[it's one, two, three whole wrappings of slender vines before sizhui even considers withdrawing his hands. when he does, he lets his fingertips drift up soren's arms, all the way up to his shoulders, back across his nape and then down between the shoulderblades. this is what soren had asked for, so sizhui's going to give it to him, in whatever ways necessary to both his partner and for himself to get the dragon to submit. the head-butting is unexpected, truthfully, and he can't help snickering softly at that and the pitiful attempt at putting a knee, well, wherever soren's trying to get it? either way, it won't get far, given he's pressing his forehead back in kind while smoothing a hand downward again, pushing it over soren's ass, calling upon another vine to curve around the length of his leg and over his tail, pinning the struggling limbs together in a better form of control.
he's still motionless, too. letting soren squirm and writhe and groan as he tries freeing himself, though to no avail. after soren's stopped fighting, he will try rolling him over again then he'll get into fucking him senseless.]
[a full-body shiver surges through him as sizhui's touch glides over his form while he's helpless to stop it. his tail lashes upon sensing the binds try to weave it against his leg, but it only amounts to whipping leaves and petals up into the air and over them and the bedspread. the vines are too tough and flexible to snap this way, and even when he tries to lift it high and out of the way, the tendrils hug it to his limb, reducing its range of motion severely and neutering its power even to deflower. despite this, soren still wriggles in his hold, eyes creasing with the increased but vain effort, and something of a muted whimper slips through the groaning. the thing is, he can't resist.
[the incessant struggling never ceases to amaze him; soren still having fight in him is a turn-on, one sizhui wouldn't have thought about much before, but with his vines pinning the dragon in place, it's a whole other story. while he isn't often in this position, it makes sense why people like to be, to watch their partner fight with everything they have, and still be unable to resist. being fair here, watching foliage come loose and twist up into the air around them is an amusing sight in and of itself, which is initially why sizhui smirks, but it's the lesser squirming, the whimper, the fact soren knows he can't get free that really delights the púca.
oh, the irony there is so, so sweet.
sizhui finally takes advantage, moving both hands to soren's knees, gripping underneath them and rolling the rest of the way over, effectively pinning soren on his back. he props their foreheads together, still grinning like an absolute shit, his hips drawing back then thrusting forward none-too-gently. once, twice, and a third time, slowly but surely picking up speed the more he goes.]
[each drive unravels him toward the end of his rope. each drive received in excruciating, explosive detail, each delivering him from the numbness he knows he will plunge back into once he's finished him up, each crash of his hips upon his serving strangling pleasure, burning and coalescing into flames too brilliant not to blind the both of them before completely devouring them. the dragon howls, his free limbs no longer instruments of escape but bindings that fix his powerful lover to himself, wings and legs and strung tail alike, squeezing with the strength of a combatant but ultimately an ally in their tussle, encouraging him to work toward the culmination of what they both want in this frantic moment spent between them.
this isn't like yakumo at all. well, there's the emptiness that threatens to enfold him once they're over, but this is sizhui. a year and more of this man, their limbs arranged in myriad ways to ends just like this one, the distinction of being before ike's reappearance, and now finally after. someone he's grown used to, the scent and the taste and the feel of him never causing harm but bringing him solace and relief, things he didn't know he wanted to cling to so badly. the force is a farce at the heart of it: he's letting him in, and oh, it feels like he's soaring beyond places his body can reach. his claws dig into his flesh and his limbs possess the rabbit monster as if he's the last scrap of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world that spins him around and spits him out at will.]
[he's never felt a sensation like this, a slow, ever-building pressure in a completely different way as he consistently rolls his hips back and forward, his breath coming heavier and heavier with each motion. his own pleasure is great, especially the way he's able to grip soren's thighs so meanly, keeping his legs held aloft and mostly spread apart, his half-lidded gaze watching, enraptured. and when soren cries out, he momentarily stops, plants his feet to brace himself on his toes, keeping his hips completely flush against soren, letting him feel the entirety of his length before he withdraws again and continues what he'd been doing, movements slightly quicker.
it feels like this is what's helping soren the most, taking him to a height he's either not known and one he hasn't experienced many times before; soren has been vocal during their couplings, but he's never been so loud and forthright. sizhui wants to keep going, regardless of the burn of claws cutting him open and the scrape of limbs, he's pouring all his dedication into making certain soren comes first now. his own pleasure can wait, watching the dragon's face contort, his chest rise and fall, the way he squirms— he totally has his priorities in order here.]
