I need you like god needs the devil, honey
The cry that tears out of Mateo is everything Vesper has been coaxing from him—feral, wordless, utterly undone. He doesn’t need the sound, though gods does he savour it. What really wrecks him is the scream of it in Mateo’s mind: Vesper’s name, scorched across every thought, red-hot and clawing like fire behind his eyes. It slams into Vesper like a wave of heat, shuddering through him as he thrusts in deep, one final time, riding the aftershocks of Mateo’s orgasm with his breath catching ragged in his throat.
"Fuck, that’s it," he growls, low and rough, his fingers bruising against Mateo’s hips as he drags him back one last time. His orgasm slams through him, sharp and overwhelming, spurred on by the electric rush of Mateo’s release still echoing in his mind. For a breathless, burning moment, all Vesper can do is hold on—his grip hard on the botanist’s hips, his shadows curling possessively around him like they might anchor him through the onslaught.
When it finally ebbs, leaving him shaking and breathless in its wake, Vesper slumps forward, his forehead resting between Mateo’s shoulders. For a moment, the only sound is their breathing—uneven, gasping, too full of static to pass for calm. Slowly, his grip eases, fingers stroking now instead of holding tight.
"...Definitely not just good," he murmurs at last, voice husky with satisfaction, lips brushing the sweat-slick curve of Mateo’s spine.
"Fuck, that’s it," he growls, low and rough, his fingers bruising against Mateo’s hips as he drags him back one last time. His orgasm slams through him, sharp and overwhelming, spurred on by the electric rush of Mateo’s release still echoing in his mind. For a breathless, burning moment, all Vesper can do is hold on—his grip hard on the botanist’s hips, his shadows curling possessively around him like they might anchor him through the onslaught.
When it finally ebbs, leaving him shaking and breathless in its wake, Vesper slumps forward, his forehead resting between Mateo’s shoulders. For a moment, the only sound is their breathing—uneven, gasping, too full of static to pass for calm. Slowly, his grip eases, fingers stroking now instead of holding tight.
"...Definitely not just good," he murmurs at last, voice husky with satisfaction, lips brushing the sweat-slick curve of Mateo’s spine.
someday soon this dust's gonna settle
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
