newyorknative | Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

Entry tags:

fiyero tigelaar : winkieprince

Yes I want you, and that’s the way it is

[ aka wicked ii: lost in new york ]

Fiyero smiles at the way Peter's hips twitch. He can't really buck much if he can't unfold his knees, the only real movement coming from pushing off with his toes, or - with his legs spread out wide like this - pressing off with his knees. Not much to do anything with. (It could be fun to just hold his hand still and have Peter try to thrust up into it, to get any sort of friction... Thought for later.) Peter could just move Fiyero's hand and it would be simpler, but he's too well behaved for that, and Fiyero intends to see to his hands in a moment.

Fiyero smiles warmly at the question, and at Peter's absolutely lovely expression, and while he doesn't answer, he does lean in to reward him with a quick kiss.

Then he stands up again, stepping behind Peter and kneeling down on one knee behind him. He snakes his arms around him, getting a good grip around his chest. "Push off the floor with your knees, please, baby," he requests casually. It's a difficult position to pick Peter up from, but getting Peter's help for the very first bit, Fiyero manages it with some careful effort. They're lucky Fiyero is strong, but honestly they're also lucky Peter is skinny.

It's straightening up that's the difficult bit though, so once he's standing he's got Peter in a secure grip, pausing for a second to lean his head down and press a kiss against Peter's neck. Then he turns towards the bed, gently setting Peter down on the edge of it, making sure he's got his legs comfortably under himself to support himself.

They're also lucky Fiyero did think some of the logistics through beforehand, cause he's still very hard, and it's a bit difficult to think particularly complex thoughts. Especially when his cock presses up against Peter's back while lifting him. He straightens up, hands settling instead on Peter’s shoulders as Fiyero takes a steadying breath.

"I think you've enjoyed the use of these long enough," he teases, leaning down again as his hands slide down Peter's arms, finding his hands and gently taking them in his. He pulls one up towards his face, where he's leaning over Peter's shoulder, giving his knuckles a kiss. "You ready for that?" he asks gently, sweetly. However commanding and confident and possessive he might occasionally be throughout this particular adventure, he wants to treat those particular milestones with care. Every time Peter gives up a bit more of his freedom, Fiyero wants to watch if there's any hesitation or reluctance, any nervousness that goes beyond the expected excitement.

Peter accepts the kiss with a soft smile, head turning to follow Fiyero until he's stepped completely behind him, before Peter turns to face forward again - because as Fiyero so astutely pointed out, he's far too obedient to kick up much of a fuss. Well - at the moment. Maybe Fiyero will be able to challenge him enough to crack that restraint... if anyone can, it would certainly be him.

They're able to get him up, though Peter does leverage some stickiness in the sole of his foot to help out. It doesn't change the fact that Fiyero manhandling him is hot, depositing him on the bed and helping rearrange him both comfortably, and to Fiyero's liking. He can feel Fiyero's arousal press against him as they straighten out, and Peter bites down on his lower lip - the taste and feel of Fiyero moving in his mouth so fresh he can recall it terribly easily, which is doing nothing to help his own erection.

Peter lets his hand turn in Fiyero's, brushing his fingers against Fiyero's mouth affectionately at the kiss. The idea of being completely at Fiyero's mercy - nervous, exciting, thrilling - all of the above though it may be, Peter trusts him. He feels warm all over from Fiyero's attention and sweet affection, and yeah, sure, this has never truly been an option for him, trusting so much of himself with someone - but there's no one he'd rather trust than Fiyero.

How Fiyero has managed to cement himself so adeptly may not make sense from the outside, but Peter sees the heart of him, so he nods, reaching up with his other hand and craning his neck more to turn to Fiyero.

"One more kiss?" Peter entreats, cupping Fiyero's face with both hands. He pulls Fiyero to him, kissing him soundly, one hand slipping up to wind into his hair, the other cupping Fiyero's cheek so his thumb can brush lightly back and forth against his cheekbone. When they part, Peter tips his chin up to press a light kiss to Fiyero's nose, hands sliding down to Fiyero's neck, resting there in patient surrender.

It probably also helps with Peter's patience that Fiyero is really just answering Peter's question with action, rather than words. He's enjoying keeping Peter guessing, though he's also glad he's made Peter comfortable enough to feel like he can ask questions if something concerns him. Soon enough, Peter will have less and less ability to do much about how Fiyero might want him, so what's the point in even telling him, right? Fiyero can just arrange him how he wants. The point, of course, would be if Peter was sincerely anxious about it, then Fiyero would tell him more. But as long as he's comfortable trusting Fiyero and the process, then Fiyero wants him to just enjoy the ride. Let Fiyero worry about what needs to be done.

Peter also feels comfortable requesting one last kiss - actually asking for something he wants! And how can Fiyero deny him that? He wants to encourage that in Peter. Unless there's a very specific reason to deny him - like how he's promised to tease him, or if it's overridden by some other concern. Fiyero wants to indulge Peter as much as he can within those boundaries.

He shifts to be more at Peter's side, letting Peter twist to face him as much as possible for the kiss. It's a very good kiss, heartfelt and sweet, Fiyero humming appreciatively into it. Putting a hand on top of Peter's hand on his cheek. Fiyero's smiling when they part, warm and affectionate and pleased.

