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#down-astronomical
saltymongoose · 2 years
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Finally it's the not awaited time that i talk about hofnarr (hopefully thats how you write his dumb name)
He is just as obsessed as everyone else but he tries to hide it VERY hard (he is not doing a good job at that). He buys everything that the other nexus workers make about the player and his room is like 99% about the player and like 2 things about slaughter time (he needed to take a lot of things off of his room to make space for all his money spending on player "merch")
And what kills him once they meet? Well everything from the feeling of their bright eyes on him, their shorter stature (which they complained about since informing him of their expectancy of him being at least a little bit shorter than them. How wrong they were) their presence alone had him holding back from giggling like a highschool girl. But especially when they decided to lean on him and just stay there against him, tugging lightly on his lab coat. Usually like this:
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(Guess who is next (totally absolutely never could ever be sanford oh I'd never specifically choose the people who i feel others dont obsess over enough oh never))
AAA Hofnarr content, I love to see it haha. :D He's so sweet, and it's honestly really funny to have an accurate visual showing how much bigger he would be than the Player (cause he seems so meek in the game). One of the more lowkey yanderes by far, if only because he tries so hard to hide it. Some of the Nexus personnel who sell merch of you might just think he's a loyal customer of theirs and buys all their stuff just to support their business (he was nice like that).
However, in reality, the scientist harbored a bit of a crush on you; a deep-seated admiration that stemmed from how much he liked your kindness and general goodwill. You were so genuinely nice, especially compared to everyone else in Nevada, and you helped them so much that it'd be impossible not to like you (in his opinion, anyway). He's quite the fanboy, hence all the merchandise; he just wants something that reminds him of you to be everywhere around him, from the keychain he keeps in his pocket to the prints he has framed and put up in his living space.
Is it an obsession? Perhaps somewhat, he'll admit that much. But as far as he knows, this is just what love for you is like. He's utterly infatuated with you, and he views his more...excessive behaviors with you to be normal since he can't recall loving anyone as much. It made complete sense that an elevated level of affection would lead to an elevation in the level of gestures he goes through just to experience/have something related to you.
He's a bit very jealous that Christoff gets to actually feel your control, but he can deal with that. You do have your reasons, and he's also helping his friend out as well, so if anything that'd make you both allies (it's a loose connection, but it makes him feel happy all the same). This only makes it better when you meet in person, and you subsequently give him a heart attack by getting in his personal space and leaning on him (muttering a small complaint about how tall he is in the process; cute).
Just experiencing your relaxing warmth up close, and feeling the weight of your complete attention on him was enough to make a giddy smile spread across his face, and he fights the urge to reach up to try and cover the bright blush that paints his features. Then you get closer, and he's trying not to let his crush on you be too apparent, because oh my god, you're right there. The person he's been fawning over for the past few months is touching him, showing him the same sweet affection he's dreamed about getting from you. (He almost squeaks when he feels your arms come up to wrap around him in a hug, which you find adorable.)
It's what he's been waiting for all this time, but now it brings to mind a more pertinent question: now that he knows you actually like him, what are the chances you could return all of these feelings he has? And how does he increase that probability?
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diedoverahat · 6 months
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five nights in 5,000 different positions
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ofmdaily · 7 months
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-- right away, sir
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grntaire · 7 months
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i’m here bitch this goes fucking crazy
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cultrise · 8 months
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suggestive ahead !
okay, hear me out !! you and hobie tangled between the sheets of his bed as you wake up from last night’s session. and you’re so well rested, it was one of the best sleeps you had in a while. the covers embrace your naked torso as you breathe softly onto the pillow.
your eyes open to the sight of his back as he’s stretching out, groaning softly and trying to snap out of slumber. i also think hobie’s spider senses would not work the same when he hasn’t woken up yet, so he wouldn’t notice you are awake and watching him.
and his back profile just looks so damn good, his muscles flexing as he tries not to wake you up, sitting on the edge of the bed. so you quietly move over, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his pretty little waist, making him flinch at the sudden touch. and he’s so warm… and smells so nice…
“mornin’. hope i didn’ wake you up, doll” he smiles as he feels your cheek press itself on his shoulder blade, a low hum emerging from your lips “no, you didn’t” his hands reach back as he grabs you by the back of your knees, pulling you closer so you wrap around him like a backpack.
resting his hands on your thighs, he leans his head back slightly as he basks in the sun shining from the window. your lips trail gentle kisses on his spine, making him close his eyes in bliss. “you feelin’ alrigh’? not sore or anything, are you?” he asks, just to make sure you aren’t hurting.
you smile against his skin, placing your chin on his shoulder “oh? you want to take care of me or what?” his eyes trail back to watch you, eyes lidded with sleep as you smile at him. and god, his heart is throbbing so badly against his chest it might as well get out. “maybe” he purrs as your lips touch his shoulder.
you use your knees as a pivot so you can raise yourself upwards, dragging your torso along his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your cheek against his. and he can’t help but break out into a lovesick grin because fuck, your boobs feel so nice against his bare back.
