#useranyat

[mayahawkse]

always more yours; druig/reader

summary: The first time you asked Druig to take over your mind, he was hesitant.

word count: 2166

tags: mind control, established relationship, fluff & smut

a/n: this is genuinely the first fic i've written in five years since i was a virgin so feedback would really be appreciated :)) // Ao3

The first time you asked Druig to take over your mind, he was hesitant.

It wasn’t for lack of trust, or control, but rather a deep-seated fear that you’d come out the other side regretting the decision. Giving up your autonomy, sitting in your body as a passenger when you’ve always been the driver, the sheer alienness of it all. The first hand experience of his power, his influence. He was afraid you’d never quite feel fully in control again, once you lived for a moment with him at the helm of your mind.

His fear, however, was your intrigue. Everything that made him still at the thought of using you was everything that made you buzz with eagerness.

You wanted to be his, wholly and completely. And since he was already all yours, there wasn’t much he could do to say no.

__

One soft, blue night, the two of you are lying naked on the tufted rug that blanketed your living room, wet hair fresh from the shower staining the green fabric black. Druig’s fingers skimming your bare leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps that pale in comparison to the shivers he’s sending down your spine with his breath on your neck. Gentle, slow kisses where your neck meets your shoulder, back up to the edge of your jaw and behind your ear.

The sensation almost makes you laugh, and he can feel the little chuckle in your chest as you try to keep it from escaping.

“Am I funny to you?” He asks. His quiet, ragged voice travels through your ear into your cheeks, making you instantly red.

“Mm, only your face.”

He knows you’re challenging him, trying to make him a little bit angry. Mind control or not, he knows you. The lilt of your voice, the way you sit up on your elbows, tip your chin up and away.

Druig chases you with his lips, but his fingers hook around your thigh, and the barely there touch becomes inescapable as five little crescent moons carve themselves into your leg just enough to last in the minutes to follow.

You let out a small hiss as his grip holds, as his teeth pull your earlobe, as his tongue grazes up the edge of your ear.

“You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you, sweet girl?”

His voice is like walking on an unpaved road, rocks crunching and sliding underneath leather boots. You nod against him, and his vice grip loosens. He slides his palm up the curve of your body, between your breasts, up your throat, and fixes his hand around your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Use your words.”

You stare into his eyes, furious and excited that he’s dragging this out.

“Yes. I know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Druig adjusts his hand so his fingers are resting against the back of your head, his thumb under your jaw. He pulls you closer.

“And what…” he pauses at the sensation of your pulse quickening as he speaks, “am I going to do to you?”

Your breath catches as he presses his thumb into the side of your throat, “You’re going to make me yours. All yours.”

“That’s right, my good girl.”

A deep inhale is caught in your mouth when he presses his lips against yours, lungs starting to burn as he kisses you, over and over, refusing to let you catch your breath for the moment.

He whispers against your cheek, “Relax.” And just as you start to exhale, you’re no longer breathing.

It’s like floating in your own mind, darkness all around you. A warm blackness, like a bed of crushed velvet enveloping your body that isn’t your body. You can feel him controlling your breathing, and the air that isn’t air is crisp and cold. Like dragon’s breath in the winter, and dry ice against your skin, so cold it almost burns.

You don’t know where the feelings are coming from, how your hands feel heavier against your body, how the wetness between your legs is like a spring you’re swimming in. All you know is that you feel Druig, all encompassing and gentler than ever. You can’t see him through your eyes, but he’s there. You can still feel his body pressed against yours, and you can sense when he backs away to watch.

When he makes you touch yourself, it doesn’t feel like your hand. Fingers sliding along, grazing your clit, making you feel far, far away from your body. You were content, but at the whim of Druig, that contentment turns to desperation. With no control, the desperation is nothing you’ve ever experienced before. With his body pressed against yours, you could buck your hips into him, could pull him down for a kiss, could find ways to press him against you and bring you back from the edge of needing him so immediately.

Now, there’s none of that. The desperation is a deep green ocean washing over you, sea foam caught in your throat and salt scratching the void around you. It’s almost too much to bear, but you have no choice. There’s no escape from this feeling, but you know Druig will take good care of you. And just as you begin to feel overwhelmed, the high tide makes way to calm waters when Druig allows you to slide a finger into yourself, then two. Your desperation is sated by the knowledge that he’s controlling you, letting you feel good, making you feel good.

He makes you fuck yourself with your fingers, makes you buck your hips up, makes you desperate for yourself. And when your skin starts to bead with sweat, he stops you, raises your hand up to his waiting mouth, and takes them in, along his tongue, to taste you. He closes his lips around your fingers, sucks and licks until all that’s left is his saliva. He kisses the palm of your hand, along your arm, your shoulder, making you wrap yourself around him as he gets closer and closer to your lips.

