'cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart

[selfie_centered]

♦️🌹

and in the sea that's painted black
creatures lurk below the deck
but you're a queen and I'm a lionheart

CODE

Comments

[selfie_centered]

['just right' really is right. 'perfect for Riddle' is more correct. but then again, it's Riddle. anything would have been perfect, because it would be Riddle.]

Aw, c'mon. It's a compliment!

[the attention he's giving Riddle is somewhere on the spectrum between teasing and deliberate. there's no rush, he'd told Riddle, and he'd meant it. there's no reason not to take his time, to test out the limits— Riddle's and his own, really. he's switched to a slow, even stroke of the side of his knuckle up and down the curve of Riddle's dick.

aw, man. he doesn't usually get to play tutor to Riddle, huh?]

Lesson number one; 'cute' and 'hot' are not mutually exclusive.

For instance;

You are super-cute! And this—

[slow enough that Riddle could stop him if he wanted to, Cater dances his fingers over the waistband of Riddle's underwear and slips his hand through, craving that skin-to-skin contact. breathily against Riddle's ear;]

— is pretty hot.

[crimsontyrant]

[ Sure, Riddle said not to tease him, but this was different than the teasing from before. This was full of new experiences, and he was trying to savor each and every one of them. His breathing was ragged, shaky, as if he couldn't figure out how to steady it. Because he couldn't. He's so unfocused, unable to think more than a moment past this.

What is Cater even saying? A lesson? Riddle huffs, half amused half exasperated by his foolishness.

His body shudders under the sudden skin-to-skin contact, what he's been aching for, desiring more than anything.

And, really. It's increasingly attractive to hear Cater tell him he's cute, that he's hot. That breathy whisper doesn't help anything. or, more it does help, the way Riddle gasps out, the way he squirms to buck his hips up, craving more attention.

He likes that - keep telling him that. ]

I... Cater...--

[ Riddle lets out a soft whimpering moan of the other's name, unable to keep from squirming, from moving his hips and trying to get more and more and more. He's definitely not thinking anymore, leaning down to press his forehead against Cater's shoulder, his hands moving to let him rest them against the bed on either side of him. ]

Give me more, [ He demands, but it quickly turns into a little plea-- ] ... please.

[selfie_centered]

[it's fine— with Riddle's forehead pressed against Cater's shoulder, Cater can tilt his own head back and take a breath, collect himself. it's nearly overwhelming, this reality— is it real? It feels like it is— far beyond anything he could have fantasized. his imagination couldn't fill his hand with the sensation of Riddle bucking into his grip, couldn't distort what he knew of Riddle's voice before into the way his moans actually sound.

he tips his head down into Riddle's hair (isn't it unfair to smell so nice during something like this?!) and after laying a little kiss there, directs his eyes downward. his arm pulls down the fabric of Riddle's bottoms down enough that he can see the peek of Riddle's head in his own cupped hand and— oh, he's cooked, isn't he? this is something he's never going to come back from knowing.

oh well. already here, isn't he? his arousal has already long won.

gentle, coy, honey-sweet, he repeats again, slower and more drawn out;]

Yes, your majesty~

[it's so precious to hear Riddle command him. because it's not really a command anymore, is it? it's getting closer to begging, getting needier. if he could live in the feeling of being wanted by Riddle forever, maybe he would.

but as promised his touch becomes more insistent, his thumb and forefinger forming a ring around Riddle's head, coaxing just a little less gently than before. not to overwhelm Riddle.

not yet, anyway.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ It is overwhelming. For Riddle, this is completely beyond anything he would have ever thought about. Beyond the feelings he would expect to have, beyond any imagined fantasy between him ans Cater. He can't wrap his head around it -- which, actually, is a good thing. He could worry about all of the little questions later, grapple with the realization of how far they've gone into the deep end.

For now, he can't keep in his noises, but he can at least keep them quieter. Partially stifled by the position of his head, they're as needy as he was. His body was, frankly, too honest as he squirms and rolls his hips.

He can feel the cold air against his dick, against the head, but that hardly matters. Cater was going to see no matter what. There's no being 'embarrassed' about it anymore.

Except, Riddle's face burns, as Cater follows his order exactly. He gasps, fingers curling against the bedsheets under them, body shuddering with the change in pace. There's already pre beginning to form at the very tip, wetting Cater's fingers if he dares bring them up just a little bit higher.

