Prokopenko (
dreamedboy) wrote2021-11-30 12:58 am
Entry tags:
Open RP Post

⛈️ Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
⛈️ General squick/trigger list.
⛈️ m/m for anything shippy.
⛈️ General headcanon for Proko. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
⛈️ Proko's kink list.
⛈️ This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

no subject
No, I-- You were so fucking good, Illya. Sometimes I'd think about it when I fingered myself. I dreamt about it so many times.
[It's probably why it had been so easy, had come to him so naturally. Bringing him to life when he'd dreamt him so many times before. Not just for perverse causes, but- it was why he'd worried so long. That he'd brought back his fantasy dream-boy and not the one that mattered to him. But he's slowly decided that he doesn't think things would be so complicated if he'd done it that badly (or that his fantasy dream-boy was always just Illya himself).
The words are raw but honest, and Kavinsky almost wants to just kiss him. To climb into his lap and find out what anything looks like. Shove their pants down and speak in the language he's always been best at, replay that fantasy/memory/dream that's been stuck in his head almost since they met. But he wants to give him more than that-- well, he wants to give him more than just that, at least. He fucked this up once, the last thing he wants is for him to think that he's just a replacement, just to compensate for how shit his evening with Ronan went.]
It was 'cause... Because things got sorta kinky and I'd never talked to anyone about that before. And I didn't know how, but I knew we'd need to. And because I knew that I couldn't-- If I let you fuck me again, it wouldn't be casual. I'd have kissed you like I meant it and moaned your name and asked you to stay. And then I thought I'd fuck it up.
[And Kavinsky's eyes darken for a moment, and he traces the line of the boy's jaw. What he can't say: that he's already fucked up, and that Proko's still here. Maybe not the same, but real as anything to Kavinsky.]
I thought it'd be- easier. With Ronan, I mean. Since we're both dreamers I thought he'd get it- get me. But it isn't like that. So I already fucked up. I shoulda given you a chance after that party; I wanted to.
Can we try it again? And even fucking talk about shit, I guess. I still want to.
[And this time he does climb into his lap, like he needs to prove it, or just can't help himself. Like he's begging for a kiss, or begging for more. Or just that he's rarely good at the words, and he's just said a lot of them, and sliding his hips into the other boy's lap is a hard signal to miss.]
no subject
He couldn't look away from Kavinsky, even when his eyes grew a little damp. The idea that the other boy wanted him, in more ways than one, made a fierce, warm feeling uncurl in Proko's chest. Desire, affection, protectiveness- all of the above. He tipped his face into Kavinsky's hand, almost nuzzling against his fingers.]
I get you.
[It was murmured and honest as anything. He might not have been a dreamer himself but he was a dream and he thought he knew Kavinsky better than nearly anyone. He didn't blame him for going for Ronan, though. It was natural to want to connect with people, especially people who were similar to you.]
People fuck up. It's normal. I don't think I could hate you, though.
[He couldn't imagine it. He didn't want to imagine it. It was better to just think about this moment, especially when Kavinsky slid into his lap and Proko wound his arms around his waist.]
I want you- I've wanted you for a long time. I just thought-
[But he'd been wrong. Kavinsky wanted him, he'd just been- what? Nervous?
Proko smiled, a little sad but mostly warm, and leaned his forehead against Kavinsky's.]
I care about you. 'Course we can try again.
[He cared about Kavinsky so fiercely; he'd do anything for him. Though, this moment had less to do with his loyalty to a friend and more to do with the feelings swelling in his chest.]
no subject
[And Kavinsky meant it; the words breathed raw and honest between them, open in a way that he could only ever manage with his boys. But mostly with Prokopenko. Ronan had just been- he'd thought with another dreamer it would hurt less. That they'd get each other, that it would be them against the world. But the truth was that Proko was the only person he's ever really felt that with. Like he'd be at his side, no matter what.
Fuck, he doesn't know what he'd do if Proko hated him. But it's easy to just focus on his arms, the way that they wind around his waist, the feeling of being in his lap and pressing close against him. Kavinsky leans in further, so that they're basically chest to chest, so that he can curl his fingers in his blond hair.]
I wanted you too. I was just- I dunno. A mess. I still want you now. Both sexually, and-- I wanna date you.
[Their foreheads leaned together, and Kavinsky's breath catches, uneven and rough in his throat, and he kisses him because it's all he knows how to say. Desperate and needy and please. Because he needs him, he needs this, he wants Proko to fuck him so that he remembers how to breathe and then take it away with his fingers.]
And I wanna make it up to you, too.
[For taking so long to figure it out, for dragging Ronan around when he knew better. For letting the only person that's ever just been good to him think that Kavinsky didn't desire him with every ache of his broken heart.]
no subject
More important than that though was- I wanna date you. Proko's breath hitched and he went very still for a moment before remembering to breathe and blink and all of those other things. It almost felt too good to be true. Kavinsky wanted him. K wanted to date him. He nearly felt weightless except for the other boy in his arms. Proko kissed him back without hesitation, all but melting into it. It was good, so good, and he was a little breathless when they parted.]
I want to date you, too. I want- I want to be able to call you my boyfriend. You don't have to make anything up to me, though.
[Just this was good enough to make up for everything that'd happened before.]