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

[depicted]

[Dorian is open and sensitive to Hyde's touch. He is fresh to such contact, experienced with it only once before, and there in limited forms. All his skin seems to shimmer in anticipation, every inch tingling with an electric anticipation—the anticipation of a young lover and the anticipation a frozen doe. Everywhere Hyde's fingers go, muscles contract, pulling back and then pressing forward—I want, I don't want, I want, I don't want—in that hazy, confused state.

But the little shudders never do pull Dorian out of Hyde's grip, and Dorian does try to answer them. He keeps his arm around Hyde's shoulders, half to keep himself steadied and standing, and he reaches his other chest to Hyde's waist—hesitating, uncertain in every gesture. His fingers slid under Hyde's shirt is a shivering imitation of Hyde's own exploration, an attempt to play at readiness for Hyde's advanced, to prove himself a match even where he is so outpaced.

He still mewls in shocked and pained pleasure when Hyde takes a bite.]

[cagedinflesh]

[The inexperience may be painfully obvious, to the extent that a better person might feel badly for Dorian, might slow down and ease into it for him. Guide him along and maybe even confirm with him. But Hyde doesn't care at all, it amuses him the way Dorian tries to keep up and act as if he has any idea what he's doing. He'll just have to have quite the learning curve. What better way to start than by pushing him to the forest floor.

With how aggressive Hyde is, a button or two might need mending by the time he's finished pulling at clothing. He doesn't bother to even try to really undress Dorian, only enough to put him in disarray, enough that there's skin to see and touch, rather than all covered up nice and proper. More neck and chest exposed to Hyde's mouth and teeth, for him to find as he holds himself up, bent over a boy he would kill.]

[depicted]

[The fall knocks the air out of him, leaves him breathless. Paralysed, then, frozen underneath him, as an unvoiced cry of builds up in his head—I don't want, I don't want, I don't want—and he feels as devoured as a prey animal, whimpering at every bite and left gripping tight to Hyde's clothing to try to keep himself steady. For the moment he can't recover, can't try to prove himself experienced as he tries to remember that Hyde won't kill him, Hyde swore to protect him, he is not going to die.]

[cagedinflesh]

[It's exhilarating for the predator to play with its food, and Hyde certainly looks like a snake snapping at the air beside some poor little rodent, coiled around it for no hope of escaping. And it's a light, airy grin and crooning voice that he looks up at Dorian with, interrupted for only a brief moment.]

Are you afraid of me, Dorian...?

[depicted]

[Dorian's breaths are staggered, heavy and panting. It isn't only from the exertion. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated. His skin is flushed deep red.

He doesn't loose his grip on Hyde's clothing, or even move at all.

Slowly, he says,] You are my knight.

[cagedinflesh]

Even so... [Dorian is already beautiful, of course, but all the more so now, disheveled, flushed and apparently in a panic he wants to deny. Hyde's fingers brush against his neck, a deliberate cruelty, but only for an instant before they follow his path down, to grip his hip, free hand curling around him.

YEAH HE'LL CHOKE HIM ALL RIGHT]

[depicted]

[In that instant, the cruelty is answered with a flinch—eyes shut, body recoiling, and then—

He doesn't see what is about to happen before it does. When his eyes open again, they set on Hyde's face. Trembling, he still rolls his hips up towards him.

Very carefully, he moves a hand that had gripped Hyde's shirt to rest around his neck. His thumb strokes down the line that splits it in centre, rests in the delicate hollow at the base.]

[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.]