[ If he had a tail it would be wagging. With a thing for mature, older people and a hunger for praise, Rokurou eats it up. Praise and affection were never given in his clan—his strict mother had never said he’d ever done a good job, not once. Satisfaction wells up, a thick honey in his chest. It’s enough that he forgets his own dick, hard and throbbing against the bed, in favor of more approval.
It feels good. He feels good. Rokurou glances up at him, mismatched eyes bright before he dips down again to grind the head of Qinghua’s dick into his throat. Encouraging more of that voice, that shuddering breath. His fingers curl, digging down hard as he jerks Qinghua up to him, trying to guide him to the edge and then over with the coaxing suck of his mouth.
His next upward glance is more purposeful. A commanding look, one demanding that the older man give it all up and finish in his mouth so he can really taste him. Rokurou refuses to let him squirm away to come on the sheets; right now, this is all his. Give him what he wants. He’s younger and allowed to be unreasonable, right? ]
[Ah, those spoiled didi vibes. Somehow he finds it incredibly charming, the way the praise seems to make Rokurou glow with pleasure, eyes bright whenever he looks up through his lashes at Shang Qinghua. His fingers flex in Rokurou's hair, tugging appreciatively as another wave of pleasure washes over him.
It's incredible, the heady warmth that keeps building and building in his core, setting his nerves alight. His breath quickens as Rokurou seems to double his efforts, and god, who can deny a look like that? Shang Qinghua is absolutely happy to give him what he wants, indulge him. His hips jerk, an aborted little movement, and it doesn't take much longer at all for him to come, spilling hot into his mouth with a low groan of bliss.]
Ah, god, feels so good, you're so good to me, huh? [It's mindless babble in a pleasure-filled haze, more of that praise that he seems to like so much, because yes, he deserves all that and more for a blowjob that leaves him boneless and feeling tingly good all over. When he opens his eyes and looks downward, smiling, eyes still so dark as he takes him in - he gets just a glimpse of where Rokurou is hard against the sheets.] Fuck, so pretty, look at you. Let me help with that, you deserve to feel nice too.
[ He isn’t especially accustomed to swallowing, but Rokurou Rangetsu is no quitter. He exhales through his nose while knocking it back like a shot, licking the tacky remains from his lips afterward. It’s an unfamiliar weight in his belly, one he doesn’t know if he likes or dislikes, but he does like that babbled praise.
He leans back onto his knees when finished, looking quite pleased with himself. Turned on, he gives his erection a few lazy strokes, brief self-comfort as he rolls onto the bed beside Qinghua so that their heads are level. ]
How do you want to help me? [ his grin is wicked, teasing, ] I could use your thighs if you’re tired, but I’d really like to fuck you down into the mattress.
[ Daemons have too much energy, after all—and he’s vibrating with it, only energized by the effort of giving head. ]
[He doesn't think to apologize for that, even if maybe he should. Shang Qinghua's brain is a lovely, spacey mess of feel-good hormones, and all he can really think about is wanting to give as much pleasure as he was given in turn. Rokurou rolls onto the bed beside him, and he reaches down to curl his fingers around the other man's cock, stroking slowly as if to tide him over, grinning with that warm, pleased expression on his face.]
It takes more than that to wear me out. [He's a cultivator, after all, and while he might still have a refractory period (his novel-world was only that ridiculous when it came to the almighty protagonist), he has plenty of willingness to go.] Fuck me as hard as you want. I'm all yours.
[Too much energy makes for a fun time, in his opinion. With his free hand, he reaches across to the end table for the bottle of lube, dangling it teasingly, temptingly.]
[ A teasing comment, but he sure as hell takes that bottle of lube. How much, exactly, will it take to wear Shang Qinghua out? Because the comment sounds like a challenge to a very challenge-motivated daemon.
He bows to snap his teeth over a thigh, giving a good bite before cracking the bottle open. A few drops slick his fingers before he rubs them up against Qinghua’s ass, beginning with a single finger. A thrust to the first knuckle, then the second, before gesturing to run against inner walls.
Despite appearances, he is a considerate man. Careful even when he wants to sink his fangs down and taste blood. A reckoning between man and monster, nature versus nurture. He is unwilling to hurt the other man (like this)—so Rokurou patiently works him open until he can comfortably scissor two fingers.