Among the sensations completely distracting him, Riddle does manage to release the sheets, to instead bring his own hands between them, pressing them along Cater's hips. One of his hands grabs at his waistband, tugging on it a little, enough so Riddle can slowly drag the opposite down said hip. The tips of his fingers drag up against his groin as he brings his hand up higher.

It's his turn to tease, some. Unless Cater makes some indication that he wants him to stop. But. He wants to hear Cater fall into pathetic whimpering, moaning. To be just as needy as him - if he isn't already. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Riddle is treated to everything he wants, it must seem, because Cater is so responsive to him. he can't help it, though. it's really hard to weigh which is better between getting to touch Riddle and being touched by him. luckily, it's not as though he has to choose.

Riddle will find Cater stiff and aching, fully aroused, will hear Cater laugh in a way that almost sounds nervous— breathy, too. he might be bigger than Riddle, but only by the virtue of also, otherwise, being bigger than Riddle. Cater's more impressive in form than size, for sure, but that's probably not much of a problem here. he wiggles insistently, trying to get more from Riddle without even thinking of it. there's no sense of propriety anymore, no need to hold back. Riddle can already see Cater is breaking for him, can't he? what's it matter if he seems just a little more desperate? the cue to stop Riddle is waiting for doesn't come.

instead he bites his own lip, unrelenting in his touch. he does dare raise his fingers, quite deliberately wets them in that little bit of Riddle's slick, making it all the easier to keep rubbing at him. maybe he's terrible. maybe he is gross. but he likes the feeling, and especially loves knowing it's his fault.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ As with most things, Riddle is learning quickly. The way to arch his back just right so he gets all he wants from Cater, the way that the other boy feels in his hand, through his underwear. Riddle is tracing the shape of him for only a moment before he decides he's too impatient, dipping his first two fingers past the band of his underwear.

It's skin-to-skin almost immediate with Riddle, his small hand wrapping completely around his aching arousal.

This, actually, helps ground the small Housewarden. Brings him back to thinking, just a little, even despite the overwhelming feeling of Cater stroking him. ]

If... we went all the way, [ Riddle starts this line of questioning casually, lifting his head from Cater's shoulder finally, his cheeks flush and a bit of his confidence slipping right back into place. See, once he's started to learn, started to get the hang of something? He's golden. ] Would you fit?

[ The question is not phrased as in "because you seem big", but more... just based on their size difference, and a curiosity that burns within Riddle. He wants to learn more, to feel more, to hear more of Cater.

And then the other boy touches him in just the right way, and Riddle's whimpering all over again, gasping to try and keep his breathing steady, to get enough oxygen in. ]

[selfie_centered]

[it's good that he falters— maybe, then, he'll miss the way Cater's eyes widen, the huff that comes out of his throat. oh, what a question. it's really weird, actually, being incredulous, amused, and even more turned on.

yeah! good question! the people are dying to know!]

H-Hoookay, that's a question, yeah,

[his words sound a little stilted— he still has to try hard not to just sing for Riddle, really. it's hard to stay focused on the reality of the matter instead of to succumb to the hormone beast in his head, but this is Riddle he's dealing with, and realistically—]

That's kinda— mm, the kind of thing you work up to, I guess?

[Riddle is, after all, small. almost head-swimmingly so. and Cater does assume that there probably wasn't much sexual exploration going on in Casa Rosehearts, actually.]

Is that— what you want?

[or is it just what he thinks he has to do? Cater doesn't take his hand away from Riddle, but he does ease up just a little, just enough to give Riddle a chance to think.

he can make this worth it for Riddle in many ways, he's sure. it doesn't have to be 'all the way'.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Not that Riddle realizes it, but it's probably even harder for Cater to think when his small hand continues to move, to stroke him, learning both the shape of him and what things make Cater absolutely fall apart for him. His eyes are unfocused for the most part, though there's a hint of watchfulness, of curiosity.

And he's copying that move from before, Cater. Pressing his first finger and thumb into a little 'o', to contract and expand as he moves his hand against him, to tease the very tip of him.

He's not easing up, even as Cater does to give him a second to think. And think he does, looking thoughtful despite the topic. ]

I am a bit ... more used to stimulation like that.

[ Riddle murmurs, stalling his hand to bring his thumb up to the head of Cater's dick, circling it with firm little motions. Experimenting, with his touch. ]

I get urges too you know-- [ And he begins to get defensive, before catching himself, and letting out a small little huff, ] However. This feels... really good. You're good with your hand.

