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 just lets it happen, watching him come largely untouched. Peter feels the heat in his cheeks, blotchy and uneven; the tremble in his limbs, slowly settling back down from frantic jerks to a subtle tremor. The physical experience - Peter's had better, of course, the disappointment of a ruined orgasm leaving him aching - but he's also had worse. He can endure it, neither particularly liking or disliking it. What he likes - what he really, really likes, so much it all but punches him in the gut - is the way Fiyero is looking at him. Fiyero's looking at him like - Peter doesn't know how to categorize it, the hunger, the edge of possessive power, like Peter is the most incredible thing he's ever seen. It makes Peter feel warm, all over, a tingling sensation that makes the building desperation worth it. He agreed to try this - and likes the result, more than he thought he might - because it stokes that desperation, intensifies it, all so he can hand it over to Fiyero and bask in the wordless praise.

Fiyero can have Peter's needy whimpers, the frustrated tear that rolls from the corner of his eye - because Fiyero wants him, takes care of him. Fiyero's softness eases the ache of denial into something to be enjoyed, and the brush of Fiyero's lips against him, against everywhere raises delightful gooseflesh on Peter's skin. Peter's moan is thready, eyes wide and hazy.

The shiver calms, rolling over him like a wave; until Peter settles, pliant against the bed. He doesn't try to say anything, panting softly in Fiyero's ear as he murmurs praise. Peter does his best to listen, to relax. He likes listening to Fiyero, on more than just one level. It certainly doesn't hurt Peter's feelings that Fiyero's so unbelievably attractive - the low, rumbling tones of his voice a balm to something deeper, and also the inspiration for the persistent pull of arousal in his gut. Is there anything about Fiyero that isn't guaranteed to drive him out of his mind?

"There you go, darling... That wasn't so bad, was it?" Fiyero murmurs softly, still caressing Peter's hair, petting him, smiling softly at him. Gently wiping away the tear. "And I get to keep you nice and eager for me. Love seeing you so desperate for me... Right where I want you." He kisses the tip of Peter's nose, somehow making something so filthy seem sweet.

He's relieved Peter seems to have endured it just fine. Not upset, just a bit overwhelmed, but soaking in Fiyero's sweet words. Not completely out of it, but clearly in some sort of state. Fiyero feels in a strange sort of state too, that power and fulfilling responsibility, and the desire to make Peter whimper and writhe, then to comfort and protect him.

"I'm gonna clean you up now, darling," Fiyero tells him, figuring now is not the time for surprises or uncertainty. Knowing Peter, he's probably craving some comfortable closeness, and Fiyero doesn't want him to feel like he's withholding it, even if he's not giving it immediately. "Then when I've done that, I'm gonna reward you for being so good. Gonna let you have my cock in your mouth again. Give you a moment to relax a bit."

He kisses Peter's cheek, then cups the back of his head and reaches to pull away one of the pillows behind his neck, so his head can lie more flat, not so propped up. There's a gentle care to it, the way he doesn't even just let Peter's head drop, but placing it gently down on the pillow. He kisses Peter on the lips again, before purposefully and efficiently kissing his way down his neck, his chest - kisses changing to licks as he reaches the spatters of come, cleaning him up. Fiyero hadn't really imagined himself to even be doing that, but he's come to appreciates Peter's taste, and - well, it's also a very effective way to tease him further. Quite gently though, not trying to work him up further. Just maintaining that heat for a little longer.

Peter’s a little out of it, but not as badly as he was the time previous. Maybe by the end of this he’ll creep closer to that end of the spectrum - by the time Fiyero makes him come and it actually feels good - he can’t think about it right now or he might go a little bit insane. Being tied up has never felt like a struggle until this moment - but Fiyero keeps touching him, murmuring sweet things to him like he knows just how to walk Peter back from the edge.

He makes a soft noise of approval when Fiyero reveals his plan, letting his head roll to the side as Fiyero kisses his cheek. It’s the only part of himself he really can move, but it feels difficult to coordinate, like his body’s not responding so immediately. Luckily, Fiyero is watching out for him, warm hands catching his head and gently lowering him to the pillow. God, what had Peter done to deserve him?

Peter kisses him back with a low groan of happiness, making a noise of dissent when Fiyero pulls away. It’s quickly replaced with soft whimpers as Fiyero sets about licking up his release, gentle passes of his tongue over Peter’s heated skin. There’s nothing performative about Peter’s reactions in this moment - he’s not even fully in control of the nonverbal noises coming out of his mouth, the trembling that starts again as Fiyero gets lower and lower, down his abdomen. It’s not too much, blessedly, but it definitely hasn’t helped tone down Peter’s erection.

But he gets Fiyero’s cock, after this - don’t worry, Peter hasn’t forgotten. How could he? It’s all he wants, to be close to him. Fiyero’s cock in his mouth and his hands most likely, weaving through Peter’s hair, holding him…

Just the thought of it sends another wave of heat through him, cock drooling idly on his stomach. Back to leaking precome, like a tap he simply can’t turn off. Not while Fiyero has him like this. How many times could he go before he loses it? Maybe one day they’ll have the time and space to test the answer…either way, he’s handing over that power to Fiyero. Peter wouldn’t want to give it to anybody else.

