"Sure is." Erin folds them close to her body so she'll fit through the door and then steps in, right up on Daisy, holding her close with a little kiss on the nose. "I didn't install these, they're a fixture...so I guess sexy talk has to include 'em."
Not one to fail to match push with push, Daisy presses into Erin's arms and stretches up part-way instead of her having to lean the whole distance. "Not like we could just ignore them. I've never actually fucked anyone with wings. Funnily enough."
"Well if I catch you seasoning me with a secret blend of eleven herbs and spices this relationship is over." Is that a KFC joke? What are you, the police? Gently does Erin walk 'em both into the room so she can pull the door shut behind her and ensure there's no photos, just like she promised Crabb. The click of the latch gets a feral grin. "So...you been having any ideas on stopping somewhere short of Bride of Dracula?"
"Maybe." A claw draws an idle line along Erin's shoulder, the Aura beneath it obviously still intact. Her hearing already tunes in on the sound of Erin's pulse. "If I don't break the forcefield, overdoing it's not exactly possible. Is it. Which is a shame, really, but if we're stopping short."
It's not exactly a sure thing that if she makes Erin bleed she'll be able to restrain herself. Especially not lately. Not after losing to Siffleur, too.
"Which then gets into the question of how you want it, my sovereign." Erin kisses Daisy's neck, scraping it with her teeth to emphasize the point. Her heart's pounding, excited, ready. "Something tells me if I offer to pin you to the bed and wring you dry you're not exactly on board."
"Figured. You don't belong in knots anyway, even if I could just pick you up and carry you everywhere..." A little nip, a little bite. "...Half-tempted just to wrap you in the wings and stick my hand down your pants, bein' perfectly honest..."
"How is that not a kind of restraint? That sounds very. Tight." That's not really the right word, but she's picturing being surrounded on all sides by the dark shroud of those wings and it's...
It would be a good time to mention the whole 'I spent eight months having the life squeezed out of me by the embodiment of claustrophobia'. Except, of course, she doesn't.
A pause. The pause of a woman who is, honestly, not actually used to having to make that clear because her role in bed has usually been a given. Hook-ups have always been a Hunt of their own. "...yeah, might be. Look, I did tell you what most of my hook-ups were like. Sort of."
Erin slips around Daisy, deeper into the cabin, mainly so she can shed her tank top. There's no bra beneath it; she hadn't wanted to bother. "But I do have a couple ground rules. Big one's my hair - do not. Touch my hair, please. Any fun we're having will stop quite fast. Outside of that...you plan on playing with restraints on me? I'm not not into it, I just wanna set expectations."
Daisy lacks any amount of shame in letting her eyes trail over the skin Erin exposes. "...no hair. Alright."
That's... going to be more of an adjustment for her than it has, perhaps, been for others, because there's muscle memory there. Tied not just to simple hook-ups, but to Basira. But she'll restrain it, somehow.
"Restraints... maybe not this time. Not like I have anything like rope or cuffs." ...she pulls a face at herself, for a moment, and corrects to, "...well, rope." Cuffs or similar would be. A bad idea. For her. Probably. "Not sure I'm even strong enough without."
It's hard to say. Her strength is still unnatural, but it's weakening the longer she goes without a successful Hunt. Could she even hold Erin down if she tried? She's not sure.
Erin's mischievous smile becomes a thoughtful expression. She chews her lip for a moment and then decides to just say it: "Daisy...you sure you're into it? 'm ready but not like, if you aren't."
For once Erin isn't deliberately daring a lover to get a rise out of them but that might happen anyway.
There's a flash of confusion in her face. "—what am I doing to make you ask that?"
She can recognise that she's not exactly diving right in the way they did back in the elevator, but she was firmly under the impression that was rather the point. Not rushing. Actually thinking this through. It's... less exciting, that way, perhaps, and not something she associates with casual sex, but it doesn't mean she's not into it.
(It may, also, be the first time she's really had to think about how sex will be in this scrawny, damaged body, but Erin's the one who has fucked her like this, before. It shouldn't matter.)
"I dunno! You seem unsure and I'm overly cautious about that because as much as I hate this fact these -" Erin squeezes her breasts, "- actually are magic in a way that can cause consent troubles. Not passively but like - you know - fuckin' -"
Long sound of frustration. Erin drops her hands. "Maybe I'm feeling awkward myself."
