morninglark: (35)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-05 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
Mm?

[Feigning surprise at the sight of himself when the human brings his erection to attention - eyes angled down, head tilted, even as he casually combs his fingers through his hair half-tangled from Mignon’s rather rough treatment. The pleasant drumming of blood still beats through him, has him shifting a little on the bed, the movement smacking the length of his cock against his thigh before he shrugs]

Did you not get what you wanted? [Spoken frankly while he draws his gaze back at the other. The corners of his mouth nearly twitch in amusement at seeing Mignon needing to take in a few steadying breaths, but that same amusement ebbs as he finally drops his arms, resting his weight through them and into the mattress] You had your pleasure, and I have my energy.

[As if to imply that Mignon’s uncertainty at leaving the fae unsatisfied is unnecessary. The exchange was successful; in the event Oberon needs to top off his pleasure, he can always do that on his own time, but to have the human do it for him…

Well. He can’t say it’s a good idea, actually. Initially, he would not have minded the attention, but there are some setbacks that insist he be wary.

Especially not when he can all too easily imagine the other man bearing down on him, eager to see how many octaves he can wring from Oberon if he pins him to the bed. Their romp had made one thing certain: that Oberon might’ve… underestimated the human by thinking him too soft to be a predator. Only that heart is soft, not those instincts or that cock. The only reason Mignon didn’t devour him was Oberon beat him to the punch.

Unbidden, he feels his groin clench a bit at the prospect, the hickey on his neck itching with a phantom pair of lips and teeth, nearly setting a frown on his features — unwilling to entertain all of that nonsense. He clears his throat, rubs at the bruised skin.]


Besides, I bet you’re tired, aren’t you? Did I forget to mention you’re literally handing over your energy to me? It’ll automatically replenish come the morning, but I do tend to go overboard when I’m low on resources…
morninglark: (32)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-07 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
[The sudden manhandling stiffens his spine, would likely end in a curse aimed upon Mignon’s soul if not for the abruptness of that kiss. The hand to his back keeps the fae steady, nearly caught in the man’s lap, and slowly, like fingers unknotting a tense muscle, the rhythmic play of the human’s tongue against his own lowers his guard until he leans into the other, pliant. He sighs against that mouth, frown faint when Mignon pulls back and scolds him.]

You met me not an hour ago.

[Stubbornly pouting as well, his tone ringing with the honest vexation of one who can’t understand why the human has decided he’ll move heaven and hell to be of use to him. Only the fact that he’s settled with his knees ground on either side of one of Mignon’s legs is the proof that he isn’t angry. Rather, another sigh builds into his lungs before he exhales, resting his fingers on the broad expanse of shoulder now in front of him.]

Fine… [Murmuring it underneath his voice until it gathers strength, the heat in his neck gaining color that crawls near to his cheeks. He’s fled back to his crassness, the same hissing feline that Mignon had discovered in the alleyway.] Fine, brat. Have it your way. Throw me upon the bed and have your way with me, I won’t complain.

But when you’ve a migraine in the morning because you gave up half your energy, you best not look to me for sympathy.
morninglark: (55)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-07 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
[— Back colliding with the mattress again, wings caught at an awkward angle, the open surprise wipes some of that scowl off his face before he can think to hide his expression. It grants Mignon ample time to lean over and plant a smug kiss on his mouth before Oberon can so much as begin to cuss him out. First off, “love” might not be apart of any fairy’s vocabulary, not in the purest sense of the word, but “unhealthy obsession” has been the downfall of every spirit and fae he’s ever known. There’s a reason why the fae allow themselves to be summoned, used, often times discarded before they can enact true hell on the world.

… And, he laments, the same is true for him as well. It’s why Mignon’s antics earn only a frown even as the fae relaxes back, cocking his head to the side when a trail of kisses stoke his blood — and then, a hitched breath when a warm mouth envelopes him, twisting his heart into knots inside his chest.]


