proscribed: <user name=footlights> (64)
Credence ([personal profile] proscribed) wrote in [personal profile] mund 2017-03-19 04:49 pm (UTC)

[Pain flickers across his face, disbelief and confusion, but he can't look away, doesn't break eye contact. Nobody has ever 'wanted' him before, not like this. If they had, surely he would have known. His lip trembles and he's overwhelmed by the mere thought of his husband wanting to be with him. He'd hoped, more than anything, that his husband would at least use him and then leave him alone. That he could just live here, in peace, even if his Ma told tales of horror that had kept him up at night.

This, though, this reality is more overwhelming. His husband is attracted to him, his body is responding to Credence's, and he doesn't want to use and toss him aside.]


Oh-h.

[Soft sounds, a mix of surprised moans and aborted whining noises, slip through his lips, head falling back as Graves' hand circles their cocks, lining them up and giving him friction. Credence has never felt anything like that, wraps his legs tightly around his husband's waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

Credence doesn't know how to move his body the way his husband does, rolling his hips in fluid and arousing patterns, so he doesn't try. His hands find their way to his shoulders, nails biting, back arching up to get more, to feel more. He tries to do as he's told, he wants to be good, drags a hand down Graves' back.]
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