[ It's still such a new feeling, somebody else's hands — well, hand — on her scarf. Touching it, moving it, the soft fabric shifting against her neck. Makes her shiver, her head dropping back against the wall behind her with the quietest, faintest hint of a chirrupy churr. ]
About that ...
[ Another little tug, but then she leaves his mask alone in favor of trailing her nails up and down the back of his neck. ]
Remember when I told you about those satin PJs I was working on?
Mmh — [ A hum of pleasure that she tries, tries(!!) to turn into Just A Hum. It … doesn't work out so well. She squeezes his hand where he's got her pinned. ]
W-Well, I was thinking ... now that they're finished, I could bring them over to Egg. Tonight, maybe. If you don't have plans.
Uncertain. Aloy brought up a project this morning and if stuff starts happening, she might take it as another dismissal. [He huffs a bit. He can't say it wasn't a tad irksome to be assumed as dismissing something when he's had a hell of a time since with no reminder, but if Tryse was right that Aloy was just that blind, well, he wanted to try and build the bridge now that Aloy was starting to meet him halfway.]
I'll need to see this evening. I'll text you, but it may have to be tomorrow.
[And then Things Happen.]
[He lets his breath trail down her neck.] As much as it pains me to wait to see you in them.
S'okay if we have to wait. It'll build anticipation, you know? [ A firmer drag of her nails down, followed by a soothing stroke of her thumb. ] You can spend tonight thinking about me wearing pretty purple satin.
Your pretty p-purple - [ Her heart skips a beat. Or. Maybe several beats, and she shivers hard, dropping her shoulder and arching her neck just that bit further. ]
[Oh, if only his anxiety ridden self will let him sleep more than an hour or two, let alone not doom spiral-]
Mine. [It's a low growl, neck arching a bit under her hand, a low groan in his throat.] I really hope she can wait until tomorrow. I've wanted to see you in those pajamas since you mentioned them. [He squeezes her hand.]
Want to ruin you in them.
[He opens his mouth, and lightly, incredibly lightly, drags his teeth against her neck.]
Nevermind how close he is, nevermind the way he's touching her; the growl alone threatens to turn her legs to jelly. ]
Y — [ And then with the teeth. Teeth on her neck. Just the lightest, most gentle of scrapes. Her breath catches and holds, her whole body shuddering against his in one long ripple of tension. Nerves, want, anticipation, and sheer physical sensitivity are a hell of a combo. ]
Tulip, Daffodil, or Lily? [A low murmur in her ear. Teeth scraping just under her ear, give her a little breathier.] You remember what they are, correct?
I know I usually like you chanting my name, but keep me up to date where you are. I'll stop if you're silent too long.
[His mouth trails down again, another slow, gentle drag of his teeth against her neck followed by a peppering of kisses. Hand squeezing her hers, other hand trailing over her side.]
[ How dare he. How dare he. She has to bite back a whine at the praise, shifting restlessly between him and the wall. Her wings flutter. ]
R-Right. Right, o-ohfuck! — okay — [ it's like that hamster on a keyboard feeling she gets when he has his hands in her feathers, but so much more?? ] Might. Probably. Need reminders.
[ She squeezes his hand back. Tries to steady herself. ]
I had - another idea. By the way. A question. About toys.
I can do reminders. [He keeps the attention gentle. Light kisses pressed against her neck, giving her several before another slow, careful, but pointed drag of teeth against her neck.]
[He presses his plastron against her, pinning her more firmly to the wall.]
Hm, what is it, love? [Nuzzling gently over her pulse point.]
[ Her heart's already beating hard under the attention, her ragged breathing hitching shakily with every kiss, stuttering for handfuls of seconds at the drag of teeth.
At the firmer press of his plastron against her.
She could move if she really needed to. It's firm, demanding, but she's only trapped for as long as she wants to be. (And, really, if he wasn't so close, who's to say she wouldn't have melted into a tingly, flustered puddle on the floor already?) ]
S-So, uhm. I don't, don't know if this is a thing, but, uh ... [ She hooks an ankle around one of his. ] It probably is, right? [ ... She says, forgetting to even say what the thing in question might be. ]
[He chuckles against her throat, hand moving to grip her hips, a leg moving between hers to give her more support, and maybe more temptation. Having her quaking in his arms was a powerful thing. He wanted more of it, and more of those breathless sounds.]
You didn't say what the thing was, Chocochu. [He nibbles, gentle, brief over her pulse.] It probably does, but I could make it if someone hasn't been so inventive yet.
[ Temptation is right. An attempted grumble of protest comes out more like a garbled, wanting gasp. She wiggles — only to jolt into stillness at the nibble. ]
[ She wants - ]
[ ... ]
Uhm. [ Right. What was she saying? ] Something ... something you could wear. So I'd get to, to feel what it's like, having something inside, have you moving over me — that could be inside you at, at the same time.
[A bit of a confused at the first part, nuzzling her neck, until she finishes.] Ooooh. For a moment I thought you were mush brained enough to forget I do have a cock. [He sounds amused.]