You— [Stopping. Starting. His hips roll unevenly as his voice stutters, realizing a moment too late that his thighs are trapped by the human’s grip, shamelessly spread wide and allowing Mignon’s head ample space to bob up and down the length of him. The wet pleasure of that mouth and tongue sticks pins and needles into Oberon’s belly until he throws his head backwards, the ceiling dissolving into a wash of colors as he feels a whine work up his throat. Hips trembling, thighs tensing near Mignon’s ears with barely restrained need—

Don’t thrust. Don’t thrust yet, god knows the brat deserves it, but—]


Cute”, is it? I’ll— [Gripping his fingers into the sheets when that filthy mouth caresses the head of his cock again in worship.] —I’ll be remembering that. [Forcing out a promise of unholy retribution; knowing that it perhaps loses some of its bite once he’s forced to suck in another shuddering breath.]
morninglark: (123)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-07 09:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[It isn’t the smooth, seamless pleasure of a seasoned lover. As expected, the human has probably never taken anyone to bed before now. Mignon’s eagerness bumps his teeth into Oberon’s cock, the shot of adrenaline flying down the fae’s spine until he arches his back off the mattress, hissing, an unbidden hand tangling in the human’s hair.]

Mignon

[A reprimand that loses its heat immediately when Oberon doesn’t do anything more besides groan and flex his hips again, mindlessly on the hunt to capture that sensation a second time. Annoying. He’d rather not advertise that he isn’t against a bit of pain to accompany his pleasure, there’s a reason that Mignon sinking his teeth into his neck had warranted such a reaction —

But then their eyes catch, Mignon’s bobbing head and slick mouth transfixing the fae in place as a pinprick of heat blossoms over his skin. He’s being watched, studied - the underside of his cock tongued and massaged like Mignon means to make him squirm. It’s working, too, when the sensitive skin underneath the head of his cock is tongued, and his thighs give another involuntary flex by the human’s ears.]


Come now, be a bit more gentle…

[Smoothing the pads of his fingers against Mignon’s scalp into a lover’s caress, polite enough to avoid the nails. Talking to talk, to take his mind off the mounting tightness that hollows out his stomach each time the human sucks him down to the hilt and makes his balls tighten in anticipation. It’s a matter of pride, now, a refusal to yield if they’re both going to fight in this ring; he doesn’t feel like coming one minute into a novice’s blowjob.]
morninglark: (262)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-08 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
[Frowning darkly from underneath the shadow of his lashes when the human straight-up denies his request. Never mind it hadn’t been an honest plea for mercy, that part doesn’t matter — it’s still a rare day that Oberon finds anyone willing to challenge him. The fingers in that damp hair curl in warning, nails to the scalp, a reminder that he only bothers with being beautiful and pliant when not angered. The human best not test his luck too much.

— And then the bastard does it anyway, sinking his teeth into Oberon’s thigh and rudely trapping his balls against those roughened fingers. No, he doesn’t hiss, or cry out, or even moan, that’d practically be conceding the win to Mignon. But his fingers tighten again in the human’s hair, the fae’s breath catching somewhere between his throat and nose. He dare not exhale, not when the precome is already dribbling a steady, thin river down the length of him, at least until the eventual need to breathe wins out, and—]


A-ah—

[He abandons one of his rules — to not break eye contact — switching instead self-preservation of his pride, eyes screwing shut and his head twisted away. He can at least keep any further noises locked behind his clenched teeth, all while the stray hand not tangled in Mignon’s hair paws uselessly at the sheets. Teeth scrape against the soft, pliant skin of his cock and his hips buck in response; another loss. They’re mounting as fast as the tide. Breath hurried:]

Get up here.

[— Mignon’s hard again, isn’t he? Oberon doesn’t need to see the proof to know. Meaning that cock needs seeing to, and the fae knows how best to ensure both of them end this night on a satisfying note.

That it allows him to skirt his own loss is besides the point, surely. Tugging at the white tuffs of hair before his fingers glide along the side of that cheek still nestled against his groin, eyes opening again, drawing his tongue over his lips in anticipation while he purposefully coons]


Come now, I don’t want to come alone. And there’s one other way you can offer your energy to me.
morninglark: (17)

bless Mignon for his horny math

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-08 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
Any exchange of fluids usually does the trick.

[It’s a small mercy when Mignon abandons his attentions, leaving Oberon’s cock to cool against his abdomen while the much larger man slinks over him, looming overhead like a mountain. The fae can breathe again, gather up his bearings instead of turning into a besotted mess. Those love marks against his thighs still blister in his mind, as if to whine that Mignon wasn’t feral enough to draw blood, but enough of that — without preamble, there’s a finger covered in precome circling below his erection, and he sighs in preparation, forcing those muscles to relax.

Despite the urge to mess with the human a little, insist he might as well see how far he can press his cock into the fae’s body before one of them explodes, they’re in agreement for once: might be best to prep the fae, first. A glance between their sweat-slicked bodies and Oberon can see the monster twitching with greed, dribbling, heavy with the promise of bottoming out into the fae’s stomach if Mignon isn’t careful.

