little purple bruises
two posts in two days?! what?! don’t get used to it.
warnings: smut (a bit more kinky than usual), swearing.
“Are you nearly done-?”
“Nope.” You replied firmly.
You were at the Phan apartment, sitting in the office finishing writing a paper. Phil was catching up on some “secret business” with Peej which he had refused to tell you about (though you’d get it out of him later you were sure), which left just you and a very needy Dan. Who, right now, groaned from the doorway.
“You’ve been working for hours. Can’t you just take a tiny break?”
“Dan,” you stopped typing and shot him a warning look.
“Fine. I’ll stop,” he sighed, moving to stand behind you. “I just really need you.”
“I know you do, but can you need me in like half an hour?” You asked, continuing to type.
He sighed heavily and sat on the floor next to you. You stopped typing again, and rubbed your temples. Dan, when he was aroused and whiny, was extremely persuasive. He’d beg, he’d tease, he’d even try to piss you off so you would have your way with him.
“You know what, fine. Go to the bedroom. Take your clothes off and get on the bed. Don’t touch yourself,” you instructed quietly. Dan, with one last triumphant smirk, was out of the room in a heartbeat. You gave him a few minutes head start while you saved your work, then made your way to his room.
He lay on the bed, as instructed, pale skin almost glowing, watching intently as you stripped to your underwear, and swallowing hard as you climbed onto the mattress, crawling up slowly until you hovered over him. You smirked, and fixed his minor fringe gap before lowering your lips to his jaw. He moaned at the contact, and his large hands automatically gripped your hips. You paused and pulled away.
“Nuh-uh. No touching. You know the rules. You interrupted me, so what does that mean?”
“I don’t get to touch you.”
“I don’t get to come until you tell me,” he choked out, voice thick with arousal. You grinned.
“Good boy,” you rewarded him with a kiss to the base of his throat, causing him to elicit a soft moan. You grabbed his wrists and pulled the leather ties out of the drawer by his bedside, binding them and tying him to the headboard. You weren’t gentle, and as soon as the leather secured around his skin he moaned again, louder this time.
“Mm, you like being tied up, don’t you, baby boy?” You murmured, which caused him to pull against the restraints, hips stuttering involuntarily, as he breathed out a “ohhh, yes, y/n, fuck.”
You smiled and slid down his body, leaving just the ghosts of kisses in your wake, while he squirmed below you, needing more contact. Dan, when in a submissive headspace, was not subdued. He exerted more energy with all the struggling than he did than when he was dominant, and was twice as vocal.
You planted an actual kiss on his side and hip, in the area he was insecure about, then kissed down his flesh until you reached his thighs. You spread them and nipped at his inner thighs, and heard him groan above you.
“Do you want me to touch you, baby? Want me to blow you? Hm? Is that what you want? My mouth?”
Dan let his head fall back with another groan at your words.
“Please,” he begged, “yes, please.”
“Hm,” you hummed against his thigh as you thought about it. “You did interrupt me, but I will, only because you asked so nicely.”
You licked up his length and kissed his tip before you wrapped your lips around his head, taking him into the back of your throat. If Dan had been moaning before, it was nothing compared to the erotic mewls and keens now leaking from his lips. You moaned around him, and quickened your pace, having to push his hips down into the mattress to stop his writhing and bucking up into your mouth.
“Fuck, y/n, let me touch you. Please,” he panted after a while, lean biceps straining against the bondage straps pathetically.
“Don’t push it,” you warned, almost a snarl, as you replaced your mouth with your hand. Dan’s pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink as he watched you lean up so you were eye level. You hovered dangerously close, mere centimetres away. His eyes flicked between yours and he let out a whispered plea.
You cocked your head to observe him, in all his ethereal desperation.
A tortured whine escaped his lips, but was quickly cut off as your hand swiftly circled his throat. His pupils, if possible, grew wider. You’d talked about his choking kink before, but had never acted upon it. That was about to change.
“I said, no. You don’t get to touch me. I get to touch you. You’ve been misbehaving, I think you deserve to be choked,” you whispered. The truncated moan in response was enough permission you needed. You tightened your grip, not enough to cut off his air supply, just enough to make breathing uncomfortable, and leave little purple bruises. He loved that, the hickeys, the scratches, the teeth marks. He liked to admire them afterwards, and kiss over the top of the ones he left on you.
He was getting close, you could tell by the way his thighs started to spasm. You continued pumping him with one and and choking him with the other, breathing praises down his neck as you did so, until he was shuddering as he tried to hold off his orgasm. You let go of his throat.
“It’s ok, kitten. Let go. Come all my over my hand, you know you want to.”
Dan needed no encouragement. His back was already arching off the mattress, eyes shut tight, screaming a string of profanities interspersed by cries of your name. By the time the shudders of pleasure had stopped wracking his body and he came back to reality, you’d freed him from his restraints and cleaned up his mess with a tissue.
“Was that ok?” You murmured, kissing his cheek gently.
“I- fuck. Yes. God, that was incredible.”
You chuckled softly and lay next to him, pulling him into your arms and pressing your lips to his slightly sweaty forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispered into your chest.
“Shh. You deserved it. Despite you pestering me all day.”
But he was already asleep. You smiled and traced your fingertips over his skin gently. It was a habit you’d developed, trying to memorise every millimetre of him. You paused when you reached his neck, admiring the little bruises you had left there. They looked like watercolour splotches on beautiful cream paper. You smiled into Dan’s hair and closed your own eyes, content in his warm embrace.