[There's another slow scrape.] There's two headed dildos. Some strap one though that angle will need an adjustment. Usually for lesbians so there's definitely options in the ruins. We could go after your mark is fresh.
Hard, hard to forget, when I keep thinking about it. [ Listen.
She has a vivid imagination.
And knowing that it's going to be a while before they both feel confident about her trying to take him? Yeah. That imagination's been going hard when she hasn't been occupied with other things. ]
[ She almost loses the thread of what he's saying when she feels that next scrape of teeth, lips parting around shallow, panting breaths. It feels good. It feels like fizzy, fuzzing static, pin-prick trickles of fire and ice running through her veins. ]
[ Her fingers flex against the back of his neck, grip tightening, loosening, tightening again. Options in the ruins. Adjustments. They could go. ] Mn, mm'k- [ A nibble; her voice jumps, pitching higher, ] 'kay -
[There is a churr at that, a low growl in his voice.] Have you now? [He adjusta his leg, pressing it up more.]
Good girl. My good girl. [He nuzzles just under her chin.]
It would be like a preview of getting to be inside you. Help you get used to the pace in a way fucking your thighs can't do. We can even adjust sizes. Get you closer.
Sounds delightful.
[He opens his mouth, and presses his teeth to her neck. Not a scrape, just a more firm press to really feel his teeth, but before he pauses any pain.]
[ Hopefully he wasn't expecting any kind of coherent response to that, because ]
[ Damn ]
[ The press of his thigh against her, firm enough to feel even through layers of fabric. She shifts, squirms, her hips twitching against him without her permission, and oh, oh fuck, she's already wet, isn't she? She is. Wanting — wanting —
A whimper of a whine escapes.
The firm press of sharp, sharp teeth short-circuits whatever's left of her brain; a short-sharp freefall drop that punches the air out of her. Reality stutters. When it fuzzes back in, she's clutching at him, an arm around his shoulders, a leg hooked around him. She absolutely would have fallen if he didn't have her pressed so securely between himself and the wall. ]
[There is a feeling of satisfaction as she squirms against his thigh,can feel the telltale sticky heat that tells him she's affected. He thought so, but it's always good to have it confirmed.]
[And then the way she clings to him after the press of teeth pulls a deep, rumbling churr against her neck, hands gripping her tightly in the surge of want.]
[He pulls his teeth away, kissing over the mark as he presses his thigh more firmly against her, shifting it slightly for that bit of friction.]
[ The air's not the only thing that's been knocked out of her; she's lost her words as well. Head empty no thoughts only pure, unadulterated static brrrr now. Everything teeters on a knife-edge between perfection and too much ]
[ His tightened grip alone is enough to make her moan, stuttering and soft but borderline wrecked. The slick-wet-need want in her scent spikes higher. More. She wants more. The push, the praise, the pain that isn't hurt. ]
[ Heat and friction and — ]
[ Please. ]
[ She doesn't think. Can't think. He shifts his thigh and she jerks into the touch, rolling her hips once, twice, again, again, again. Little sounds spill out of her, hazy, increasingly breathless. And then there's one. A chirp, too pleading to be anything but instinctive, ]
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[ She tilts her head back and to the side, giving him access … as much access as can be given when she's very much wearing her scarf right now ]
"That'll show him who's boss" ...
[ tugs his mask tails gently, playfully, with her still-free hand ]
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Well, not without going from zero to a hundred. It would put me quite close to your tail.
[There's a lot churr at the tug, lightly scraping a prominent canine against her jaw, his other hand reaching to tug questioningly at her scarf.]
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I would die.
[ Goodbye cruel world, remember her fondly. She'd have died as she lived: being bullied by a dumb boy. ]
An' prob'ly fall flat on my face in the process.
[ She does nod, though, at the questioning tug. ]
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I'll put it on the list of things to try with biting that lovely spot between your wings.
[He tugs off he scarf, slowly as he teases her jaw and cheek with light brushes of his teeth.]
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About that ...
[ Another little tug, but then she leaves his mask alone in favor of trailing her nails up and down the back of his neck. ]
Remember when I told you about those satin PJs I was working on?
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[There is a soft sigh and deeper churr at the feeling of nails, a shiver going through him.]
If you wear them in front of me, you should be ready to teleport to Egg because I'm throwing you over my shoulder otherwise.
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W-Well, I was thinking ... now that they're finished, I could bring them over to Egg. Tonight, maybe. If you don't have plans.
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I'll need to see this evening. I'll text you, but it may have to be tomorrow.
[And then Things Happen.]
[He lets his breath trail down her neck.] As much as it pains me to wait to see you in them.
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S'okay if we have to wait. It'll build anticipation, you know? [ A firmer drag of her nails down, followed by a soothing stroke of her thumb. ] You can spend tonight thinking about me wearing pretty purple satin.
Your pretty p-purple - [ Her heart skips a beat. Or. Maybe several beats, and she shivers hard, dropping her shoulder and arching her neck just that bit further. ]
Just for you.