"You were the one talking about us not. You know. Overdoing it. Or whatever!" She throws her arms up a bit, then covers her face to groan. "I don't usually have to do. Slow. Or— careful. I push people against walls, or— or to their knees, or wherever. I'm a Hunter. I pursue. I—"
Honestly don't usually go back for more all that often.
"—you're hot, I want to fuck you, I'm just trying to do what I thought was part of the deal!"
Erin's wings flutter nervously. Deep breath, you got this. "...Listen, it's been. Ten thousand years - not literally - since I was - everyone here's been inexperienced and if we're laying cards on the table I'm a bit scared I won't measure up, alright?"
"Erin. I'm not going to be— comparing you to old one-night-stands, or. Or whatever. Whoever. I don't have some. Rolodex of top ten best hook-ups or." That is an immensely stupid sounding thing to say and it makes her snort at herself for a moment. "Nevermind that, but. Look. I'm. Rusty. Probably. Not like I was getting any when I was living out of a dusty old archive."
Oh that's an opening if Erin's ever heard one. Her voice is full of teasing challenge: "No? No pinning the junior researchers to their desks until they have to go home 'ill'? I'm shocked, my sovereign."
A flap of those wings. Erin hooks her pants with her thumbs.
When her primary associations with the archives are mostly people she absolutely does not want to fuck, that doesn't have quite the impact Erin might be aiming for—her nose crinkles, faintly, at the immediate thoughts it brings to mind—but in a roundabout way it might still work. She has to get the wrong associations out of her head, after all.
Daisy rolls her eyes and crosses over to Erin, reaching up to hook her fingers under her chin and tug at her bottom lip lightly with her thumb. "Maybe they weren't my type."
Her other hand seeks out Erin's heartbeat. Claws drawing over skin even if they can't actually harm it.
That heart is pounding. There's a nervous flutter, yes, a taste of fear not of Daisy but of herself, but Erin's also so very excited; face flushed, breathing quickening. She chews her lip before deciding her mother didn't raise a bitch and nipping at Daisy's thumb with those sharp teeth.
She doesn't want to spoil the moment by saying something stupid.
Better. She likes the sound and feel of that heart pounding away, she likes the little sting of sharp teeth catching her skin. And though she has to remind herself not to just grab Erin's hair to draw her down, instead coaxing her with that hand and stretching the rest of the way, she takes that cue to kiss her, graceless and sharp on purpose.
At the same time, she urges her backwards towards the bed, hand still on her chest and stepping into her.
Erin falls back onto the bed, breath quickening, kissing Daisy back with a meek submissiveness. Her wings flap in vain for balance, but her Mantle is full of smoky crowns.
"Should I strip?" she teases, brattishly. "Or are you going to make me dip across the hall to my room naked after you tear my clothes off?"
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hadnoright) wrote2022-11-01 01:56 am
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It's a matter of maybe three minutes before Erin's knocking on Daisy's door, with her backless tank top and an expression of absolute mischief.
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Daisy rolls her eyes to herself, christ the others fuss a lot, don't they? She throws off a: Fine I won't snitch. and then waits for the knock.
Upon opening the door, there's a few stark blinks as she takes in the whole. Everything. "...always something new with you, huh?"
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Not one to fail to match push with push, Daisy presses into Erin's arms and stretches up part-way instead of her having to lean the whole distance. "Not like we could just ignore them. I've never actually fucked anyone with wings. Funnily enough."
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"Maybe." A claw draws an idle line along Erin's shoulder, the Aura beneath it obviously still intact. Her hearing already tunes in on the sound of Erin's pulse. "If I don't break the forcefield, overdoing it's not exactly possible. Is it. Which is a shame, really, but if we're stopping short."
It's not exactly a sure thing that if she makes Erin bleed she'll be able to restrain herself. Especially not lately. Not after losing to Siffleur, too.
Things she should say aloud but doesn't.
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"Mm." A low noise, a slow breath. "You try restrain me and, forcefield or not? You lose a limb."
She wouldn't get that far, in the state she is, they both know it. But the threat doesn't have to be viable to make a point.
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"How is that not a kind of restraint? That sounds very. Tight." That's not really the right word, but she's picturing being surrounded on all sides by the dark shroud of those wings and it's...