So of course with an idle, evil hand, he reaches down, smearing that slick head with his thumb and forefinger, massaging the slit then trailing down — all while swallowing a soft, pleased sigh when Mignon’s fingers press deep past the knuckle. It burns the tight circle of muscle to be forced open, loosened, even when lubed by the human’s spittle and the fae’s precome, but Oberon’s answer to that is to flex his hips and take more of the finger, a silent encouragement that Mignon need not be so gentle about this, either.

It’s his lucky night; his partner won’t mind if the virgin loses all sense of decorum and turns a little rowdy]


Mm, if you recall… [Pausing a second to pant, his expression nearly breaking into a moan before he holds it back] My mouth was small too, and I say that worked out.
morninglark: (48)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-06-14 07:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ah, the overly sensitive body of an eager virgin…

Oberon doesn’t bother to swallow back neither a snicker nor a smirk when Mignon’s concentration buckles and those hips swivel forward with interest, pressing the human’s cock between his fingers. It’s — dare he think it — almost cute, in the way a canine unable to help but bound into your lap inspires equal irritation and amusement before you shove it back to the ground.

He can afford to be kind, then — or, perhaps, cruelly sadistic — with his response offering a more thorough handling, fingers creeping ‘round to cup and stroke at the wet, twitching erection that juts against his stomach, the tip of it accidentally caressing the side of the fae’s own cock and smearing another dribble of precome over them both. Coupled with Mignon’s fingers flexing and stretching on their quest, and a second later, Oberon’s breath hiccups, his back bowing slight, feet digging into the mattress as pleasure hits behind his eyelides.

Fine, alright. Maybe the bastard found his prostate, and yes, maybe it felt good. He bites the inside of his cheek, drawing blood to draw his focus, then pumps his hips up and down on those fingers until the friction sets another heated glow to his damp skin — all the while stroking Mignon and himself in slow, slick movements]


What, afraid you’ll— [hissing again. Even teasing is turning into its own olympic sport] — you’ll try and break me in half?

[If he lost all semblance of self, held the fae’s hips in place, and began to drill into him with abandon, then perhaps… Oberon’s eyes certainly flick down between their bodies at the thought, measuring the girth and length that will soon be trying to find a home inside him, and automatic, his muscles coil with anticipation over Mignon’s fingers. His own hips pump again, and there is no avoiding the soft moan this time.]
morninglark: DNT ANY ICONS (Default)

[personal profile] morninglark 2025-07-12 01:04 am (UTC)(link)
[It’s a tight fit; the way his muscles are forced open by the head of Mignon’s cock, straining and gripping around the intruder like hot velvet, floods the fae’s senses until pinpricks of heat gather behind his eyes and underneath his skin. Held in place by the fingers gouged into his hips, the soles of his feet dig helplessly into the sheets as he’s filled. The human’s lust-struck, unrelenting lack of mercy as he fucks him would make Oberon bark in laughter any other time, but the only sounds that bubble from his throat are a series of weak hisses, nearly followed by a strangled cry when Mignon buries to the hilt.]

— Will you? [Somehow able to find a retort that isn’t swallowed by the rhythmic weight of Mignon gathering speed, hips slapped together as he drives Oberon into the mattress] And here I could have sworn we only have a week together.

[His mouth fixes into a purr, eyes heavy and half-mast, purposefully spreading his legs wide that extra inch so that the space between their bodies turns into a smear of heat when Mignon grinds down. The bastard’s cock is so large he needn’t even aim for Oberon’s prostate; the bundle of nerves are thoroughly seared each time they’re grazed, pulsating with pleasure that has him leaking.

With the time for acting coy now behind him, Oberon arches his back and tips his head to the side against the wrinkled sheets, whining and shuddering under the human’s shadow, one of his legs now finding purchase on the jut of Mignon’s straining hips — encouraging him to give in, fuck him faster. Take his prize and his pleasure. Make the most of this night while he has the fae bound to his promises.]


Don’t stop. [Breath seizing in his chest. Body continuously swallowing Mignon’s cock whole. He reaches up, fingers finding a home in Mignon’s snowy hair to drag him down, their bodies slick against each other, a whispered threat caressing the shelf of the human’s ear.] I will kill you if you stop. Please me, like you said you would.