[coherency tossed and turned and tumbling away, soren can only burble a pathetic moan in reply at first as the pleasure sizhui pumps into him crescendos after the full and weighty pause that precedes more, more. on some level, he recognizes what a mess he must look and sound like, driven mad by the motions that hit him deep where he aches and the helplessness he feels with every futile jerk of his arms pulled behind himself, and it burns in his cheeks and trembles in his thighs. his eyes flutter open to see sizhui framed by the dark curtain of hair that tickles his cheek, face drawn in rapture with every ounce of his focus pinned on him as he brings him closer to release frightfully fast whether he likes or not, no moderation accessible. his insides do a little flip. tears bead at the corners of his eyes.]
You're m-making me... oh! Feel too good not to...!
[this is punctuated by a heavy contraction and slickness that pools flush against the instrument of his impending demise.]
[while that isn't the noise that initially does him in, it is a response that urges sizhui to keep going, his upper-half lurching forward somewhat, just enough so he can press their foreheads together. he's openly panting, puffing across soren's mouth, those long black rabbit ears flattened against his head with the effort he's putting into pretty much fucking soren into the mattress. it feels good, it feels so good, it's nearly impossible for him to have already held out for as long as he has, and yet sizhui's still going, waiting for the exact moment where he'll know: he's finally going to get what he's been working so hard for.
and it's so worth it in the end.
the sudden gush of fluid, that tightening around his cock, there's no mistaking it at that point, and a pleased little smirk lifts sizhui's lips at the edges. he hums with approval, shifts his hands to soren's thighs, grips with all his might then pumps into him a few more times, staccato and unsteady as he comes with a low, guttural-sounding grunt shortly thereafter.]
[it's seismic, how he quakes against the brunt of his own release and his partner's drilling into him, unable to channel any excess energy out by moving his limbs. he wails, powerless to stop this full-body takeover. even after he'd ceased orgasm, he throbs with the aftershock of it, and with what's left of his victorious puca's still sloppily pumping into him it feels like he'd never stopped at all.
worst of all, he's crying. the tears won't stop spilling and his throat won't untighten. his face feels hot and he can't even try to hide it from sizhui, so he shuts his eyes so he doesn't have to see him looking at him.]
[his nails clench so hard into soren's thighs, it's a wonder that he has enough brain power to not ferociously tear into his skin. there will surely be marks, there's no way there won't be, but the little pinpricks are nothing in comparison. even after he's come, sizhui doesn't immediately stop, he keeps thrusting into the tight, wet heat, the sound percussive and loud and lewd— but once the haze clears from his vision, he does finally still the wild motions, his breath heaving.
blinking through the remaining spots, sizhui casts a downward glance to soren, his eyebrows knitted, both hands releasing his legs so he can lift one and gently rest it against the dragon's face, the pad of his thumb swiping through the tear streaks.] Soren... hey, are you okay? [was it too much? had he hurt him? he's never seen him cry like that before, so it's a bit worrisome.]
[deep down, soren knows the correct answer to that question. instead, he gives him a lie.]
I'm fine...
[there is some truth embedded in the lie. realizing with deep shame the various conclusions that could be drawn of his unexpected reaction, sizhui must be fraught about being responsible for the outpour. he swallows thickly, maintaining the screen of his eyelids over his vision.]
It's just... a s-stupid... [he draws a shuddering breath as quietly as he can possibly make it.] It wasn't you. I'm not hurt. Leave me be...
[which sizhui knows is at least partially a lie because soren wouldn't cry if he was fine like he's saying.
is this sub drop? he's heard of it before and he's experienced it once or twice himself, but he never knew what it was called until recently. his lips press together, his brow knits and he oh-so-slowly begins pulling back, reluctantly withdrawing from the sweet heat, although he doesn't pull away entirely. he keeps wiping away the tears, watching closely, trying to decide what he should do in this situation, even if he already knows what he should do.
mostly, he just wants soren to admit that he's not okay, which he nearly does, but not without a little bit of that usual soren attitude.] Soren... it's okay, you can tell me. [sizhui's other arm moves and encircles the smaller male's waist, holding him tight, his fingers gently moving down his cheek to his neck in a soft, soothing motion.]