"Thank you for asking, baby," he says, resting his hand on Peter's chest. "I want you to ask for what you want. Even if I might not always give it. I love that you ask for it."

If Peter were really in distress about anything, he knows Fiyero would notice. The way he's looking at him, the way he's treating Peter? Even when he's being manhandled, manipulated to Fiyero's liking, it's never without thought or care. He's not being used for gratification, even if that may ultimately be the result. Fiyero smiles at him, and Peter's heart flutters, skipping a beat in a way that has, for once, nothing to do with his perpetual anxiety.

"I'll try to remember that," Peter grins, gaze tracing Fiyero's face, the cut of his cheek, the way his hair falls just so over his forehead. It's more than just reassurance that he can and should ask for what he wants - but approval, proof that Fiyero is pleased with him... which is very nice indeed. He lets his free hand brush against Fiyero's clavicle, admiring the dark dusting of hair there that leads down towards his chest. Peter's gaze flits back up to Fiyero's, perhaps too earnest for what comes out of his mouth next - but then, that's Peter. "I want you to tie my hands. Please, 'yero?"

Proof, too, that Peter is ready for it. There's no trepidation there, not when it comes to trusting Fiyero. He has their safeword and Fiyero's soft attentiveness - all that remains is anticipation, and a deep desire to please Fiyero however he'll allow.

It's become something of a cornerstone of their relationship. Heartfelt earnestness, sweetness and care and playfulness - whether it's paired with very kinky sex, lazing in bed, or going through awful trauma and danger. Fiyero's not even that surprised when it's something naughty that Peter requests so sweetly.

He does let out a warm laugh, grinning happily as he nods at the question. "That I can definitely do for you, darling," he answers, leaning in to press a smack of a kiss to Peter's cheek. He might not match Peter's soft quiet sincerity in this moment, but there is certainly nothing insincere in the joy and excitement he exudes.

He gets to his feet, grabbing the webshooter and the chair, pulling it closer to the bed so he can sit right behind Peter. He sets the webshooter down on the table within easy reach, before taking Peter's arms. He's sure in his movements, but he doesn't need to be forceful in guiding Peter's hands back.

He thoughtfully places them at Peter's back, the back of Peter's hands flat against the bottom of his lower back. Not with the wrists crossing each other, but instead on a way where he can attach them directly to Peter's back. "How's that? I want you to be comfortable, including when you're lying on your back," he says, letting Peter choose how he thinks it would be best for him to be tied up. He's the one who can tell whether his arms are at a good angle and such. But with his hands like this, he can lie them flat against the bed when he's on his back. Fiyero can also place a pillow at his back between his arms to relieve some of the weight then too.

He would place them at his thighs, but that also means Peter can use the strength in his arms to pull at his legs, which Fiyero would rather avoid, to spare the bedframe later. Better to spread the strength out. If Peter pulls a hand free, it doesn't mean his leg will be free, and vice versa.

Maybe it's something they both need - it's definitely something Peter needs, something he doesn't usually admit that he needs, but needs nonetheless. Fiyero doesn't seem to mind providing it, either, and that draws him in like nothing else. The darling brings another happy flush to his face, and Peter shifts to face front again as Fiyero retrieves the shooter and gets comfortable behind him, anticipation rising. What will Fiyero do with him? What demands will he lay at Peter's feet? Whatever Fiyero wants, Peter silently commits himself to delivering, with renewed determination.

His arms shift easily, following Fiyero's guiding touches. He nods, rearranging a little bit so his hands are stacked, one above the other, pressed to his lower back. It allows him to relax his shoulders, avoiding any awkward, jutting out angles. "This is good, baby."

It leaves him very exposed, bundled up with his limbs tucked beneath him. If Fiyero were to put him on his back - there's simply nothing Peter can do with writhe, no leverage to be had. Just his cock, ramrod straight and achingly hard, wrapped up in a condom to catch the mess Fiyero expected him to make. Just the thought makes him twitch a little, fingers fidgeting against his back. Was Fiyero even planning to make him come, or did he expect Peter to blow it on his own first? His thighs strain, but the webbing doesn't give, legs still trapped, calf to thigh. Peter takes a deep breath, recentering himself; he can do this, and he can make a decent attempt to last while he does...

Fiyero lets Peter adjust, again glad that Peter feels comfortable speaking up and choosing, not just fully submitting to whatever Fiyero decides. That will probably come later, no doubt, but at that point the things he might simply put up with will be less impactful. Better to get the important things completely right. Peter submitting himself to endure discomfort or denial is part of the fun, as long as it's not painful or going to put a damper on the fun.

"Alright, baby, keep still," he warns, so Peter stops fidgeting while he actually secures him. Fiyero's cock is distractingly hard, but the need has been pushed to the background for the moment, so he can focus.

Peter's wrists and forearms overlap next to each other enough that Fiyero can place two ropes, attached to his back, but that might be weaker than looping around like he did with his legs. So he gently pulls Peter's arms towards him, and tells him to stay like that, before he shoots one strand to Peter's forearm, then carefully loops around, attaching them together. He waits until it's not as immediately sticky, before he puts Peter's arms against his back once again.

"Here and here, I think," he suggests, gently touching Peter's back and arms to indicate where it looks best to attach. One rope on each side of where he attached the arms together, spreading the pressure out, secure without cutting anything off too tight. He waits until Peter okays it, before going ahead, attaching Peter's arms to his back.

