shadowglitter | ic contact

would? I would

if you want.

Let’s?

[ he ducks back into his room upstairs, and he considers asking Peter to come meet him, but he's all nerves and he doesn't think he's quite ready to go from whatever they're doing to... something slightly more upgraded. with. in person. things. in person. feelings.

and so. ]

What's up. I guess. Haha? Hahaha. I've, uh, got some time off, so. So, like. Like. If you're still, like. Hey, what's up. I'm Odin/Owain Dark, slayer of evil, traveller of time and tide, crusher of death and bringer of unfathomable glory. I'm nervous?

[ meanwhile Peter is still in a dog trailer, unceremoniously ousting it’s owner so he doesn’t feel bad with her sitting next to him. Rooty trots off to live her life elsewhere and Peter squirms a bit to get comfortable. It’s just texting but it makes his stomach flop and he’s still into it but... damn. ]

do you want me to keep going with the Oreo thing
I can. it’d prob be easiest so yeah ok
hold on while I get back into character here

ok so where were we
I was dragging my tongue over an Oreo, right? (wish it would stop capitalizing that)
just starting with a fast but building up to longer licks

[ Right, right. Right. Right. right. right. okay. it's not weird, it's just - texting. he doesn't have to make this weird. he doesn't even have to, like, do anything? he could have just stayed in public, being. watched. if he wanted to. seeing as he's not doing anything weird. but that'd be weird? he's not weird. he's. just. one guy. listening to another guy. that he's dating. about. weird. euphemistic. mouth. stuff.

it's fine.

odin sits down on the end of his bed and just kinda stares at his phone for a minute. ]

Edited 2018-02-17 08:31 (UTC)

Right.

[ he's not even sure what he's allowed to say in response. what peter would be comfortable with. does he roleplay the oreo? yeah, peter, gouge that filling with your thrusting taste-meat. no, that's bad. ]

Longer licks. Is good. Good job. Good work there. Nice one.

[ fuck ]

so you like it? You can tell me how you want me to
do this
if you want

Like if you want me to keep licking or... talk about what I’d do with my hands here?
What to touch. like.
stuff

How I want you to... do this... on the. Oreo. Still sticking with that? Sticking with oreo? Keeping that thin veil between overt sexuality and standard, regular conversation going strong? Okay. Um. So, like. Okay. Fine. You do this thing - where you drag your tongue over the cream really slowly? From the... What's a non-dick way to say base to tip? Sorry. Uh. Just, like, you drag your tongue. Slowly. And. Every time I watch that, it gets to me. So. That, obviously. And your hands - just - touching. I don't know. It's hard to say "sometimes I like to imagine your fingers slowly curling into a fist around something" when that something is supposed to be a cookie. Instead of, you know. What it. Usually. Is. In my head. Oh my god. This is stupid? I'm stupid and ruining everything. Uh. Okay. You. Would. Be. Gentle. With your hands. And. I would be firmer. Than that. With mine. On the completely innocent cookie that isn't a metaphor.

Edited 2018-02-17 08:57 (UTC)

right, ok

so right i have the oreo in my hand. still. like, curling my fingers around the edges of it or whatever - giving a pull. to get the... y'know, creme out. that sounds like though. it's harder to make cookies sexual when you're like, thinking about it? whatever. i uh, am i kneeling doing this or something else? paint that picture so i know my angles here.

but i'd start at the bottom of this - cookie. (hah. cockie?) and do what you like, a slow... drag of my tongue from base to tip. and then around the tip before putting it in my mouth. to suck on it just... as slow?

You don't pull an oreo to get the creme out, that doesn't make sense.