[ Don't. Don't let Riddle think too long on that, or he might realize there's a REASON Cater's so good at this. ]

[selfie_centered]

[really and truly, Cater is fighting for his life. Riddle tightens his fingers just right around his tip and Cater makes a face almost like a wince, struggling to keep his eyes on Riddle. yeah, thinking is hard, actually!

he's doing such a good job of not melting into a puddle of moans before Riddle drops a one-two punch on him. the lore drop is one thing, followed by praise— Cater finally pulls the hand that was resting on Riddle's waist back behind him to keep himself from leaning back too far, suddenly feeling like he needs the support.

but still he continues touching Riddle too, his hands just as greedy as the rest of him; he rubs his thumb over Riddle's tip over and over, an aimless attempt at revenge as Cater does his best to keep his composure.]

Wh— I mean— yeah, I know that.

I just, y'know...

[what. what does he know. fuck. he's lost the thought already. his eyes close, a brow creasing— right, something about fitting.]

I— we can find out?

[pitiful. like of course he wants to find out.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Ah- shit.

The little revenge that Cater starts makes Riddle whine, lose track of the conversation for long enough that he feels like he's going to need to slump against Cater again. He manages, long enough, to keep himself steady, taking in a sharp breath.

At least, in this moment, it's enough to keep him from teasing Cater too hard.

He nods, this quick little nod, one that he realizes moments later that Cater can't even see. ]

I want to.

[ Riddle murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss against Cater's chin, his jaw. It's a dangerous game, when Riddle gets more and more confident. There's nothing that's stopping him, really, from pushing this as far as possible.

He's breathless, struggling himself to think, but still has it in him enough to make another little demand-- ]

Help me get my pants off now. And-- let's get yours off. Is that okay?

[ He's squirming, needy - make sure to give him his answer quickly, Cater, or else he might just have no mercy on you. ]

[selfie_centered]

Ah— uh-huh—

[he's reluctant to pull away, but the reward should be greater, right? not that he can think much beyond obeying Riddle's orders. he leans back further, so that Riddle can at least raise his hips, opening his eyes to take Riddle in again.

this is really, actually happening to him right now. whack. not that he's complaining.

he helps shimmy Riddle's bottoms down once they're in a better position to do so, reaching up to do so—]

Gotcha. Let's— do that.

[score. he actually got the words out. nice.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Right. They have to pull back. He makes a small huff in annoyance at this realization, slowly pulling his hand back and out of Cater's trousers and underwear, in favor of putting his hands on his shoulders.

Leverage, that helps him move his leg away from Cater's lap, to get himself fully off of him, which.

Really, he didn't want to do, but. It was kind of necessary in this moment, huh?

Anyways. He lets Cater help him start the process, before he stands up on his knees, shoving them down unceremoniously. He'll let Cater help the rest of the way, before he's laid bare in front of him. Then?

Then he's plopping down to sit on his knees, to begin tugging on Cater's own bottoms, his eyes focused down on him. ]

Do you have any.... um. What's it called...?

[ Also that would be hella incriminating if Cater does. But Riddle won't come after him.... right now. ]

[selfie_centered]

[for a moment, Cater just watches Riddle, saturated in admiration. it still feels so dreamlike to watch Riddle do something like this, aside from the sensation.

he squints when Riddle first asks his question, but a second more and—]

—oh! Yeah, I, um—

[he pushes himself away, leaning all long and languid and naked to pull out the drawer in the bedside table, rustling around in it and pulling out— that's a candy he doesn't like, cool, tosses that aside— that's a piece of paper, not that, not—]

This one—

[there we go, clasped between two fingers are two different packets, one half-wrinkled but still intact condom and the other one of those packets of lube people tend to get thrown at them by health-conscious adults just trying to keep teen pregnancy rates down.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Okay, okay. Cool. This is a totally normal situation to be in together, right? With a condom and some lube and--

And Riddle finds himself staring at both, his face flushed heavily. He should probably be the one to put that on Cater, right? It's only proper, especially if Cater ends up being the one getting him ready?

... What are the rules to this encounter???

Riddle reaches out, plucking the condom from his hand. ]

Do we put it on now?

[ A simple question, meaning a simple thing: do they wait to put it on until they're ready or do they do it now, so they can already be ready??

