othellovonryan | Sin Dreams

[The touch is gentle. Exploratory. Patience. Something croons in his mind to be patient, what parts of him that haven't submerged themselves entirely in the role that this place brings out.]

[He's doing something to test the waters. He has to wait for a response before he pushes for more.]

[Hands trace circles at her sides, slipping slowly under her shirt and up along her back.]

[Then]

[Those chirps. Those words.]

[He presses closer with a deep, rumbly churr.]

[Mine.]

[Teeth lightly scraping over her neck.]

[ Teeth ]

[ Teeth on her neck, teeth on her neck and it should be terrifying. It should be. It shouldn't feel this good, it shouldn't feel like a tease, it shouldn't leave her aching for more ]

Oh, hell —

[ She pulls away, but she doesn't go far …

Because she is, in fact, just straight up climbing into his lap. An illusion of control, the comfort of being close when she's still nervous ... and it lets her hide her face against his shoulder. ]

I was going to teach you a lesson, you know. [ Her lips brush his scales as she talks, and again when she chirps, play, chase, fight, win. ] Maybe I still should.

Edited 2023-03-13 17:38 (UTC)

[Donnie trills in disappointment as she pulls away. He debates a moment to pursue. It's gentle, he could still get her as a mate-]

[Except then he's being pushed and she's climbing onto him. He chirps in confusion at the move, instinct less familiar with the move, but]

[She's close.]

[He churrs, nuzzling her neck as she makes those strange sounds. Something teasing, he thinks.]

[Chirping. Play. Chase. Mate. His hands running up her back, teeth nipping harder at her neck.]

[ She's not sure which is more surprising: that he's being so bold in his advances — teeth sharp but gentle against her neck, making her gasp and squirm in his lap — or his patience. There's something … different about this. Different from what, exactly, she doesn't know. It's hard to care too much with his hands and mouth on her skin. ]

M-Mate, huh. [ A follow-up chirp, mate. She nuzzles against his shoulder, trails kisses along to the crook of his neck. Chirps again, questioning, breed? mate? mine? ]

[ She bites down there, right where his neck and shoulder meet, at first so gentle it's nothing more than a tease, slowly pressing harder, letting him feel …

… But then she lets go, and unless he grabs her real fast she yeets herself straight out of his lap to make a run for it, with a trilling chirp, Play! ]

Catch me if you can!

[Invitation. Heat rushes through him, hands gripping her sides, hips rolling up against her. He chirps excitedly. Breed! Mate! Mine mine mine! his hands grip at her more, not holding her down, but letting her feel his interest, as his hands move over her back and sides. Mouth trailing and teeth nipping at her neck, still gentle so far, only leaving light red marks.]

[Then there are teeth at his neck and he churrs and chirps encouragement, his want, head tilting more for a mark.]

[Then the warmth is away and he clicks and chirps in distress, head snapping after her.]

[He growls, not threatening, but definitely aggressive. Determined. Then he's on his hands and knees, and bolts after her.]

[ So, here's the thing.

She's soaked. Completely drenched. Her wings are so fucking heavy right now. Even though it's lovely out, a beautiful warm sunny day, it's going to take a while for them to dry. They'll slow her down. Not ideal when Donnie can be blindingly fast, and she knows from his growl — and fuck, that gets to her — that he's not going to go easy on her.

Good.

Because here's the other thing — even weighed down like this, she has ways to make him work for it anyway. She switches her ability from flight to speed and lets herself go, laughing, zig-zagging, dipping into Concrete Jungle for the extra agility. ]

[She definitely needs it. Donnie isn't holding back, not when he's been invited to chase down his mate. Playful, exciting, but he's too eager to make a proper claim. Not when his mate is so pretty and fast and wonderful.]

[He launches himself into the trees. The ground risks losing his footing. Branches he can grab and get himself back on proper track to keep up his pursuit when she changes root. Launching off tree trunks and the base of thick branches also helps.]

[He growls and chirps after her. Mine. Mate. Soon.]