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Mine. [It's a low growl, neck arching a bit under her hand, a low groan in his throat.] I really hope she can wait until tomorrow. I've wanted to see you in those pajamas since you mentioned them. [He squeezes her hand.]
Want to ruin you in them.
[He opens his mouth, and lightly, incredibly lightly, drags his teeth against her neck.]
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Nevermind how close he is, nevermind the way he's touching her; the growl alone threatens to turn her legs to jelly. ]
Y — [ And then with the teeth. Teeth on her neck. Just the lightest, most gentle of scrapes. Her breath catches and holds, her whole body shuddering against his in one long ripple of tension. Nerves, want, anticipation, and sheer physical sensitivity are a hell of a combo. ]
[ exhales in a shaky gasp ]
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[ she tries again, ]
Y-Yeah. I. [ curls her hand around the back of his neck, anchoring herself. she nods, swallowing thickly. ] Yeah. Tulip.
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I know I usually like you chanting my name, but keep me up to date where you are. I'll stop if you're silent too long.
[His mouth trails down again, another slow, gentle drag of his teeth against her neck followed by a peppering of kisses. Hand squeezing her hers, other hand trailing over her side.]
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R-Right. Right, o-ohfuck! — okay — [ it's like that hamster on a keyboard feeling she gets when he has his hands in her feathers, but so much more?? ] Might. Probably. Need reminders.
[ She squeezes his hand back. Tries to steady herself. ]
I had - another idea. By the way. A question. About toys.
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[He presses his plastron against her, pinning her more firmly to the wall.]
Hm, what is it, love? [Nuzzling gently over her pulse point.]
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At the firmer press of his plastron against her.
She could move if she really needed to. It's firm, demanding, but she's only trapped for as long as she wants to be. (And, really, if he wasn't so close, who's to say she wouldn't have melted into a tingly, flustered puddle on the floor already?) ]
S-So, uhm. I don't, don't know if this is a thing, but, uh ... [ She hooks an ankle around one of his. ] It probably is, right? [ ... She says, forgetting to even say what the thing in question might be. ]
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You didn't say what the thing was, Chocochu. [He nibbles, gentle, brief over her pulse.] It probably does, but I could make it if someone hasn't been so inventive yet.
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[ She wants - ]
[ ... ]
Uhm. [ Right. What was she saying? ] Something ... something you could wear. So I'd get to, to feel what it's like, having something inside, have you moving over me — that could be inside you at, at the same time.
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[There's another slow scrape.] There's two headed dildos. Some strap one though that angle will need an adjustment. Usually for lesbians so there's definitely options in the ruins. We could go after your mark is fresh.
Flower, love. [Another light nibble.]
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She has a vivid imagination.
And knowing that it's going to be a while before they both feel confident about her trying to take him? Yeah. That imagination's been going hard when she hasn't been occupied with other things. ]
[ She almost loses the thread of what he's saying when she feels that next scrape of teeth, lips parting around shallow, panting breaths. It feels good. It feels like fizzy, fuzzing static, pin-prick trickles of fire and ice running through her veins. ]
[ Her fingers flex against the back of his neck, grip tightening, loosening, tightening again. Options in the ruins. Adjustments. They could go. ] Mn, mm'k- [ A nibble; her voice jumps, pitching higher, ] 'kay -
[ Wait, he asked for - ]
[ Flower. ]
T-Tulip? Tulip.
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Good girl. My good girl. [He nuzzles just under her chin.]
It would be like a preview of getting to be inside you. Help you get used to the pace in a way fucking your thighs can't do. We can even adjust sizes. Get you closer.
Sounds delightful.
[He opens his mouth, and presses his teeth to her neck. Not a scrape, just a more firm press to really feel his teeth, but before he pauses any pain.]
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[ Damn ]
[ The press of his thigh against her, firm enough to feel even through layers of fabric. She shifts, squirms, her hips twitching against him without her permission, and oh, oh fuck, she's already wet, isn't she? She is. Wanting — wanting —
A whimper of a whine escapes.
The firm press of sharp, sharp teeth short-circuits whatever's left of her brain; a short-sharp freefall drop that punches the air out of her. Reality stutters. When it fuzzes back in, she's clutching at him, an arm around his shoulders, a leg hooked around him. She absolutely would have fallen if he didn't have her pressed so securely between himself and the wall. ]
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[And then the way she clings to him after the press of teeth pulls a deep, rumbling churr against her neck, hands gripping her tightly in the surge of want.]
[He pulls his teeth away, kissing over the mark as he presses his thigh more firmly against her, shifting it slightly for that bit of friction.]
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[ His tightened grip alone is enough to make her moan, stuttering and soft but borderline wrecked. The slick-wet-need want in her scent spikes higher. More. She wants more. The push, the praise, the pain that isn't hurt. ]
[ Heat and friction and — ]
[ Please. ]
[ She doesn't think. Can't think. He shifts his thigh and she jerks into the touch, rolling her hips once, twice, again, again, again. Little sounds spill out of her, hazy, increasingly breathless. And then there's one. A chirp, too pleading to be anything but instinctive, ]
[ Yours ]
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1/3
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done
Re: done
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