Edd a quick text.

'When are you coming home?'

When he took a glance at Tom, the poor boy was fast asleep. Tord's heart fluttered at the sight, smiling softly.

Oh, how adorable Tom looked in his arms. So sweet, eyes closed and a kind look on his face.

Tord couldn't understand why he found Tom so cute. It was weird.

He remembered how protective he had gotten with Tom after Scott tried to talk to him. He should've expected it; Scott had cornered Edd and questioned the brunet as well. After Tord beat the shit out of Scott for... certain reasons, the little bitch went after anyone who entered the store with Tord.

Shit. He was getting off track.

The point is, he had gotten so... protective with Tom. He felt the urge to protect and care for Tom.

He had never been concerned for one of his toys before. It made him sick.

Nonetheless, he did worry for Tom. He worried for the boy far too much.

Then, his phone vibrated with a text.

'Matt and I went out to lunch, so give us. like. an hour.'

Tord sighed, taking a glance at Tom.

He'd wake Tom up in twenty minutes. That should give Tom enough time to get up and dressed before Edd and Matt returned home.

________________________

finally got this fuckin chapter done,,, i know, i know, all y'all are probably like, "what the fuck inhumane it's been like four fuckin months"

and my answer???

uh. i don't really have one.

okay but give me a break,,, this chapter is over 7,000 words okay???

and i've been like. super busy with school. and i have almost zero motivation b/c my health, mental and physical, has just. gone down the drain *dab*

and it's hella hard to write smut. which is weird b/c that's what i always right but guys, c'mon. i am a teenage asexual girl. g i v e m e a b r e a k .

but! i have been writing with a chick i call peaches, y'all should check her out at Blue-Toffee

she's my platonic wife and i love her <3

yeah that's it, i don't think i had anything else to add. just remember, tentacles are next, and feel free to write a comment if you're up to it, because they make my day.

shi, out.

p.s. two more things. i'm sorry for the fucked up spacing on this, i copy pasted it from a document and i really don't feel like fixing it. also, i really hope this was up to the person who asked for orgasm denial's standards??? i've never written it before,,, i'm sorry