It doesn't seem to stop being satisfying, drawing those noises out of Peter. Him being so vocal is a good thing, it really communicates what he's feeling, and Fiyero is getting more and more practiced at deciphering it. It also means Peter won't or can't hide it if something is wrong, if he needs something that he's not getting. It's reassuring.

It's also hot. And it's gonna feel great, humming through his dick. Fiyero's not exactly hard, but he does have the beginnings of a chub. At this point, he probably will get an erection. Maybe not as immediately and intensely as Peter gets him, but if he tried to compare himself to Peter on that front, he'd surely go insane.

Probably to Peter's surprise, Fiyero doesn't return up to Peter's face when he's done cleaning him up. He sits up a bit, adjusting, letting his hand caress across Peter's chest, more like a reassuring pet than something deeply sensual.

"Alright, baby, let's just relax for a bit, shall we?" he says, reaching up to hold Peter's chin for a moment, touching his bottom lip with his thumb. "Let me use that pretty mouth of yours."

He braces himself with his hands, lifting a leg over Peter's chest, except with his back against Peter's face. Fiyero's never heard the term "sixty-nine", but he'll probably laugh when he reads it in that book later. This is also why he made sure Peter's head wasn't propped up by too many pillows.

Fiyero adjusts so he's kneeling just above Peter's face, reaching down to touch Peter's cheek between his leg, guiding his not-entirely-limp cock to Peter's mouth.

Peter’s never been the best actor, and Fiyero is starting to become well-practiced at reading him. It’s reassuring, that he can just be himself and be understood. How often has that really happened for him in life? How lucky is he to find it now, in the most unexpected of places?

Peter stares up at Fiyero with wide eyes, totally absorbed with him as he sits up, hand brushing against Peter’s chest. It’s so casual, the way Fiyero handles him - gentle, but possessive, like he could just slip his thumb into Peter’s mouth if he wanted to. Well, he could.

Peter’s not sure what he’s expecting, nodding slightly when Fiyero says he wants to use Peter’s mouth - for Fiyero to get the solvent, to move him into a position he likes? - but Fiyero slinging a leg over him to straddle his face wasn’t on the bingo card. He gasps softly in surprise, blushing furiously as Fiyero settles over his face.

He can’t see anything but the valley of Fiyero’s thighs, acting like blinders on either side of his face. As if he’d even want to look away, when all Peter can see and feel is him. He whines wordlessly, parting his lips at the guiding touch, accepting Fiyero’s half-chub greedily. Peter doesn’t suck at first, letting Fiyero settle on his tongue, focusing on not choking. The new angle is interesting, and takes some adjusting - it’s probably a good thing Fiyero isn’t entirely hard, so he can seat himself most of the way into Peter’s mouth without choking him.

“Nnnnmm,” Peter moans around him, letting his tongue press up against Fiyero’s cock, a softer kind of pressure. It’s probably some kind of insane, to be so utterly delighted by getting to have a cock in his throat - but Peter closes his eyes and relaxes, finally feeling settled.

Edited 2026-01-01 19:37 (UTC)

"Good boy. Mmmm, you feel so nice, darling..." Fiyero praises almost lazily, humming with enjoyment as he settles into the wet warmth of Peter's mouth. If he was hard, it would be probably be maddening. As of right now, physically, it's just pleasant. But mentally...

There's something almost disrespectful about it. Not cruel, but... entitled. Especially the way his balls hang right in Peter's face - would probably be resting on his nose if Fiyero pushed further in. But he's intentionally settling his knees in close, keeping himself comfortably propped above Peter. So he can more or less relax without fear of smothering him. Just making himself comfortable using Peter, with Peter accepting it so willingly, happily. The power of it feels heady.

The reason he chose to arrange himself this way should become apparent pretty quickly, now he's arranged himself to fit in Peter's mouth. He tugs in the remaining pillows, stacking them right next to Peter's torso. Then he lowers himself, getting comfortable snuggling up to Peter.

His torso is slightly at an angle, not actually fully sixty-nining, avoiding Peter's cock. Instead it's like if he was cuddling up next to him, his head resting on Peter's shoulder, but in this case he's using Peter's thigh as a pillow. He curls one arm around Peter's waist, hugging him, resting against his side, propped up by the pillows. Giving Peter as much skin contact and cuddling as he can, using him as an upside down teddybear.

It's meant to be mostly calming, but the lingering arousal and sexual tension is hardly lost on him. How could it, when his own view is Peter's erection, still hard after the ruined orgasm, slowly dripping. Peter might now be able to see much, but he can no doubt feel Fiyero's stubble against his inner thigh, the warm breath gently washing over his groin, just close enough to be felt.

It's a very surreal but enjoyable experience. The mix of the possessive domination and the gentle softness of it all. The relaxed cuddling against the simmering arousal and need. Fiyero lets out a content sigh.

To someone on the outside looking in, it probably looks utterly, decadently filthy - Peter, used as a cockwarming body pillow, and loving it. Fiyero’s body is held close over his face, obscuring his sight, pressing his body heat ever closer, the scent of his skin overwhelming Peter’s senses. For someone as sensitive as he is, in all aspects - Fiyero’s taken care to make sure there’s nothing else Peter could even remotely be distracted by, right now.

If it’s entitled, well, Peter’s the one enabling him. Giving himself over to Fiyero, asking to be used. It’s what Fiyero asked earlier - to be toyed with. Peter had given it to him, feeling slightly selfish - but he understands, now. He understands how electric this can feel, as Fiyero settles on his thigh, relaxing languidly like he’s prepared to take a nap with his cock in Peter’s mouth.

