geonomy: (☆ never carried days on our own)
clay тerran | ѕpace nerd ([personal profile] geonomy) wrote2016-11-20 10:09 pm

Drift Fleet Inbox, pt. 2


art by [tumblr.com profile] arumajikaru
A catch all for Clay Terran at [community profile] driftfleet, part two.
Please indicate the method in the subject line!
save_the_souls: (I look at you and I'm home)

Action; 3/06;

[personal profile] save_the_souls 2017-04-01 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[Allen wasn't the most poetic sorts of people. There was many times when he was lost for words to describe his feelings for Clay, as well as what they had together. "We're in love" was certainly true, and Allen regularly told Clay of his love. But sometimes it felt those words didn't go deep enough to describe it all, to describe the emotional and physical pull this man had on him.

He makes a little "Ah!" sound when he starts biting and sucking on his neck, but it's clearly a very pleased one, if him tilting his head to make him more room wasn't a given. ]


Ha...you know, if you hadn't stopped us...I think I would've let you. [Have him like this]

...Well, alright, maybe not on our second date since we were in an waystation, but in that room. [He lift his pelvis again, his face flushed] It definitely crossed my mind.
save_the_souls: (whateeevs)

Action; 3/06;

[personal profile] save_the_souls 2017-04-06 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
[He starts groaning, his hands gripping tight onto Clay. The scar tissue that the tattoo hid was still sensitive, so Clay's bites felt so good along with what he was doing to their lengths. ]

Me too. [It all worked out pretty quickly, after all. His own breath is getting heavy from the stroking] Ngh, so are you, Cowboy. Faster, please.

[It comes out almost pleading, in-between shallow breathes]
save_the_souls: (So the child fell into a deep sleep)

Action; 3/06;

[personal profile] save_the_souls 2017-04-07 04:51 am (UTC)(link)
[At this point, Allen's basically putty in Clay's hands. The other knows his sensitive spots so well, knows all the places to nibble and touch. His head falls back against the pillow, letting Clay's hand get in reach of his hair to grip, as his hips continue moving into those strokes, that touch. His voice on the other hand, is far from quiet. He's gasping, and moaning out Clay's name in bliss in between breathes.

He probably won't last much longer at this rate. His hand runs up into the back of Clay's hair to return his own light tugs.]