[ There's nothing quite like the thrill of a chase. She knows he isn't holding back, and it spurs her on to run faster, to run smarter, using the trees and other obstacles to her advantage whenever she can. It won't be enough, but that's okay. Escaping was never the point. ]

[ She chirps back to him, laughing, breathless, teasing him with calls to catch her if he wants to claim her. ]

[ There's a bend in the river coming up, and the ground slopes down to meet it. The grass is longer, more lush, and here and there are smaller streams and pools. Tricky conditions for a currently flightless pigeon. Uh oh. She leaps over one of the pools but fumbles the landing; has to dive into a forward roll to save herself from going splat right then and there, losing speed and valuable seconds in the process. ]

[She keeps changing directions and he keeps chirping after her. Because she wants to play, so hiding isn't the point, its to keep her going. Stealth is for when he has the element of surprise or the enemy and she's not either of those.]

[With each change, he gets his feet on a tree trunk and launches himself forward to make up that bit of distance to keep close, moving like a gymnast between branches.]

[Boy really is so much more flexible without that battleshell.]

[He can smell the water ahead of them and that just makes him all the more excited, pushing harder to catch up, until he has to go back to the ground again as the trees are no longer relevant in the wetland.]

[She trips and he digs his toes into the mud and launches himself at her in a tackle.]

[ Any loss of speed is a Capital B Bad when it comes to Concrete Jungle, and the tricky underfoot conditions sure aren't helping her recover her stride. She has just enough time to think, uh oh, when — ]

[ OOPS. TACKLED. ]

[ Rather than try to throw him off, which would be technically smarter, Korone goes all in for a good roll-around wrestle, trying to pin him ]

Edited 2023-03-16 11:46 (UTC)

[He has her!]

[Oh, but she's struggling-]

[Play?]

[A questioning chirp as they roll over the ground. He is still struggling, still remembers play, but it's more to avoid getting pinned than pinning before confirmation this is part of her game than a protest.]

[ She chirps back immediately, enthusiastically, "Play!" And follows it up with an encouraging nip at his shoulder. ]

[Oh good.]

[There is a chirp back as he gets a lot more determined to pin her which Absolutely Includes Cheating, such as squirreling a hand behind her to scratch between her shoulder blades.]

[And more instinctively? A bite at her neck to try and pin her down with firm but not overly aggressive biting.]

C-Cheat! [ Of course he'd cheat like that, why wouldn't he. Stupid long arms, stupid clever, clever fingers. She shivers and wiggles, uncoordinated, her wings jerking in a move that's more flail than flap. ] Dokkun, that's —

[ It's a distraction that costs her. She freezes at the bite against her vulnerable neck, firm enough to make a point but not so hard that it hurts. Her breath catches on a gasp. ]

Ch-

Cheating...

[ She rallies, wiggling and trying to catch his wrists to pin them, but her struggle is much less boisterous this time. More testing. ]

Edited 2023-03-21 09:33 (UTC)

[There is a very smug trilling noise in response to the accusations.]

[He had a goal and he had played with his mate, but she had been teasing and he was determined to get his reward for catching her in this game. Drawing his claws firm, but not quit drawing blood, down along her spine from her shoulders down to the base of her tail.]

[He growls, his free hand catching one of those hands and pinning them to the ground, nipping at the side of her neck, before sucking against the skin.]

[ There is A Moment, between the … the everything. The pleasure-pain-pleasure of his claws dragging down her spine — close to drawing blood but not quite, so clearly calculated on his part — and the nips and bites and the warm, tingling pressure as he marks her …

It hits hard.

Korone makes a strangled, breathless sound, a low whine that might've started as an attempt at words, or chirps, or both, or neither. It's a lot. It's a lot. The nerves are back, weaving in through the thrill. He's got her as good as pinned; he's the one in control, and she …

… Yields to it. To him. They're tangled up together, neither one of them quite on top of the other. Pressed close enough that he'll be able to feel it when she stops squirming and pushing against him, that playful tension draining away. ]

A-Ah, geez — you … [ She wets her lips ] … You win this one. [ Tips her head, baring her throat in a gesture of trust, acceptance, surrender … and want. Chirps, quiet but clear:

Yours. ]

[There is struggling, struggling, then relenting, and he churrs, long and low, pleased, chest rumbling against her as he sucks a mark into the side of her neck. Feels her tilt her head, exposing her throat more and he trills in delight, nipping lightly over the skin.]