It’s as calm as they can get when Peter’s this worked up, and it would be a bad idea for Fiyero to fall asleep like this for a whole host of reasons, but it doesn’t stop the fantasy that plays in Peter’s mind. Fiyero taking a catnap, waking up and fucking his mouth. Letting Peter suck him in his dozing, just enough to feel good without waking him. Peter, unable to touch himself, to touch Fiyero, just holding his cock in his mouth so carefully…

Peter whimpers the sound muffled and helpless beneath Fiyero. His limbs twitch, but he’s not trying to get out - just wishing he could touch, even more turned on that he can’t. He sucks, slow and needy, the heat of Fiyero’s body making his face even more flush. Fiyero’s breath washes over his erection, which twitches, smearing lightly against his stomach. He’s so turned on, so completely at Fiyero’s mercy, drunk on his cock and his affection - the longer this goes on the further Peter sinks, soft moans expressed around Fiyero’s dick.

Fiyero couldn't possibly sleep like this, but he too gets the appeal of the fantasy. To have Peter so contently at his mercy, able to just keep him like this for as long as he wants. Cuddling up and taking a nap as if this was just any normal snuggling session. Sleeping and waking and having sex, like it feels like they've been doing most of the day.

But then, even if it weren't for the fact he's very tuned into Peter's reactions, making sure his helplessness doesn't ever turn distressing -- Fiyero's also simply too excited himself. His heartbeat slows a little, resting like this, but not enough that it seems like he's asleep. He's turned on, his cock very slowly growing in Peter's mouth, even if he's purposefully not moving. Peter's sucking is enough to slowly build up his arousal.

He's purposefully not doing anything about it though. He's just lying there, his fingers idly caressing Peter's side where he's got his arm wrapped around him. Listening to Peter's sounds, watching his body. Making sure that twitching doesn't turn to urgent.

At some point, he does have to adjust a little, pulling his knees in tighter around Peter's head, his hips lifting a little. He could feel the way he was growing deeper into Peter's mouth. Fiyero's not too scared of properly choking him - Peter could turn his head away, or press it into the pillow to get more room. But he doesn't want him to feel like he has to, or to be scared or uncomfortable, probably ending up feeling like he'd failed at his job. It's Fiyero's job to make sure he doesn't demand more than Peter can handle.

"Mmmmhh, you feel so good, baby," Fiyero sighs, his voice sounding sleepy even if he's fully awake. "Could stay like this all day, probably. Well, until I got bored, and wanted to play with you some more, I suppose." Fiyero turns his head, kissing the inside of Peter's thigh.

"Or until I got too hard," he adds with a chuckle. He squirms his hips a little, moving against Peter's mouth without really thrusting, and moans softly. Even just adjusting his position a moment ago had sent little sparks of pleasure through him, and yeah, by now he's definitely hard, firm and hot against Peter's tongue. Maybe he's even starting to leak just a little himself.

"I'm so comfortable though, don't really want to move," he continues, as if musing about a casual conundrum. "Help me out, will you, baby? You've had a nice little break now, I bet you could suck me pretty well now."

Fiyero’s cock thickens in his mouth, and Peter does his best to swallow around him, saliva wetting his mouth easily, lips slick around Fiyero’s dick. It feels so good to be full like this - full of Fiyero’s affection, the proof of it tangible, physical. Fiyero’s fingers brush lightly against his side, making him wish to squirm - but Peter holds fast, lightly trembling as he submits to his situation. Fiyero can use him as long as he likes, and Peter won’t complain. Won’t ask for more, taking pleasure in serving him. Unless there’s a problem - in which case, Peter will let him know, make it known, at Fiyero’s request, so he won’t hurt himself.

Fiyero pulls his hips back and Peter whines, craning his neck to try and keep the cock in his mouth. He’s sluggish to realize it’s just so Fiyero can keep him from choking, but settles back down on his pillow, swallowing around Fiyero again - thick, delightfully hot in his mouth, Peter whimpers and quiets, eyes half-lidded. Fiyero’s words, the kisses up the inside of his thigh - Peter’s whole body feels flush, slowly ramping back up. The desire was never gone, but this is a slow, intense burn, working them both up sensually, despite the utter debauchery occurring.

Peter can taste him, stronger now on the back of his tongue, and he sucks slowly, savoring it. Fiyero doesn’t want to move, happy to luxuriate in Peter’s mouth, and Peter doesn’t want him to move. Doesn’t want to let him go, wants to keep him there for as long as he’s allowed to - making Fiyero happy with him. Pleasing him. His own cock drools against his stomach, but Peter feels disconnected, focused solely on Fiyero. Maybe he’ll get to come again - maybe Fiyero will ruin it, maybe he won’t get another satisfying orgasm - but he wants Fiyero’s.

Peter hollows his cheeks with another soft mewl, starting a slow, wet, rhythmic suck around Fiyero. His tongue undulates, massaging his prince, lavishing him with attention. Fiyero’s balls hang in his face, nearly brushing him, and Peter’s only regret is that he can’t shower them in equal attention as he slurps around Fiyero’s cock. His arms twitch, as if he’s trying to anyway - not really trying to get out of his bonds, but absently, movements he would have made otherwise. It goes to show how gone he is, completely consumed with Fiyero.