Patience thinned, he gives himself a few strokes to lube his dick before grabbing Qinghua’s hips, dragging him in hard with a playful snap. Wanting to waste no time and catch him while he’s still tingling in afterglow, Rokurou drives his cock inside with a relieved groan. A hot clutch that he’s been desperately wanting since before they even stripped.
Gripping hard onto hips while his tongue sweeps, Rokurou does as promised—throws himself into fucking Qinghua within an inch of his life. A flex of thick corded muscle, inky trails of dark hair, highlights of sweat along wheat skin. The effort, the grind, the ache… fuck. They all feel so good that they’re addicting and he doesn’t want to stop.
Reward for a job well done? [Shang Qinghua laughs, teasing, still managing to sound a bit breathless and fucked out. Even though they aren't anywhere near done - he can hazard a guess at what a daemon's stamina will be like, and he's up to the challenge of keeping up.
And as relaxed as he is already, it doesn't take long to work him open. Shang Qinghua is rocking back against his fingers soon, sighing pleasantly at the stretch and the wet glide of his digits. When he's pulled by the hips, he just laughs and reaches out for him to draw him closer, tilting his hips up, ready and open.]
Ah, fuck, that's good. [He moans, clenching around him as he thrusts inside, quick and hard and good in the way the ache combines with the hazy afterglow pleasure of his own orgasm. He rolls his hips as much as he can, gripped as hard as he is, but he also winds his arms around his neck to drag him down for a biting, open-mouthed kiss. They don't need restraint, or thought - he's happy to just lose himself in sensation, in the edge of almost too much that he'll remember after this is over.]
[ Rokurou bends beneath the weight of Qinghua's arm. Mouth meeting mouth, Rokurou groans against the kiss before melting into it with a snap of teeth. Lazy pleasure from gliding tongues threads together with the iron-sparked heat of every thrust as he drives into the slick clutch of Qinghua's body. Thought is something he is all too happy to lose; overwhelmed by sensation, the daemon focuses on moving his body and the way Qinghua feels beneath him.
He exhales before surging down into the kiss with more urgency. Every thrust is a demand for more while continues to take, joyfully greedy and unrestrained. True enough: a daemon's stamina is not to be trifled with. The minutes pass and he continues to thrust, fingers digging hard into Qinghua's hips as he tosses the man this way and that, grabbing to angle him in ways that feel good. The game manager, who has been outside the door the whole time, idly checks his watch a few times out of boredom — not like they can reset the room until the current players are done.
Relishing the freedom to play freely, Rokurou breaks the kiss only to bite at Qinghua's neck and shoulders. Rough play that leaves plenty of red marks behind, but never quite crossing the line of too painful. He bites, he paws, he throws the older man around. Really, poor Qinghua deserves a medal after this. Or at least some nice aftercare.
When he finally does reach his climax after too much time has passed, he digs his filthy paws in to drag Qinghua hard against himself. Pulling out when he finishes doesn't even cross his mind; he goes balls deep, releasing inside, and shivering in the enjoyment of it. ]
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shittyauthor) wrote2024-02-08 09:35 pm
no subject
It feels good. He feels good. Rokurou glances up at him, mismatched eyes bright before he dips down again to grind the head of Qinghua’s dick into his throat. Encouraging more of that voice, that shuddering breath. His fingers curl, digging down hard as he jerks Qinghua up to him, trying to guide him to the edge and then over with the coaxing suck of his mouth.
His next upward glance is more purposeful. A commanding look, one demanding that the older man give it all up and finish in his mouth so he can really taste him. Rokurou refuses to let him squirm away to come on the sheets; right now, this is all his. Give him what he wants. He’s younger and allowed to be unreasonable, right? ]
no subject
It's incredible, the heady warmth that keeps building and building in his core, setting his nerves alight. His breath quickens as Rokurou seems to double his efforts, and god, who can deny a look like that? Shang Qinghua is absolutely happy to give him what he wants, indulge him. His hips jerk, an aborted little movement, and it doesn't take much longer at all for him to come, spilling hot into his mouth with a low groan of bliss.]