Anyways, they're both at least naked now, so that is. Somewhat easier. Except now Riddle's just sitting there on his knees, staring between the condom and Cater, blinking at him for answers. ]

[selfie_centered]

[he is seriously having virgin-educating sex right now. there is perhaps some cosmic force throwing Cater a bone in that Riddle is not completely clueless (something that Cater simply is not equipped to handle), but it's still a little wild.

...but then again, it's normal, isn't it? he was on the other end once. no, what makes it wild isn't what it is, but who it's with. Cater sits up a little more comfortably and looks between the two of them, bare as they are and—

and actually, for all of Cater's worries and fears earlier, it doesn't feel as terrifying as he expected it to feel, to be seen like this by Riddle. maybe it'll kick in later, but right now it... feels easier, actually, that it doesn't have to be perfect. that Riddle's still just learning.

that this is a tutoring session between students who've been studying well together, not a test.

he eyes the condom Riddle has in his hand and—]

Uh... yeah, it's fine, those are the unlubricated ones, p sure. It's not gonna get, like, sticky...

[really it's a trade off between making Riddle sit there all glazed up waiting to get a condom on Cater or Cater waiting all bricked up while he gets Riddle to relax. either way, it's still a game of patience.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ There's something almost poetic about this. About the little knowledge Riddle had, and the ways they were navigating this together. Yes, it isn't Cater's first time, but it is their first time, meaning they still both had to figure out how to navigate that together, to talk and understand, listening to not only each other's words, but their body language.

Riddle was comforted, too, by the fact that it really didn't feel weird or bad. In the current moment, he really had relaxed to the point where this was just normal, something he could write off as being something he's meant to explore as a teenager, like some other rules he tends to 'break' while on campus.

With Cater's answer, he nods. Determined to do this part right! He's had sex-ed, briefly! He knows what a condom is!

So he tears the packaging. Shuffles closer to Cater, until their knees touch.

Then, he carefully pinches the tip of the condom, pressing it down onto Cater and using his other hand to stroke him, to properly finish putting it on. Maybe surprisingly, he got it on pretty much perfect. For good measure, he'll drag his finger up along Cater's length once he's done, inspecting him closer now that he's no longer covered up. ]

There. Then the next step... would be to make sure I'm ready, yes?

... Would... you like to do it, or shall I?

[ Probs going to have to get in a better position for it too, instead of the little proper way Riddle's sitting there on his knees. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Cater'd probably kill to know Riddle feels so comfortable, too. if pressed, he'd probably have to fluff up how comfortable he was his first time. he'd do cartwheels to know Riddle isn't feeling weird about it. anything but that.

he watches Riddle touch him almost reverently, and for a moment those stupid, hormonal feelings are dulled by a flood of something else. it's stupid, probably, to feel so warm about someone just putting a condom on him. it's ridiculous. it's just supposed to be sexy. but Riddle drags his finger over him and his dumb, needy dick practically jumps, and Cater has to swallow down a wave of dizzying affection.

he ducks his head a little, leaned back, pondering Riddle's question, and looks at Riddle rather imploringly.]

Iiiis it cool with you, if I do?

[he wants to. not that he would mind the show, of course. but if this is his only chance, and he has the choice...]

[crimsontyrant]

[ There's no small amount of affection in the way Riddle puts that condom onto Cater. Maybe that's what pushes forth that dizzying affection in Cater? Either way; he's safe from Riddle noticing. After all, Cater's good at hiding it, at hiding what he truly feels over what matters.

The answer is unsurprising, though, to say the least. Riddle half expected Cater to jump at the opportunity. He did tell Cater to 'show him a good time'...

It's only right if Cater dotes on him.

The Housewarden tilts his head, presses one shoulder more forward, and-
Probably doesn't even know he's giving Cater bedroom eyes at this very moment, before he nods. ]

It is. I was hoping that would be your answer.

Where do you want me?

[ Because, really, they have options!! Riddle could get back on Cater's lap, or lay on his back, where Cater could get a full view of what he's doing. Just depends on what Cater wants to see. ]

[selfie_centered]

[oh score. nice. nice nice nice he picked the right answer. Cater's first response is a slow nod, eyes locked on Riddle's, though he realizes that is not an answer to Riddle's question and seems to process after that, starting to tear open that little packet he'd retrieved to slick up his fingers.

An upward nod, since gesturing otherwise would get messy;]

C'mere,

[—and he beckons, the memory of Riddle's arms wrapped around him driving him. that's what he wants. if this might be his only chance, then he wants Riddle to wrap him up in it all, to give him that adoring feeling from earlier. he takes Riddle's arm with his free hand, to guide him with a gentle pull.]