It provides just enough wiggle room in his shoulders and elbows that he's not stuck in one static position, and still lets him twist his upper body a little bit, if not as much as usual. "How's that? We can redo it if it's too tight or uncomfortable," he says. He smiles a bit, and though Peter can't see it, it's obvious in his voice. "After all, I'd rather take the time now than having to stop in the middle."

Fiyero carefully contemplates his options for tying Peter up, and Peter valiantly tries to hold his composure - but it gives him time to think, the only other distraction being the brush of Fiyero's hands and the soft music coming from the computer. He's never been good at sitting still, but he tries to when Fiyero asks, fingers freezing against his back. He thinks about having Fiyero in his mouth again, what it might feel like without the ability to steady himself with his hands. The glob of webbing hits his forearm, and Peter bites the inside of his cheek, waiting as the webbing solidifies, locking his arms together.

Maybe he should have showed Fiyero some ties before, but the webbing is different than rope - the lines Fiyero put on his legs are one thing, but webbing his hands together is different, easier. There's no danger of chafing or circulation issues with a glob of sticky material. He nods, clearing his throat to answer when he realizes Fiyero will need a verbal confirmation, unable to see his face. "Yeah that's - that should be okay."

Fiyero works the webbing into ropes again, weaving it between his arms to attach them to his back, and suddenly his range of motion is far smaller. Even with his hands glued together behind him, he could probably have rotated his arms to get them back in front of him if he needed to. With the additional webbing to his back? No dice.

"It's not uncomfortable," Peter squeaks, voice a little high with arousal. He doesn't want Fiyero to stop either, and genuinely - it is fine. "I'll let you know if it, um, becomes an issue. But it shouldn't - the webbing isn't like a rope, you know, it doesn't keep tightening or - uh, yeah."

Embarrassed babbling 1, Peter 0. He shifts on the bed, sitting back on his haunches, arms straining against the new predicament, like he can't help but test it. The thrill he gets when it doesn't budge, when he can't move? It shoots straight down his spine, body tingling from Fiyero's proximity. He can't see him, but he can feel him there, his presence.

Once Fiyero has secured the last bit of webbing, it means he can focus more on Peter and his reactions. So the fact that Peter's voice squeaks a little when he answers? Oh, it's very exciting. It makes Fiyero want to absolutely torment him in the best kind of way, bringing a grin to his face that Peter can't see. Especially when Peter strains against his bindings. Fiyero knows exactly how thrilling that is - possibly even moreso for Peter, who's so unused to anything being able to restrain him.

"Good," Fiyero answers, his voice low. There's a soft click of Fiyero putting the web shooter down on the table, then the sound of the chair pushing back on the floor, Fiyero getting to his feet.

He doesn't leave Peter in suspense for long, arms wrapping around Peter, hands sliding smoothly across his skin, as he leans over him, hugging Peter to his chest. He starts kissing Peter's neck, under his jaw, behind his ear. Hands exploring Peter's chest, sliding down his stomach, caressing every part Peter can no longer protect, slipping down to his groin but avoiding his erection.

The way Fiyero is bent over Peter, he can't feel Fiyero's erection either, not reach him with his hands. He can still squirm of course, but he can't really go anywhere easily.

Fiyero doesn't say anything yet, just taking a moment to enjoy the sensuality of it. Letting Peter get used to being touched while tied up like this. A little reward, since Fiyero is going to deprive him of it soon enough. Except of course for the very specific kinds of touch he decides on.

It feels like his senses are working overtime, trying to interpret the noises Fiyero makes behind him - the chair, the slide of skin on skin as Fiyero unfolds from the chair to stand, the final clatter of the webshooter against the desk, discarded because Fiyero finally has him right where he wants him. Peter almost jumps a little when Fiyero touches him, eagerly melting into the embrace, a soft sound of approval eking out of his throat. Muscles flutter beneath Fiyero's attention, warm hands sliding down his body, exploring every inch of him - except of course the couple of inches that crave his touch the most.

Which is probably good, because Peter's not so sure he'll last when Fiyero does touch him. He shivers pleasantly, squirming a little against Fiyero's chest; he wonders what resisting would even look like when he's trussed up like this, solely for curiosity reasons - he has no desire to resist, head tilting to give Fiyero better access to his neck. Peter closes his eyes with a happy sigh, the warmth of Fiyero's chest sitting broadly over his shoulders. "That feels nice, baby..."

It does feel nice. With his eyes closed, it feels fucking fantastic; like the deprivation of one sense enhances the others, and the fact that he's tied up makes him even more acutely aware. His fingers flex in their bonds, arms shifting a little - but nothing budges. He's submitted to being Fiyero's plaything, and it's actually working.

They would probably have a blast playing with blindfolds at some point. So far they've been busy exploring everything else, and really enjoying actually seeing each other's reactions to it. But eventually it will probably come up, knowing how they've been so far.

It's very enjoyable getting to touch Peter like this, knowing all he can do is accept it. He can't even reciprocate. Something about showering Peter in affection and pleasure, and he can neither stop it nor return the favour to make up for it. Well - no more than Fiyero allows. Thankfully Fiyero will soon allow some, because his own erection is asking for attention too.

