[ He sighs against Qinghua's mouth as those fingers scratch down his back, a prickle that rouses every sensitive nerve until the man grabs his ass. It makes his kiss rougher, bruising in aggression as he bites and then fucks his tongue forward to dominate the other man's mouth. The handcuffs clink as he jerks his hand; this is what pauses him, drawing away from from Qinghua's mouth to give their wrisits a frown.
Annoying. Limiting. He stops squeezing over the man's balls to reach up and break the links, requiring very little effort to do so. It's—the spirit of pretending like they're still chained up that counts, right? He flings the pieces of metal backwards haphazardly before chinning down, sinking his teeth into the fair column of Qinghua's throat. A rough snag of teeth, though not hard enough to draw blood—he is careful of that much—but enough to leave a possessive print of teeth behind.
He slides down, mouthing over adam's apple and clavicle, glancing up to watch the other man's face for a moment from beneath a veil of lashes and dark bangs. From this position, it is easier to see that his eyes are heterochromatic: hidden behind chops of bangs that part with the shift of his body, a demonic red eye pairs with a gold one, surrounded by a stain of black carapace. A sharp contrast of human and demonic qualities. The symbolism isn't subtle.
Tonguing down the middle of Qinghua's chest, he offers a very simple proposition after going back to kneading the man's cock with a hand: ]
[Shang Qinghua bruises somewhat easily anyway, though it doesn't seem to deter him at all. If anything, that rough and bruising kiss only makes him more excited. His tongue slides against Rokurou's, enthusiastic and open, willing. He tries to chase his mouth when he pulls back, darkened eyes finally settling on the handcuffs, watching him break the links easily. It makes him laugh, and if they're doing that, he'll just direct a thread of pale blue spiritual energy to unlock the half of the set of cuffs still hanging around his wrist, letting it fall away to be forgotten.] Ah, we've been on the same page all along, huh?
[His tease trails off in a gasp as teeth sink into his throat, the sting making him moan and arch up against his partner, wanting that contact, wanting more. When he looks down, catches sight of those hungry eyes looking up at him, he draws in a breath. It's the first time he's really seen the eye hidden behind his hair, the red color of it, an obvious demonic trait. It is... so far from a dealbreaker.
He brings a hand up, touches the pads of his fingers to that mottled darkness around his eye, his touch gentle as he brushes his bangs aside. Shang Qinghua is flushed, his eyes dark and riveted, and he smiles wide at the question.]
[ The daemon squints slightly when fingers brush along his blight. Touch there isn’t particularly common; most shy away from his daemonic traits out of fear or disdain. And yet, he relishes touch against that sensitive carapace that so clearly marks him as other, a stark contrast to the humanity of the left side of his face. He’s always been a man of duality and halves. Which is why he leans into that touch, nuzzling like a spoiled cat, a soft hum of pleasure vibrating low in his throat.
Qinghua’s eager answer earns a genuine laugh. Rokurou turns his mouth in to nip at his palm playfully, glancing back up at the other man with bright eyes. Mismatched, one daemonic and one human, but both with shades of pleasure melting in their hues.
With permission granted, he wastes no more time. Peeling back to slide down the bed, Rokurou’s head bows with a curtain of falling hair, edges ticking along Qinghua’s chest as he kisses his way down. Light, teasing presses with a flick of tongue until he reaches the base of the other man’s cock—there, he curls his fingers around its girth and strokes, smoothing scarred fingers along its ridges and shape. A moment of learning as he glances up from beneath a veil of dark lashes, checking Qinghua’s expressing before pressing his lips along its length.
He’s cute, so why not tease him? Rokurou huffs before kissing up to the tip and flirting his tongue over the head, tasting salt along the divot of a slit before trailing back down along a pronounced vein until he can press his nose into dark curls. From there, he glances up again, looking for approval. ]
[It's unique, a feature Shang Qinghua has never seen before, and he's always had a fascination for the different. Even better when Rokurou leans into the touch, humming in a way that makes Shang Qinghua smile, and he thumbs across the mottled skin appreciatively, drinking in the wanting look in those mis-matched eyes.] Pretty. [Is all he can say, a touch of awe in his voice, along with blatant desire.
It's almost a shame to have him pull away, but his destination is exciting too. The tickle of his hair against his skin, the press of lips and flick of tongue, would have him achingly hard if he weren't already obviously aroused. His breath catches as he stares down at this gorgeous man, touching him, teasing him in a way that gets soft, unconscious sounds out of him.]
Oh, that's nice. [He murmurs, enraptured, reaching a hand down to push back some of Rokurou's hair, thumbing over his cheek. He won't complain about the teasing too much - at least not yet, not while it's still fun. Shang Qinghua isn't quite desperate yet.]
[ Called pretty and given praise? The daemon fluffs up in satisfaction, fine laugh lines creasing at the corner of his human eye as he briefly smiles.
Settling a hand over Qinghua’s outer thigh, his thumb strokes idly as Rokurou grazes his lips back up the length of his erection before taking him properly. A plush slide of lips cushioning teeth and fall of dark hair as he angles forward, using his tongue to guide the head against his inner cheek for a rub. Still slow and tentative as he adjusts, relaxes, exhales through his nose and then sinks down as far as he can comfortably go.
Eager for more praise and touch, he lowers his eyelids and gets to work. The glide of his mouth is tight and hot, slick with added saliva and the cushion of his tongue. A motion that begins slowly but quickly works up in speed; strong shoulders roll with movement, muscles tighten and relax, a show of both strength and finesse as he focuses his attention on working his mouth around Qinghua’s cock. ]
[Ah, if he's going to smile like that, he can have all the praise and compliments he'd like, Shang Qinghua thinks. How terribly handsome.
