A/Ns: Oh dear lord... I can't believe I wrote this. I expected this to be like, I don't know, maybe 1k words max? Instead, it ended up being nearly 4k. And honestly, this could so easily be cut... had I actually bothered to edit it/proof read more than once (and even then, I only skimmed it...). This was my first time writing this pairing, and I have to admit, I do ship it a little bit having finished it now (I preferred it as a brotp more than anything). I can see it being a ridiculously kinky pairing lol.

Anyway, this was a request from the wonderful yorusorra. There was no prompt given when they requested it, just a pairing, and since I'd started the 100 kinks challenge at the time, I thought I'd tackle one of the prompts on the list for the story. I'm so sorry if you don't like it (although I really do hope you do!). Please let me know if you want me to change anything.

There'll be a few more notes at the end for this one...

Sensory Deprivation
Freed/Lucy

"Are you sure about this?"

Lucy didn't need to think about it for even a second before she nodded firmly and whispered, "I'm sure." Although it was new territory for the both of them, at least to that extent, she trusted Freed with her entire being. Lucy wouldn't have agreed to any of it in the first place unless she'd been comfortable with it, and that was exactly what she was right then: she was comfortable. "I trust you, Freed."

And Lucy didn't need to see her husband to know that he was watching her carefully then; watching her face (or what was visible of it with the black blindfold shielding her eyes) for any sign of hesitation or apprehension, because the last thing Freed wanted to do was involve Lucy with something she really wasn't comfortable with. And sure, they'd done the blindfolds thing dozens of time before – although Lucy did seem to enjoy it more when he was the one blindfolded – and the gags, and the handcuffs and the restraints… But not once had either of them had more than one of their senses deprived at a single time. And even then, it had only ever been sight, nothing else.

That time, though… That time, all Lucy would have was her sense of touch: her feelings, and her sense of smell – although when they'd talked about it beforehand, she had brought up the fact that she'd never really remembered using that particular sense before, so Freed had decided then and there to rectify that. And so by the time Lucy had finished her shower that evening, Freed had already been waiting for her in their room with six of her favourite winterberry candles already lit and filling the room their warm and sweet aroma.

But… When Freed watched his wife for that hesitation, he didn't see it. He only saw the soft smile on her lips. "Are you—"

"Freed," Lucy cut in. "I'm sure," she said again, her smile turning playful when she knew the Rune mage was still hovering over her and still watching her face as carefully as ever. She would've reached up to cup his face and kiss him just to shut him up, but Lucy was convinced she would've ended up poking his eye out in the process – she'd learnt her lesson about trying to touch things when she couldn't see anything, considering the first and only time she'd tried to reach out for Freed while wearing a blindfold had ended with her almost sticking her finger up his damn nose. "Now hurry up and give me those earplugs."

"I… Right, okay." Sitting up slightly, Freed reached for the small plastic container on the nightstand with the foam earplugs in them, and lifted the lid. "Do you want to put the in yourself?"

Lucy nodded. "Yes, please." She turned her left hand out on the mattress and waited until Freed had placed the two foam pieces into her palm before she closed her fingers around them. Lucy could feel Freed shifting over her as she spun the little pieces of foam between her fingers, tapering the tips to make them easier to press into her ears. Hesitating once she held them just by her ears, Lucy couldn't help but teasingly add quickly, "No weird stuff tonight, alright?"

"Weird stuff?" Freed echoed. Lucy could sense the devilish smirk that graced his lips then. "Are you sure?"

"Freed…"

A hearty chuckle left his lips as he ducked down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "No weird stuff. I promise," he whispered. Although he did have to admit he wasn't quite sure what his wife classified as 'weird' those days… Perhaps she means anal. But Freed already knew how little Lucy liked that.

So finally, Lucy pressed the earplugs into her ears, and waited the few seconds it took for them to expand within her ear canals and block out all nearby sound before smiling and nodding once more. "I can barely even hear myself talk right now," she laughed. All she could hear now was the sound of blood rushing inside her head in time with her pulse, nothing else. She was as ready as she was ever going to be, and with a gentle sigh, she settled herself into the middle of their large bed to get herself as comfortable as possible; head nestled in the soft feather pillows, arms laid out to her side and feet spreading apart.

Within moments, Lucy became aware of how vulnerable she was like that. She wouldn't have the slightest clue if Freed decided to let someone into their room, their private life. Right then, she was none-the-wiser to anything beyond that mattress she lay on in just her baby pink, lace-trimmed boyshorts.