[ okay, wait, nervous. nervous and flustered. fuck, okay, fuck. focus. ]

Okay. Okay. You're on your knees. My hand's in your hair, fingertips gently scratching through your scalp. Is that reassuring and hot or kind of weird? Scalp's a weird word and I don't want to kill the... mood. Scalp. Scalp. Hold on, let me try again. You're on your knees. In front of me. I'm on the edge of my bed. And, um, you're doing that to the oreo, and. Woah! Feels great. Nice one. Um, I'm guiding you a little? Easy tugs on your hair and reassuring strokes and stuff. And... Eye contact. You're making me feel fucking amazing and I want you to see every bite of my lip and hard breath I take. Because. I'm looking at you and thinking, fuck, he looks perfect like this. I love seeing him like this. Fuck, that's Peter and he's perfect. Kinda thing. oreos.

dont critique my sexting skilsl odin fucking dark
this is the first time ive done this seriously
i will kill you?

i cant do this? i cant
im not saying oreo anymore

also dont say scalp it is kinda weird. makes me think dandruff over sex

anyway RESUMING with a RECAP:

i am on my knees and you're like, on the bed. sitting at the edge and this is after i parted your legs for a space to sink down into. when my hands aren't like on your NOT COOKIe but in fact cock because we're Adults who can sext and like. real talk i don't know how to legit give a blowjob but like, experimenting here. you're understanding. i'm going slow. and when my hands aren't helping, they're holding on to your hip or squeezing down your thigh.

[Is it weird he's walking through this as if Odin were a chick, making edits where applicable just to feel a little more experienced here? Probably. But it's helping. There are some things he knows a little more about.]

its pretty established i like your hands in my hair, especially if you... pull? i uh, yeah. like that. you can direct me to... do things more - forcefully if you want

Edited 2018-02-18 06:18 (UTC)

I gently take my dick away. I go and put the TV on because I heard there's an old western movie on in a few minutes and I want to catch it so I can practice being a cowboy. I sit down with my Nordic Mead and prepare to indulge myself, culturally, rather than through base physical experiences with someone I love-ish or whatever. You're still here, I ask? I laugh, callously, as I shoo you from the room.

None of that is canon. Sorry. I'm still kind of nervous.

Okay, um. I stare at my phone a little dry mouthed, rereading the part where my boyfriend says he likes getting his hair pulled, because that's maybe the hottest thing he's said to me maybe ever? And, um, I lay down on the bed and shift a little to be more comfortable, and then I realize I'm just narrating my real life instead of sexting, so I slip seamlessly back into character as I clear my throat and try not to be blatantly weird or tell you when I start jerking off or whatever. Um, so. Even though I'm forceful, like, I'm gentle about it? At first? Because I'm nice and I'm testing your limits rather than choking you on my dick even though I think you'd probably be into that. I'll, like, gently pull you back down on my dong, and like, be like oh shit, the aching length of my dragon's staff remains as turgid and agreeable to this as ever, I love it. And then. I guess, okay. If you're okay with it, I'll like, guide? My cock? Into your face. Mouth. More. And I'm all like, yeah, take it. In like a hot way. Breathing in a hot way. I'm really hot in general and you're like, shit, what a hot guy, and I'm like I think you're a hot guy, actually, and then that makes you feel appreciated. Good? Bad?

not bad, i mean. i don't really know how people do this but like i know that uh. i like hearing what you like? and i dontk now how to do this because im bouncing between fake world shit and like, am i supposed to talk about irl? like, i am kinda. y'know. turned on, i guess. i say i guess a lot but in this context yes, actually am turned on. are uh, you? are we supposed to talk about that? would that be easier 'cause like i dont mind you imagining me blowing you but i cant even tell if id be into the whole choking thing or not. im kinda worried about that? the gagging part.

is it weird to ask that am i deviating fro mthe narrative here

PETER MAXIMOFF awkwardly asks you if you are TURNED ON by the events of this chat and if he's supposed to CONTINUE SEXTING AWKWARDLY because he too is nervous.

I'm nervous about telling you what I like. What if you don't like what I like? What if we stumble upon this huge sexual incompatibility between us that drives a wedge even further into your own already unsteady sense of self-exploration? I know there are things I've done that you like and things about me you like but what if we find something you don't like and it snowballs into this whole big thing where you end up saying "it turns out I don't like dudes at all" and you break up with me and I get so upset that I set my house on fire and kill both Lucina and Leo because I forgot they were inside and then I go to jail and live alone in a friendless familyless boyfriendless world? What if that happens.