[soren is starting to feel cornered. his soppy feelings are all on display, and he can't do anything to retreat. frustration pricks at him, unraveling what little composure he even has left. he works harder at the tangle of vines.]
Why do you need to know? I already told you, you have nothing to do with this!
[those vines don't loosen nor do they tighten; they stay just as they are, securely holding soren's arms despite his struggling, and sizhui raises his other hand to take hold of soren's chin, forcing the other male to hold eye-contact.]
If something is bothering you, I want to know. Whatever it is, it's made you cry, which is not something I'm used to seeing from you.
[how is he supposed to articulate something he's scarcely able to apprehend himself? this mess of emotions that sprung out to consume him after falling from the heights of uncontrollable pleasure? this incapacity wedges yet more frustration into him, and he growls like an unreasonable animal, his pupils constricting, his head twisting away but getting nowhere.]
I hate everything. [he smolders with sobby vehemence.] Amani. My powerlessness, my losses. What Aefenglom has done to me...
[the growl catches him off-guard enough, he withdraws his hand from soren's face and plants it beside his head instead, his brow furrowed with confusion. oh... never in his life would he have imagined that it was something like that and yet there it is anyway. he wrinkles his nose, reaches with the opposite hand and pushes some hair away from his face, trying to understand what exactly he's being told.]
...I'm sorry. [because what else does he say?] Although I don't understand why you think you're powerless. [sure, they can't control when they leave these worlds, but that would make everything too easy, of course.]
[he drags a tremulous sigh from his lungs. he knows how he must look and how difficult he must be, and he despises it. his eyes fall shut once more, and the fight in him wanes as he tries to recollect himself from this overwrought and rather puerile fit.]
...It's ironic, considering how much more powerful I have become. But I am like a beast inside of an indestructible cage, unable to go where I need to, subjected to the forces that govern my prison. There is no power in an existence like this; you know this as much as I do. Moreover, my body becomes a slave to primal forces... like the one that led me to your bed in the first place.
[with some obvious reluctance, sizhui lets the vines holding soren in place loosen and withdraw, the tendrils disappearing after a couple of moments. he figures it's safe enough that the other male doesn't plan on trying to make a run for it now, not when he's worn him down so much.
his head tilts with inquisitiveness, brows knitting together when soren mentions ‘an indestructible cage’, attention downcasting afterward, his eyes eventually sinking shut. yes, he knows all too well how hard it can be to resist such primal forces... but he has accepted it as something that cannot be changed and the sooner he did so, the easier it became to let himself give in. fortunately, he's found a couple of people on amani who don't mind helping him, which is quite helpful whenever one doesn't want to sleep around with more than a handful of individuals.] I understand now and I do know how it feels. It feels exactly like you said: like we have no power over it, but we are lucky to still have our autonomy.
[the rash of defensiveness had faded to the point that soren is no longer inclined to scrabble for distance between himself and sizhui. once freed, he collapses onto his elbows and props himself up some. to further regain composure, he sighs a long breath and considers what sizhui had just said.]
To a point, [he replies with a shake of his head.] When I can control myself, maybe. I can't even make the choice to follow Ike, wherever he went. That's all I really want to do. But no, I continue to be coerced and incentivized to play sex bingo instead, because it might just save a world I'd be content to let burn.
[without the people he's come to care for in it, of course. but let him be bitterly dramatic about it.]
[while soren props himself up, sizhui leans back slightly, settling on his knees, both hands coming down to rest on his thighs. what soren says is true: they can't follow those who leave and, try as they might, there's nothing they can do to fix that little problem either.]
You have better self-control than you give yourself credit for. [another true thing, even though he's seen the way instincts have taken over soren's senses. maybe it's because he thinks he himself doesn't have nearly as good control over his own and, in his opinion, he believes he gives in far too easily, much like he'd done when soren climbed in through his window to have sex.
before he can say anything about the whole ike thing, the world burning comment catches his attention first and has his whole face scrunching like he's sucked a lemon. he shakes his head afterward, exhales a sigh then raises a hand to push damp hair off his shoulders.] There are people I wish I could follow too, but for whatever reason, we can't do that because the world won't let us leave with those we care about most.
[it doesn't matter if sizhui thinks he has self-control. it doesn't change how it feels to lose it, how many times he has when sizhui wasn't looking.
but it's true that despite how convinced he is that no one can match the intensity with which he longs to be with ike, he's not the only one who would be better off with someone else.]