Fiyero groans appreciatively, soft and deep in his chest. Letting Peter know his efforts are worth it, that Fiyero is enjoying himself. Even if he didn't make it known like that, Peter is the only one who would be able to hear Fiyero's heartbeat ramping up, his breaths getting deeper and faster. But Fiyero is generous with his noises, little sounds of pleasure, tiny moans and whimpers and hums as Peter keeps going, the pleasure building inside him.

He doesn't want to rush it, for either of their sakes, but he does start rolling his hips after a minute or two. Not quite thrusting, but slipping maybe half an inch in and out of Peter's mouth, making himself moan deeper.

"That's it, darling... You're doing great," he encourages, his voice deep and soft, heavy with breath. "Mmmhh.. That's perfect..."

And it is. Thrills of pleasure shooting up through Fiyero's spine, gathering in his belly. Not too overwhelming, not too little, just building at a steady pace. Not urgent, just enjoying the ride. Letting himself take advantage of what Peter's offering, trusting him to let Fiyero know of his boundaries, if they're approached.

But Fiyero's not doing anything extreme. If he were to push at Peter's boundaries, it would probably simply be because of how long they've been doing this. The build-up of need from all the teasing and the refused pleasure. Peter has had one satisfying orgasm, and that's probably a good thing now. If it weren't for that, he's not sure how Peter could be holding it together.

"Fuck, that's good..." Fiyero breathes, sounding like he's talking to himself, but of course it's for Peter. Even Fiyero using him, it's just as much for Peter, if not more. He knows how fulfilling it can be, having learned pretty quickly in the last few days, and he hopes Peter is feeling that satisfaction of being wanted and needed and useful.

There's tension building in Fiyero's body, and he finally pushes himself up - off of Peter, no longer snuggling him, but needing to have the leverage of his arms supporting him as well.

"Your mouth feels so good, Peter. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. Just let me fuck your mouth, that's it, baby," Fiyero rambles, reassuring Peter. Making him know he's not pulling away to deny him - it's only so he can serve his purpose better. And it's evidenced by the way Fiyero’s hips start moving more, shallow thrusts into Peter's mouth. Pressing against his tongue, approaching the back of his mouth, but not yet pushing into it. Warming him up.

Fiyero presses deeper, and Peter feels his self-consciousness start to slip away even more than it already has, bit by bit. Like Fiyero is fucking him deeper and deeper into this space where Fiyero’s cock is the only thing that matters - the noises Peter gets out of him, each a reward; the ache in his own body something floaty, disconnected. Fiyero’s using him, and it’s starting to get difficult to remember a time when he hasn’t. When this wasn’t Peter’s purpose, because it feels so good that it must be, right? Fiyero murmurs to him - and it is for him, but his cock twitches at the casual nature of it, how it sounds so incidental. Fiyero’s just enjoying his mouth, fucking down towards his throat, like it’s what he’s meant for.

Fiyero lifts up and Peter whines helplessly in protest, tears pricking his eyes when he thinks Fiyero might move away. No! He wants it, so badly. He would beg for it if he could, and the whimpers around Fiyero’s dick sound like he very well might be begging, pathetic and needy. He wants Fiyero more than he wants his own release, more than he’s wanted anything in a long, long time.

And of course, Fiyero is dedicated to giving him what he wants. Peter should have known, but he’s slowly getting more disoriented, losing track of how long he’s been trapped there. Just let me fuck your mouth, is clear enough instruction, and Peter makes a soft noise of assent, swallowing around Fiyero and easing up on the suction to make it easier for Fiyero to fuck him. He relaxes into the pillow, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as Fiyero picks up a rhythm, rocking his hips into Peter’s face.

It’s hands down the dirtiest, sexiest thing Peter has ever done, and it starts to feel unbelievably good. Peter’s noises trail off into lewd, wet sounds and tiny, reedy whimpers, pulled out of him with each thrust of Fiyero’s cock, as he works deeper and deeper. Slowly, Peter goes pliant - keeping his teeth out of the way, his tongue up to provide an easy, wet slide back and forth - but otherwise malleable, drooling around Fiyero’s dick.

If the two of them a week ago could have gotten a glimpse into the future of what they were doing now, they would no doubt be so embarrassed and shocked they'd both want to sink into the ground, beet red and mortified and probably secretly turned on in some deep part of them. It's strange how it now feels so easy, so right.

Fiyero is perfectly in tune with Peter's body, but he's not worried about him. He can feel the way he relaxes, the way he submits himself to Fiyero's needs. If anything, he might be worried about how deeply he's sunk - but Fiyero has sunk deeply in his own way too. He'll take care of Peter. It's what he's meant for to. To have Peter, to enjoy him in every way, to care for him and use him and play with him. Nothing bad is going to happen to Peter while Fiyero's looking after him, and in return, Peter makes Fiyero feel like this.

Fiyero groans roughly, panting now. Occasional swears slip out, in amongst Peter's name, thoughtless praises and encouragements, and sounds of pleasure. His hips thrust deeper, demanding more of Peter, but also feeling exactly how far he can push, like they're synced. "Swallow, darling," he moans, and Peter is obeying everything without question or hesitation.

Fiyero's moan when he fucks into Peter's throat is loud and shameless. It takes some effort to control his pace, but he does it. While Peter is giving up control, Fiyero is tightly hanging on to his.

