permanent open post

[turtleen]

Muselist here

This post comes with several options:
1) Give me a prompt
2) Give me a blank response and I'll go with something

And within those options:
A) Just post with one of your characters and I'll choose which of mine
B) Ask for whoever you want of mine but leave yours up to me
C) Several options for either
D) I can even pick for both maybe

You can leave something to be done now, or maybe down the line sometime, YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN I MIGHT STRIKE or maybe you do...

Also use this for whatever memes or PSL stuff you want to spring on me any time.

Comments

[cagedinflesh]

[Fear and pleasure should go hand in hand. For all that Hyde is deliberately fearsome, he is also equally aggressive with what he gives as what he takes. Although it may be that his giving is for selfish reasons - and so in the end, give and take are much the same thing. He wants it for his own enjoyment, in the end. Stroking Dorian with his fingers is only entertaining enough for a moment.

His neck presses back against Dorian's hand, as he moves to run his tongue along his prey, entertained by every small twitch and tremble - eyes always locked onto his face for its reactions. And he must wonder just how inexperienced the boy is, what is new to him, and what may not be. Maybe he can find out if he pays attention.]

[depicted]

[It is all new to him, all fresh, all unknown. Constance was smooth, elegant, careful. Hyde is aggressive, monstrous even, unlike anything he has ever known except the viciousness that leads to death. So Dorian's face is an open book even as he squeezes his eyes shut again, and every gasp and whimper tells itself without any more disguise than Dorian's poor attempts to insist that he is capable of matching this, that he is more than prey but a predator in his own right. The hand that tightens around Hyde's throat, presses down into the hollow of it, is as much reflex, desperate hope for something stabilizing. The fingers that scratch down Hyde's back are as much the desperate clawing of a caught bird as they are the voice of lust.

And even then he opens himself wider to Hyde, spreads his legs and twists them in craving more touch, raises his chest and turns his head wanting more teeth. The single word, begging,] Please, [could as easily be a cry for more as it might be a cry for Hyde to stop.]