enoderedrum | Inbox

NETWORK USERNAME:
ripraven

CURRENT HOUSING:

Currently living both in his designated housing, but also Adams House (pretty much in Kavinsky's bed nightly).

SCARS / MARKINGS:
ENVY - Cut into his left forearm (via Blue)
SUFFER - Carving into his calf via himself.
WRIST SCARS (successful suicide) + Thigh SCAR.
WRIST TATTOO - Paw on his right wrist (via Kavinsky)
THROAT TATTOO - A raven with its wings spread on either side of his neck,
the face is a skull of the raven instead, and the background is filled with blue, purple and hints of red watercolor splashes. (Tattoo shop on Mammons Island.)
RIBCAGE TATTOO - An arrow for Clint and an hourglass for Nat.
STITCH SCARS AROUND MOUTH + slightly damaged vocal cords - Thanks to The Veiled Order capture.
MERMAN Features; white hands with claws and subtle webbing that's retractable, iridescent scales over his hands and in random spots.

DEMON ATTRIBUTES:

Demon Teeth.
The beginning of Pointy Ears (not pictures because right now they're just itchy and growing).
[These are based off Hellburbia Suicide].
Slowly his hands are turning White and his nails are turning into claws (basically)

RICHARD JOSEPH LYNCH
aka
little grey dragon he adopted from Mammons Island.

N A V I G A T I O N: kinks & permissions | visuals | funeral | bdsm info | cr chart
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

favoriteforgery

Proko moans under the kiss and nearly bites Noah's tongue before he pulls away. He lays back, flushed and quietly breathless.

"We can stop if you want," he offers. Prokopenko definitely doesn't care, but if Noah wants to save some of the mystery or something for the party, he gets it.

He swallows thickly as Noah pushes between his legs. Even as fingers tease up his thigh, Illya keeps his eyes on Noah's.

"Just don't call me a girl," he says quietly. "I'd hate to have to fuck you up."

From:

enoderedrum

Noah was not about to stop. He had no intention to stop and he wouldn’t unless Illya really wanted him to.

Briefly his brows furrow and he looks over the others face before settling on top of him so that they were flush against one another; the contact was needed, skin to skin, and he shook his head, “You’re not a girl and I don’t see you as one.” He absently tugged Illyas hair, a pointed tug, a little less gentle than before, “Anything else?”

From:

favoriteforgery

Illya's eyes nearly close as Noah pushes up against him. He's almost embarrassed about how turned on he is and his face gets hot when he thinks of Noah feeling how wet he is where he's pressed close.

"No," he breathes. "Everything else is uhm. On the table."

From:

enoderedrum

Normally that many questions wouldn’t be that important but this case was different and he didn’t want to send Illya running for the hills just because he wasn’t aware of the yes’s or no’s.

Illyas face is hot and Noah smirks softly, watching his face from the short distance they’re apart, “Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when your embarrassed?”

With a chuckle he pushed himself up and sat back on his ankles, running his hands along the others body; tracing his ribs, hips, the outside of his thighs and then shifting further down as he spread a mixture of gentle kisses and biting over over his low belly.

From:

favoriteforgery

"Oh fuck you," he groans when Noah calls him cute. There's no venom in it, though, and Illya watches as Noah pulls back. His body is fairly boyish: the dip of his waist negligible, the rise of his breasts small. But he's built well - a dancer, once upon a time - and as Noah's hands slide down, his thighs press against his sides.

He wets his lips and pushes up onto his elbows as Noah's mouth moves lower, kissing and biting his way down. On the outside of one thigh, right near his hip, is a dog paw tattoo.

From:

enoderedrum

“Please do,” The jut of a hipbone catches his attention and he rolls his tongue over it, nipping, not biting, not yet.

The tattoo makes him tip his head to get a better look, “K?” He asks curiously, but it made sense. Either way, he busies himself moving on to even softer skin. The scent of him touches the most primal parts of his brain, and he litters inside of that same thigh with kisses, pausing at the apex to finally bite him; teeth clamp down and he sucks a matching mark into the others pale skin with a low pleased noise.