"I could make you come right now," he says, his voice rough with harsh breaths. "Just to see what it would feel like when I'm buried in your throat." An orgasm for Peter where his pleasure was incidental to the real purpose of increasing Fiyero's pleasure - it's intoxicating. He could even ruin it, just to see how the frustration would impact Peter, how it would crash against his satisfaction at being used.

But no, Fiyero's only talking, only sharing dirty fantasies to excite them both. While some part of him imagines he has the right to do whatever he wants with Peter, that still doesn't mean he'd be reckless with his wellbeing.

"I bet it would feel amazing... See you shaking under me, because of me, while I'm buried inside you," he continues, rambling even as he's almost forcing the words out, feeling himself getting closer. "But I'd rather see your face, darling. When I let you come, I want to see your pleasure. Fuck, Peter, you're amazing... So beautiful.. So good for me.."

Oh God, if the Peter Parker of a week ago knew about the absolute sex-bomb Fiyero would unleash on his life - he wouldn’t believe it, for starters. Wouldn’t even dream of it. It feels like his dreams didn’t start start until Fiyero showed him what was possible, what they could be together. As the sex gets easier, so does the rest of it. Peter wants Fiyero’s pleasure - but he wants his smiles, too. He wants to hold Fiyero’s hand when they walk down the street, wants to see him laughing in the sunshine. He wants to take Fiyero back to that ferris wheel and when Fiyero has that awe on his face again, Peter wants to kiss him stupid.

But first, he has a cock to suck.

Fiyero bids he swallow, and he does, holding himself still so Fiyero has the best opportunity to fuck him, as deep as he cares to. As much as Peter can take, he gets, choking lightly when Fiyero pushes deeper. His fingers clench and unclench, captured behind himself, but his mouth stays lax, able to take the fucking.

Fiyero casually mentions making him come, just to feel the way Peter would clench around him, and he offers a throaty moan, clearly on board. Anything Fiyero wants from him, he can have. If he wanted to ruin it, even, to listen to the way Peter would cry around his cock, milking it for every last drop of Fiyero’s pleasure. The image alone is enough to crank up the heat, Peter moaning helplessly beneath him, cock flush and turgid against his belly. It’s not the denial necessarily, but that it would be Fiyero denying him, deciding what he’s allowed. Using even his ruined pleasure to further his own…

Peter whines and gags eagerly around Fiyero, forcing himself to relax again so Fiyero can chase his pleasure to the final finish. Fiyero’s praise is getting more strained, quicker as he tries to hold on, and Peter hums, deep, letting the sound vibrate around Fiyero’s cock. Anything to give him more, to help him over that edge into bliss.

For Peter's it's not the denial that's sexy, just like for Fiyero it's not the selfish use that's sexy. It doesn't turn Fiyero on to be taking advantage of Peter while he's helpless, exactly. It's the fact Peter has given himself over to Fiyero, allowed himself to be helpless, because of that trust and that care. Just like Peter would get upset if it ever felt mean, so would Fiyero too. It's a gift they're giving each other.

This right now, that's what's hot. Peter seems to have given himself over completely, no resistance, no concern for his own need. His only focus seems to be on doing what Fiyero wants, on letting Fiyero take his pleasure. And it wouldn't be hot if it weren't Peter there under him, lovely, wonderful Peter who wants to give him everything.

Fiyero's orgasm takes him a little by surprise as well, and it's more the emotion of it all that gives the final push. Or maybe it's the hum - he doesn't know. But it happens quick when it does, that wave of pleasure washing over him, making his muscles tense, a rough cry of ecstacy torn from his throat.

His only remaining control goes into managing those last few thrusts, stopping himself from pushing too deep as ejaculates into Peter's throat, then still spilling into his mouth as he pulls back for a last thrust. Peter will still get to taste the orgasm he earned for Fiyero, no worries there.

Fiyero stills, hips pulled back but with half his cock still resting in Peter's mouth as he pants heavily. "Good boy," he breathes, the only thing he can manage right away. But probably the most important thing too, so it will have to be enough.

There’s no verbal warning that Fiyero is about to come, but the physical signs are more than enough warning, especially when Peter is this close to him. This close to trembling thighs, hips that quicken as Fiyero’s pleasure intensifies. Peter’s so turned on he can’t even fully fathom it, enjoying the symphony of Fiyero falling apart around him, inside of him. His thrusts are harsh, staccato, a stuttering handful as Fiyero cries out and shoots down his throat - but never too deep, always careful. Peter feels warm all over, moaning wantonly around him, hoping to elongate Fiyero’s pleasure as much as he can.

The taste of his release floods Peter’s mouth, and his own hips jerk, cock slapping his belly. It’s so hot, everything about it driving Peter out of his mind with desire. He swallows greedily, drinking Fiyero’s gift down without hesitation, and moans again, eyes hazy and unfocused as Fiyero pulls his hips back - God, he’s so fucking sexy, from every angle. The praise sends a wave of heat to his cheeks, and Peter makes a happy noise, tipping his head up to take as much of Fiyero’s cock as he’s allowed to reach before he sucks. Deep, intentional, the closest he can get to a nonverbal thank you.

He was good, and Fiyero rewarded him. His good boy. Peter swallows again, hollowing his cheeks, and letting his tongue press up against the underside of Fiyero’s cock. He’ll be clean, by the time he slips free from Peter’s lips. A good boy wouldn’t leave him with a mess…

Fiyero trembles as the last waves of pleasure wash over him, the moans and suction sending little sparks, Peter doing a very good job drawing out every bit of pleasure. Peter's thank you is rewarded with a soft whimper, bordering on too much - but so good.

