𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 & 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
18+, dominant male lead, brat reader, bondage, restriction, bruising, self-insert |(LONG)
As you slowly wake, your head is pounding, and there's a constant pressure behind your eyes. When you try to open them, the ceiling spins, and you feel disoriented. You attempt to lift your hand to your face, but it's restrained by something tight and firm. You realize that your wrists are bound, and your ankles are too. Memories of the previous night start flooding back, piece by piece. You recall the argument, his voice tame and controlled, which was somehow more unsettling than if he had been shouting. You remember the sound of the door closing behind him, the quiet click that seemed to echo through the room. Then, you'd open a bottle of dry red wine to fill the silence, and maybe another one after that. The rest of the night is a blur. You'd been sitting on the couch, watching TV, waiting for him to come back through the front door, but the wine had gotten the best of you, and you'd passed out before he even returned. The thought of this makes you feel weak and pathetic, especially in the harsh light of morning filtering through the blinds in your bedroom. You notice Alarik lying next to you, stretched out on his back with his eyes closed, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing black sweatpants slung low on his hips, the thin fabric leaving little to the imagination. You glance down and scoff. The dress you wore the night before is nowhere to be seen, and in its place, you're wearing your black silk nightgown. His favorite. This idiot thinks he’s so slick. "Did you—?" "You were a mess." He opens his eyes and looks at you. His jaw is tight. "You really went overboard with the wine, didn't you?" He pulls himself up, his eyes locked on yours, and gently takes your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. His thumb comes to rest just below your cheekbone, a soft touch that makes you forget, briefly, how to breathe. "You crashed on the couch, and I couldn't reach you no matter how many times I called or texted. I was getting worried, thinking you did something rash." "We had a fight, you walked out, and I ended up drinking alone." You jerk your face away from his touch, irritation flashing across your face. "What's it to you?" Should’ve never left me here alone, you think to yourself. He gets up from the bed, a small smile playing on his lips as if reading your thoughts. "You're right," he says. "I've been giving you too much...freedom, it seems." He stands there, hands in his pockets, his gaze pinning you to the bed. The silence in the room is so complete you can hear the blood roaring in your ears. This is a familiar pattern, a game you've both played from opposite sides. Your muscles are coiled tight, ready to fight or flee, even though the restraints make both impossible. You know what he wants, and the waiting is its own kind of torture. "Say it," you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. "I'm sorry?" He tilts his head forward, his smirk evident. "I couldn't hear you." "Alarik." Your voice is flat, demanding. "Ask." His smile spreads slowly. "Permission?" A tiny tug at the corner of your mouth, and you nod. "Alright," he says, his hands slipping out of the pockets of his sweatpants. "Keep your eyes on me." He steps toward you slowly, each footstep spiking your nerves. The playful glint in his eyes transforms into something darker, sinister. "You’ve been testing me." His voice is a growl you feel in your chest. "To see how far you can push me." As he leans in, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Alarik's face is so close to yours; you can smell the sandalwood scent of his soap. Your heart pounds against your ribs as you meet his narrowed silver eyes. They’re so intimidating, you can’t look away as his gaze pierces through you.