From:

favoriteforgery

"His pack of wild dogs," he says as Noah takes notice of the tattoo. "We all have one."

Illya watches with bated breath as Noah moves lower, teasing the inside of his thigh. When he finally bites, Proko yelps. But rather than pulling away, he pushes a hand into Noah's hair to keep him right where he is. "Oh holy shit," he whines, knees tight against Noah's shoulders as the other boy sucks a bruise onto his thigh.

"Oh shit." He moves his hips, squirms but makes no attempt to pull away.

From:

enoderedrum

The idea of the tattoo is something Noah likes; like a physical reminder you belong somewhere. Even if it does sort of imply ownership, too.

When he releases him, he hums and curls his fingers around the outside of his thighs to hold them apart without pulling away from the hand fisted in his own hair, the tug sends a hot tremor down his back, pooling in his core and he licks his lips to gather himself.

"I like it," he breathes, breath ghosting hot over the others heat, a contrast to the coolness of his fingertips that he hadn't even noticed yet. His tongue snaked out and rolled slowly over the wetness pooling between Illya's legs and holy shit...he tasted so good.

From:

favoriteforgery

His thighs are trembling by the time Noah's tongue finally teases over him. Prokopenko drops back to the bed with a moan and he tries, makes a very solid attempt, not to drag Noah's head closer but fuck.

Illya can't help the way his hips lift, chasing the pressure and slick slide of Noah's tongue. "Oh my God," he sighs as he drops his head back. Without thinking, he slides a leg over one of Noah's shoulders.

From:

enoderedrum

Absently, he runs his hand along the length of the leg thats slipped over his shoulder and pressed the opposite leg further apart so that he stays open.

Those sounds Illya make are something he knows he's going to want more of. They make his nerves light in ways he hadn't expected or remembered ever feeling despite his past experiences (which would have been a whole hell of a lot more if it hadn't been for Whelks stupidity.) Noah lets Illya's hip rock, and delves his tongue inside of him, twisting with every inward thrust of it.

One hand frees itself from the grip he has on the others thigh and his middle fingers slips inside curling upward, tugging lightly against the arch inside, at the same time his tongue slowly licks up along his clit. Now would probably be the moment Illya notes that his finger is probably a touch colder than it should be.

From:

favoriteforgery

His free hand slides over the bed, gripping the sheets to avoid clawing too much at Noah. But he doesn't stop moving: he chases every slide and thrust of Noah's tongue, whimpers and moans when it moves just right. His hand goes tight in Noah's hair, dragging him in when the pressure is just right.

Illya gasps sharply as a cool finger slips into him and his hips jump. He mutters something that's definitely not in English and his toes curl as Noah's tongue slides over his clit. "Oh, fuck," he whines. "Gimme another one. Please. Please."

From:

enoderedrum

The clawing would actually be welcome; he wasn't opposed to pain it seemed. Noah growls softly as his hair is tugged again, pressing into it, but he obeys because fucking hell how could someone be this hot?

The wet underside of his tongue flicks back and forth over his clit again, and again as he sink another finger inside of him, rocking them both as he smooths his free hand back up Illya's side; scratching, pulling at his hip.

From:

favoriteforgery

"Fuck--fuck--"

He goes tight around Noah's fingers once they're both deep, like he wants to keep them there, but he's too fucking wet for that tension to matter too much just then. Illya gives up on any attempt at holding back: his hips moving in a steady, seeking rhythm, chasing the flick of Noah's tongue and the slide of his fingers. He fucks himself on whatever Noah gives him and he breathlessly moans for more.

Proko arches his back as nails drag down his side, over his hip. He's fucking throbbing, aching.

"Noah--" His voice catches on a moan and his thighs tense.

From:

enoderedrum

Everything just felt hungry; his eyes, his mouth, his fingertips. With every roll of Illya's hips the pressure of his tongue changed from soft flickers to sucking his clit into his mouth and rubbing against it, drawing the tip of his tongue around and finding the most sensitive spot while his fingers worked quicker, curling and pressing the tips against places he remembered were sensitive.

