link is flushed all the way up to his ears when you tug him down onto the bed with you, his hair sticking to his cheek from the sweat he’s worked up earlier. he looks like he’s waiting for you to say something, like he’s bracing for a demand, but you just pat your thigh and pull him close.
he’s already hard when you slide his trousers off — thin and twitchy, a soft pinkish tip that’s leaking more than he probably realises. not huge, not intimidating, just…him. perfect in a way that makes your mouth water because it fits you so well every single time. it’s the kind of cock you can get addicted to, small enough to press deep without hurting, but stiff enough to make your toes curl when he moves just right.
but tonight, you don’t want him to move at all.
you guide him in, slow, sinking down onto him until you feel the weight of him snug inside you. link’s jaw goes slack, a sound spilling from his lips that he tries to swallow down, and you shush him with a hand on his chest. he’s so warm inside, filling you in a way that makes your belly thrum with need, but instead of riding him like he expects, you just stay there, shifting until he’s seated all the way.
his eyes fly open, blue and panicked. “y-you’re not—?”
“shh,” you murmur, stroking over his ribs. “just wanna keep you in me. nice and full.”
the poor boy trembles. his cock twitches inside, leaking, every throb making your walls flutter around him. he’s sensitive, always so sensitive, and you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to buck his hips.
you nuzzle into his neck, lips brushing his pulse. “you feel so good, link. small and perfect, keeping me stretched juust right.”
he whines at that, biting down on his lip. your cunt clenches around him lazily, not even fucking, just holding. your warmth swallows him whole, sticky and tight, and his hands fist the sheets because he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
time stretches out like this — link buried inside, his cock twitching helplessly while you breathe against his throat, your thighs hooked around his hips to keep him caged. the intimacy of it has him melting, shaking from restraint, little gasps slipping out every time you squeeze around him without warning.
“you like being my plug, hm?” you tease quietly, voice soft and mocking all at once. “just sitting here, letting me keep you inside like this.”
his whimper is muffled against your hair, but his cock gives you the answer for him. he loves it. loves being used like this, even if it’s just to keep you full and satisfied.
and gods, the longer you stay stuffed with him, the more your body hums with a lazy heat — like his small, pink cock was meant to be in you forever.
content: nsft, link (totk) x reader, d/s dynamics, fem!reader, miss/ma’am, pegging, soft dom!reader, no desc. of readers body
word count: ~700
You feel him nuzzle against your chest - check pressed across your tight fitting shirt.
“Warm…” he mumbles in a soft voice.
As you reach over to grab something from your desk, he suddenly seems a lot less calm, hands that were softly grabbing onto your hips suddenly digging into your skin.
“H-hah… ma’am…” he whimpers out as he throws his head back . “P-please…”
“No.” you say in a firm voice. “You’re not getting anything until I’m done with this essay.”
“Mmh-mmh…” he nods in agreement.
He’s been like that for 20 minutes now, you buried inside him whilst you work on an essay - and he gets nothing. No touching, no grinding, no asking for more.
His hands rest on your hips, occasionally grabbing your chair, but he doesn’t dare put them even near his dick. It’s throbbing, but all it’s getting is the occasional rub of the fabric of your shirt.
He has been begging for your touch for the entire day - but long classes at your uni, and you working on an important essay afterwards had made it difficult.
But you had come up with a solution to keep him entertained. Your strap. He’s sitting on your lap, whilst you sit on your chair at your desk, working on your essay. It’s a different one than the one you usually use, a few more ridges, but there’s no notable difference in size.
You had smiled mischievously at him as you helped prepare him to take it. “It’s different from what we usually use. I hope that it'll make you feel even better.”
So far, he hasn’t noticed any difference. Maybe you were wrong? But still, the pressure against that spot and how close he is to you, mixed with the burning humiliation of you being completely dressed, and him being nude - it’s enough to keep him excited.
You move again, and he whimpers. A “Please, ma’am…” escapes him before he can stop it.
You put your pencil down. “Mmh, I just need to write a few more words.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist and lean down to kiss his forehead. He’s once more made aware of your size difference - how much smaller he is in comparison to you.
“We’re going to try something new now, sweetheart, and if you don’t like it, please tell me immediately, okay? Then we’ll stop.” you say in a kind voice. His heartbeat quickens, both with excitement at what you’ve got planned for him, and with appreciation for how gentle you are with him.
“O-okay, ma’am.” he replies shyly.
Although he knew that he liked having a partner in the lead since he started dating, there always came some insecurities with it - it makes him vulnerable in a way he’s not used to. But you have always respected and cared for him, always made sure that everything was enjoyable for him…
You reach down to the strap and press a small button at the very base that he hasn’t noticed before. The toy inside of him starts vibrating.