"Mmm... It feels good to touch you.. And I get to do it as much or as little as I want," Fiyero answers with a smile, voice slightly muffled against Peter's neck. He lifts his head, hugging Peter cheek to cheek, as his hand comes up to caress Peter throat, his jaw, then his lips.

"I was considering letting you try the gag as well, even if it would be more of a reminder for you," he admits thoughtfully. "So I can finish fucking your mouth while I've got you all tied up. But I do like feeling your lips too, so I'm not sure. What do you think, darling? With or without?"

Once again, he's leaving another choice up for Peter. This isn't the sort of control where he wants to free Peter entirely of having to think. It's far too ambitious for that, and Fiyero doesn't know Peter's preferences well enough to fully take the lead for that long or something this intense. Though they will build to a point where hopefully Peter's brain will be blissfully (or torturously) empty of thoughts.

There are probably a lot of things they’d enjoy trying together, and Peter honestly gets a little dizzy thinking about it all. Just because he’s not partial to cold sensations doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy other types of sensory play - or in doling it out, on the giving end rather than the receiving, if that was something Fiyero wanted to try. Blindfolds and other toys - that store was huge, even without counting the scarier items. More importantly, the idea that Fiyero would want to stick around long enough to do any of that with him… it means more than Peter can articulate.

“Yeah. Anything you want.” Peter croaks, pleasant gooseflesh rising on his skin as Fiyero nuzzles him shamelessly, a warm hand shifting up to touch him. His lips part under Fiyero’s fingers, a shaky inhalation, eyes fluttering open at the filthy, sensual words. Something about hearing Fiyero’s soft affect saying the words fucking your mouth, feels beautifully uncouth.

“Maybe - um, maybe,” Peter wets his lips, back arching a little to press closer to Fiyero. He can feel his warm chest, cozied up against his back, and the desire to be held only intensifies as he imagines Fiyero fucking his mouth, taking him. “Maybe - no gag, when you’re - fucking me?”

“You can put it in later,” Peter offers, all too sweet, turning his head to nuzzle against Fiyero’s cheek. “Use the ball, instead of the ring?”

Easing into this is probably best for both of them. It’s Fiyero’s first time experimenting with control like this… and honestly, Peter’s first time genuinely submitting. The only way he’s getting out of this is when Fiyero decides - or if he safewords, and Peter is nowhere close to that, right now; he’s right where he wants to be.

Fiyero's never really considered sensory play. It's one of those things he doesn't find particularly hot in and of itself, but would probably enjoy in the right circumstances, especially if they combined it with other fun things. Although on the other hand, sensory deprivation has occurred to him as a kink, not being able to see or hear, just feel, especially combined with being tied up.

The more they play with this stuff, the less scarier it will probably get. Being tied up, blindfolded and with earplugs or something now might be unbelievably hot - or it might end up a bit too scary, or triggering unexpected feelings. The challenge lies in not really know how they'll feel, how they will react to things. Once they know how things feel separately, it will be easier to combine them.

Which is why Fiyero thinks it's a good thing that Peter admits he'd rather not have the gag. It'll still be a lot, Fiyero is fully aware. He hums thoughtfully. "Maybe. But then I can't hear you beg," he says, as if weighing the pros and cons. "Well, at least not verbally," he adds playfully, turning to give Peter a peck on the lips.

He straightens up a little, almost businesslike in his decisiveness. Or at least he's moving with purpose - there's very little that's anything like business in what they're doing right now. He reaches down to Peter's thigh, pushing it. "Turn this way, baby," he guides Peter in shifting on the bed. He's partly manhandling him into moving, partly nudging Peter to do it himself. It's fun picking Peter up and arranging him, but now he's quite tied up, it's also fun to have him try to move and discover how tricky it is.

He makes Peter turn to face the head of the bed, with the towel underneath him. "Spread your legs, all the way," he commands, gentle but firm, getting Peter to practically do the splits. He puts some pillows down in front of Peter, and then he carefully pushes him forward, lowering him down to lie on his front.

He adjusts the pillow underneath Peter's chest so he's propped up and not just with his face pressed into the mattress. Then he reaches under Peter, casually adjusting his cock as well, so it's pressed up against his stomach rather than off to the side. Something about the nonchalant way he does it makes it extra hot. But it's not like Peter can do it himself.

"Comfortable?" he asks gently, taking a moment to caress Peter's arms, his back, his thighs, spread out. His palm stroking up the inside of his thigh, before getting a nice handful of Peter's ass. "Shame we haven't tried fucking each other properly yet. This would be a nice way to do it. Have you all tied up and helpless while I fucked you into the mattress."

For all they've messed around with resisting and holding each other down, this is the first time they're actually testing out restraints. For it to work so well for Fiyero - barring Peter's one hiccup, which was on him, for getting a little too excited - is a good sign. Already, Peter knows he's responding well to being restrained, too. Time will tell if that will hold - if something will be too much, or if repeated strain will eventually break his bonds - but they won't know until they try.

More to the point, Fiyero makes trying... easy. That's what's not scary, knowing that it's Fiyero that's with him, through all of it. He makes everything feel like it's possible, like maybe it all really will be okay.