It would be more effective for the Overseer's little project if she would more properly select who stays and who goes. In my case, she can bank on my draconic hormones and the ways in which we can be manipulated... but my draw to him is more natural. It needs no manipulation.
[no response is a response in and of itself; soren likely thinks he's wrong and sizhui's fine accepting that rather than sitting and trying to argue.
he huffs a wry laugh, brings his attention back to soren and,] That would make sense and it seems like the Overseer much prefers doing things that don't make sense. Unfortunately, that means taking people away from us right when we're getting used to their presence.
[his lower lip momentarily tucks between his teeth, he wrinkles his nose then exhales a sigh.] I had someone like that on Noctium. [a pause, his expression softening faintly.] Someone that I didn't need to be manipulated into being with. It was like we were soulmates.
[soren knows of sizhui's loss here in amani, but he's quite sure he hasn't heard of this someone he had been connected to in noctium. it sounds as though they were someone who could be relied upon to earn stamps with. someone the overseer could have summoned for her purposes.]
She frustrates me. Were they someone who you met in your new environment?
[they were and, as much as sizhui wishes the man could have come with him, he's also glad that he was able to go home rather than being dragged to another world where they are forced to interact with people intimately. nevertheless, it aches to talk about him, which is why sizhui's understanding where soren's coming from, probably better than a lot of the other people on amani.]
Me too. He was, someone I met on accident initially. We became close rather quickly, but that was easy because we came from similar times.
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deferences) wrote2022-08-22 02:35 pm
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he's still motionless, too. letting soren squirm and writhe and groan as he tries freeing himself, though to no avail. after soren's stopped fighting, he will try rolling him over again then he'll get into fucking him senseless.]
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he's so fucked.]
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oh, the irony there is so, so sweet.
sizhui finally takes advantage, moving both hands to soren's knees, gripping underneath them and rolling the rest of the way over, effectively pinning soren on his back. he props their foreheads together, still grinning like an absolute shit, his hips drawing back then thrusting forward none-too-gently. once, twice, and a third time, slowly but surely picking up speed the more he goes.]
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this isn't like yakumo at all. well, there's the emptiness that threatens to enfold him once they're over, but this is sizhui. a year and more of this man, their limbs arranged in myriad ways to ends just like this one, the distinction of being before ike's reappearance, and now finally after. someone he's grown used to, the scent and the taste and the feel of him never causing harm but bringing him solace and relief, things he didn't know he wanted to cling to so badly. the force is a farce at the heart of it: he's letting him in, and oh, it feels like he's soaring beyond places his body can reach. his claws dig into his flesh and his limbs possess the rabbit monster as if he's the last scrap of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world that spins him around and spits him out at will.]
Suh... Sizhui...!
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it feels like this is what's helping soren the most, taking him to a height he's either not known and one he hasn't experienced many times before; soren has been vocal during their couplings, but he's never been so loud and forthright. sizhui wants to keep going, regardless of the burn of claws cutting him open and the scrape of limbs, he's pouring all his dedication into making certain soren comes first now. his own pleasure can wait, watching the dragon's face contort, his chest rise and fall, the way he squirms— he totally has his priorities in order here.]
I-I'm not going to stop until you come, Soren.
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You're m-making me... oh! Feel too good not to...!
[this is punctuated by a heavy contraction and slickness that pools flush against the instrument of his impending demise.]
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and it's so worth it in the end.
the sudden gush of fluid, that tightening around his cock, there's no mistaking it at that point, and a pleased little smirk lifts sizhui's lips at the edges. he hums with approval, shifts his hands to soren's thighs, grips with all his might then pumps into him a few more times, staccato and unsteady as he comes with a low, guttural-sounding grunt shortly thereafter.]
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worst of all, he's crying. the tears won't stop spilling and his throat won't untighten. his face feels hot and he can't even try to hide it from sizhui, so he shuts his eyes so he doesn't have to see him looking at him.]
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blinking through the remaining spots, sizhui casts a downward glance to soren, his eyebrows knitted, both hands releasing his legs so he can lift one and gently rest it against the dragon's face, the pad of his thumb swiping through the tear streaks.] Soren... hey, are you okay? [was it too much? had he hurt him? he's never seen him cry like that before, so it's a bit worrisome.]
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I'm fine...