He’s never felt something like this before.
Sure, you thrusting in and out of him felt good, but this is different.
He moans, loudly, and can’t find it in himself to stop.
“Ah - hah - w-what is? G… good…” is all Link manages to say. He squirms around and a fucked-out giggle escapes against his permission. “Th…tha… thank you… feel… good!”
You smile at him and gently kiss his forehead as you continue writing your essay.
“Sweetheart?” you ask in a kind voice.
“Y…yes…” he looks at you with a blissful expression as the strap whirs away inside of him.
“You can touch yourself, feel free to move all you want.” you instruct, “but… no cumming, okay?”
He pouts, but nods.
After a few minutes of the strap vibrating against him, he lazily starts humping his own hand. There’s no more structure to it, he’s too dumbed down to think properly. Link is still murmuring phrases, and occasionally drools on your shirt - as you write the last word, he starts frantically begging to cum.
“Ple-ase… miss… feels- can’t hold it-“
“H-hurts…”
You put your pen down and your hands join his on his dick, gentle, planned out strokes and teases.
“Shh… you’re doing so well… I’m so proud of you, my knight…”
“You have my permission, sweetheart.”
This seems to really do it for him. “T-thanks…” he drools on your shirt. With a loud moan, he feels himself get pushed over the edge.
Apparently, I just couldn’t let Kinktober end without diving back in one more time. The suit Rhett wore on Fallon had me feeling all kinds of ways and this thing was born.
“Hey, I was thinking –” Link says as he steps back into their office. Rhett’s cough makes his head turn towards the couch and instantly, Link is on his knees, head bowed down, staring at the floor.
The reaction is almost unconscious, and it takes him a moment to understand why he’s suddenly on the floor.
Rhett is wearing the suit.
It’s the custom made, forest green one that Rhett wore a few years ago when they went to Fallon to promote their first novel. He never wears that suit to work. It’s the suit Rhett now only wears when they play.
Link’s heart is trying to beat out of his chest and he keeps swallowing as if that could calm him down.
The door! Link realizes suddenly, with gut wrenching horror. The door is still open behind him. Anyone could walk by and see him like this.
“Rhett, we’re at wo-work…” Link stammers, his voice clearly trembling. His stomach twists and tightens – equally excited and terrified. Link’s palms are sweaty and he wants to swipe them on his jeans, but he can’t. His hands lay palms up and motionless on his legs – just like their supposed to be.
“Excuse me?” Rhett’s voice is a slow drawl with an edge of menace threaded into it. It sends shivers running down Link’s back. He’s done something wrong.
Link rolls back the tape in his head and almost chokes when he realizes his mistake.
“I meant sir! I’m sorry, sir.”
“I’ll let this one slide… If you do as I say.”
Link nods furiously.
“Good. I knew you’d be a good boy for me. Would you be a dear and get up, lock the door and get back where you were?”
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir,” Link stutters, and rushes up and to the door. The lock clicking soothes his nerves only a little, and when he’s kneeling back on the floor his heart has barely slowed down.
“Look at me, “ Rhett orders and Link gaze shifts up from the floor. Rhett is leaning against the headrest, arm slung casually on top of it, legs spread wide. He’s not wearing the jacket, it’s draped on the couch cushion next to him. He’s not wearing a tie either and a few of the shirts top buttons are unbuttoned. Link sees barely any of this; his eyes zero into Rhett’s crotch and the way his pants strain to keep his very apparent erection confined. Link licks his lips.
“Color, baby?” Rhett asks, the look in his green-gray eyes softening for a moment.
Link closes his eyes, to properly think on it. Do I wanna do this at work? Even with the door locked, it seems very risqué. Link is not known for his ability to keep quiet.
But Rhett’s there in the suit and Link’s never said no to him when he’s wearing that. Link trusts him, implicitly. He would never do anything to hurt Link or embarrass him in front of their employees. Link opens his eyes and meets Rhett’s gaze.
“Green,” Link says and swallows as heat pools in his belly in anticipation.
“Good. Come to me.”
Link starts to get up, but is stopped by Rhett’s frown and growl.
“Sir?” Link asks, voice wavering again. Did I mishear him?
“Did I give you permission to get up?” Rhett asks slowly, steely gaze trained on Link, who’s still in a half crouched position.
Oh.
Link slinks back down and gets on his hands and knees. He’s off his game; they usually only do this at home. Something about the change in setting is making him forget the rules that he usually knows in his sleep.
Link crawls towards the couch. Rhett’s licking his lips and palming himself, watching Link move awkwardly across the floor. Link sees his eyes glaze over with lust as he settles between his legs.