But, as she'd say time and time again, she trusted Freed. She trusted him with everything she had, so Lucy didn't feel vulnerable right then. A little exposed, perhaps – but that was normal for her, no matter how long they'd been together and regardless of how many times Freed had seen her without a single fibre of fabric covering her. He'd seen all of her, just as she had him. And as far as Lucy was concerned, she didn't have a reason to ever distrust Freed. He was her husband: he was hers as she was his, and Lucy knew full well how the leader of the Raijinshuu would never do anything with her that he wasn't completely certain that she would be comfortable, and more importantly aware of it. There were no secrets or surprises, not in their sex life, at least.

Lucy waited patiently from the moment she first felt the bed dip with Freed slowly slipping himself away from where he'd originally been straddling her hips, until the second time the mattress shifted with the Rune mage situating himself at the far end, close to her feet. And Lucy's legs (and feet) weren't sensitive by any means, but as soon as she felt her husband's fingers slowly and just barely close around her right ankle, along with his warm breath, she couldn't help but flinch.

She'd expected the hypersensitivity to touch, but she hadn't quite expected her body to react the way it did just from her husband slowly and ever-so lightly sliding his fingers up her leg, trailing behind his lips as he left feather-light kisses all the way up to her thigh. She felt her heartrate quicken, the blood rushing in her ears becoming louder, and goosebumps raising on her arms.

Freed stopped on his journey once he reached the middle of her thigh, only chuckling to himself when he swore he heard his wife sigh in frustration and try to draw her legs back together when he retreated to the foot of the bed once again. He had no intentions of taking things quickly that night, at least not at that precise moment. He wanted to make her squirm; to get her on the precipice of coming apart at the seams without really touching her – or at least not the way she would probably want to be touched.

On her left leg then, Freed repeated his journey, beginning at her ankle and travelling all the way up to her thigh. Lucy shifted her legs apart ever so slightly then, to which Freed only guessed it was her way of silently letting her know where she'd love for him to attend to next – though the small damp patch on the crotch of her panties made that clear enough. But as tempting as it was for the Rune mage to oblige, he wasn't going to. He wasn't even going to rid her of that last piece of material until the very end – until she was so wet that the fabric was practically transparent. And at that rate, Freed didn't think it would be long before that happened anyway.

So just teasing her, Freed continued to drag his mouth up to the lace border of her underwear, right at the top of her thigh, all while keeping his hands slowly and repetitively roaming up and down the sides of her silky flesh. And just when Lucy thought he'd use that sinful mouth of his for something else, he sat up again, settling himself directly over her spread thighs and moving his hands up to her waist instead, completely ignoring the one part of her body that she wanted her husband to touch the most.

"Damn it, Freed… Don't tease me like that…" Lucy murmured. Honestly, she knew not to be surprised, either. He always left her on the verge of begging him to do something to her – fuck her, finger her, anything really. Somehow Freed telling her before putting the blindfold on that he was going to take her time with her had slipped her mind.

The Rune mage chuckled to himself once more. Had Lucy been able to hear him, he would've told her to remain patient.

As gently and slowly as before, Freed began to trail his hands up his wife's side, his thumbs spreading out towards the centre of her abdomen and his eyes focused on the way the muscles beneath the skin tensed and relaxed repeatedly with each of her sharp breaths. He knew how sensitive that part of her body was – or more accurately how ticklish she was, so Freed merely jumped over that entire section (he didn't exactly want her squirming from laughter). And when he reached her breasts, he did the same thing, just barely letting his palms and his fingertips brush along the side, keeping his thumbs tucked in that time, before sliding up and over her shoulders.

He pressed harder there, palms digging into her collarbones just enough for her to actually feel it, and then they were travelling up again; caressing the column of her neck, her jaw, behind her ears and into her hair sprawled out on the pillow. Lucy almost choked on her own breath when she felt her husband's lips just barely brush against hers for a moment, his hands still massaging her scalp as he captured her bottom lip between his teeth. A sharp pain to offset the feather-light touches she'd been receiving until that moment, and she let out a shaky sigh when Freed began his descent.

He was just as slow with his descent as he was with his ascent: fingers just barely brushing against her skin, back down the sides of her neck, and her shoulders. And each time his fingers brushed against a new patch of skin, Lucy had to squash the urge to wriggle, even just a tiny bit. She'd become so extremely aware of the gentlest of touches; if it weren't for Freed now straddling her hips and his erection pressing against stomach, Lucy was sure she would've been aware of his presence over her from just the heat of his body alone.