“what do you wanna do today?” you ask as your sight wonders out the window, watching boats pass by calmly, small waves making hobie’s houseboat rock ever so slightly. hobie sighs, leaning into your touch “probably.. stay in bed” you smile.
“in bed? don’t you have band practice?” you ask as you tear your face away from his, bending forward so you can look him in the eye. “so?” he looks at you, completely unimpressed “d’you think i’d rather go play guitar with m’mates or stay in bed with m’girl?” you grin at his serious manner “trick question?”
he rolls his eyes, pressing his tongue to his cheek “y’really think i’ll just go to band practice when your tits are pressed so nicely against me like that?” he smirks as you break yourself away from him, a cheeky smile on your lips. he turns around swiftly, his eyes wondering down your torso with a small “fuck” as he presses kisses down your collarbones.
“i guess that’s fair” you close your eyes as he hums in approval “thought y’wanted to get rid of me for a second the’e” he adds, making you chuckle “when you look that good? no way” his head snaps up, eyes glistening “i look good, that so?”
“mhm” you bite your lip as your eyes watch his plump lips. he puts on a shit eating grin, making your body tingle as he gets closer “might take your word for it” before pressing his lips against yours, making sure to make access for his tongue, tasting you.
his fingers dig into your hips, your thighs, the skin of your waist, as your fingers travel along his upper back and neck, drawing circles. you feel your body lose balance as he presses himself down against you “hobie, i’ll fall!” you say, breaking away from the kiss as he smiles down at you, still towering over you.
“thought you already fell f’me” he grins as you fall on your back, now fully under him. your back dives into the mattress, the sheets covering you almost fully. “you dick” you groan as he chuckles at you before trailing his kisses downwards and reaching your chest. heavy breaths come out from your mouth as he nibbles onto your skin, lovingly marking you up even more, determined to continue last night’s work.
and best believe he does. when he said he was gonna spend all day in bed, he wasn’t kidding. you went at it multiple rounds with hours of long and loving aftercare until the sun went down.
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© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.
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felsicveins · 1 year
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And then he laughed so hard he threw up
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artbybrittney · 10 months
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They're so stupid, your honor.
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papertowness · 5 months
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i’m so sorry but comedy peaked when the shameless writers made lip gallagher have anger issues and then decided he was absolute shit at fighting like you can’t get any fucking funnier than that
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bakudekublogblog · 5 months
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izuku: wow i'm so blessed to have all might as a mentor, the man i have decorated every square inch of my room with, who's bedsheets i sleep on, who i have idolized and admired so ardently it's concerning, you know what else belongs in this category? having an almost-normal conversation with kacchan
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starregulus · 23 days
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Neil: *asks Andrew to do anything*
Andrew: what will you give me in return? *and then does it*
Renee: *asks Andrew to do something*
Andrew: no
The Foxes: ANDREW AND RENEE ARE TOTALLY DATING
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grimesgirll · 12 days
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somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.
it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.
after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.
the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.
it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.
rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.
you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.
from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.
the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.
all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.
daryl teases his friend about it.
“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”
daryl’s a hypocrite however.
even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.
it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.
the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.
then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.
you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.
pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.
“daryl!”
you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.
complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.
your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.
“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.
“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.
“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.
you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.
blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.
they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.
“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.
you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.
daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;
“rick, faster, please.”
“what was that?”
“please - faster, can you please?”
the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”
you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.
back onto daryl you go.
those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.
so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.
one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.
“rick,” you mumble against his lips.
“you gettin’ close, angel?”
“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”
“that’s where you guys went?”
your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.
that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.
riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.
rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.
meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.
a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.
shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.
nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.
in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?
you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.
“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”
you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.
“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”
“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.
as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.
“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.
spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”
right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.
as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.
once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.
“dare’,” you whine.
