#subby faust

꩜ Faust having a soft dom partner does not sound like that far of a stretch to me at all. It takes a lot of his focus not to turn into a whimpering, desperate puddle a lot of the time when the two of you are fucking, so I could see him falling into a subby role quite easily. ꩜ You'd take care of him after shows or long days in the studio. Run him a hot bath and wash his hair, which is easily one of his favourite things you do for him. He loves feeling your fingertips working shampoo into his scalp. It feels so intimate and loving that it can be overwhelming at times. ꩜ You'd massage those broad shoulders of his, sore from hours of banging on his drums, and press your lips to his warm skin every so often. You'd work your way down his arms, kneading the skin until you reached his big, calloused hands. ꩜ You'd worship them, peppering soft kisses over his knuckles while your thumbs pressed into his palms, working out any cramps or tension left from being wrapped around his sticks all night. ꩜ You'd get him dressed after his bath just to help him get them back off, gently guiding his hands away when he gets impatient and tries to do it himself, tutting at him when he persists. ꩜ Realistically, you probably wouldn't be able to restrain him, not with your hands, but I'd like to think that he needs this so bad. For you to take care of him, that he'll do pretty much anything you ask, if if he's panting desperately, waiting for you to touch him. ꩜ By the time you get him undressed, Faust would be begging, his voice whiny as his hips bucked up off the mattress. "Please, Angel" He'd all but whimper "Need you-" You'd shush him and wrap your hand around his cock. "I've got you. Relax, my love. Let me take care of you." ꩜ God, the sounds this man would make while you caressed him would drive you wild. Little groans and gasps. Maybe he's muttering under his breath, cursing in his mother tongue, voice thick with need. ꩜ You'd undress yourself a little faster, knowing full well that he never lasts long when you go down on him and he'd appreciate you riding him more. He'd be shaking with anticipation as you ran his ruddy tip through your folds, lining it up with the dripping entrance of your cunt. ꩜ The moment you slide down onto him, as much as you can take of him at least, his breath would hitch and a low, broken moan would fall from his lips. Wounded, almost. "Is that good, baby?" You'd coo, grinding yourself down on him, letting out a few sweet sounds of your own as his tip nudged your cervix. "Being so good for me. So patient." "Fuck, Angel-" He'd groan, fingers digging into your hips in a desperate attempt to stop himself from flipping you over and slamming into you "Feels so fucking good- oh-" ꩜ If he's good and lets you set the pace without bucking up into you or pulling you down further, you'd eventually let him loose. You'd let him roll on top of you and pound into you until you're both coming undone. ꩜ He'd bury his face in the crook of your neck when he cums, muttering and whimpering into your skin. "Thank you Angel, Thank you-fuck." "Love you so fucking much" ꩜ Afterwards, you'd wait until you've both completely come down from your highs, gently trailing your fingers along his spine while he shudders in your arms, muttering how he'd done so good and that he'd fucked you so well. ꩜ You'd go get a washcloth and gently clean him up, pressing your lips to his skin as you went, telling him you loved him. ꩜ You'd fall asleep tangled in the sheets together, you, stroking his hair, and him with his cheek pressed against your tits, clutching your waist to his chest like a tether.

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