I Need To Ride Fritz Ludwig So Bad.

you know what this world needs? more needy doms. doms who can't pin their sub's hands for too long because they want to be touched so badly. doms who break after the first "please". doms who can never seem to pull their sub closer when they're fucking them. doms who whine in harmony with their sub bc they both feel so fucking good. doms who will force their sub to their knees the second they're alone. i love intimidating cold doms as much as the next guy but i adore doms who clearly want you as much as, if not more, than you want them.

Finally had the chance to listen to the BLU Team audio, and god the whole thing took me out but I can't stop thinking about Medic's segment.

Something about the small check-up he gives before progressing, how casual yet careful he is as he gives you another shot of the aphrodisiac. And, listen, him mentioning almost giving himself one before admitting he'd probably have skipped the turn order? That was hot, I'm sorry; something about how his patience only makes his desire for you so much stronger.

Literally something about his praise hits different and I can't pin it. Maybe it's the way it practically comes to leave him like a prayer towards the end. Maybe it's the awareness that he knows how flustered it makes you, that light teasing mixed with his complete sincerity, the small teasing edge gradually caving apart as his release gets closer.

His MOANS. HIS GODDAMN MOANS. HI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELLO-- The way he practically gasps out a moan when he enters you, how his desire is so overwhelming that he practically moans with every breath that leaves him. Something about how close he is to you too, how he seems to be so close to the crook of your neck and practically moaning in your ear.

How he TEASES. How you can almost feel the breathless grin in his voice as he talks about future evenings and possible experiments, and just how he knows it excites you because he feels you clench around him but wants to hear you say it.

GOD. HIS FUCKING WHIMPERS. How when he gets close to his release, his words leave him in breathless pauses and whimpers. How he almost seems to hold you closer to him as he whimpers in the crook of your neck, how each last thrust brings his pitch higher in the pleasure of it before he cums inside of you. That's fucking hot as hell and also maybe made me have to stifle a moan, what the FUCK.

And the way he says "good girl" to you over something as small as drinking water or not flinching over getting a shot. Sort of like he wants to praise you in anyway over anything because he cares and also know the praise would fluster you- OUGHGH

And the sounds he makes during it. His composure and mild teasing breaking with each thrust until at the end where he is just gasping and whimpering praises to you. The sounds he makes when he reaches climax and cums in you goddamn.

Also the proposal for heavy to join in a later encounter and talking about how to position you for it, almost as though he's deep in thought over it and is kind of rambling due to being lost in the fantasy. I really like heavy too so im definitely biased.

YOUR LOVE IS LIKE B A D MEDICINE

B A D MEDICINE IS WHAT I NEED

I need to archive my strange robo art somewhere, why not tumblr

I need Fritz in a collar so bad, you don't even KNOW

just found out i've been abandoned by god which means he's not watching anything i do anymore. you should come over.

Want to be laid down and worshipped. Want kisses trailed all over my skin, praise whispered against my lips. Want them to take their time with me, making me melt and fall apart beneath them

So everyone talks about praise kink right? But I think there's something to be said for a reassurance kink.

"That's it, you're doing it right, darling, don't worry."

Any guidance through even the simplest of tasks.

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Feeling weight, like a hand resting on a shoulder or thigh.

Making eye contact and getting a smile and nod back that says, you're doing great, keep going.

Being hushed or swayed while receiving back rubs.

Being fully surrounded by their body while they say, "it's okay now, I'm here, you're safe."

Thinking...

Fritz, already feeling a sense of guilt regarding the weight of his cock in his hand, already feeling a small sense of both guilt and want for letting his thoughts drift to me...

Suddenly, when he hears my voice speak his name, there is a surge of panic and shame so powerful it properly jolts something in his chest, which runs down to his cock hard.

If he doesn't cum from the rush of the shock right then and there (oh God, oh God…the fight to stave himself is lost the minute he just barely manages to bite against his palm in an attempt to muffle the loud moan that pours from him, his cock pressed to his stomach as hot ropes of cum paint his chest…)…

...then he just barely manages to stave himself. He has to bring a palm to his mouth to bite back the groan that leaves him, his other hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, slick with pre-cum he can see leaking from the tip.

No matter what, his breath is heavy; he only barely muffles the gasp that leaves him as his hands shake, heart stuttering. His breath hitches when he hears me knock, the words he wants to speak refusing to leave him. Any brace he could manage stills in the back of his throat when he catches my voice more clearly.

"I--you were calling out for me. Is everything alright?"

I'm thinking about Fritz again and JUST. Small orgasm denial thought. Just this pent up, stressed, craving thing who already feels a weight of both shame and relief just from having his cock in his hand, but then his thoughts wander to me, and he cannot hide the hitch of his breath as his cock jolts, the shame and want growing stronger.

His other hand covers his face as his pace on his cock grows, barely muffling the way he moans at the thought of my voice, of my hands being the ones to touch him…the hand on his face shifts to his mouth as he curls it into a fist, biting his knuckles after a particularly loud groan pours from his lips, but that barely manages to hide the whimpers that pour from him as he's fully pumping himself now, breath heavy as my name leaves him like a prayer--

His hand stops suddenly, stealing the air from his lungs as it firmly squeezes at the base of his cock. A hot sense of shame washes over him, hands shaking as he tries to brace himself to gather what little breath he can. Maybe he just barely manages to gather himself, drags himself to bed even as he can't quite quell the rapid thrum of his heartbeat, closing his eyes and feeling himself sink into a sense of want he's hesitating to fully let himself reach towards as his thoughts return to me.

me when the guilt coincides with the pent-up desire and as the guilt increase, so does the desire and need:

men should get on their knees and bury their face in between your thighs like they would die if they don’t taste you more often but that’s just me