[ typing, backspace, typing, backspace ]

I was hard as fuck until I started thinking about my family dying, if that's anything. Like, maybe harder than I've ever been? But then I talked about my family dying.

first off i dont shame for kinks, and doubt you would either. and even if there's something one of us likes that the other doesn't, it doesnt mean things are over. love isnt over. or dead. we have two options: give it a go anyway or just, you know, not do the thing. i wont die if you dont pull my hair, etc. im not gonna force you or feel super compelled to do anything im not comfortable with , n neither should you

(also if ur into snowballing and that's like, a segue with witty wording or smthng just let me know)

and like. okay. so i worried about realizing im not into dudes too but you made me hard, dude. that pretty much defines "into dudes" if you can and currently are making me physically uncomfortable with a boner as i lay alone in a dog trailer, texting you 100% comfortable cybering giving u a blowjob

you dont need to worry
i like you
a lot
i just sort of worry that maybe im not fast enough at this or like you know, good? at it? you probably got great bjs before and im like. shit. im gonna end up gagging on your dick one day and that's terrifying but y'know - if i love you i gotta do shit that makes me cringe and get thru it anyway so dont get hung up on . . . i t o kay

Man.

[ there's a lot that he could say. reassurances, expressions of gratitude. promises that things will come easier to them as they stumble through this together. he shifts in bed and types a few things, only to backspace them away. he takes a breath.

he takes another breath.

okay. ]

Okay. You're by the foot of the bed. I'm right on the edge of the mattress, one hand curled in the sheets, the other locked in your hair, brushing soft, smooth strokes through it but ready to grab tight at any moment. You're sucking my cock, your tongue fucking dragging over the tip, and my whole body is just tense. My breathing is coming in these short, ragged pauses, all that pressure and all that heat scrambling my brain. I can't focus on anything but you. You're jerking off for me. There, on your knees, looking up at me as you blow me. I think you're fucking beautiful and I lean down, pulling you off my dick to close the distance between our lips, and - and it's, um. Great. It's a good kiss. Rough. And. Like, you like it. And. Uh. Fuck. Hey. You can say no. But. Do you wanna come up to my room?

[Peter finds himself breathing a bit hard after reading that, and it’s not the only hard thing going on either. Slow exhales through purses lips as he retreads the text, lingering on the final suggestion. It’s what makes his dick fully hard, to be honest, the suggestion of more. Of bridging their fantasy to reality and how that is a pretty serious step to take forward. It’s serious. Big. New? Scary.

And exciting. ] i think I would. i can.

i’ll come up right now.

Edited 2018-02-18 08:12 (UTC)

Yeah? Okay. Okay, cool. Another hurdle of emotional insecurity cleared with grace by the ever-attentive and perfect boyfriend, Odin Dark. Suck it, literally every other relationship anyone has ever had. I got this shit down pat.

[ he sends like five different laughing emojis and then puts his hands over his face, embarrassed. stupid. stupid. stupid idiot. okay.

They might not have a lot of time to... see each other, given that Odin's supposed to be working and his break's only going to last as long as his bribe does, but. Fuck, Odin doesn't even know what they're-- what they might do, he just-- there's been months of buildup to this, a slow and steady climb of increasing physical intimacy since space, and now that they're both in a place where looking at each other provokes-- more of that? It's hard for him to stop fixating on the doubts and the reasons why Peter wouldn't actually be interested in him, once they started doing anything, but he just...

He'll be sitting on his bed, standing up as fast as he can once Peter shows up. Just him in some dumb gothic suit, hair a mess as it always is, leg bouncing nervously. The door's unlocked, but once he calls Peter in, he nods for him to lock it. ]

Um.

[ a wave. hey. what's up. ]

[Peter shows up quickly, knowing he should think better of going into Odin's room right now from any entrance except the hidden one but here he is. Not giving a shit, mostly because he's still hinged on an excited and albeit horny feeling in his gut. A feeling that could be eclipsed easily by anxiety or something else, but led him to slide into the bedroom swiftly and close the door behind him.

For a moment he leans back against it, hand still on the doorknob as he clicks the lock.] Hey.