I want you, here.

[crimsontyrant]

[ Somehow, the mood feels like it's shifted again. Sure, it's still sexual, still intense, but now? Now... there's this intimacy in the air that Riddle's feeling. He moves with that beckoning, allowing his arm to be taken.

He'll follow Cater's lead for the moment, getting back in position in his lap, straddling him just right.

His free arm moves, wrapping loosely over Cater's shoulder. He moves to rest his cheek against his own arm, eyes still focused up on him. ]

Is this right? Or should I move...?

[ He was just following Cater's lead, following what he felt would work best for the two of them, really! ]

[selfie_centered]

No, it's— you're perfect, dude,

[murmurs Cater in response, caught on staring at Riddle's face for another moment longer before he swallows and refocuses. refocusing just reminds him that he ought to take every chance he get, so he leans in to press a quick kiss to Riddle's lips while his still-dry hand cups one of Riddle's thighs to support him.]

I've gotcha.

[and then that other hand is between Riddle's legs, gentle, curious, but no longer as hesitant as Cater had been before. this is happening now, for sure. his grip on Riddle's thigh tightens as a slick finger presses against Riddle's hole.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ His other arm moves to mirror his first, wrapping around Cater. It's a gentle embrace, less filled with lust. Rather, he's showing this gentle affection, enjoying thoroughly the moment they've created between them.

That kiss was sweet, but too quick. Riddle lifts his head just slightly, to catch Cater's lips in another one. Something just as sweet, just as gentle. Then, he trails his kisses down. One small one against his cheek, his jaw. They're softer than the ones Cater might've offered him. Experimental.

As Cater's hand explores between his legs, Riddle's breath catches again, his hand resting against his back, fingers daring to curl and let his nails dig in. ]

Be careful.

[ Surely, it doesn't need to be said. There's not a world in which Riddle would think Cater would ever hurt him, unless it was absolutely necessary.

When he does start to push that finger in, he might find that, yes, he's tight because duh, look at him, but. His muscles also seem somewhat prepared to take him in, to let Cater explore his inner walls. ]

[selfie_centered]

[it really is some special moment, isn't it? not that it lost on Cater before that Riddle is sharing something so important with him, but it really is like the whole thing's shifted. there's no going back from here. mostly, because neither of them wants to.

that's why it's easy for Cater to loll his head to the side, bat his lashes a little. he hums;]

Yes, Riddle.

[still a bit teasing, but neither the obedient use of 'housewarden' or the playful use of 'your majesty' comes. just Riddle's name.

even though he isn't the one being touched, touching Riddle in turn is still so satisfying. Cater is slow and careful, diligent and patient. slacker though he may be, Cater can be quite adept with the things he does care about, and oh does he care about the way Riddle relaxes around him.

Riddle's curious will you fit? rings in his head again and he has to clear his throat, has to breathe a little more even. they sure were going to find out.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ To fall apart against someone he cares for - it felt so perfect. Riddle can't think of a time he's felt so out of control of his own body's reactions yet so okay with that.

Another small kiss is given, pressed against Cater's neck. His breath comes out in small little pants against him, as Riddle acclimates to the feeling of Cater's finger inside of him. It feels so much different than when he touches himself, so much more diligent and patient, which.

Is kind of surprising, coming from Cater? He won't mention it, of course, but he is a little surprised to find him so careful with him.

And, it does make him feel cared for, adored.

Whining against Cater's neck, he moves his hips just slightly, needy. Asking for more, without even realizing he is. This time, he doesn't even beg for it, doesn't actually say what he needs- because he thinks, maybe, just maybe, Cater will get it.

Instead, he tries to focus again on those little pieces of affection he can afford Cater, and breathing. Breathing is pretty important. ]

[selfie_centered]

[it's tough to stay patient, for sure. he wants more from Riddle, too, but it's worth the wait. it's worth it, for Riddle, who deserves to be treasured and safe doing something intimate. who deserves to feel good.

but patience doesn't mean he's holding back, either. another finger, more lubricant, and Cater works his (tiny, tiny) queen, reveling in the way Riddle opens up for him, in the way there's still pressure against his touch.]

Let me know if it hurts,

[he manages, his voice breathy and quiet. it's enough to hear, and that's all they need. deeper, more— Cater obliges Riddle, his own neediness growing alongside.]