ossie_oswald: (Default)
[personal profile] ossie_oswald

"Send me a kiss by wire~"



A floral old-fashioned telephone with roses

Date: 2024-02-26 12:50 am (UTC)
goodweather: (74)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
There's a shift in Phil's posture. Good. Okay. Further elaboration and permission of what Ossie wants, what he's allowed to do here.

He lifts his head, and he spends a while looking thoughtful while his claws knead a bit on Ossie's stomach, winding his shirt out from being tucked into his pants. "Mmm," he says eventually. "I think I understand the moral of the story here."

... And then pauses again, rather more actually thoughtful rather than just for show. "Say--what're your thoughts on animal-looking people?"

Date: 2024-02-26 12:59 am (UTC)
goodweather: (shaman of the shadows!)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
"Mmm--I have this little trinket that I thought I should bring with me, just in case."

He pulls it from his jacket pocket: a beautiful jet-black watch with gold accents, which he deftly fastens to his own wrist. The moment he puts the tail under the little fastening strap, there's this soft flash of moonlight, and when it fades, Phil is looking remarkably different.

"I used to turn into this regularly back in the last world I was stolen into." He grins with a mouth full of predatory teeth. "Something about a magic moon. Bit of a werefox. If you like this better...?"

Date: 2024-02-26 01:15 am (UTC)
goodweather: (emerging from his burrow!)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Phil barks out a laugh, delighted at this reaction and that he's still wanted. "Oh, let me have my fun first," he hums as he lowers himself down again, head and hands settling for a moment on Ossie's stomach.

Then teeth and gold claws scrape down on Ossie's skin as they catch into his pants' waistband, and Phil tears one side from the other with a growl of effort, the fastener popping clean off and the seams splitting as if the thread was cheap and the job was shoddy.

"I only have an hour of this," he says as his claws dig into one of the pant legs and he tears that open too, "so I'll be a little quick about getting these off, if you don't mind."

Date: 2024-02-26 01:41 am (UTC)
goodweather: (woodchuck chuckers!)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Off goes the other pant leg, and the only thing in his way from the hips down is the man's undergarments, visibly tented. Phil makes this low sound in the back of his throat as he closes his right eye and turns his head slightly so he can look at it without interference from his cataracts.

"Aren't you pretty," he huffs. He has a brief thought about just taking that all in his mouth right now. Having a muzzle means it won't reach his throat, and he can press it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue--no, but it means he wouldn't be able to put these teeth to good use.

Which, Ossie's sweater and tie are in the way of that, so don't mind Phil as he moves up and presses his knee in against his crotch so he can reach up and tear off the sweater vest, not a care for any bruising or scratching he leaves along the way. His head twists to the side for better leverage like an animal ripping skin from a carcass.

Date: 2024-02-26 03:05 am (UTC)
goodweather: (74)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Good, good, all good sounds; Phil had been playing up the whole animal hunger thing for the theatrics of it, but now he's finding it becoming a little less of an act. Ossie makes himself awfully enticing, and there isn't much reason for Phil to resist. He wants it rough.

"Ng--" Phil is tugged out of his building frenzy by a tug forward on the neck, a breath escaping him. Phil blinks at him, with his stilled hands bunched up in the shirt he was about to tear the buttons from. Ossie wants his attention. For what? Does he need to pull back, dive in harder? Be redirected?

(It's not intentional, but the whole fox thing makes him look remarkably like an animal leashed and brought to heel.)

Date: 2024-02-26 10:44 am (UTC)
goodweather: (30)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Phil grins at the praise. Doesn’t even try to move to take his tie out of Ossie’s hand as he goes back into it, claws digging into his sternum as he reaches in to tear his shirt open. Ossie’s tie gets undone with impatient hands, and then his smooth body is all free reign.

(Except for where Phil’s left his undergarments on, of course.)

A yellow tongue licks a slow stripe from navel to collarbone, claws pressing into ribs. When he’s at the top, he sits up a little. “Right, so—for my own ease of mind, just let me know how far I can go. I’m not biting your dick off, but, do you expect… I don’t know, blood drawn?”

Date: 2024-02-27 07:14 pm (UTC)
goodweather: (emerging from his burrow!)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
"No, no, this is good. Thank you, that makes me feel a lot better."

And for that, of course, he's going to go ahead and make out with Ossie, muzzle and all. It's the natural course of action. Bit messy, too, considering he hasn't really got cheeks.