It would be a good time to mention the whole 'I spent eight months having the life squeezed out of me by the embodiment of claustrophobia'. Except, of course, she doesn't.
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The question is light, welcoming - even a little eager.
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A pause. The pause of a woman who is, honestly, not actually used to having to make that clear because her role in bed has usually been a given. Hook-ups have always been a Hunt of their own. "...yeah, might be. Look, I did tell you what most of my hook-ups were like. Sort of."
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Erin slips around Daisy, deeper into the cabin, mainly so she can shed her tank top. There's no bra beneath it; she hadn't wanted to bother. "But I do have a couple ground rules. Big one's my hair - do not. Touch my hair, please. Any fun we're having will stop quite fast. Outside of that...you plan on playing with restraints on me? I'm not not into it, I just wanna set expectations."
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Daisy lacks any amount of shame in letting her eyes trail over the skin Erin exposes. "...no hair. Alright."
That's... going to be more of an adjustment for her than it has, perhaps, been for others, because there's muscle memory there. Tied not just to simple hook-ups, but to Basira. But she'll restrain it, somehow.
"Restraints... maybe not this time. Not like I have anything like rope or cuffs." ...she pulls a face at herself, for a moment, and corrects to, "...well, rope." Cuffs or similar would be. A bad idea. For her. Probably. "Not sure I'm even strong enough without."
It's hard to say. Her strength is still unnatural, but it's weakening the longer she goes without a successful Hunt. Could she even hold Erin down if she tried? She's not sure.
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For once Erin isn't deliberately daring a lover to get a rise out of them but that might happen anyway.
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There's a flash of confusion in her face. "—what am I doing to make you ask that?"
She can recognise that she's not exactly diving right in the way they did back in the elevator, but she was firmly under the impression that was rather the point. Not rushing. Actually thinking this through. It's... less exciting, that way, perhaps, and not something she associates with casual sex, but it doesn't mean she's not into it.
(It may, also, be the first time she's really had to think about how sex will be in this scrawny, damaged body, but Erin's the one who has fucked her like this, before. It shouldn't matter.)
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Long sound of frustration. Erin drops her hands. "Maybe I'm feeling awkward myself."
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"You were the one talking about us not. You know. Overdoing it. Or whatever!" She throws her arms up a bit, then covers her face to groan. "I don't usually have to do. Slow. Or— careful. I push people against walls, or— or to their knees, or wherever. I'm a Hunter. I pursue. I—"
Honestly don't usually go back for more all that often.
"—you're hot, I want to fuck you, I'm just trying to do what I thought was part of the deal!"
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Erin's wings flutter nervously. Deep breath, you got this. "...Listen, it's been. Ten thousand years - not literally - since I was - everyone here's been inexperienced and if we're laying cards on the table I'm a bit scared I won't measure up, alright?"
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"Erin. I'm not going to be— comparing you to old one-night-stands, or. Or whatever. Whoever. I don't have some. Rolodex of top ten best hook-ups or." That is an immensely stupid sounding thing to say and it makes her snort at herself for a moment. "Nevermind that, but. Look. I'm. Rusty. Probably. Not like I was getting any when I was living out of a dusty old archive."
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A flap of those wings. Erin hooks her pants with her thumbs.
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When her primary associations with the archives are mostly people she absolutely does not want to fuck, that doesn't have quite the impact Erin might be aiming for—her nose crinkles, faintly, at the immediate thoughts it brings to mind—but in a roundabout way it might still work. She has to get the wrong associations out of her head, after all.
Daisy rolls her eyes and crosses over to Erin, reaching up to hook her fingers under her chin and tug at her bottom lip lightly with her thumb. "Maybe they weren't my type."
Her other hand seeks out Erin's heartbeat. Claws drawing over skin even if they can't actually harm it.
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She doesn't want to spoil the moment by saying something stupid.
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Better. She likes the sound and feel of that heart pounding away, she likes the little sting of sharp teeth catching her skin. And though she has to remind herself not to just grab Erin's hair to draw her down, instead coaxing her with that hand and stretching the rest of the way, she takes that cue to kiss her, graceless and sharp on purpose.
At the same time, she urges her backwards towards the bed, hand still on her chest and stepping into her.
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"Should I strip?" she teases, brattishly. "Or are you going to make me dip across the hall to my room naked after you tear my clothes off?"
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let's just pretend that said pants not tank top lmao
Time is fluid here
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