Shipping picture prompts

[weebsock]

shipping picture prompts

o1. comment with your character and prefs in a top level. o2. reply to others, complete with pictures and gifs! o3. cook up something shippy from those inspirational ingredients.

link 'em: <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a> embed 'em: <img src=IMAGEURL> shrink 'em: <img src=IMAGEURL width=500> OR <img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

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[mumbles]

Words flying away to the edges of Shane's mind. Arching up under Ilya's hands and mouth, thighs flexing tight around his hips, under the grip of Ilya's hand. His mouth opens, gasps for breath. Distant awareness of the sounds he's making, but no ability to curb them.

Ilya asks a question and Shane's mind stutters over it.

A stray thought: He likes so much when Ilya calls him affectionate little names. He likes it, like he likes how easy they trade I love you back and forth. It had been impossible for such a long time, and now it is so simple.

"Please," falls out of Shane's mouth. "Please."

If Ilya touches him, Shane will come. Begs please like Ilya would stop again, ease them back off the ledge again. Keep Shane here for another round. It sounds terrible. It sounds perfect.

Begs, "Just fuck me. Please," without full certainty that Shane could come this way. Just that he wants—

He just wants. Endlessly. Desperately. Certain that Ilya is enough, always.

[faceov]

Even though he knows it's going to suck for Shane for a moment, Ilya pushes himself up. Gets his knees under him better so he can fuck into Shane harder, faster. He wants Shane to come, both because his sweetheart deserves it after what Ilya's put him through and because Ilya himself would really like to come sometime soon.

"You've been so good for me." He lets praise drip from his lips since he can't easily give kisses like this. "So perfect."

Really, there aren't good words for how much Ilya loves how Shane is for him when they play like this. How he lets Ilya take him places he'd never thought to go. Trusts him with his body and his pleasure. It gives Ilya a high like nothing else he's ever experienced and makes him feel like his heart grows a little every time.

He grins, still breathing hard, still steadily fucking Shane. "My good boy."

[mumbles]

A flex of hazy annoyance, fond, but the instinctive fuck off gets caught in Shane's throat.

Words flown away from him.

He asked for this. He asked and Ilya has given it to him. It's only that as soon as Ilya kneels up Shane wants him back, wants his mouth again. His dick is leaking all over his stomach. His mouth feels bruised. All his muscles burn from exertion. It is all so good.

And Ilya.

Ilya is so beautiful.

There is nothing else in the world but him.

Caught here, teetering in the very edge of his limits, Shane is helpless to do anything but look up into Ilya's face, say, "Please," once more, as all his muscles tremble with the effort of holding on. Holding onto the pillow, hands overhead. Holding on to his own release, feeling it slip every time Ilya thrusts back in to him.

"Ilya," jagged, wrecked. "Please."