He leans down to press a kiss to Peter's hip, another thank you and reassurance, as he's about to pull away.

"Alright, relax, darling," he says, voice still heavy, but the tone is sweet. "That's enough, thank you." He shifts, pushing himself up to pull out and swing his leg back over Peter. But as soon as he's capable, he makes sure to be touching Peter, staying close. He has no idea what state of mind Peter is even in by now.

His limbs feel heavy, the afterglow flooding his body, making him relaxed and content. And it's nothing compared to seeing the expression on Peter's face, flushed and dazed, but also happy, maybe proud. His eyes don't even fully seem to focus, but Fiyero smiles warmly at him anyway.

"How lucky I am to have you, baby," he says, kneeling besides Peter as both his hands cup Peter's face. "So good for me. My darling Peter."

He leans in and presses his lips to Peter's, another reward for him. It's sweet and sensual, full of affection. Giving them a moment to ground them both, to look at each other and feel each other. Tasting each other and breathing each other in, Fiyero's hand weaving lovingly into Peter's hair, petting him. Before, when Fiyero had been teasing him, Peter had been desperate for this connection. Fiyero wants to make sure he doesn't even have to ask - if he even thinks to at this point - that he barely has a chance to release he needs it before it's granted.

Peter takes the direction beautifully, to relax, that it’s enough. Fiyero has had his fill, and now he wants to rest. Peter mumbles something incoherent as Fiyero pulls out of his mouth, lips puffed and pink from being fucked. He’s glad he doesn’t need to move, glad he’s already in repose because all of his limbs feel loose, divorced from the tension in his lower half - the arousal that burns, distant, second to the warm glow of Fiyero’s approval.

And it is warm, as Fiyero settles next to him, all long lines and sweaty, flush skin. Peter lolls his head towards Fiyero, staring at him, pulled in by Fiyero’s magnetism. By the power he’s handed over to him, power that needs to be slowly given back to ease Peter out of this place he’s in, of pure worship.

He gets a kiss, even, soft and slow, honeyed praise poured over him from Fiyero’s lips. It’s so much, Peter almost feels overloaded just from that - from Fiyero’s kind words, affectionate kisses, gentle hands, through his hair. It makes him tremble, some deeper, hungrier emotion pitting in his stomach, greedily absorbing the attention. But Fiyero doesn’t let him - keeps offering it to him, even as the tears well in his eyes without spilling over. Fiyero doesn’t let the intensity of anything scare him away - not their circumstances, and not this. Not Peter.

Peter sighs happily against Fiyero’s mouth, slowly going boneless again, peaking at overwhelmed and winding back down into deliriously happy. It’s like Fiyero knows just how to play him, how to toe the line on too much - physically, emotionally - and reel Peter back from it. They’ve been learning a lot about each other, and Fiyero is putting it to use.

Peter looks helpless in a completely different way now. Not just physically, trapped by bonds, but helpless to control himself, his movements or his emotions. Perhaps this is the loss of control he wanted to chase?

Whether Fiyero has succeeded in that regard or not, he isn't going to push it any more now. He's going to let Peter come, he's going to slowly untie him, he's going to soothe and clean and feed him, he's going to do everything to make sure Peter is alright. He might actually make Peter come more than once. Not consecutively, not to overwhelm him when he's sensitive. But simply to work out all of the built up tension. To get that proper release.

Fiyero feels very pleasantly full now too, happy to see Peter happy, to be so close to him. To share this ridiculous moment, feeling good physically and emotionally. It's a lot, and it could easily he overwhelming to Fiyero too. But he has almost too much control over himself in this moment. Perhaps it'll catch up with him later, but right now he has to take care of Peter.

Right now he does so by settling in next to Peter, cuddling up like he had before. Bodies pressed in close, head resting on the pillow next to Peter's, their faces hovering within kissing distance, whenever Peter wants to seek out more of them, or simply press their faces together.

He thinks to ask Peter how he's doing, but part of him almost doesn't want to make Peter think about it too closely. Like making him aware of aching muscles might make that ache more unbearable. He knows Peter can physically take so much, so he's more scared of hurting him emotionally than to injure him in some way.

Instead he lets Peter have a moment to come down from whatever emotional peak he's at, for everything to settle for a moment. Comforting him simply with his closeness, and of asking absolutely nothing of him for a few minutes.

"You've been such a good boy.. You can keep relaxing, baby," Fiyero whispers sweetly, once it feels like Peter has settled enough. "Just enjoy your reward. I just want to feel you close to me while you come." His hand wanders down Peter's side, lifting to wrap gently around his cock. "You can move if you need to, it's okay. Or just relax while I take care of you, Peter."

Peter had thought, perhaps, that they would test physical limits - and they have, to a certain extent. He can't get out of these bonds, not without going feral. Which...is definitely possible. Peter's been there, in life or death situations, unlocking a deeper strength than he thought he was capable of. If Fiyero truly worked him up past the point of no return - it's very possible that Peter rips a post from the bed, or pushes the webbing past it's resistance point. What he hadn't anticipated was how he would react, mentally, to being helpless, vulnerable. Vulnerable and safe, which is a rare thing for someone who often experiences vulnerability when he's getting his ass kicked. Desperation tastes different when it doesn't come bloody.