[there is some truth embedded in the lie. realizing with deep shame the various conclusions that could be drawn of his unexpected reaction, sizhui must be fraught about being responsible for the outpour. he swallows thickly, maintaining the screen of his eyelids over his vision.]
It's just... a s-stupid... [he draws a shuddering breath as quietly as he can possibly make it.] It wasn't you. I'm not hurt. Leave me be...
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is this sub drop? he's heard of it before and he's experienced it once or twice himself, but he never knew what it was called until recently. his lips press together, his brow knits and he oh-so-slowly begins pulling back, reluctantly withdrawing from the sweet heat, although he doesn't pull away entirely. he keeps wiping away the tears, watching closely, trying to decide what he should do in this situation, even if he already knows what he should do.
mostly, he just wants soren to admit that he's not okay, which he nearly does, but not without a little bit of that usual soren attitude.] Soren... it's okay, you can tell me. [sizhui's other arm moves and encircles the smaller male's waist, holding him tight, his fingers gently moving down his cheek to his neck in a soft, soothing motion.]
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You're horrible at following instructions...
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And you're as stubborn as ever.
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Why do you need to know? I already told you, you have nothing to do with this!
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If something is bothering you, I want to know. Whatever it is, it's made you cry, which is not something I'm used to seeing from you.
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I hate everything. [he smolders with sobby vehemence.] Amani. My powerlessness, my losses. What Aefenglom has done to me...
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...I'm sorry. [because what else does he say?] Although I don't understand why you think you're powerless. [sure, they can't control when they leave these worlds, but that would make everything too easy, of course.]
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...It's ironic, considering how much more powerful I have become. But I am like a beast inside of an indestructible cage, unable to go where I need to, subjected to the forces that govern my prison. There is no power in an existence like this; you know this as much as I do. Moreover, my body becomes a slave to primal forces... like the one that led me to your bed in the first place.
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his head tilts with inquisitiveness, brows knitting together when soren mentions ‘an indestructible cage’, attention downcasting afterward, his eyes eventually sinking shut. yes, he knows all too well how hard it can be to resist such primal forces... but he has accepted it as something that cannot be changed and the sooner he did so, the easier it became to let himself give in. fortunately, he's found a couple of people on amani who don't mind helping him, which is quite helpful whenever one doesn't want to sleep around with more than a handful of individuals.] I understand now and I do know how it feels. It feels exactly like you said: like we have no power over it, but we are lucky to still have our autonomy.
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To a point, [he replies with a shake of his head.] When I can control myself, maybe. I can't even make the choice to follow Ike, wherever he went. That's all I really want to do. But no, I continue to be coerced and incentivized to play sex bingo instead, because it might just save a world I'd be content to let burn.
[without the people he's come to care for in it, of course. but let him be bitterly dramatic about it.]
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You have better self-control than you give yourself credit for. [another true thing, even though he's seen the way instincts have taken over soren's senses. maybe it's because he thinks he himself doesn't have nearly as good control over his own and, in his opinion, he believes he gives in far too easily, much like he'd done when soren climbed in through his window to have sex.
before he can say anything about the whole ike thing, the world burning comment catches his attention first and has his whole face scrunching like he's sucked a lemon. he shakes his head afterward, exhales a sigh then raises a hand to push damp hair off his shoulders.] There are people I wish I could follow too, but for whatever reason, we can't do that because the world won't let us leave with those we care about most.
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[it doesn't matter if sizhui thinks he has self-control. it doesn't change how it feels to lose it, how many times he has when sizhui wasn't looking.
but it's true that despite how convinced he is that no one can match the intensity with which he longs to be with ike, he's not the only one who would be better off with someone else.]
It would be more effective for the Overseer's little project if she would more properly select who stays and who goes. In my case, she can bank on my draconic hormones and the ways in which we can be manipulated... but my draw to him is more natural. It needs no manipulation.
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he huffs a wry laugh, brings his attention back to soren and,] That would make sense and it seems like the Overseer much prefers doing things that don't make sense. Unfortunately, that means taking people away from us right when we're getting used to their presence.
[his lower lip momentarily tucks between his teeth, he wrinkles his nose then exhales a sigh.] I had someone like that on Noctium. [a pause, his expression softening faintly.] Someone that I didn't need to be manipulated into being with. It was like we were soulmates.
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She frustrates me. Were they someone who you met in your new environment?
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Me too. He was, someone I met on accident initially. We became close rather quickly, but that was easy because we came from similar times.
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