bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

[myselfwillbear]

[ IV doesn't know a huge amount about what his crest can do. It's not as though Tron has really told him much - he knows it stops the Numbers controlling his mind, but beyond that? He wasn't told anything.

He's worked out though, on his own, that he can manifest the Numbers outside of the AR, using the crest. It's not perfect, true - Giant Killer is as small as one of his dolls, Heaven's Strings won't leave its sealed form - but they'll appear nonetheless. He's never gotten to experiment with Machu Mach or Dyson Sphere, though, much as he'd wanted to, and none of the other Numbers he's collected have ever been that interesting.

So, truth be told, he doesn't exactly have high hopes for this latest card, 96.

But he'll manifest it anyway, if only the one time, to see.

Which is why he's currently stood over Black Mist's card, crest blazing on his hand as he works on drawing it out into reality. ]

Comments

[numbers96]

[Good. Good.

(he just needs a push)

(just one more little push and then)

It moves a closer again, strokes his face as the tendrils begin to move in him faster.]

What should he do, IV?

[myselfwillbear]

[ The tendrils are moving faster and IV can't speak, not straight away. Can't do anything at all but writhe and jerk in Black Mist's grip, all but screaming on every exhalation.

(because it's too much, it's too much and not enough and he needs to come more than he needs to breathe right now, it's like he's burning and drowning all in the same motion, drowning in hot oil)

The noises start to get more coherent though, the longer Black Mist holds him and fucks him open at that speed. Words start to slip through the torrent of noise, please and nii-san and give in and more.

His eyes clamp shut and he arches up further with every thrust of Black Mist's tendrils, still begging on every breath.

(if Chris doesn't give in, he)

(he doesn't know what he'll do)

(he can't survive this kind of pleasure-pain-anticipation for much longer) ]

1/2

[butfortheirvirtue]

[He understands.

He hears IV pleading, sees it fucking him hard and fast but he's still not coming and he understands.

He should have expected this to be a trap, really. Maybe he did understand.

(maybe he did understands and he just didn't care)

(he doesn't care right now, certainly)

(for this moment he doesn't care if it's a trap he doesn't care what he'll give up he doesn't care he)

(he needs it, he wants what IV's getting and more, he wants everything it can give him and he wants IV too and he won't be satisfied until he has it, has everything)

(at heart he is greedy, like most humans)

It's in that moment, that moment when the trap doesn't matter, that he opens his mouth and speaks.]

...p-please. Please.

[He barely even knows what he's asking for.]

[numbers96]

[It wins.

The crest on Chris' forehead lights, squirms and shifts, and

the numbing comes off.]

[myselfwillbear]

[ IV barely even hears it, when Chris gives in.

(because he's not numb any more)

(because there's a moment of nothing and then, abruptly, everything)

He arches so far that it should hurt but there's no pain, there's barely even pleasure there's just an end, blinding dark and blinding light in his vision all at once and his ears ringing with his own hoarse scream and his pulse pounding in his ears like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. He's suspended in the moment for what feels like forever, locked into place by the force of his orgasm and the way his muscles tense up, noise wringing its way out of his throat.

It feels like forever and when it finally stops he slumps in Black Mist's grip, head lolling back like he can't hold himself up.

(his muscles ache and he feels sore and tender all over, every breath rasping in his throat like sandpaper but)

(the pain doesn't matter)

(nothing matters, not after so much pleasure and pain, when he's so exhausted and held up only by Black Mist's grip) ]

[numbers96]

[It's there for him, of course, when he begins to come down. It floats up to cradle his head in his lap, strokes his cheek and speaks to him in a voice dripping with adoration.]

You've done so ｗｅｌｌ, pet...you've made me so ｐｒｏｕｄ...

[Its touches are rhythmic, soothing, a simple pattern to bring him to rest.

(in the background, V squirms, moans as a tendril probes at his ass and another slips into his mouth, nearly sobs with relief)]

Would you like to sleep, pet?

I can make him ready.

[myselfwillbear]

[ IV mumbles incoherently against Black Mist at first, shifting to bury his face in its lap and trembling with the force of his exhaustion.

It's speaking to him like that, it's soothing him and IV is so tired, so desperate to sleep but-- but he can hear V, too. He wants to see. Wants to see it get V off, wants to-- no, though, not help out. Not now, not when he can barely even move and every part of him feels leaden with exhaustion. ]

I--

I want to...

[ He trails off, the see dying in his throat as his eyes flutter shut completely.

He wants to see, but when he can barely keep his eyes open and the only thing keeping him up at all is the tendrils holding him, he's not so sure that that's going to happen.

(maybe--)

(maybe if it held him up, so that he could sit back against it in the air)

(it could envelope him too, he thinks, moans weakly at the thought and squirms just a little) ]