Fiyero snuggles up to his side, and Peter leans as close to him as he can - it pulls at the other half of his body strangely, proof of his interminable flexibility, until Fiyero gets him to settle. Peter nuzzles at Fiyero's jaw, working his way back to Fiyero's lips to take another kiss, after only a brief hesitation. Fiyero doesn't tell him he can't, and the offer seems implicit - so he does, relaxing when it becomes clear that Fiyero doesn't mind. That he just wants to lay there and snuggle, lazily making out when the urge strikes - which might be every thirty seconds for a minute or two, but given that Fiyero's the one that encouraged him to this needy place, he really only has himself to blame.

But Peter does settle, eventually; his breathing evens, his heartbeat slows. Not entirely - there's still a bit of a jump, a skip when Fiyero's hands brush over his stomach, skirting around his cock - but they're relaxing, just resting together. He still hasn't tried to speak, alternating between staring at Fiyero and lazing with his eyes closed whenever Fiyero decides to pepper him with kisses.

It's in one of those drowsy moments that Fiyero makes his move, wrapping a warm palm around Peter's fattened cock. He gasps, eyes fluttering fully open, hazy, staring up at Fiyero adoringly. His hips jitter, like he's trying not to move, but he seems to relax about it when permission is given. Splotches of color appear high in his cheeks, pupils wide, eating most of the brown.

"P-leease," The word is a whine, rough from Fiyero using him. It will heal quick with some water; his lips have already started, still pink, but the puffiness beginning to die down. Peter hasn't asked for water though - he doesn't want it. He wants to feel the roughness, the proof that he was good for Fiyero; he wants Fiyero to hear it in his voice when he's finally allowed to come. "Nnnm..."

Fiyero returns the kisses Peter seems out, leaning into them, silently encouraging him to chase what he wants. Any commands have been lifted at this point, except the command to relax - which is really to make him stop chasing previous commands. They'll take them one at a time, showing Peter can move, that he can ask, that he can chase his pleasure whether with his hips or his mouth.

It's the first step to giving him back his freedom and his control, lifting the verbal restrictions on him. Letting him ease back into getting to choose what to do, to take what he needs. It helps that Fiyero himself has experienced a bit of how out of it you can get. How difficult it can be to want to even do anything, to know that you can. He's seen it in Peter before too. After something this intense, he knows not to rush it, but also not to deny any requests Peter might have at this point. He's earned everything he wants to ask for, and more.

Fiyero's reward is the way Peter looks at him. Adoration and trust, fully earnest and open. Nothing hidden, no lies, no doubt. Just looking at Fiyero like he's the most perfect thing in the world, making Fiyero feel like maybe it could be true.

"You don't have to beg, baby," he offers sweetly, his hand moving slowly, his grip gentle. "I'm gonna let you come, properly this time. You just let it happen when you're ready."

He leans in to kiss Peter again, soft and sweet. Not claiming his mouth, not demanding the kiss even be returned, but offering it. His hand keeps moving, grip getting a little firmer, slow and steady. He might vary the pace, a few quick strokes followed by some slow, long ones, hand wrapping around the sensitive head. But he's not letting go, and he's not stopping. He doesn't expect it to take very long, even keeping a relatively relaxed pace. And if against all expectation, it does start to take a while, making him more desperate, well, he'll be more than happy to ramp up. But until then, he's just enjoying getting to watch Peter, feel his body against his.

“Want to,” Peter murmurs, lips parting on a low moan as Fiyero’s hand pumps him - God, it feels incredible. Not quite enough to get him there, not yet, but a pleasurable sensation at the hands of someone he cares so very much for? Peter’s in Heaven. He wets his lips, staring up at Fiyero with pure, almost innocent admiration. “I want…to beg for you. Good boys say please…”

Fiyero rewards him with a kiss, and Peter tries his best to reciprocate - but he’s easily distracted, gasping against Fiyero’s mouth when his grip gets tighter. He thinks it might actually kill him if this orgasm gets ruined - not that he thinks Fiyero would do such a thing after he already said he was going to let Peter come - but because he can already sense how intense it’s going to be.

“Yess, please, please ‘yero - ” Hips jerk up towards his hands when Fiyero presses up against that bundle of nerves with the firm curve of his hand, driving Peter wild. His slit drools eagerly, wetting Fiyero’s hand shamelessly. No, he won’t take long like this, worked up and desperate for it. In fact, the only reason he hasn’t come yet is Fiyero’s steady pace - not speeding up, nor slowing, keeping him steady, too.

“T-tell me,” Peter whimpers, and it feels depraved to ask, but he wants it and he’s too horny at the moment to think straight about how embarrassing it might be in retrospect. “Tell me to come, please? I want to come for you.”

He feels perverted for asking, but he also wants it so badly. He wants to be good, to get off while being Fiyero’s good boy. He got a taste of it before, but in the wake of what they just did…Peter can’t deny it turns him the hell on, and right now he’s just about fit to burst.

Fiyero will easily accept that Peter simply wants to beg - but he can't hide the soft surprise on his face as Peter says that good boys say please. It manages to be incredibly dirty and extremely innocent at the same time, somehow. But the surprise is quickly replaced by a warm, slightly wicked smile, and he nods, encouraging him.