As it was, Illya was dripping down into his palm and the wet squelching sounds his body made weren't helping his own problem in the slightest. The subtle friction against the sheets only did so much but he could be patient. Maybe.

Watching Illya was worth waiting.

From:

favoriteforgery

Prokopenko's mouth hangs open an all he can do is pant and moan and meet every thrust of Noah's fingers. Curses drop from his lips in at least two different languages and his voice rises sharply.

He feels it start in his belly. His fingers flex and relax almost beyond his control as he tries to ride Noah's fingers and tongue. Proko tries to voice some kind of warning but it dies in his throat, smothered by another desperate sound. His hips lose their rhythm and Illya curls forward, pushed up onto his elbow as his orgasm hits him. He goes tight around Noah's fingers and his entire body trembles as he hits that peak.

Illya realizes, vaguely, that he probably shouldn't smother Noah against his cunt.

When the last wave passes, he drops back onto the bed, panting and dazed. Finally, finally, his hands and legs go loose.

From:

enoderedrum

It would be a much more pleasurable way to die, actually, compared to last time. He really didn't mind.

Noah's brain sort of halted, so engrossed in every part of that; the way his fingers were squeezed so tightly that the tips curled and pressed harder against the spongy nook inside, the wet heat pooled in his palm, the mess smeared over his chin and the multilingual curses--what the hell were thoughts?

Illya relaxed and Noah licked him completely again with the full flat of his tongue before sitting up and letting that top leg fall from his shoulder. He sat back a little on his ankles again and licked his palm clean, looking a little more satisfied than he should considering he hadn't received anything yet.

"Well," he murmured and leaned over the others body, peering down over his face and stealing a lazy kiss, "I think I like having this problem."

From:

favoriteforgery

All he can do is lay there as Noah frees himself. When they kiss again, Illya moans when he tastes himself on Noah's tongue. Fuck. He pushes his fingers through Noah's hair like an apology for all the pulling. Then his blunt nails scrape the back of his neck.

"Not the worst one, huh?" He huffs a laugh and he reaches down to try and grab Noah's thigh, wanting him closer. "Gonna stick it in or not? I wanna fee you."

From:

enoderedrum

"I would have wanted you to be my problem even without the sex," Noah admitted and nipped the others upper lip teasingly before shifting his hips enough to grind himself against the others slick heat. He was still so wet that his mouth watered and his cock ached in his hand before he guided himself against him and slipped easily inside.

Feeling slick muscle give way made starting this in fucking theatre seats worth it. Wanting to take his time and actually taking the time to enjoy that sensation were two entirely different things, it seemed, and while the first bit was slow, the last bit was shoved inside harder until he couldn't go any further.

Licking his lips, still with the taste of Illya on them, Noah idly swiveled his hips just to enjoy the warmth (warmth was non-existent before so he was damn well going to cherish this sort of thing). Blue met green and he swallowed a low growling groan then caught Illya's mouth again, hungry, starved all over again until the connection was remade; hips rolling shallowly at first before finding a languid motion, the pace somewhere between desperate and 'I could really like you...'.

From:

favoriteforgery

His mouth falls open and Illya lifts his hips as Noah pushes in. His voice hiccups, catching in his throat as the slow slide turns into a quick thrust. "Oh, fuck yes."

The way Noah moves his hips, not pulling back but just grinding against him, makes Illya shiver in all the best ways. He reaches down, hands grabbing at Noah's hip and his thigh, wherever he can reach, as he tries to push up to keep their bodies tight together. The minuscule friction feels good.

Their mouths meet again and all he can do is kiss back, trying to keep up with the way Noah tries to devour him. His legs tense against Noah's hips when he finally starts moving in slow, shallow thrusts before building up to something more intense. Proko breaks the kiss, dropping his head back to breathe as Noah finds his rhythm.