Peter huffs a laugh and smiles at the kiss, trying very hard not to examine the fact that Fiyero wants him to beg, before obediently turning over. Or - trying to, anyway. It's definitely difficult, with his legs spread as wide as they are and his arms bound and bundled at his back. He has to wiggle a little, ass flexing as his core muscles clench and help him shift around. It probably gives Fiyero a very nice view of his backside, especially when Peter's focused on actually performing the task and not the self-consciousness of it all.

Self-consciousness returns, though, as Fiyero spreads him out to his liking. His thighs spread easily - he could very well be put in the splits, if that's what Fiyero wanted from him. His flexibility isn't anywhere near his limit, at the moment. His cock hangs, heavy and red between his legs, and Peter lays facedown at Fiyero's request, cheeks reddening with the way it pushes his ass up, on display.

A muffled squeak slips from his throat when Fiyero touches his cock to rearrange him, dick drooling in the condom. The surety of his hands is so casual, like Peter's erection is an insouciant afterthought. And there is, indeed, nothing he can do about it - flexible as he is, with his legs spread and his chest propped up by the pillows, his cock simply hangs, suspended. Unable to find any friction, though Peter might be able to get it to brush his own stomach if he twitches his hips hard enough.

"I'm okay," Peter assures him, turning his face to the side to speak, so Fiyero can hear him. Fiyero's hands find his body, exploring eagerly, mapping out every available inch of skin, the binds that criss-cross, leaving him helpless to Fiyero's whims. He groans softly when Fiyero squeezes his ass, cheeks pink at the idea of being fucked like this. Spread wide open, speared on Fiyero's cock - he could go deep like this, bottom out easily...

"I'd like that," Peter admits, and maybe it's easier to admit when he doesn't have to look Fiyero in the eye, when all he can feel is arousal and Fiyero's greedy touches, feeding that arousal. "I'd - put the plug in for you. So you could just - slip it out and have me ready for you."

Peter might not even be aware of how easy he himself makes trying easy. Peter is well aware Fiyero is inexperienced, but there's no shame or ridicule, and he's always ready to answer Fiyero's questions, or just provide information and context when Fiyero seems unsure. He takes things at whatever pace Fiyero is comfortable with, and most of the time when Fiyero has found himself maybe a little bit in over his head, it's because he's insisted and Peter has obliged. Then you add to it the fact that Peter is very strong and capable, quite handy, and familiar with safety precautious and medical care - it all makes it feel very safe to try all sorts of things.

Peter is the helpless one right now though, this also feels safe enough just because Peter is so willing to work with him. Even if Fiyero is the one in charge, Peter isn't expecting him to know everything. And he's so willing to indulge fantasies, even just talking about them like now.

"Yeah? I like the sound of that. Set that thing to vibrate, you'd probably be just as hard as you are now while you waited for me," Fiyero contemplates, his hand still caressing Peter backside and the inside of his thigh. His fingers exploring just a little bit back there, that spot behind Peter's balls, up to his entrance. Just ghosting teasingly around it, and leaving it at that. Something for them to explore at a later day.

Instead he reaches down to Peter's leg, tugging at it - spreading him wider, his hips shifting closer to the mattress as his support disappears a little. Speaking of splits, right? "You could probably come like this even without me fucking you, huh?" he comments, putting his hand on Peter's lower back, pressing down - pushing him down towards the mattress, so his cock across touches the towel he's resting on. "Come on, show me. Think you could rub yourself across the bed till you spilled for me?"

Peter just wants Fiyero to be comfortable and happy with him, and whatever he needs to do to make this relationship between them an environment where that can happen - he's only too happy to do so. And even if they find themselves in an unexpected place - Peter knows they can work it out, help each other, that caring will always come first.

"I'd be hard just opening myself up for you," Peter admits, honest to a fault. His muscles twitch when Fiyero's hand passes over them, a teasing touch to his perineum that implies a whole lot more. It's been a while since Peter had reason to mess around back there - he doesn't really bother, for just himself - and he shivers pleasantly, imagining how it would feel for Fiyero to slick up his fingers and sink them inside. The prep can feel good, when done right, and Peter's sure Fiyero would give it the attention it deserved.

Fiyero's hand closes around his thigh, pressing his legs open ever wider. His hips lower, Fiyero's hand a warm pressure against his lower back, until the head of his cock is brushing the towel beneath him. He can feel his face flushing at Fiyero's words, but he nods, once again honest - yeah, he probably could. Even with the condom on, it's not dulling his arousal, or even sensation much. A little, but not much.

"I can try," Peter murmurs, trailing off in a soft whimper as his hips twitch, seeking friction. He has pathetically little range of motion, with his legs spread so wide - but that doesn't stop him, dragging the head of his cock against the towel dutifully. It's not that it feels particularly good - it's so little friction, trying to get himself off however he can - but it's what Fiyero wants and that is hot. Little flexes of his abs, ass clenching rhythmically - Peter tries, dragging the tip of his cock back and forth against the towel.

Fiyero chuckles when Peter admits how easily he'd be hard, and, well, he's not wrong. The anticipation would probably help a lot too. Just like now, Fiyero's light touch getting a reaction simply because of what it promises.

Honestly, Fiyero has to take a moment just to appreciate the view. Standing over Peter, who's simultaneously spread out and wrapped up tight. With his arms tied to him, he can't even twist properly, so he'd probably have a difficult time even rolling over easily. So vulnerable, blushing red, yet also so eager to please the moment Fiyero asks anything of him. Trying to chase any pleasure he can achieve, because Fiyero told him to. It's kind of ridiculously hot, actually.