He's also thrilled that, despite just how devoted Peter clearly is to be a good boy just now, he doesn't take it as an order not to beg. That he's able to state what he wants. It makes Fiyero feel surprisingly proud at how he's managing to walk the line between controlling Peter without making him feel like he can't ask for things.

Even more so, when he asks Fiyero to tell him to come. It makes his cock twitch, a muscle tensing despite being completely spent and soft at this point. That Peter doesn't even want this freedom, he wants Fiyero to choose. That the reward not just be granted, but be granted exactly according to Fiyero's wishes.

"You want me to choose when, huh?" Fiyero asks, voice syrupy. "Alright, but you're giving up your chance to choose when. I could keep you like this for ages, if I wanted... You're lucky I'm feeling generous." He leans in close, nuzzling into the side of Peter's head, pressing his lips to Peter's ear. "Beg me to come. Good boys say please..."

Peter is relatively simple in most areas, sexuality included. Fiyero has been awakening things in him Peter didn’t even realize were there, and this is no exception. The surprise on Fiyero’s face makes him feel flush, the sting of self-consciousness threatening - but Fiyero doesn’t let it consume him, encouraging and brilliant, after a beat.

“If that’s - what you want.” Peter agrees, blushing at the very idea. Another time, perhaps, when Fiyero can tie him up and keep him there for hours. Would he even soften? Keeping him hard and aching, making him shoot all over himself - the pleasure empty until Fiyero allows it to be anything else…

But that’s not today, and Peter squeaks happily when Fiyero leans in to murmur in his ear, goosebumps rising on his skin. His hips hump up frantically towards Fiyero’s hand - as much as they can when he’s still tied down, which isn’t a lot, but highlights his desperation nicely.

“Please, Fiyero,” Peter’s begging is sweet, full of innocent desire and frenzied, hoarse babbling. “Please let me come. I’ll be so good for you, baby. I’ll come so pretty for you.”

He squirms, Fiyero’s hand hitting that sensitive nerve again, the flush tip of his cock engorged and red as it peeks from between Fiyero’s fingers. God, every time he thinks he can’t get harder, he does. That’s just what Fiyero does to him. “Please, I’ll be so good. I’ll be the best, I’ll - I’ll lick your hand clean, I’ll do anything you want baby, please let me come - ”

Fiyero's honestly amazed Peter's able to form words, much less beg this prettily. Promising things, whatever he thinks Fiyero might want, whatever it seems like you should be doing when you're a good boy.

"Not yet, baby... Not until I say.." Fiyero answers, whispering dirtily into Peter's ear. Pushing him to the edge, challenging him, forcing Peter to hold the orgasm back, to even make him try to escape his grasp because Fiyero is forcing him to come when he's not allowed to.

... At least that's what Fiyero wants it to feel like, at least for a few torturous moments. In reality, Fiyero is paying more close attention than he has to anything in his life. Watching Peter's reactions, gauging his desperation, keeping his strokes measured in a way that allows for very steady, slow stimulation, even with Peter's squirming. And of course, ready to order Peter to come the moment he sees it happening. He's doing his best to set Peter up for success.

But even so, he doesn't push his luck. He lets Peter have a few moments of desperation, of thinking he's not going to be able to hold on, that he's going to fail Fiyero.

"Now, come for me, Peter," he orders, his voice firm and sweet and wicked all at the same time. And as he commands it, he tightens his hand around Peter's head, his thumb rubbing across the red tip, his strokes turning more intense, irresistible. He even presses his thigh up between Peter's legs, pressing up against his balls - and he moans right into Peter's ear.

Peter whimpers, shivering pleasantly as Fiyero's low, filthy whisper washes over his ear, breath hot on his neck. He's so close it's almost dangerous, but he wants that mental pleasure, too, that comes from obeying. Both, at once? He'll lose his mind. But not yet, not yet, he has to hold his shit together and not come.

Which is easier said than done.

For a moment, Peter thinks he's going to fail again. The hand on his cock is just a little too good, and tears of frustration well preemptively in his eyes as he shudders, trying to hold it together. Even if Fiyero does keep stroking him, doesn't decide to punish him by ruining it, it won't feel good to disobey. His begging has faded back into needy whimpering, fingers fisted in the bedding beneath him. "Please, F-Fiyero..."

Then Fiyero finally, finally tells him to come, and Peter obeys instantly. His whole body jerks up into the blissfully tight grip Fiyero's offering him, release flooding through him, a rubber band snapped. He shoots over Fiyero's fist, all over himself for the second time - Peter wouldn't be surprised if some of it hit him in the face, honestly. He's too far gone to even notice, moaning shamelessly, head tipped back against the pillow as the orgasm rips through him. The thigh rubbing against his balls, Fiyero's throaty moan directly in his ear - Peter's hips thrust up towards Fiyero's hand, gaining more leeway than he has before. They snap back to the bed due to the webbing holding them in place, but he writhes anyway, chasing every last ounce of pleasure.

He feels insane, like it's lasting forever, an endless instant. His front is a mess, cock dribbling over Fiyero's fist, like his body is making up for the disappointing orgasm from earlier. Peter groans wordlessly, feeling dizzy, hips stuttering into little circular motions as a secondary, soft shudder rolls through him - more come, spurting gently over Fiyero's fist. As if, by virtue of Fiyero making it a command, his body has decided to obey and wring everything it can out of him.

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