[Then the chirp.]

[He pushes her flat to the ground, chirping excitedly.]

[Mine mate mine mate.]

[As he nips harder at her neck, leaving red marks as he lets go of her hands. Trailing down her sides to her skirt, bunching up the fabric to slip under it to her ass.]

[ He's a smug, cocky peacock of a turtle, and an absolute menace. But hearing, feeling him churr, knowing that he's pleased and that he wants her — ]

[ It gets to her. Almost as much as his mouth on her throat — sharp nips scattered over a fresh bruise, each one making her gasp and whimper — and his hands tracing down her body. Heat pools low and she squirms under the attention, arching up against him, and for the first time in this encounter, she lets out a churr of her own. It's softer than his, pitched higher; a long, purr-like coo. ]

[ … There might be a bit of a squeak, too, when he goes straight for her ass. Damn, Donnie. She can't help but laugh. ]

I'm — I'm starting to feel like I'm overdressed for the occasion … [ Because she's wearing tights under the skirt, too self-conscious of her scars to go bare-legged outside of her own bedroom. But … but this is Donnie's river. It's just the two of them. He wouldn't tease her for her scars even if he was using his words, it's fine, she's safe here.

So she lets him decide what he wants to do with her tights, and lets herself explore a little more, now that he's no longer keeping her hands pinned. First along his arms, his shoulders … and then slower, but firmer, as she runs her palms down his shell, mapping out every detail, every bump and ridge and scar as long as he doesn't stop her. ]

[He gives an affirmative chirp. She is definitely overdressed. Silly mate with her silly games and silly clothes. Pretty birds definitely has some slider tendencies, but that's all right. He can play with silly. Especially when she makes sweet sounds like that for him. Like a coo and a churr and it gets a pleased trill from him. He likes the noise.]

[He tugs down her tights, some effort to not tear her clothes as he nips and nuzzles her neck. Teeth lightly scraping over the skin in a teasing, shivering at the touch.]

[Then hands on his shell.]

[A brief burst of static]

[But no. No. The hands are firm, slow, not squirming and reaching. Not a threat, just his pretty mate and he takes a shuddering breath against her neck, shifting to press his shell against her hands. Trilling, a low rumbly churr because it does feel nice to be touched and he wants]

[He wants her too.]

[Mate]

[And his mouth opens wide as he properly bites the nape of her neck, tugging at her tights with far less care. He wants and if tights get torn in his eagerness then he will hope his mate will forgive it.]

[ He isn't stopping her. ]

[ She's touching his shell, and he isn't stopping her. ]

[ He could. She knows that for an absolute certainty. Donnie is nothing if not firm in his boundaries, always has been, and being … maybe a little feral right now … does not mean he'd hesitate to assert himself if she crossed a line. She chirps back to him, soft, encouraging, a little playful. Yours. Mate. Not a threat. ]

[ She remembers what happened to him. She remembers his reaction when she offered a massage. No light, squirmy touches; no digging in, no reaching. She keeps up that same firm, even pressure as she takes her time to explore, slowly working her way down, down, down. Low enough to steal a curious brush against his tail with one hand just as — ]

[ He bites ]

[ And for an endless handful of seconds, everything goes to static, electric and completely overwhelming. It's dangerous and thrilling and safe and it's Donnie, it's Donnie, it's Donnie. The static steadies, settles into a heated blanket of brrr as her brain tries to reboot, and she — she just —

She melts under him, churring lower and louder as liquid heat floods through her, leaves her throbbing, wanting. Fabric tears — there go her tights, one less barrier against her scent — but she can't bring herself to care all that much. Her hips buck just a little, with instinct keeping her from moving too much. Trust. Not fear. Trust.

