So impatient, [Ignis mumbles and indulges Noct's wish for another finger. Although, by now, he's sure he stopped wanting fingers inside of him. But Ignis has always been careful, and that especially applies now; to counter Noct's impatience Ignis has armed himself with the restraint of a saint. Or so he thought- if he really could have restrained himself, perhaps he would never be with Noctis like this.
Three fingers push in deep, spurred on by the words that leave Noctis' mouth, his love asking for more and Ignis craving to give him everything he wants. Everything he can ever want. Properly stretched now, Ignis removes the fingers and his gloved hands take hold of Noct's hips, to pull him back a little.]
Deep breath, love, [is the only warning Noctis gets before Ignis slowly pushes in, properly coated in lube, but less gentle compared to the first time they did this.]
[Deep breaths. Those words ring within his mind, a warning that he knows he should heed. Should force himself to do instead of using that moment to whine, to mourn the loss of those beautiful fingers moving within him. But he doesn't even quite recall how to properly take in air. Not when his hips are being pulled back and he arches into the touch. Spreads his legs as wide as possible, hands twisting into the sheets and blankets below.
Not when he feels that first press against the tight ring of muscle, slipping back and inside his tight heat. And he's certain in that moment that even his heart stops beating. It's burns, an ache made worse by the soreness of his ass - but it feels so good. So worth it. Barely forces himself to take that deep breath, body going lax, loose and so incredibly ready.
It isn't like the first time. Isn't slow and gentle. Less like they're making love and more like fucking. But the duality of it suits them. Suits their love. Their trust. Ignis trust Noct to know his own limits. And Noctis trust Iggy to never give him more than that.]
Ignis. [Almost a sob, head turning until he can glance over his shoulder, messy, damp hair falling over his face and obscuring his vision.] Tell me I'm being good for you.
[Ignis doesn't make a pause until he feels himself being sheathed all the way inside of Noct. He groans lowly at the feeling of the muscles squeezing him so tightly, even after all the preparation. And Noct's needy, desparate voice is a piercing pleasure through him. He's not sure how he didn't come from that sight in front of him- his love's face messy and flushed and eyes just begging for him.
With a low moan, he leans over Noct's back, pressing a soft kiss between the shoulderblades, before aligning his mouth with Noct's ear.]
You're being perfect. Not good, but perfect, love, [Ignis murmurs in a deep voice, his hips pulling back and then thrusting back in, setting up a slow pace but with hard thrusts. One of Ignis' hands wraps around Noct's chest and the fingers find a nipple to tease, pinching it once in a while.]
You are wonderful... [and Ignis is addicted to him.]
[Those words are darkly beautiful, a symphony of praise that cuts through the haze of desire and pleasure. Has sharp pangs of electric heat running up the length of his spine. Until he's reduced to nothing more than a shivering, sobbing mess.
Every time Ignis calls him love it feels like his heart swells impossibly more. A stark contrast to the harsh way his fingers are working at his sensitive flesh. To the way he's thrusting into him, hard and slow and deep. Until he feels stretched beyond capacity, stuffed full and tight. Each movement pressing against his walls and making them tense and tighten, until that thick head is bumping against that hidden spot within him that has his head spinning. Has him crying out, silently begging for more.]
Iggy. Ignis. Please. You feel so good. Keep taking what's yours.
[And there goes his resolve to keep the pace slow and measured in case Noct is oversensitive and the pleasure hurts him instead of satisfying him. Noctis' words just keep shredding on Ignis' self-control and his hips snap forward into a sharp thrust. There's a deep groan that emits from his chest and Ignis' fingers curl into Noct's hair, tilting his head back as he leans down to run his teeth over his skin, leaving the skin littered with bites and teeth marks.
He shouldn't be losing control like this, he should know better than to just give into Noct's spurring and teasing. But he can't help it- he's squeezing him so tightly and those words are like heated blades cutting through him; his pace drastically changes- from slow and measured to fast and always aiming to hit that spot.]
Fuck. [One single syllable that releases on a broken sob, tears leaking from crystal blue eyes, slipping down to stain cheeks already colored deep crimson from heat and pleasure. Everything feels like it's being drawn impossibly tight, body arching up like a bow preparing to fire. Muscles tightening, quivering as he's filled and left empty. Shuddering as that spot hidden so deep within him is found and the pressure is so intense he can barely even breathe.
Fingers curl into his hair and force him back, head tilting into the pull, crying out as sharp teeth dig into his flesh and he wants to break for them to break the skin. To wound so deep that it will scar and he'll be left with the mark forever. But he's forgotten how to actually speak. All that comes out is soft whimpers, pleas for Ignis to keep going. For him to please not stop. Please, please, please.]
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Three fingers push in deep, spurred on by the words that leave Noctis' mouth, his love asking for more and Ignis craving to give him everything he wants. Everything he can ever want. Properly stretched now, Ignis removes the fingers and his gloved hands take hold of Noct's hips, to pull him back a little.]
Deep breath, love, [is the only warning Noctis gets before Ignis slowly pushes in, properly coated in lube, but less gentle compared to the first time they did this.]
no subject
Not when he feels that first press against the tight ring of muscle, slipping back and inside his tight heat. And he's certain in that moment that even his heart stops beating. It's burns, an ache made worse by the soreness of his ass - but it feels so good. So worth it. Barely forces himself to take that deep breath, body going lax, loose and so incredibly ready.
It isn't like the first time. Isn't slow and gentle. Less like they're making love and more like fucking. But the duality of it suits them. Suits their love. Their trust. Ignis trust Noct to know his own limits. And Noctis trust Iggy to never give him more than that.]
Ignis. [Almost a sob, head turning until he can glance over his shoulder, messy, damp hair falling over his face and obscuring his vision.] Tell me I'm being good for you.
no subject
With a low moan, he leans over Noct's back, pressing a soft kiss between the shoulderblades, before aligning his mouth with Noct's ear.]
You're being perfect. Not good, but perfect, love, [Ignis murmurs in a deep voice, his hips pulling back and then thrusting back in, setting up a slow pace but with hard thrusts. One of Ignis' hands wraps around Noct's chest and the fingers find a nipple to tease, pinching it once in a while.]
You are wonderful... [and Ignis is addicted to him.]
no subject
Every time Ignis calls him love it feels like his heart swells impossibly more. A stark contrast to the harsh way his fingers are working at his sensitive flesh. To the way he's thrusting into him, hard and slow and deep. Until he feels stretched beyond capacity, stuffed full and tight. Each movement pressing against his walls and making them tense and tighten, until that thick head is bumping against that hidden spot within him that has his head spinning. Has him crying out, silently begging for more.]
Iggy. Ignis. Please. You feel so good. Keep taking what's yours.
no subject
He shouldn't be losing control like this, he should know better than to just give into Noct's spurring and teasing. But he can't help it- he's squeezing him so tightly and those words are like heated blades cutting through him; his pace drastically changes- from slow and measured to fast and always aiming to hit that spot.]
no subject
Fingers curl into his hair and force him back, head tilting into the pull, crying out as sharp teeth dig into his flesh and he wants to break for them to break the skin. To wound so deep that it will scar and he'll be left with the mark forever. But he's forgotten how to actually speak. All that comes out is soft whimpers, pleas for Ignis to keep going. For him to please not stop. Please, please, please.]