duplicity inbox / cw for nsfw shenanigans.
![]() TEXT / VOICE / VIDEO / ACTION NOTE: felix generally responds to everything in text, even voice or video calls. expect 90% of his replies to be text-based regardless of urgency. |
![]() TEXT / VOICE / VIDEO / ACTION NOTE: felix generally responds to everything in text, even voice or video calls. expect 90% of his replies to be text-based regardless of urgency. |
no subject
It’s sincere. Ephemera’s a terrible liar but Felix isn’t. It could be a trick, could so easily be a game, but it isn’t. They’re too close now, Felix’s hand around his throat, his thumb pressed against Ephemera’s pulse. This is real. They bloodied each other and now, in the aftermath, things have gone —
Quiet.
Ephemera makes a small sound. His hand never leaves the back of Felix’s neck. Always, always shielding the implant. His other skips over scars, bruises, tracing out Felix’s outline with callused fingertips. Please, Felix said, and he feels good like this. His weight over Ephemera, his goddamn hands. The way that he licks into Ephemera’s mouth and over his goddamn scars. It feels good and so little does these days.
But right now, there’s no pain at all. There’s just the two of them and this pressure. The way that Felix works him.
Ephemera leans in and kisses Felix hard. And he does what he’s told. One moment he’s fucking into Felix’s hand and the next it’s like a wave breaking. Crashing into the surf. He tenses, and then goes still.
Goddamn. ]
no subject
i told you, he could say. he doesn't. he rolls his forehead against ephemera's then tilts back in his lap, drawing his hand away from his softening cock. cum streaks his wrist, parallel to the scar that extends from his palm, and felix flattens his tongue against it, licks it clean all the way to the tip of his index finger. watches ephemera through all of it, sharp-eyed as a cat.
he's still hard. painfully. but felix isn't so far gone not to realize that this is where shit usually turns south.
i guess i win, he thinks numbly, and thoughtlessly leans in to kiss ephemera again, pushing the taste of cum and blood and oil into his mouth. )
no subject
This is happening. Inevitable as gravity. Eventually, the ground’s going to rise up and wreck his shit. Survive or fall, it’s already in motion.
Ephemera presses his forehead to Felix’s forehead yet again. A grounding gesture. Maybe more for him than Felix now. But there’s no hesitation when he presses his hand between them and down, sliding over Felix’s stomach and the scars he finds there. And then lower, Ephemera breathing out slow as he puts his hand on Felix’s cock again. Starts to work him. ]
no subject
for as loud as he is everywhere else, his noises here are soft, breathy and subdued. his hand curves gently over ephemera's nape, pressing their foreheads together as he arches into the tight clench of his fist, chasing the friction. his free hand flexes over ephemera's hand between them, clenching lightly to coax his fingers into a tighter, harsher grip. something that'll kick him over the edge quick and drag him down just as roughly, the sweet spot between pleasure and pain.
it doesn't take long. felix drops his forehead to ephemera's shoulder and feverishly fucks into his fist until the heat coursing through him cracks him down the center, shreds through him like a riptide. fuck, a sharp, warbling hiss through his teeth, jerking in his lap as he spills in a messy band across their joined fingers. )
no subject
A brutal equation. An easy one. He’s made it before. It should have been simple. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t. Ephemera breathes out slow and keeps his hand on the back of Felix’s neck. Jerking him off rough, and fast. Listening as Felix’s breathing changes, feeling how he reacts. Like there’s only the two of them and not —
It’s like being on a drop. You close the world off. You only see what you need to.
Ephemera rubs circles, his thumb pressed against Felix’s pulse, and closes his eyes. Breathe. Just fucking breathe —
Someone wolf-whistles. Ephemera goes rigid. ]
no subject
coming is a lot like drifting out of a fog into a world that's too bright and cloudless, perfect clarity rushing in to knock unsuspecting travelers from their feet. felix realizes two things in the immediate aftermath: ephemera's gone dangerously tense, and he has his hand on his throat. it wasn't a threat two seconds earlier. it's a threat now.
shut it down. pull it in. come back to your fucking head. felix exhales slow, his breath tickling ephemera's collar. then he lifts his head and looks at him, at his red-bitten lips, swollen from felix's mouth and teeth. the bruise just over his pulse where felix bit down hard. blood on him, only partially his own. the obscene smell of blood and oil and dirt and sex.
yeah, fuck.
his hand shifts from his nape into his hair, knees grinding into his hips. the world topples as he pulls his weight sideways and flips them, rolling ephemera completely off him in the process and untangling their bodies in one silky motion. he follows the force of his turn into a crouch, similar to their lingering moment in the hallway, when everything came back too quickly, too raw.
someone grabs felix's elbow, drags him to his feet and back. one of the strange masked people who'd undressed him, slicked him down in oil. he looks at ephemera, sharp, wooden and cold, and he goes. )
no subject
Instinct. Reflex. Far too late. There's come on his hand. Blood stained across his face, his throat.
Ephemera twitches. Someone reaches for him and he reacts instinctively. Grabs for the outstretched hand and twists. Felix is back, out of rage. And then a moment later, he's gone.
Ephemera bolts for his clothes. He doesn't say a goddamn word to anyone. ]