Ah, god, feels so good, you're so good to me, huh? [It's mindless babble in a pleasure-filled haze, more of that praise that he seems to like so much, because yes, he deserves all that and more for a blowjob that leaves him boneless and feeling tingly good all over. When he opens his eyes and looks downward, smiling, eyes still so dark as he takes him in - he gets just a glimpse of where Rokurou is hard against the sheets.] Fuck, so pretty, look at you. Let me help with that, you deserve to feel nice too.
no subject
He leans back onto his knees when finished, looking quite pleased with himself. Turned on, he gives his erection a few lazy strokes, brief self-comfort as he rolls onto the bed beside Qinghua so that their heads are level. ]
How do you want to help me? [ his grin is wicked, teasing, ] I could use your thighs if you’re tired, but I’d really like to fuck you down into the mattress.
[ Daemons have too much energy, after all—and he’s vibrating with it, only energized by the effort of giving head. ]
no subject
It takes more than that to wear me out. [He's a cultivator, after all, and while he might still have a refractory period (his novel-world was only that ridiculous when it came to the almighty protagonist), he has plenty of willingness to go.] Fuck me as hard as you want. I'm all yours.
[Too much energy makes for a fun time, in his opinion. With his free hand, he reaches across to the end table for the bottle of lube, dangling it teasingly, temptingly.]
no subject
[ A teasing comment, but he sure as hell takes that bottle of lube. How much, exactly, will it take to wear Shang Qinghua out? Because the comment sounds like a challenge to a very challenge-motivated daemon.
He bows to snap his teeth over a thigh, giving a good bite before cracking the bottle open. A few drops slick his fingers before he rubs them up against Qinghua’s ass, beginning with a single finger. A thrust to the first knuckle, then the second, before gesturing to run against inner walls.
Despite appearances, he is a considerate man. Careful even when he wants to sink his fangs down and taste blood. A reckoning between man and monster, nature versus nurture. He is unwilling to hurt the other man (like this)—so Rokurou patiently works him open until he can comfortably scissor two fingers.
Patience thinned, he gives himself a few strokes to lube his dick before grabbing Qinghua’s hips, dragging him in hard with a playful snap. Wanting to waste no time and catch him while he’s still tingling in afterglow, Rokurou drives his cock inside with a relieved groan. A hot clutch that he’s been desperately wanting since before they even stripped.
Gripping hard onto hips while his tongue sweeps, Rokurou does as promised—throws himself into fucking Qinghua within an inch of his life. A flex of thick corded muscle, inky trails of dark hair, highlights of sweat along wheat skin. The effort, the grind, the ache… fuck. They all feel so good that they’re addicting and he doesn’t want to stop.
So he won’t. ]
no subject
And as relaxed as he is already, it doesn't take long to work him open. Shang Qinghua is rocking back against his fingers soon, sighing pleasantly at the stretch and the wet glide of his digits. When he's pulled by the hips, he just laughs and reaches out for him to draw him closer, tilting his hips up, ready and open.]
Ah, fuck, that's good. [He moans, clenching around him as he thrusts inside, quick and hard and good in the way the ache combines with the hazy afterglow pleasure of his own orgasm. He rolls his hips as much as he can, gripped as hard as he is, but he also winds his arms around his neck to drag him down for a biting, open-mouthed kiss. They don't need restraint, or thought - he's happy to just lose himself in sensation, in the edge of almost too much that he'll remember after this is over.]
Hard, yes- ah!
no subject
He exhales before surging down into the kiss with more urgency. Every thrust is a demand for more while continues to take, joyfully greedy and unrestrained. True enough: a daemon's stamina is not to be trifled with. The minutes pass and he continues to thrust, fingers digging hard into Qinghua's hips as he tosses the man this way and that, grabbing to angle him in ways that feel good. The game manager, who has been outside the door the whole time, idly checks his watch a few times out of boredom — not like they can reset the room until the current players are done.
Relishing the freedom to play freely, Rokurou breaks the kiss only to bite at Qinghua's neck and shoulders. Rough play that leaves plenty of red marks behind, but never quite crossing the line of too painful. He bites, he paws, he throws the older man around. Really, poor Qinghua deserves a medal after this. Or at least some nice aftercare.
When he finally does reach his climax after too much time has passed, he digs his filthy paws in to drag Qinghua hard against himself. Pulling out when he finishes doesn't even cross his mind; he goes balls deep, releasing inside, and shivering in the enjoyment of it. ]