And then back to business. Phil pulls away and removes his knee; bending down, he grips Ossie's undergarments with his teeth, meeting his eyes, and jerks upwards with a grunt to tear it away in tandem with his claws.

Date: 2024-02-27 11:35 pm (UTC)
goodweather: (20)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Phil feels the wind knocked out of him at the sight. He’s—Christ, shit, that’s—where on the ship did he even get that, did Friday hand him a box straight out of the Erda—?

“Jesus Christ,” he marvels breathlessly, as he realizes that Ossie had that in him that the whole time while they were in the bar. Was walking with it. Was sat in his arms with it. If Phil wasn’t hard already, that’s definitely done the job. “I, um—yeah, that’s, I was wondering—very considerate, thank you.”

He spends another beat just staring hungrily at Ossie before his hand reaches down to undo his belt, metal clinking as the buckle comes loose. Off comes the clasp of his pants, the zipper, the boxers, until his own cock meets the air; it’s kind of a lot of layers, but he always enjoyed being unwrapped.

Phil produces a condom from his jacket pocket and slips it on, and picks up a bottle of lube from the end table to drizzle it over his fingers. He meets Ossie’s eyes and, just for show, runs his tongue over the back teeth as he slicks himself up.

When he’s done, the same hand brushes against Ossie’s entrance, leaving wet traces. “M’kay. Ready, darling?”

Date: 2024-02-28 12:13 am (UTC)
goodweather: (58)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Phil puts his claws around the plug, and slowly, carefully, slides it out. Watching Ossie fold around it as it’s removed is—hell, he hasn’t laid with anyone in a year and a half and he’s pretty sure it shows. There’s not much he can do about the hoarse noise he makes or the tightening grip of his other hand on his hip.

Phil puts it down on the end table. He settles in between Ossie’s legs, gets comfortable, makes sure he’s lined up; his tip finds the entrance, and when he pushes in, he holds his breath.

Date: 2024-02-28 12:40 am (UTC)
goodweather: (63)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
He only exhales when he’s well and seated in. Sex isn’t a need by any means, no, but it sure as hell is nice in his book, and after so long on his own, just sitting here with the feeling of Ossie around him is doing weird and new things to his brain chemistry.

“The wait,” he chuckles, “gee, what a compliment. I’m doing great.” (A massive understatement, if the Glamour he’s bleeding is anything to go by.) “What about you? Good so far?”

Date: 2024-02-28 01:08 am (UTC)
goodweather: (59)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
“Another night,” he grins.

“Okay. Hear you loud and clear.” With the go-ahead, Phil begins to rock, the slower pace with which he starts as much for his own benefit as it is for Ossie’s. This isn’t the kind of place where he’s game to just dive into the deep end, especially with how worked up he already is; better to ease in and pace himself.

When he finds a rhythm comfortable enough to split his attention, he leans down to kiss at Ossie again. More of getting his tongue sucked, please and thank you.
Edited Date: 2024-02-28 01:08 am (UTC)

Date: 2024-03-03 02:05 pm (UTC)
goodweather: (74)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
His ear flicks in Ossie's hand. Between that and the kissing and being seated in him like he is (God, is he tight or is Phil just not used to this), Ossie's starting to push all his buttons, already ratcheting up his arousal and impatience. He groans against his lips at the same time the pace starts to pick up.

"Gladly," he rasps, and leans over to clamp his teeth around his throat, inching up the pressure until either he gets anxious or Ossie starts making pretty sounds.
Edited Date: 2024-03-03 02:18 pm (UTC)

Date: 2024-03-09 11:24 am (UTC)
goodweather: (59)
From: [personal profile] goodweather
Later he might be slightly concerned at how quickly he fell into this, but at the moment, all of Ossie’s encouragement and praise and noise is lancing straight through him. He wants him like this—wants to feel him like this, and Phil is going to give him everything he wants. His ears swivel and flick at how vocal he’s being, and he grunts into Ossie as his ear’s tugged.

His teeth pull off for just a moment to press down again in a firmer hold, hot breath and wet tongue against Ossie’s skin; meanwhile a hand goes up to pin one of his wrists where it is against the mattress.

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] goodweather - Date: 2024-03-11 11:27 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] goodweather - Date: 2024-03-11 11:56 am (UTC) - Expand

Profile

ossie_oswald: (Default)
Oswald Wuthridge

June 2022

S M T W T F S
   1234
567 891011
1213 1415161718
19202122232425
2627282930  

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 22nd, 2025 03:02 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios
OSZAR »