And if she just about trembling from Freed's hands roaming everywhere but her typical erogenous zones, then what was going to happen when he was finally inside her? God, I'm probably going to cum instantly… Lucy really wouldn't be surprised at that point if it did happen. And with Freed, it wasn't like it took much for her to climax anyway…

She always liked joking that he was really more of a god than a demon. At least in bed…

Continuing to map out every single inch of her, Freed walked his fingers down the inside of his wife's arms, relishing in the slight shiver that ran through her as his fingertips tickled the sensitive flesh of her forearm. Oh, she'd been so good so far, too. No moving at all; keeping her hands out by her sides and her legs perfectly spread behind him. And Freed knew how much Lucy would prefer to be able to move then, just because she always liked being able to move. But she was being perfect right then, and Freed decided it was time to reward her for her patience.

So finally, his delicate hands left her wrists, and he laid them flat on her toned stomach after he shifted himself down to sit over her thighs again, making a point of pressing his hips against her sex and eliciting a quiet moan from her lips. As Freed moved his hands in small circles over her abdomen, fingertips rising and meeting the bottom curve of her breasts each time, he realised that one thing was missing. And that was the oil. It wasn't even something he'd thought about until that moment either, having not planned out everything for Lucy's sensory experience that night. But he knew how much more she'd enjoy it – because oh, Lucy loved her oils…

The only problem for Freed right then was that he had to leave his wife momentarily to get it, and it wasn't exactly like he could tell her what he was doing… So he didn't, and quickly, Freed climbed off of the bed and the other mage, and went to go find the woman's favourite massage oil in the bathroom.

Lucy couldn't help but begin to panic when she realised that Freed had left her. Had that been his plan all along? To touch her, feel her, and then leave halfway through? Surely not. Freed wouldn't do that to me… or so Lucy hoped. "Freed?" she called out, worry stricken and feeling more exposed than before. "Freed? Where did you—" Lucy stopped herself when she felt the mattress dip slightly again, and then a hand ever so gently coming to rest on her shoulder and glide up to cup her cheek. "…Freed?" Lucy whispered. He kissed her then, just softly, and Lucy felt herself relaxing once more. She knew those warm, thin lips anywhere.

Carefully, Freed settled himself back over Lucy's thighs and picked up the bottle of oil he'd retrieved to open the cap. The first dab of the pale-yellow liquid fell in the valley between her breasts, and Lucy flinched when she felt it. Pouring a line down to the middle of his wife's abdomen, Freed replaced the cap and set the oil aside to begin working it into her supple skin. It took only a few moments for Lucy to recognise the scent, and she sighed blissfully with a smile on her lips when her husband's hands massaged and spread the oil out between her breasts and up to her shoulders.

"Mmm, coconut oil?" she murmured. It really was her favourite.

He continued to rub small circles all over her chest and abdomen, spreading his fingers out each time and tucking them back in every time he neared the bottom or sides of her breasts. Lucy felt like she was in heaven though. She'd always loved her husband's hands, especially when digging into her back and shoulders and releasing all the tension she held in them from all the longer missions she took with her team. But right then, he just felt that much better. She was so relaxed that Lucy almost didn't care if all she was going to get that night was one hell of a body massage.

But when Freed finally – oh, fucking finally – let his hands slip down from behind her neck to glide so lightly over each breast, Lucy quickly realised that she really did care about whether or not all she got was that incredible body massage. Just his palms grazing over her nipples that once had the throbbing in her core become that little bit stronger.

His touches her feather-light, circling the fullest curves before slowly applying more pressure. And when he did, morphing into a gentle massage of the sides and the bottoms, Lucy couldn't help but let her mouth fall open and let out tiny, quiet moans. Her breasts had never been particularly sensitive before – at least while she'd been on the contraceptive potion they hadn't been – but the more Freed touched her, squeezed her in his palms, the more Lucy wanted to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the growing ache between them.

Only when her rosy nipples became hard peaks and she began to arch off the mattress and into his palms did Freed finally focus his fingers on the prize; his almost ticklish touches turned to the darker ring around each nipple, before suddenly and harshly, he pinched them between his fingertips.