"And what if I have?" You shoot back, trying to sound braver than you feel, but your voice trembles a little. The cuffs feel as if they're getting tighter, and Alarik's fingers give you chills as he gently runs them along your jawline. You can almost predict what's going to happen next. His thumb caresses your lower lip, a touch that's both soft and commanding. With a little pressure, he parts your lips, his eyes burning with intensity. Your tongue slips out, tasting the saltiness of his skin. This sight seems to undo something in him, a sharp exhale escaping through his nose, his jaw tightening like he's working to hold himself still. He whispers, "You're beautiful when you defy me." His hand moves down to the edge of your nightgown. "But," he says, his eyes locked on yours, "you're even more stunning when you give in." His fingers gently brush against the silk, tracing the curve of your leg. The fabric is so delicate that you can feel the warmth of his hand radiating through it. As his palm glides over your skin, it leaves a trail of heat that makes your body tingle with expectation. You subtly shift your position, the cuffs restraining your movement, and a soft murmur escapes your lips. The sensation is almost too much to bear. His touch is like a whispered promise, leaving you eager for more. Alarik's soft whisper calms you, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Be patient, we've got all the time in the world." His weight settles beside you on the bed as his hand continues its exploration, higher now, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches. "I was so angry with you while I was away," he says. "But now I only want to make you come." As Alarik's fingers reach the top of your thighs, they press against you, the wet cotton a thin barrier between his touch and your skin. Your body arches, a gasp slipping past your lips, the sound barely audible. The pressure he applies is just right, making your vision blur at the edges. Your senses are heightened, every nerve ending alive and thrumming with anticipation. The word slips out before you can stop it, a desperate, last effort. “Wait,” you blurt. Alarik sneers, his lips curling up into a mean smile. "Wait?" he says, his voice now teasing you. "You've kept me waiting all night," he points out, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Now it's my turn to make you wait." His fingers start to circle, and a tremor runs through you. You bite your lip to maintain your composure as heat floods your gut. The restraints suddenly feel like both punishment and mercy as Alarik's touch becomes more insistent. "I'm not the one who got up and left," you say, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out shaky. "If you had just stayed—" Alarik cuts in, his hand finally making its way under your panties, his fingers discovering you're already wet and ready. A moan escapes your lips as he touches you. "If I had stayed," he says, "you wouldn't be learning this lesson." His words are filled with a mix of desire and something else, something that sounds almost like regret. His fingers dance across your skin with a gentle, tantalizing touch, tracing circles that come so close, yet never quite reach the spot where you crave them most. You feel your body instinctively strain against the leather cuffs, your back arching in a desperate bid for more as the need for his touch overcomes you. "Please," you whisper, hating how desperate you sound but unable to stop yourself. Alarik moves in, his mouth almost touching your ear, and whispers, "Say it out loud." You look away, pride fighting with desperation. "You know what I'm asking for." His chuckle is dark and delicious. "I want to hear you say it."
"Alarik—" "Tell me," he says firmly, his hands stopping all movement. "Or you'll be stuck like this until tomorrow morning." You lock eyes with him, a spark of defiance dancing in your gaze. The threat is likely empty. He enjoys this game too much to end it, but the challenge still hangs in the air between you. You hold his gaze, the only form of resistance you have left, and the thrill of it makes your pulse hammer. "Make me come," you finally say, the words both surrendering to and challenging him in return. His smile shifts. "I suppose I can be generous." Alarik's fingers are no longer just wandering; they move with purpose. He slips one inside, and a sharp gasp escapes you at the feeling of being stretched and filled. Your hips lift, seeking more, but the cuffs remind you of your place. You're trapped, pinned by the pleasure he's building with maddening slowness. “So eager,” he whispers, as he gently adds another finger. His thumb returns to your sensitive spot, applying just the right amount of pressure, while his fingers curve inward, exploring your depths. "Even when you're in trouble," he murmurs, the words a private promise against your skin. You hiss, unable to form words as your climax builds. His pace remains deliberately slow, drawing out every spark until you're trembling beneath him. “Look at me,” he demands, and the command in his voice pulls your gaze up. The intensity in his stare makes your heart skip. "I want to see you lose control." His free hand cups your breast through the silk, thumb circling your nipple until it peaks. The dual sensation makes your back arch once more. "Alarik," you whisper, nearly resembling gibberish, his name a desperate plea. "Don't stop." He lets out a groan, his pace quickening as he moves. His fingers continue to tease that spot, and it's like a spark ignites inside you, making your vision blur and the air nearly escape your lungs. His thumb quickens faster, and it's almost too much to handle. You're close, so close that your body tenses as pleasure coils tight within you. Then Alarik suddenly stops, removing his hand completely. "What the fu—!" you say abruptly, your head jerking up as confusion spreads across your face. "Not yet," he chuckles, breathy and dripping with need. As he gets up, your eyes can't help but stare at him, and you feel a flutter in your chest. The outline of him through the thin fabric makes your stomach tighten, and for a second, you forget how to swallow. "Tease," you accuse, tugging at your cuffs. "Always," he agrees. His fingers hook into the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slowly begins to pull them down, the movement almost torturous. The sight of him, fully erect and straining, nearly makes you regret drinking the night before. "Now who’s eager?" you say with a soft laugh, holding up the cuffs to remind him. Your body is still throbbing with desire, craving the relief that only he can give. He gets back on the bed and sits between your legs. "I'm not gonna fuck you," he says. "At least, not until you ask me nicely." He looks at you with a serious face. "I want to hear you beg again." You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face even though you're seething inside. "Yeah, no," you say calmly, but the crack in your voice gives you away. His hand moves up the inside of your leg, his fingers brushing the damp heat between your thighs. "No?" "Alarik," you say, trying to sound firm, but your voice breaks at the end, giving away your emotions, and his eyes sparkle with amusement. "Say please," he whispers, his lips barely grazing your neck. His fingers find home once more in your most sensitive spot, circling without pressing in, patient in a way that makes your breath stall. You press the back of your head into the pillow, trying to hold still, but your hips have already decided otherwise, tilting up before you can stop them. "Hm?" he commands, nipping at your earlobe.