He doesn't want to hurt her. He won't hurt her.

… Instinct does not, however, stop her from boldly grabbing his ass, or from trying to tug him down against her, her blunt human fingernails pricking against his scales. ]

[The chirps help. They chirps coil around him, safe his mate, his, wouldn't hurt him. She was safe to touch his shell, calming the hints of static. He was safe. He wanted her close.]

[Especially when she touches his tail, just that hint of desperation for closeness that makes it impossible to not bite, to not mark his pretty mate, teeth in her neck, still and careful. Enough to leave that wonderful indentation of teeth, but careful enough to not really hurt her.]

[A churr of satisfaction as he feels her tension turn to submission, as she goes boneless under him and her scent is so much stronger in the air. Feels her squirm, but not enough to worry.]

[A satisfied trill as he releases her neck, licking away the blood from the wound as he feels over her hips.]

[Then she's eagerly grabbing at her, a hitch of his own breath at the grab, as he's pulled against her heat, as painpleasure sparks over his nerves and he churrs excitedly, hips jerking forward, grinding his slit against hers. Shivering at the sensation as he moves against her, skin to skin as he licks and sucks over his mark.]

[But...he has to check. He has to check, that is an important step.]

[He pushes back, pressing her to the ground with a few soft chirps. Mate mine need. Before he pulls his hips back with a whine, moving down her body instead, hands tracing over her thighs as he aims to settle between them.]

[ Korone is so boneless, reeling from the bite, the way he licks and sucks over the mark — layer upon layer of pleasurepainpleasure that makes her shiver and whine from sensitivity — and from his eagerness. Skin against skin and oh, oh fuck, oh that's so much. Her brain feels scrambled and her blood is molten and there's nothing but approval in her breathy whimpers and moans as they move together. ]

[ Right up until he rudely pulls away. He's still close, still chirping, but, but, but where does he think he's going

She makes a clumsy grab for his hands, his arms, whatever she can reach, tugging light but insistent. ]

Don — Donnie, get back here -

[There are a few brief moments of delay as she tugs at him, before he realizes she is trying to pull him closer, not pushing him away. He trills in amusement, catching one of her hands. He nibbles lightly over her pulse at her wrist, looking at her with a lidded gaze, slitted pupils adding an intensity to his gaze.]

[His other hand moves between her legs, tracing along her inner thigh before pushing to spread her legs more as he ducks down more, kissing her inner thigh.]

[ He'll have the pleasure of watching her blue eyes darken with want at the nibble. Of feeling, hearing, her pulse jump under the gentle press of his teeth.

God, though. The way he looks at her. She swallows, wetting her lips, too caught up in watching him to remember that she'd been trying to do something just now.

His next move renders it moot, anyway. ]

Wh -

[ Oh. Oh. ]

[ That's where he's going. ]

Oh my — w-wait, wait wait wait- [ She fumbles to sit up, propping herself on what feels more like a wet noodle than an actual functional arm. The thought of having him between her legs like that is electrifying, makes her shiver and squirm — and again, with a whimper, when she feels herself throb inside, a pulse of want and a trickle of wetness.

But it's also incredibly embarrassing ]

Y-You really don't have to-! [ Her legs shift, trying to close. Not that they can, with him nestled between them. ]

[His own eyes darken, a churr rumbling in his throat. He can smell her interest. Even with her flustered words that don't sound near enough like a protest to give much mind. She could kick and hit him 8f she wanted, but instead her scent is stronger, pulse thrumming under his thumb.]

[He rubs a slow circle at her wrist, his other hand running up along her inner thigh, down to her knee, and then up high, not quite touching her heat, but just barely.]

[Really, he is here to check. That is the important part, but if his pretty mate reacts like this, then he should do more. She was different, and he wanted to accommodate.]

[But first]

[He meets her eyes as he bites down hard on her inner thigh, high up, where her legs were surely to rub against each other. A place where she could constantly be reminded of his mark when she walks. There is a needy trill as he bites and sucks hard to leave a dark mark, drawing just a bit of blood.]

Sin Dreams

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