One of his hands rests over Rokurou's, on his thigh, thumbing over his knuckles as that tempting mouth trails over his cock, and then finally, finally takes him in. His mouth is hot and wet and perfect, and Shang Qinghua groans low, a drawn-out sound as fireworks of pleasure go off in him. It's only the second time he's ever been sucked off like this, and even this slow and exploratory mouthing over hard, sensitive flesh is incredible.]
That's so good, ah, you look so lovely with your mouth wrapped around me like that. [Shang Qinghua croons, hand dipping to thumb softly at the corner of his mouth, unable to take his eyes off him. At least until he takes up a more purposeful pace, mouth sliding over his cock in a way that feels so, so good. He moans again, shameless, fingers curling in his hair and pushing it out of his face, honey brown eyes sliding shut for a moment as a wave of warmth washes over him. His voice is breathless as he says,]
[ 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
sorry for the slow!
Annoying. Limiting. He stops squeezing over the man's balls to reach up and break the links, requiring very little effort to do so. It's—the spirit of pretending like they're still chained up that counts, right? He flings the pieces of metal backwards haphazardly before chinning down, sinking his teeth into the fair column of Qinghua's throat. A rough snag of teeth, though not hard enough to draw blood—he is careful of that much—but enough to leave a possessive print of teeth behind.
He slides down, mouthing over adam's apple and clavicle, glancing up to watch the other man's face for a moment from beneath a veil of lashes and dark bangs. From this position, it is easier to see that his eyes are heterochromatic: hidden behind chops of bangs that part with the shift of his body, a demonic red eye pairs with a gold one, surrounded by a stain of black carapace. A sharp contrast of human and demonic qualities. The symbolism isn't subtle.
Tonguing down the middle of Qinghua's chest, he offers a very simple proposition after going back to kneading the man's cock with a hand: ]
Can I suck you off?
likewise :'D february has been a month...
[His tease trails off in a gasp as teeth sink into his throat, the sting making him moan and arch up against his partner, wanting that contact, wanting more. When he looks down, catches sight of those hungry eyes looking up at him, he draws in a breath. It's the first time he's really seen the eye hidden behind his hair, the red color of it, an obvious demonic trait. It is... so far from a dealbreaker.
He brings a hand up, touches the pads of his fingers to that mottled darkness around his eye, his touch gentle as he brushes his bangs aside. Shang Qinghua is flushed, his eyes dark and riveted, and he smiles wide at the question.]
Yeah. Fuck yes.
:’D I am the slowest… pls ignore me if too old!!
Qinghua’s eager answer earns a genuine laugh. Rokurou turns his mouth in to nip at his palm playfully, glancing back up at the other man with bright eyes. Mismatched, one daemonic and one human, but both with shades of pleasure melting in their hues.
With permission granted, he wastes no more time. Peeling back to slide down the bed, Rokurou’s head bows with a curtain of falling hair, edges ticking along Qinghua’s chest as he kisses his way down. Light, teasing presses with a flick of tongue until he reaches the base of the other man’s cock—there, he curls his fingers around its girth and strokes, smoothing scarred fingers along its ridges and shape. A moment of learning as he glances up from beneath a veil of dark lashes, checking Qinghua’s expressing before pressing his lips along its length.
He’s cute, so why not tease him? Rokurou huffs before kissing up to the tip and flirting his tongue over the head, tasting salt along the divot of a slit before trailing back down along a pronounced vein until he can press his nose into dark curls. From there, he glances up again, looking for approval. ]
it's all good, i'm happy to keep going!
It's almost a shame to have him pull away, but his destination is exciting too. The tickle of his hair against his skin, the press of lips and flick of tongue, would have him achingly hard if he weren't already obviously aroused. His breath catches as he stares down at this gorgeous man, touching him, teasing him in a way that gets soft, unconscious sounds out of him.]
Oh, that's nice. [He murmurs, enraptured, reaching a hand down to push back some of Rokurou's hair, thumbing over his cheek. He won't complain about the teasing too much - at least not yet, not while it's still fun. Shang Qinghua isn't quite desperate yet.]
Yay~
Settling a hand over Qinghua’s outer thigh, his thumb strokes idly as Rokurou grazes his lips back up the length of his erection before taking him properly. A plush slide of lips cushioning teeth and fall of dark hair as he angles forward, using his tongue to guide the head against his inner cheek for a rub. Still slow and tentative as he adjusts, relaxes, exhales through his nose and then sinks down as far as he can comfortably go.
Eager for more praise and touch, he lowers his eyelids and gets to work. The glide of his mouth is tight and hot, slick with added saliva and the cushion of his tongue. A motion that begins slowly but quickly works up in speed; strong shoulders roll with movement, muscles tighten and relax, a show of both strength and finesse as he focuses his attention on working his mouth around Qinghua’s cock. ]
no subject
One of his hands rests over Rokurou's, on his thigh, thumbing over his knuckles as that tempting mouth trails over his cock, and then finally, finally takes him in. His mouth is hot and wet and perfect, and Shang Qinghua groans low, a drawn-out sound as fireworks of pleasure go off in him. It's only the second time he's ever been sucked off like this, and even this slow and exploratory mouthing over hard, sensitive flesh is incredible.]
That's so good, ah, you look so lovely with your mouth wrapped around me like that. [Shang Qinghua croons, hand dipping to thumb softly at the corner of his mouth, unable to take his eyes off him. At least until he takes up a more purposeful pace, mouth sliding over his cock in a way that feels so, so good. He moans again, shameless, fingers curling in his hair and pushing it out of his face, honey brown eyes sliding shut for a moment as a wave of warmth washes over him. His voice is breathless as he says,]
Yes, oh, that's perfect.
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. ]