You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes. “JUST—” His control finally gives way. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his erection teasing you until a desperate sound escapes your lips. “Fuck me-” The words are barely out before he moves, pushing forward in one quick, hard thrust that fills you completely. A cry bursts from you as a sharp, stretching pain radiates from your core. He lets out a lasting groan, his hands tightening around your hips as he starts to move in a fast, needy rhythm. The cuffs hold you firmly in place, leaving you no choice but to surrender to his pace, taking everything he gives you. He asks, his voice tight with effort, "Is this what you wanted?" The air is charged as he struggles to keep his pace. "To be totally under my control?" The space around you is filled with the sound of your bodies coming together, the rhythm of your movements echoing off the walls. As you surrender to him, a guttural moan slips out, as he finds the exact spot deeper within you that sets your body ablaze. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper, the movement restricted only by the constraints of your position, yet still, you try to draw him closer, lost in the intensity of the moment. As he picks up speed, every movement creates a ripple that washes over you. His hands move, tracing the contours of your body and homing in on the spots that drive you wild. Your breathing grows shallower, coming in ragged gasps as the tension builds once more. The air is electric with anticipation, and you can't help but feel like you're teetering on the edge of release. With each passing moment, the excitement grows until it's almost too much to bear. Looking up at him, his eyes are fixed on yours, holding something feral and unguarded. You can see the intensity in his face, a kind of wildness that makes your chest cave. At the same time, your body reacts instinctively, coiling with a tension begging for release. "You're never leaving me." The predatory edge in his voice plays in your ear like a spell. You know he means it. That possessive glint in his eyes is unmistakable. The cuffs suddenly feel like more than just part of your game. "Alarik," you whisper softly, your voice trembling with a mix of warning and desperation, the words barely escaping your lips. He moves slowly, filling you completely, his gaze locked on yours. "You belong to me," he says, certain, as if it's a truth that can't be changed. "And I belong to you," he adds, his eyes burning with a promise of possession and devotion. It makes your chest tighten. This was always how it ended, with you caught in a trap you hadn't seen coming. You're still not sure when this one closed around you. Your body responds to him anyway, clenching around him as he maintains his pace. Alarik’s lips crash into yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, taking control. For a moment, everything else fades away. As he tears away from the kiss, his arms move, gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer. His movements become more intense and passionate. The bed jumps beneath you, a rhythmic beat that matches the pounding of your heart. The pain in your wrists and ankles is bittersweet, a reminder of your surrender. Your spine feels as if it might snap, straining towards the peak of pleasure, every nerve ending screaming for the finale. The tension builds, a slow-burning fire that threatens to consume you, until it finally reaches a crescendo, leaving you breathless and wanting more. "Let me touch you," you demand, tugging against the leather bonds. You want to feel his skin, to hold him as close as he's holding you. "No," he says in a husky tone, his voice laced with a deep longing. "Not until I'm done reminding you who you belong to."