From:

enoderedrum

The face that they are practically a mirrored set makes reaching everything that much easier. Later, Noah might find himself amused by that and wonder if it carries a layer of narcissism but he can't even think straight. He wasn't the loosest Raven in the bunch but after seven years of nothing, and two living with Fucking Ronan who never seemed to be able to find a shirt in his closet--there was so much pent up want.

The way Illya was pawing at him, the strength in his thighs against his waist; Noah leaned over and licked a stripe up the others throat and gently bit the sharp edge of his jaw, sucking a smaller mark just below it. One hand kept him braced, the other slipped between them again and slicked his fingertips again to rub over the others clit in alternate time with his thrusts, and then he finally let go to press a lighter kiss to the new mark.

From:

favoriteforgery

His hands drag up Noah's back to push into his hair, holding tight as lips and teeth tease and scrape his throat. He's going to have bruises and he wants them. Noah was here.

Illya's voice rises sharply and his entire body goes tight for a breath as Noah pushes a hand between them to rub at his clit. "Oh holy shit," he whines and tries to hide his face against Noah's shoulder. His cussing comes out like a mantra, edged with moans and sighs as he's assaulted from all angles. Without thinking, he shoves Noah's head down toward his chest, insisting and encouraging as that sweet, terrible tension starts coiling up in him again.

"You better not pull out," he gasps, voice rough with need.

From:

enoderedrum

That mantra strokes the lizard part of his brain that wants to claim, take, keep, please, mine. All things he knows on some level he can't, but fuck if he doesn't want to.

The shove answers the last question he hadn't bothered to ask. Noah's mouth drops more nipping kisses along Illya's collarbone, no bruising to be had but there are definitely sharp little red marks leading their way over bone, the softer skin he draws little designs on with his tongue, sucking one nipple between his teeth without stopping everything else he was trying to focus on.

He does puff a little laugh, though at the last bit, "Didn't...plan on it."

From:

favoriteforgery

Illya practically wraps his arms around Noah's head as his mouth finds his breast. He bites his lip and when Noah stops to talk, he tightens his hold in a rather useless attempt to smother him back into place.

"Don't stop," he pleads, breathless and heavy. Every nerve ending feels like its on fire and it's too much and not enough all at once. Prokopenko fights back some of the filth threatening to fall from his mouth; he's just sober enough to want to avoid scaring Noah off.

The pressure of Noah's fingers shifts just right and Illya moans sharply, clutching all around him again as he pushed into coming again. His entire body trembles and tightens and he pants Noah's name.

From:

enoderedrum

Even if he didn't hold it back, Noah wasn't running scared. He knew who Illya belonged to and he still wasn't going anywhere.

From the corner of his eye he could see the others face simultaneously tense and relax with pleasure; and it was beautiful. Illya was so fucking handsome it was almost too hard to concentrate. He licked a little off to the side and got a mouthful of the others breast, biting down again and leaving another mark just as he felt his cunt pulse around him. Waves of rippling muscle that begged for more of something, and his own body was more than willing to give it. It was a handful more of those heavier thrusts before his own orgasm snapped free; a heavy, heady monster that made him bury his face in the other neck, groaning and growling at the same time. Hips rolled stupidly for a few more moments and then he let his other hand drop to the sheets again to hold him steady so he cold just breathe.

From:

favoriteforgery

He can feel it when Noah comes: the way his rhythm changes, the way he bites down and pushes his face against his neck. Again he burns with a hundred filthy things that disappear in the air as he tries to catch his breath. Illya wraps his legs around Noah, keeping him right where he is in case the other boy had some idea that he needs to pull away. His arms finally realx and he goes back to cradling Noah's head gently, fingers stroking through his hair as hips work mindlessly against him, seeking every last bit of pleasure to be had.

"Jesus, Czerny," he breaths at last, a smile in his voice as he stares at the ceiling. "Totally didn't think you had it in you."

He doesn't know why. Prokopenko has seen what mild-mannered boys are capable of, and he hadn't even known Noah at school.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MURDEREDONE