Being wrapped around him in your mind is like melting into him, skin grafted to skin until you’re indistinguishable from one another. The last sensation you feel before being pulled back into your body is Druig sliding your hand up your body, settling on your throat and squeezing. It’s like a collapsing field of violet, sucking you into the ground as the folds of soft grass swirl into a tight ribbon, and when you come to, Druig is pressing into you.

Hard and throbbing, you gasp as if you’re taking your first breath. The sound of Druig’s laugh is grounding, and his hands rest gently on the side of your face as he steadies you, pulling out a little to keep from overwhelming you.

“Hey, hey. How’s my girl?”

You focus on his dimpled cheeks, the crinkles by his eyes, and when he sees you come back he moves your hand from your throat, holding it to his chest.

All you can do is pull him in closer, bury your head in his neck, and breathe slowly. Deep, languid breaths that hit his skin. You silently slide your hand down his back, to his butt, and press him further into you, letting him know you still want to feel him.

He turns his head to kiss your hair, breath catching as he thrusts in and out, still holding tight to your hand.

While the feeling of Druig inside you keeps you grounded, your mind is still swimming with what it felt like to be out of control. You can feel yourself throbbing with the combined sensations, both in and out of reality, you’re getting close.

Almost as if on command, Druig lets go of your hand and slides down to rub circles around your clit as he continues fucking you. Still slow, unbearably slow, you light up with desperation. Hearing Druig’s moans that are quickly turning into whines only makes it worse, knowing you’re both equally desperate for release, but eager to make this moment last as long as possible. He takes his hand away from your clit and runs it along your body, stopping at your breasts.

He pulls out of you, slides his cock between your thighs until the tip is resting against your clit. You look to see his thumb run against your nipples, making them perk up before he wraps his mouth around them one at a time, tongue wet and stiff. He circles each one with the tip, sucking enough to frustrate you.

You pull his head up to meet yours, “Sit on the couch, Druig.” You whisper, and he can’t help but kiss you before pulling away.

Druig sits on the couch behind him, legs spread and arms outstretched across the back cushions. His erection falls against his stomach, and he looks down at it and back at you, a smile across his face as if expecting you to give him what he wants.

You walk on your knees over to him, sitting on the floor and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“I want to watch you touch yourself.”

Surprise flashes across his face, and he hesitates before grabbing himself and stroking. You may not be able to control him from within, but you can sit here, on your knees, and control him nonetheless.

His head falls back against the cushion, eyes screwed shut, and heavy breaths escaping his lips. He was close before, but now he’s skirting the edge, every stroke threatening to spill into an orgasm.

You slide your hands up his legs, along his thighs, one hand continuing up his chest and the other grazing his cock on your way to his flexing biceps. He shudders at the touch, and you squeeze his arm, scratching your nails along the skin hard enough to distract him until he’s caught off guard by the feeling of your tongue on the tip of his cock.

He lets out a loud, stuttered sigh, and the hand that was previously on his dick moves to your head to guide you down. You take him in your mouth, tasting precum and feeling him get just the slightest bit more stiff. Once you feel that, you slide your lips off of him, and he grumbles.

Before he can protest further, you’re off your knees and straddling him. No more waiting, no more teasing, you’re going to make him come.

His hands grip your waist, and you’re barely sliding down onto him when he starts fucking you. Deep, intentional thrusts up into you, every thrust pushing you closer to him until you’ve collapsed atop his chest, unable to even try and regain any control.

“Kiss me.” His breath is shaking, but you’re eager to obey.

You press your lips against his, hot and messy, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths and along each other. He can feel when you’re close, once your lips are stuck open, chest heaving, moans escaping your throat atop each other until you’re burying your head into the couch cushion behind him.

The feeling of your body shaking against his as you ride out your orgasm only gets him closer to his. He grips tighter to your waist with one hand, fucks you faster, and pulls you by your neck back to his lips. You’re breathing heavily, still loving the feeling of his cock inside you, but you give him what he wants.

You kiss his lips, just as messy as before, but as he’s getting messier you pull away to suck kisses along his jaw, down his neck, behind his ear.

“Can you come for me, Druig?”

The sound of your voice, tired and soft, in his ear is enough to send him over the edge. He bucks up into you once more before you hear his breath catch and his arms wrap around you, forcing you against him as close as possible. He kisses your hair and your forehead and your cheeks, everywhere he can reach as you feel his come seep out from between your legs.

His arms slide away from you and fall slack on the couch. You collapse atop him, and he laughs.

You look up at him, throwing his words back at him, “Am I funny to you?”

He shakes his head, dimpled smile stuck on his face.

“No, it’s just–” Druig moves a hand to stroke your hair, his eyes glistening with sincerity, “I think I’ll always be more yours than you will be mine.”

You bring a hand to his cheek and run your thumb across his cheekbone, a smile crossing your lips. The absurdity of a mind controller being at the mercy and whim of his mortal love.

He presses his forehead to yours, and you feel pure love welling in your chest. Overwhelming, heart-aching love.

As you hold each other, you know what he’s making you feel is him.

And you know he’s right.

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