Lucy gasped, the sudden sharpness of it having her fist her hands in the soft sheets. "F-Freed…"

Her moans egged him on, and he continued to alternate between the feather-light touches and the hard pinches. He hadn't quite expected his wife to react the way she did, arching into him and whimpering each time he brushed over the seemingly sensitive buds, but he could feel his own desire mounting and had to refrain from reaching down just to pleasure himself quickly. Freed prided himself on his patience, but he was seeing Lucy in a new light right then, and he quite frankly didn't know how long he'd be able to last, just touching her and not being inside her.

All over her chest, her shoulders, her stomach, his hands continued to roam, still focusing on the rosy, hardened peaks. Her moans increased, both in volume and frequency, and by the time she was almost panting, Freed couldn't help but slide down her legs just that little more so he could lean down and capture one flushed nipple between his teeth. And, honestly, Lucy had to admit that his lips, tongue, and teeth weren't as good as his fingers – somehow – but it still just felt so damn good, and she had to stop herself from lifting her arms up from where her hands fisted in the sheets just to tangle them in his hair and guide him to all the new, wondrously sensitive places he'd discovered on her.

It was a damn struggle to keep her hands out by her side, as well as her feet spread and legs apart. But when that burning hot feeling inside her suddenly flared to new extremes, right as her husband's tongue traced the edge of one puckered areola, she cracked. And she tipped her head back, mouth open in a silent scream, as her chest arched into his mouth and his hands and her squirmed and squeezed her thighs together right between Freed's own.

"G-God, Freed… That—fuck." Never in her twenty-something years on that green earth had Lucy experienced something like that – something so sudden, so sharp, and so goddamn good. And Freed still sliding his hands over her, up behind her neck before circling back down to cup each breast and repeating the whole cycle, made Lucy blissfully aware of a pleasure she'd never thought to even exist. There were no crashing waves, making her want to curl her toes and cling onto something for dear life. There was just that tingling feeling, starting in her nipples and going all the way down her stomach, to her core – and by that point, Lucy was sure she'd soaked through her panties and onto the sheets with how turned on she was – and the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Each time his fingers brushed over the hardened peaks then, she shivered. She wouldn't be surprised if Freed tried to make her orgasm like that again – of which she was sure had actually happened to begin with – but that wasn't what she needed. She needed him to fill that void within her, the one only he could fill so perfectly, and Lucy was pretty damn sure she'd never felt that needy in her life, not even on their wedding night.

Lucy tried her best to stay still, like he'd told her before, as she whimpered, "Freed, please…" She wasn't above begging at that point. She really wasn't. "I need you… Freed…"

And thankfully, Lucy wasn't going to have to beg. Those were the only words Freed had wanted to hear right then, and he had absolutely no intentions of making his wife wait a second more.

Sitting up and removing himself from over her legs, Freed quickly rid himself of the tight boxer-briefs, a damp stain on the front from his pre-cum, and then situated himself back between his wife's legs. He was frantic, hurried, and by no means patient as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of Lucy's ruined underwear to slide them down her legs.

He didn't bother touching her and making a comment about how wet she was for him – he could see it, for one, and she wasn't going to hear it regardless – but wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked firmly to coat his shaft with the bead of liquid that had formed at the tip. And when he leaned over Lucy then, placing a hand by her head while his other held himself steady, Lucy spread her legs under him, pressing her hips up into him just to get him to hurry up.

"Freed, please," she whined. She felt the head of his cock brush against her swollen clit and she angled her hips up again. Just a little bit more…

And finally, he obliged, pushing into his wife with a poorly contained groan until their hips met and his chest was pressed against hers.

Only then did Lucy let herself move, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and digging her heels into his thighs to pull him in deeper once he started moving himself, slowly thrusting into her tight heat at first. She felt like a damn Christmas tree, every nerve inside her ablaze and the pooling heat within her belly already growing hotter and tighter.

"R-Right there!" It wasn't long before the first of those toe-curling, blissful, mind-numbing waves washed over her, and all Lucy could focus on was the almost painful feeling of her husband filling her up completely and rubbing against every hyper-sensitive spot inside her. "G-God, Freed… I… l-love you…"

A/Ns: Firstly, yes, it is entirely possible to orgasm from nipple/breast stimulation. I did way too much research on that shit, and even now, I still don't think I was able to actually write it very well - everything I read said that it wasn't the same as a clitoral/vaginal climax, and it was more of a 'sudden' thing. So, I tried. I really did lmfao.

Also... yep. I'm too embarrassed to proof read this properly because if I do, I'll just want to delete everything. So, hopefully it's not as terrible as I actually think it is haha. Here's hoping by the time I get the first dozen or so requests done I'll be a little more comfortable writing smut...