You pull uselessly against the cuffs, feeling a surge of frustration and longing. "I'm already aware of who owns me," you snap, locking eyes with him in a fierce stare. For a brief instant, his rhythm slips, and a look of surprise crosses his face, only to be quickly replaced by a hint of mischief. He moves in closer, his hips thrusting forward with a newfound sense of determination, striking just the right spot that sends shivers down your spine and makes your toes curl up in delight. "Then WHY," Alarik says, his body crashing into yours, "do you keep TESTING me?" His voice is leaking with the effort of control as he crashes into you once more. "Damn," he mutters, the words tumbling out in a frustrated rush. As another intense wave of pleasure sweeps over you, your body becomes completely rigid, quivering in reaction. "Because," you manage between gasps, "you make it so damn fun." Your head tilts back slightly as a laugh escapes your lips. A dangerous smile spreads across his face. One hand moves between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with precision. The dual sensation of his cock filling you, his fingers circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, is overwhelming. "Come for me," he commands, his voice dropping to a rumble that always unravels you. "Come on my dick," he says, and you feel your heart beating faster. As you let go, your defenses collapse, and your body quivers with sensation. "Baby-!" Your voice cracks with emotion as he controls your every response. "I'm gonna-..Fuck-!" The spark surges through you, causing your inner muscles to contract, gripping him tightly. This elicits a groan from his lips, a sound that's both primal and intimate. He exhales sharply, his rhythm becoming uneven as he rushes towards his own climax. "You're so fucking pretty when you come," he whispers, filled with admiration. “Fuck, you're squeezing me-” He follows you over the edge, burying himself deep as he comes within you. For an instant, you're frozen in time, your chests heaving in unison. The cuffs dig into your skin, a grounding reminder as the world slowly comes back into focus around the two of you. Alarik's body relaxes onto yours, his forehead gently touching yours. In this quiet moment, his eyes are closed, his face completely unguarded, belonging only to you. "You're going to be the death of me," he whispers, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your temple. "Maybe," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, still rough from all the talking. "But what a way to go." A soft laugh vibrates in his chest, and he adjusts his position, making sure not to put too much pressure on you. He then reaches for your wrists and ankles, and with a confident touch, he frees them. His fingers rub your wrists with a surprising tenderness that catches you off guard. As you sit up, the soft silk of your nightgown clings to your skin, still damp from the night. His eyes are fixed on you, and for a moment, his expression is unreadable. But then, something changes, and his gaze becomes more intense, as if he's lost in thought. "You don't have to keep looking at me like that," you say, gently rubbing the sore spots on your wrists. "Like what?" Alarik says, his voice now unusually quiet. "Like you're afraid of something." You reach for him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. He goes still, the possessive heat in his eyes dimming. Your words seem to land on him, his shoulders slumping as new lines appear around his eyes, suddenly making him look burdened by a secret. He speaks in a hushed tone, the words slipping out so softly you barely catch them, "I am."
Your brow furrows, and your hand stops moving against his cheek. "What do you mean?" Alarik gently grabs your hand and presses his lips to your palm. His lips feel warm and soft on your skin for a moment. When he looks up at you, the vulnerable look in his eyes is gone, and it's been replaced by emotionless eyes and a half-smile. "Nothing," he says. "Just…thinking." Something in his tone makes your stomach clench with unease. You pull your hand away, suddenly needing space between you. You try to break the tension. "You're being weird." You get off the bed. Your legs feel a bit wobbly, but you manage to stand up anyway. Alarik's eyes, a pale and striking silver, fix on you with an unblinking steadiness that makes you want to look away, his gaze trying to take in every detail of you. "Come back to bed," he says softly, patting the empty space beside him, inviting you to snuggle up close. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite just being fucked to oblivion. "I need some water," you say, wrapping your arms around yourself as you pad toward the bathroom. As you walk to the bathroom door, you hear Alarik sigh behind you. Flipping the switch, the bathroom light feels harsh on your eyes. You lean against the sink, gazing at your reflection in the mirror with exhaustion in your eyes. Your hair looks wild and untamed, your lips are swollen, and your cheeks are flushed. What was he thinking? That flash of something…haunting him? As you splash cold water on your face, you're trying to shake off the fog in your head. When you look up, you notice something moving in the mirror. You see Alarik standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory stare. A shiver runs down your spine as you meet his gaze. "Can you explain what you meant?" you say, turning away. He steps into the bathroom, and his presence seems to absorb all the air in the room. His fingers trail along your bare shoulder as he moves behind you, his reflection meeting yours in the mirror.
"Ask me something easier.”