“There you go. Wasn’t that hard, was it?” Rhett says with a huff.
Link shakes his head.
Rhett moves, straightens out of the lean he’s been in and reaches for his jacket. Link doesn’t turn his head, but follows the motion with his eyes. They open wide when he sees Rhett pull a black, sleek bit gag from the folds of it. It has a thick leather strap and the part you bite on is a cylindrical piece of silicone. Just looking at it makes Link’s mouth fill with saliva and his cock ache from arousal. Rhett weighs it in his palm and looks down at Link.
“Do you think you can control yourself or should we use this?” Rhett asks, as if he’s giving Link a choice.
There is no choice, not really – unless he wants to stop.
Link has no desire to stop. He stares at the bit gag dreamily, like he can already taste it – he’s almost bouncing on his heels for it. He lets out a long whine. It’s low enough to not be heard outside of the office unless you would’ve been pressing your ear against the door, but it still sounds loud in the room. Rhett’s eyes flash and he tuts.
“I see. I better shut that pretty little mouth up, before the whole building knows that one of the bosses is a little loud-mouthed slut. But before I use this…” Rhett says, waving the gag in front of Link’s face. “I think I’ll use something else.”
Rhett lays the gag down on the cushion beside him and pops open his pants. He digs out his cock and gives it a few slow strokes, closing his eyes and hissing sharply from the pleasure. Link whines again, a taste of something new filling his mouth.
“Impatient?” Rhett asks with a low chuckle, but before Link can react, Rhett’s hand is in Link’s hair, pulling hard. Link yelps; the tug is sharp and sudden. He can feel his cock leaking into his boxer briefs as Rhett pulls him onto his cock and positions it against Link’s parted lips.
“Make me wet, baby.”
Link obeys. He dives for Rhett’s cock. He swallows it down; too keen to take a breath before it’s far down his throat and he sputters around it too soon for Rhett’s liking. Rhett tugs on his hair, pulls him off his cock, leaving an obscene string of spit between them. Link stares at it, transfixed on its gleam.
“Calm down. Take a breath. You’re gonna hurt yourself… And that’s my job.” Rhett yanks on his hair as the last words roll out his mouth and Link groans into the pain, his whole body electrified from it. He’s biting on his tongue not to scream.
Rhett lets go of him – leaving Link’s scalp tingly and pleasantly sore – and waves his hand indicating that Link can continue. This time he’s not as impatient; he breathes deep before wrapping his hand around the base of Rhett’s cock. He licks all around the head, eliciting small pleasured hums from above. When Link finally slips Rhett down his throat, he goes slowly, swallows around him, and makes him buck and shiver. Link stops just before his airway is cut off and stays there for a moment.
He loves the feeling of Rhett in his mouth like this. The fullness there is a reminder of another kind of fullness that almost always follows this one. Rhett’s head is whipped back, resting against the wall. His breathing is shallow and ragged. Link’s vision blurs and he draws in a labored breath through his nose. He’s starting to feel the familiar, blessed weightlessness that usually takes him over during play.
Link spurs back into movement when Rhett’s head rises back up. He backs up and bobs his head, rolling his tongue all over, making sure every inch of Rhett is shiny and wet. When he pops the cock off his mouth, he’s painfully hard and so ready to gagged and fucked that he almost wants to cry. He probably will, by the end of this, but that’s just part of the fun.
Rhett leans towards him and gently pets his head.
“Good boy. Now open wide.”
The bit goes between Link’s teeth. Rhett fastens it behind his head and Link rolls his tongue against it, testing the feel of it, enjoying the stretch of it at the corners of his mouth. He can already feel a dribble of saliva escaping his mouth and making its way down his jaw and neck. His cock jerks against its confines and Link feels impatient again – desperate to have Rhett inside him.
“Is that good?” Rhett ask and tests the tightness of the strap with a finger.
“Mmhmm,” Link mumbles through the gag. Rhett’s fingers grab his jaw and lift up his face.
“So fucking gorgeous, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Now… Strip.”
—
(I might continue this… Do tell me if you’d like to see more. ^^)
It had become a running joke. Like all jokes, there was some truth hidden underneath the humor. The part they hadn’t shared with the fans was the real reason behind Link’s blue balls. That reason was now towering over him, carefully studying his naked body.
“You been good, baby?”
“Yes,” Link said, keeping his hands at his sides.
“Haven’t touched yourself?”
“No.”
“Hmm,” Rhett frowned, trailing his fingertips down Link’s chest, to his belly, stopping just short of where Link most needed his touch. “If you want it, say it.”
“Please.”
Rhett hummed and moved his hand lower. “Good boy.”
