bitches still lovve them some snoww

[mukufufu]

[Continued!


[as Ishida pushes in, Mukuro lets out a soft half-moan, half-sigh of pleasure, fingers knotting in the blankets under his hands. unable to stay still under such a sudden onslaught in sensation, he wriggles, then writhes, thighs working to keep him hitched up at the best angle for Ishida even as he dips his head to nuzzle against the sheets that smell- ever so faintly- of Ishida himself.]

Ah- mm, oh. Suddenly I'm not the one in a rush after all, am I!

Comments

[sequincy]

Only... ah... because I'm merciful...

[and this certainly feels like some sort of merciful, heavenly grace - mukuro wrapped around him so tight and warm and their bodies pressed together like they're trying to meld into person. His hands roam everywhere - along Mukuro's thighs, under his dress, along his back. He can't keep them still.]

[mukufufu]

[Mukuro is more than willing to be subject to Ishida's wandering hands, soft in odd places and hard in odder ones. sewing doesn't build callouses, he knows, but wielding a bow does; Mukuro's never met another man with hands like Ishida's.

internally he knows it's not just the shape of those hands, but the gentle intentions behind them, but that's the sort of thing to contemplate in the afterglow, not when he's gripping at the sheets and trying to rock his hips back into Ishida more firmly.] It doesn't feel... too merciful... from where I am!

[he wants more, and the tight, eager flex of his body around Ishida will say that more clearly than the man himself ever would.]

[sequincy]

I was being too slow before... now I'm... too harsh... [smiling to himself and then smiling down at Mukuro, an expression full of fondness that he hides in the illusionist's glossy black hair.

Everything is tight and warm and close. Perfect. How it's meant to feel. He manages a steady rhythm, deep and lingering]

[mukufufu]

I have a right to keep you- ah! on your toes, don't I?

[he doesn't look too interested in actually complaining, though. Mukuro breathes in hot, gasping little puffs of air, body shuddering and arching against Ishida's. He's desperate for more though he knows more will completely overwhelm him- hell, even this runs the risk of it. Uryuu isn't just pushing all his buttons, he's decided to throw Mukuro down on their control panel and make sweet love to him on top of them all. It's horrible and glorious in one maddening go.]

Oh, oh god- Uryuu-!

[sequincy]

[the sounds are doing so much for him. He doesn't have to see Mukuro's face to know when something hits him just right, or when a quick thrust surprises him. He can read the way the muscles of his back bunch and his breathing goes tight, and hear it in the soft, sweet sounds he makes, like eager mewling. He slides his hands up Mukuro's thighs, pulling the dress up out of the way so he can grope the cute little ass in front of him.]