“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.
“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.
“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”
tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”
you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”
“so pretty when you come, baby.”
you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.
you could fall asleep right there. and you do.
it ends as it always does.
following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.
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saltymongoose · 2 years
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Good morning
I think we have not been talking enough about hank
You did say the player would inspect him once they were back from missions and such
And we both know he loves the attention, so as soon as they get back from a mission he instantly just starts taking off his goggles and mask and takes off his coat and all of that in an instant
this is how I imagine it'd look like
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Hope everyone has a nice breakfast
😳 ...Okay, yeah, you're completely right about what that'd look like ahaha. I think Hank generally doesn't pay attention to his physique much because it's all from missions (doesn't need effort) and it just doesn't matter to him that much.
But something he does notice is how much attention you give him when he comes back from his jobs. You're always worried about how little he cares about his own safety, so it's a regular thing for you to insist on looking him over for injuries. So of course he'd help you out by taking his clothes off. How else would you be able to see him to verify if there are any wounds?
Plus, while he might be blind to how he looks, he isn't to the way he gets a reaction out of you this way. The full extent of why probably isn't on his mind, but the fact that you get so shy and blush when he shows any skin isn't lost on him. So really, him doing this is beneficial to both of you. So long as you keep your eyes solely on him, he's satisfied.
(Plus the feeling of your soft hands over his body is something he craves, so it's not like he's averse to showing off if you ask. Even if it requires him to take off more, he'd be happy to, if that's what you want.)
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elysianimagines · 7 months
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headcanon: since sigewinne is brilliant at reading people, she can immediately tell you have a crush on wriothesley, even before you yourself realise it too.
your facial expressions say it all, after all! your blushing cheeks, the way your smile is different around him, the way you look at him…
too bad there’s no mirrors in the fortress of meropide - if she could get one, she could show you just how obviously flustered you are around him! 🤭
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cyber-seaweed · 1 year
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enough sad soukoku angst. give me SILLY soukoku angst. give me 16 year old dazai dragging tired older brother odasaku on a "very important mission given to him by the boss" and it's just dazai watching chuuya on a date (oooooh) with comically oversized binoculars. the date goes horribly wrong, no dazai meddling required, and dazai feels nothing but successful. odasaku leaves halfway through, knowing he cannot stop this but not wanting to enable dazai.
give me sitcom levels of bullshitery skk or give me death.
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alvojake · 2 months
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If y'all need me I'll be in my grave bc HOLY SHIT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK SIM JAEYUN 😀
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ghouljams · 2 months
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So we agree that Ghost loves himself a woman with experience, and that just works so, so well with Goose. She has that sexy confidence that makes you want to get down on your knees and do anything she says. I think he really loves someone who knows what they're doing and isn't afraid to take control.
He needs someone to push him down and ride him, call him a good boy when he does what he's told. He'd probably come on the spot (And let's be honest, if Goose called me that I would too).
Just,,, we need more of Ghost being a good submissive boy for a woman confident with her body and her more sensual side.
This is less submissive Ghost and more... Ghost's trauma and personal relationship with sex shaping the way he has sex with the person he loves(Goose in this case)-
He loves when you ask for it. When he asks what you want and you tell him, without beating around the bush, you want him, you want his cock, you want him to fuck you like he never wants to do anything else. He wants you to tell him explicitly, "yes, I want you, yes I want sex." Because the alternative he can't handle, has nightmares about. He never wants to hear you scream, not like that, not in pain or fear, not about him.
And you're gentle with him. Soft when he puts himself in your hands. You don't want him to break, aren't trying to break him. It's hard won trust, but there are still points he won't yield on, points you would never push. You can't fuck him, can't even ride him if he's too far gone in that soft fuzzy headspace, it's too close to being back in Roba's hands, to waking up in between violations and feeling tears he refuses to shed. There are aspects of control he needs to hold onto. You know him so well, as well as you know yourself, and you've always respected his rules.
So he respects you. When you tell him, "On your knees baby." He drops, doesn't mind the sharp jolt of shock, or the way his knees will be bruised tomorrow. He drops. He leans his head into your hand and enjoys the way you pet him, the sweep of your thumb over his cheek. He loves the confidence, the way you grip his hair and direct him, the way you coo at him to open his mouth, to let you grind against his tongue. He loves being useful for you, it's a better use for him than being a soldier or a ranch hand. Especially when you say those magic words,
"Good boy."
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