icy: where are my eyes. (I am so baked right now.)
Jack Frost ❄ sᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ([personal profile] icy) wrote in [community profile] pookabox 2014-08-12 11:53 am (UTC)

[ The new bolt on the door later will have to be properly christened when it goes up. The scrape of nails along pale skin leave stripes in their wake, answered by the mouthing of a scale near a nipple. Jack freezes (not literally, fortunately) when a bite secures on his shoulder and cries out, fingers scrabbling to repay the pain-come-pleasure in the return of an ice-burn back over his mark on Hiccup's inner thigh.

Two can play at that game.

Even though it tears fangs into his skin, he knows he'll heal and starts to bounce atop his husband's lap as best he can, knotted and secure from above and below by a mouth and cock. Even after all this time, Hiccup has an eager and devoted mate. ]

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