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yourlenore) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-02-01 01:02 pm
yourlenore) wrote in crescentview2023-02-01 01:02 pm
Fall Catchall
Who: Mishka & friends
What: Bingo, Arco Lunar, misc.
When: Fall
Where: Out & About
Warnings: ???
stand up with my palms full of soil & rosary
bruised rosary
blooming rosary
maybe I just need to smoke more & stretch & eat frivolous things &
anyway
I’m working on it
no subject
The remark earns a low, unnaturally sensual chuckle to bubble in his throat. His hands move again, less elegantly this time, as they come to rest on Mishka's hips, to hold him in place as he thrusts a few, slow times. His eyes flutter, physically feeling what Mishka puts into words, and he hums. ]
I can. [ It's...an odd sensation, feeling himself like this. To feel himself entangled with another like this. It makes something deep in him stir. He wants more.
Or maybe that's just the aphrodisiacs speaking.
But Mishka needs help. It happens in a split second--Trahearne's arms come around him, holding him in an embrace as he rolls them over on the bed, flipping their positions. He props himself up with both hands on either side of his head, and for a split second, he just...looks at him. How his sweaty hair splays out around him, how the faint shadow from the indent of the sheets frame him.
It's weird knowing he can do this to someone. And he'll keep thinking that thought.
But he doesn't linger too long. He straightens himself and pulls out with a throaty exhale. Oh, how painfully hard he still is. ]
no subject
It offends his pride deep in him to feel so influenced by substance (alcohol, and aphrodisiacs), but in the moment he's glad for it, because he gets to see how Trahearne looks over him, how Trahearne looks at him with such interest, and focus; not at all like their first time, when he only thought of Syrlya. He doesn't care if someone wants to use him only as a body, because he doesn't sleep with people for love, but— the way Trahearne looks at him now, and looks so clearly affected by him, sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn't know if he wants to kiss him, or eat him.
(Did Trahearne enjoy himself this much last time, was he truly so engaged with him this time, or is it only the aphrodisiacs?)
Already breathing heavy from Trahearne's slow thrusts, his voice spills as Trahearne pulls from him, and, though his nails curled into Trahearne's chest suggests he likes it, some belated sense of embarrassment brings a hand to his mouth (not tight over it, just there) to muffle it, if only half-successfully, the heat gathering at his tip and knot his stomach, where it still feels sticky with cum.
He pushes himself up a little unevenly, not at all unaffected by their amount of play, into a half-sit until he shifts to lay on his side, between Trahearne's legs, finding himself so close to the sticky thing that'd just been in him. Unfortunately, it turns him on. )
... I can't imagine... how you got this in me. ( he teases, fingers curling around the base to stroke it, hold it proper upright, as he presses his lips to the base, and drags his tongue up, as if getting a taste for him and his strange texture. ) Here.
( A little blindly, he reaches for Trahearne's hand and drags it to his head, smiling almost coyly at him from his angle below. )
Pull... when you want more.
( Vague, but Trahearne is a big boy, he can figure it out. More, deeper, sluttier... whatever. At least Mishka will get a little bonus out of this. )
no subject
Not like he needs to, because the warm, wet tongue on him has his eyes fall shut, ripples of a different kind of pleasure shooting through him. He breathes, trying not to fall over, and he glances down at Mishka. The way he lays there, how his body twists, looking up at him with his cock by his face--it does things to him.
He scarcely notices his own hand being moved, and only realizes when his hand is placed on Mishka's head. His fingers burrow into the strands of his hair, pressing lightly against his scalp, perhaps a little more gently than the command, the charged atmosphere demands. ]
O-okay.
[ His voice cracks when he speaks, but he's beyond being embarrassed about any of this. He rests, settling on his heels, not entirely sure if he's ready for what Mishka's about to give him. ]
no subject
He strokes the length of Trahearne's cock as he works his tongue along the underside, tongue wet, breath warm, and thumbs the tip with a sort of curiosity, idly wondering if it's sensitive the way a human's might be. Somewhere through the flushed haze of his expression (and deeper flush along his shoulders down), it's clear Mishka likes this very much; Trahearne tastes sweet, and it's worse knowing how much it turns him on to clean up a cock that'd just been fucking him.
He can feel how his insects swarm in him with a passionate delight, and that frenetic frenzy in his arousal-addled head only seems to make him that much more eager in how he drags his tongue along the sweet sugar-sap and mess and sucks along his length, until it's his tongue teasing at his tip; and then, his lips, his attitude only increasingly excited, increasingly eager, to take from the source. )
no subject
Luckily, he doesn't. And so he concentrates wholly on the way Mishka drags his tongue up his length, how he teases the tip; his breathing is labored with anticipation, and he shudders with each ministration. His eyes are lidded, his face flushed, all signs of how much he enjoys this, how good it feels to have Mishka push him closer to relief.
But it isn't enough.
He wants to come. He wants Mishka to swallow him whole and take every last drop of him. He looks at the way his body is twisted between his legs, and he wants to see more of it. He wants to see the flush over the entirety of his body as he sucks him off.
So for a brief moment, his fingers are gentle as they weave through soft, black hair. They tangle in his strands, finding purchase--
--And he pulls. He exhales sharply, a command that never finds voice. More. Sluttier. ]