[ Every sound Black Mist makes has IV twitching in its grip, letting out little choked, desperate noises as he sucks at the tendril in his mouth. And that's before even the fast pumping oil from both tendrils, before it starts fucking him with them both.

If it weren't keeping him calm with its voice he'd be beyond desperate by now, he'd be arching and writhing and fighting past his exhaustion to jerk about as much as possible in the hopes of getting more, more. As is though, he's placid, almost docile; just hanging in its grip, hips rocking slowly (but faster now, gradually) into the thrusting tendrils and moaning softly, eyes glazed with lust.

(even despite that, though, he's starting to tremble more, to suck harder at the tendril in his mouth)

(Black Mist can calm him but this is too much, this is too good)

(and

Chris is watching)

(that thought is enough to have an abrupt jerk of his hips, IV's eyes squeezing shut) ]