Fiyero's standing close enough that he's in Peter's field of vision, even if it's no doubt a little awkward. But Fiyero wants Peter to see, as Fiyero lazily touches himself a bit, a few light strokes to stop himself from flagging after he's been neglecting himself for a moment. In a way it's just as much a display for Peter, where Fiyero is standing there watching Peter try to awkwardly hump the mattress. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathes.

He huffs, moving again, suddenly sitting on the bed right beside Peter. "Alright, you can stop. Don't want you coming yet," Fiyero says, running his hand through Peter's hair - the hand Fiyero was just pleasuring himself with. "Well.. Suppose I could just make you come again, so it wouldn't be that bad," he adds with a grin, before his hand tightens demandingly in Peter's hair, pulling his head back, making him arch his neck as he leans down to lay claim to his mouth, kissing him messily. Just because Peter asked for one more kiss before being tied up doesn't mean it was gonna be the last one.

Peter humps forward, chest pressed into the pillows, chasing the sensation the best he can. He's completely helpless like this - sure, if he really needed to he could buck, probably right himself with enough flailing. Fiyero slides into his view, hand wrapped around his own cock, lazily pumping, and Peter whines softly, hips working harder to chase the feeling. Wanting to please, knowing that it's turning Fiyero on, that he's pleasuring himself just watching...

It kind of starts to feel good.

He finds a decent angle, grinding against the bed, cheeks brilliantly pink. The next hump forward hits the spot just so, and Peter groans, eyes slipping closed. He thinks he could do it, listening to the slick sound of Fiyero's hand, passing over his shaft - knowing that this is what Fiyero wants from him, succeeding is it's own kind of pleasure. Peter shudders again, hips moving faster, rubbing himself against the towel, so very eager to please.

Which also means stopping, right when it starts to feel good.

Peter bites off the noise of complaint, teeth digging into his lower lip, and forces himself to still at Fiyero's command. His cock is throbbing, even more worked up than he was before. His eyes flutter open just in time to watch Fiyero move his hand from his erection to Peter's hair, and he gasps softly when his head is pulled back, forcing him to lean up and meet Fiyero's commanding kiss. His arms pull at his binds on instinct, but there's no give, and the reinforcement that he's truly trapped sends another wave of heat through him. Peter kisses him back, lips parted to invite Fiyero in to ravage his mouth - one more kiss on his term, with hands and affectionate touching, but this? Peter's never going to complain about this.

"Whatever - " Peter's voice is breathless when they part, slightly dazed, lips pink from use. He stares up at Fiyero, moon-eyed. "Whatever you want. If you want to watch me come, I can do it. Anything you want, baby..."

Peter's desperation is sexy just in itself, the little whines from him as he tries to find the right way to move. And then how he stops at Fiyero's command, even if he's probably starting to get quite desperate.

Fiyero's slightly breathless and pink too, but probably not as much as Peter. He does smile warmly when Peter offers anything, feeling so incredibly fond of him and turned on by him at the same time.

"I know, darling," he answers sweetly, his hand loosening so he can brush his fingers through Peter's hair, like petting him with approval. "You're doing so well." He leans forward and presses a kiss to Peter's forehead, before he gets up.

Or rather, he barely gets up, taking just a step to instead sit down at the head of the bed, bunching up the pillows that remain behind himself. He's settling with one leg on either side of Peter's, and suddenly it becomes very clear exactly why Fiyero has placed Peter exactly there, and why he propped him up with pillows. Fiyero's cock is now bouncing lazily almost right in front of Peter's face as he settles on.

"You can try to come while I fuck your mouth," he says, reaching down to grab his own cock, pressing it against Peter's cheek. "Don't rush it, though. I'd love to find out what it feels like if you come while I'm buried in your throat."

Fiyero's being absolutely filthy, and it feels strangely natural when it's like this. Because it's sexy, because he knows it will get a reaction out of Peter - and also because it's what he's been thinking about for a while now. He's got every intention of driving Peter crazy with lust, but first he wants to use him, to take care of his own pleasure. If anything, this will probably really solidify that beautiful headspace Peter is in, making it all the easier to help him lose control afterwards.

Peter soaks up the praise, beaming shyly as his hair is mussed. When Fiyero gives him affection like that, it just makes Peter even more determined to live up to Fiyero's expectations. Not because he feels like he has to, but because he wants to, so badly. His head turns to track Fiyero's movement as his prince slides to sit, eyes widening when the position Fiyero settles into is clear; powerful, commanding, positioned oh-so-conveniently to use Peter's mouth.

"Okay," Peter's voice is soft, accepting without question. Fiyero's cock is red, head shiny with slick arousal, which smears against Peter's cheek in a hot streak as Fiyero presses up against him. He parts his lips, whining softly, and his hips shudder forward, rubbing his dick against the bed again. If it feels filthy, it's probably because it is - there's nothing Peter can do but take Fiyero's cock and helplessly hump mostly air as he tries to get off himself and fuck, that's far hotter than it has any right to be. "Please, please 'yero, please fuck me..."