[This got real. Again. While Odin looks put together, Peter still feels a bit out of place when stuck in a suit. At Debra's wicked order he's been seeing his casual clothes go missing more and more, until he's been left with the demands to dress accordingly or never see his band tees again. So here he is, suit jacket folded over one arm and crisp white dress shirt feeling like it's going to suffocate him.

Oh, no. That's just nerves.

They could do that thing again where they just stare at each other from opposing ends of the room, but right now Peter... feels drawn to Odin. So after a silent pause he starts to walk toward his boyfriend, dropping his suit jacket onto the bed blindly and standing in front of him. Close. So close.

His breath feels thick. He looks to meet Odin's eye.] Well?

[ Peter's the host - it makes a certain amount of sense that he's checking in with the star, and any catty looks from Debra as he makes his way upstairs must be purely because she dislikes him.

That well? hits Odin like the fist of an angry God, and it's the only thing that snaps him out of what he's doing. Staring at the way Peter's hand lingers on his jacket as he drops it on the bed, staring at the way that shirt fits him so perfectly, staring at the way he walks... Odin's mouth is dry, but he tries to wet his lips regardless, and he-- panics, just a little. What if this is too soon? What if he's asking for too much, or-- or if he won't be what Peter's hoping he'll be? The same old anxieties start to build up in his chest, until-- until--

Actually, hey, here's a thought?

Fuck this.

He grabs his boyfriend by the collar and pulls him up into a kiss, nose pressed uncomfortably to Peter's cheek as he catches at his bottom lip to urge him into this. He swipes carefully at his tongue with his own and the fists curled in Peter's shirt tremble with nerves, but he pushes through it, the kiss rough and careless and aggressive, almost hard enough to bruise. He pulls his lower arm around Peter's waist, the other settling on the side of his neck, and when he tugs the Unknowing Cookie Slut(tm) closer to feel the weight of his body against his own, he doesn't hide how hard he is, his cock grinding a shallow drag against his thigh.

He pulls back, an uneven pink flush around his lips, but he keeps Peter held close. ]

Um, hey. S-so. I thought-- if you were comfortable with it, we could-- like-- wait.

[ Wait, fuck. He takes a breath. Tries again, lowering his voice an octave or too. Keep the mood going. ]

... So. You gonna be the one to get on your knees... or am I? (Nailed it.)

[He gets a rush right to his head of adrenaline and endorphins when their lips crash together, Odin's forceful pull making Peter breathless in an instant. He reciprocates wildly, sucking in harsh breaths between kisses as his fingers dig into Odin's sides and hold him close with the same fierceness. He wants this and he needs it, a low groan in his throat when Odin brushes close - it makes him want to do a lot of things in response.

But instead he gasps in a breath, blinking open his eyes to look at Odin when he slips words back in between them for a breather. He listens, attentive if not a slight bit glassy eyed from brewing lust and at first he doesn't answer. He just slips his fingers under Odin's tie, pulling it free from the waistcoat and tugging it taut toward him.]

If we pick up where we left off? I think I remember you being on the bed. [He punctuates that sentence by placing one hand on Odin's shoulder, pushing him back down towards the bed him while also giving him a downward pull of the tie. He can feel his heart inching its way back up his throat and it's part of why he needs to act before he loses his edge. He leans over Odin, meeting gaze with him.]

Do you want me on my knees?

[He slips his palm up the center of Odin's chest, loosening his tie.] Or do you want a little bit of plot deviation? I'll give you some time to consider.

[Peter lets his tie hang loosely through his collar, working on unfastening the buttons of that next after opening the front of his waistcoat. While he does this he sinks to one knee, all the better to facilitate dipping in to kiss at the bared skin of Odin's throat and work his way down his chest as he pulls open his shirt. He thought he might have more reservations about this but he doesn't, not with how much he gets out of the harsh nips and bites he makes against Odin's neck - decidedly beneath the collar after a moment of mindless hickey-making. He does have a twist in his gut at the thought of blowing his boyfriend but - that's nerves, a sense of the unknown. This sort of buildup he at least can tackle with gusto.]

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1/

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/3 that was it oops

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