He manages to tilt his head, brushing his lips against Fiyero's shaft, finally catching the head of Fiyero's cock on his tongue. Peter groans and swirls his tongue around him, hips undulating - it's not enough friction, not nearly enough, but he's getting horny enough now that it hardly matters. He wonders if an orgasm would even be satisfying like this - probably not, and the thought makes his balls feel tight. No, it would probably feel frustrating, too light to prolong the pleasure - the satisfaction would be from knowing he did as Fiyero asked, ideally with his boyfriend sheathed in his throat. Peter's hips twitch again, tongue lavving messily at the cock in his face, begging for Fiyero to press forward and take him.

Fiyero smiles sweetly down at Peter, reaching with his other hand to brush though his hair. "Of course, baby.. Gonna make good use of that mouth," he answers, the last word fading into a groan as Peter manages to wrap his lips around him, sending a soft wave of pleasure through Fiyero. He shifts his hips a little to the side, so he's situated right under Peter's head. With his hips resting on the bed, he's pressed shallowly enough into Peter's mouth that Peter could pull back or turn his head enough to free his mouth - but if he bucks his hips, there's nowhere Peter could really escape. For now he lets Peter work his tongue while Fiyero's pets his hair.

"Remember, baby.. If you need to stop, just make a loud humming sound," he instructs. "If you want my attention, you need to slow down or pause, or you can't hum, just wave your hands like this." He holds up a hand in front of Peter's face, opening and closing his fingers quickly, like a wave. "Show me you can do it." Fiyero's propped up well enough that he can see Peter's back and his hands easily - as well as how he's bucking his hips. Peter's wrists are locked in place, but his hands are free enough.

"Good, darling. You just relax and enjoy yourself, because that's what I'm gonna do. Just gonna use this pretty mouth till I'm satisfied. Nothing you can do about it - nothing you need to do about. Lucky you, there's no wrong answers when you're a toy," he says, huffing a breathy laugh. His voice is getting rougher as he lazily rolls his hips, fucking gently against the roof of Peter's mouth. "You can move however how you, however you're able. If you find a better position to press your dick against that mattress, you just go ahead, sweetheart. If you come a dozen times, I get to watch each one. If you don't come at all, I get to drive you even crazier.. Even if you can't handle me in your throat, I can just fuck you some other way, can't I? Either way I win, huh, Peter?"

However satisfying it would be for both of the to have Peter do as Fiyero first suggested, Fiyero wants to make it clear there's simply no way for Peter to fail him. Peter is safe in that Fiyero will chase his own pleasure, and Peter can't stop him from doing just that. He's helpless to be used however Fiyero chooses. In reality, this means that even if Peter chokes or gets overwhelmed, it doesn't mean that he's let Fiyero down. However vulnerable and helpless Peter is, Fiyero will take care of him. Physically, and emotionally.

And he's also going to have a very good time while doing it, because yes, this is hot. Fiyero's fingers tighten in Peter's hair, holding his head with both hands as he fucks up into Peter's moan, letting out another groan.

Everything about this situation is unbelievably hot, and the way Fiyero has so carefully constructed it really leaves Peter no room to escape by accident. Unless he struggles hard enough that the bonds fail, but so far, they seem to be holding up, and Peter doesn't think they'll fail, regardless. Fiyero's cock sits in his mouth like it's always been meant to be there, a good inch or so pressed against Peter's tongue, but with the way Peter is bound he can't really get enough leverage to bob that much, either.

He whines, then pauses to hum, loud and unmistakable. It has the added benefit of reverberating through Fiyero's cock, and Peter obediently opens and closes his palm, fingers fluttering, to prove that he can. He whines again, eyes flitting up to Fiyero before he has to groan, opening his mouth a little wider as Fiyero's hips lift to fuck into him languorously. Unhurried, unbothered - like Fiyero's just using his mouth how he likes, which he is. Peter can't even suck when he's doing that, made to just... take it. To just be Fiyero's toy, a hole for him to fuck however he likes, and Peter whimpers around him, hips stuttering forward, getting whatever friction he can.

It's not much. The condom isn't dulling the sensation exactly, but it does make it harder to get any traction against the bed. The helpless feeling intensifies as he's caught, suspended in a place where he really can't do much at all. Peter flattens his tongue, making a muffled sound of approval - yes, he wants Fiyero to be pleased, and however he wants to fuck him, Fiyero is the winner here. Peter's just grateful he gets to be there at all...

Fiyero fucks his mouth more intentionally this time, hands finding their way into his hair, and Peter closes his eyes with a groan, no longer trying to look up at Fiyero. It puts his neck at a bad angle for facefucking, which is definitely the priority; tilting his head down helps him open his throat. His arms twitch, but the webbing shows no sign of giving, and his legs tense, still spread wide. His ass flexes again, hips shifting to try and chase friction - he's following Fiyero's pace, each thrust into his mouth getting a press of his cock against the bed. It's maddening in the best way, how good it all feels without being enough; how turned on he is having Fiyero fucking him like this and all he can get for his own erection is a little tease of friction, right at the sensitive head...

It would be that the thing that inspires Fiyero to 'carefully construct' anything would be really specific sex to fulfill one of Peter's unthinkable fantasies. Fiyero's usually found himself on the receiving end of this fantasy, but it turns out to also be extremely hot to be the one in control, to orchestrate it for both of their enjoyment.

Once Peter demonstrates that he can let Fiyero know if something is wrong, it also becomes a lot easier to relax. Both signals are very obvious, and also unmistakable. The flapping wave also a nice way for Peter to show that he needs an adjustment, without necessarily going full stop. A signal that inspires less worry.

Peter doesn't seem to have much worry - for once - so neither does Fiyero. When he's done giving instructions and everything, he can also stop thinking so much, and focus on actually enjoying himself properly. And Peter's making the most beautiful little noises, each one intensifying the sensation of Peter's mouth.

Fiyero gives a drawn-out moan, his hands gripping Peter's hair to make his face meet each thrust. He has to stop himself from going too deep, too fast, but the pleasure is building rather rapidly now he's getting into it.

"Fuck.. Doesn't that feel good, darling? You feel amazing.." he says, voice heavy with lust, his cock rock hard in Peter's mouth. "Tighter, baby. Let me feel your lips and your tongue. Fuck, that's it.. You're mine.. My darling Peter, so gorgeous.. Fuck.."

Fiyero's hips twitch, already pressing up towards the back of Peter's throat before forcing himself to pull back. But he keeps fucking, as deep as he knows he can safely go, before he starts feeling that resistance. It's not just Peter who has trouble holding off this time honestly, Fiyero having to take deep, steadying breaths, his body tense with trying to control the pleasure.

Peter's always been the giving type, in any given aspect of his life. So is Fiyero, in his own way - in the ways he can be, when he sees an opportunity to do so. The times when Fiyero has taken control, yes, it's because he wants to and has fun in his own right; but he also gravitates towards giving Peter things he himself finds fun to experience, or wants to eventually experience. Maybe it makes it less scary, or maybe it just makes Fiyero feel more confident and capable... either way, Peter is not complaining.

Fiyero moans above him, fingers tightening in his hair to pull Peter forward, manhandling him casually to get the most pleasure. Peter's not sure he's ever been more turned on in his life, and he doesn't know what that says about him, but luckily, his mouth is far too full for that kind of thinking. Peter moans and obliges Fiyero's filthy directive, curling his tongue beneath Fiyero's hard cock to create a warm, wet channel for him to fuck. His lips wrap taut around the turgid flesh, Fiyero's words echoing in his ears. You're mine. My darling Peter...

It's all he wants, at the end of the day, at the very embarrassing heart of it all. Someone who wants him, who claims him; someone he can call home. Making Fiyero feel good in exchange? What a privilege, and Peter treats it as such, trying his best to make it as pleasurable as possible. Fiyero edges towards the back of his throat, and Peter squirms - hips still chasing the what little friction he can, arms trapped tight behind his back.

Fiyero could do whatever he wanted, like this. He could choke Peter with his cock, demanding to be pleasured before he'd allow Peter air. The hints of it that he gets, when the head of Fiyero's cock pushes just a little too far, fucking into his red face - Peter shivers, an involuntary reaction, whining around the intrusion. Peter would let Fiyero do whatever he wanted, really. His lips are starting to puff from the steady fucking, slick with spit, messy - but Peter can't worry about what a state he's in, ass flexing again as he grinds towards the bed, sparks of pleasure flickering in his gut with each thrust.

"Do you like this, sweetheart? Being my toy?" Fiyero asks, voice breathless and shaking slightly with the effort. But saying the dirty fantasies aloud makes them more present, and he hopes they'll do the same for Peter, make him fully lose himself to them. "You look so good wrapped around my cock. I could keep you like this, for whenever I wanted to use you. I could put the toy in you too-- Fuck.. Turn it up high, make you come till you lost your mind while I was fucking your other end..."

Fiyero whimpers, his thighs shuddering. He rests his hips against the bed, instead pulling Peter's head up and down, demanding but shallow thrusts as he pulls Peter onto his cock, giving Peter a brief break as he keeps himself hovering on the edge. His legs close in around Peter, shins touching Peter's arms, thighs bracketing Peter's head. Touching more of Peter while also reminding him he can't touch in return.

Another whimper from Peter echoes through Fiyero's cock and then out through his chest, and Fiyero's hips jerk involuntarily, glad he wasn't deep. But he can feel himself getting closer, so this is about as much warm-up as he can let Peter have.

"Alright, baby.. Swallow," he commands, using considerable effort to thrust slowly as pushes deeper, demanding entrance. He holds it for one second, two, before he pulls back - and then thrusting again, staying there another two seconds, before letting Peter breathe again. His cock is aching, sending warm thrills through him, pleasure pulling under his taut abs.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Fiyero moans. "My perfect Peter. You can take it. Can you come like this, baby? Or have I tied you up too good? You wanted this.." Fiyero punctuates his word with another thrust into Peter's throat. "My toy. Nothing you can do about it now," he breathes, before his hips pull back again. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." His fingers tighten in Peter's hair, possessive and bordering on painful, before thrusting again. "Good boy, just let me use you. My darling Peter.."

Fiyero's head is spinning with the pleasure, so carefully controlled. He's watching Peter so closely, both for any signs of distress, but also for pleasure, as he tries to chase any friction he can get. Fiyero's words are designed to work Peter up, to reassure him while he reminds him of his helplessness, but they're also true. Fiyero's using Peter, and fuck does it feel good, but he's also doing his best to take care of him, to indulge his fantasies. The heady thrill of power he gets from doing so only intensifies his own pleasure, every surge signalling that he's close, starting to hang on by a thread.

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