Got an offer for you here Daisy and I am open to negotiation and definitely open to refusal but you see my fucking brain is going ten thousand miles an hour and I am looking to silence it so here is the deal. I am wandering around this ship with a vibrator in my ass. Find me in the next hour and you can fuck me like you do not like me but there is going to be conversations about feelings after and I may in fact be choosing to cuddle.
About a minute later.
Public is not a dealbreaker for me but I am attempting to not be places the teens are.
And props to Crabb for being open to Erin borrowing the vibrator.
She'd joke there's easier ways to get her to have conversations about feelings but, well, that'd just be a fucking lie, wouldn't it, even had it felt tonally appropriate.
Last time I fucked you like I didn't like you, I busted that aura thing of yours. You want it dialled back from that, you've gotta be specific.
She does not point out how finding Erin in under an hour is so easy as to not be a challenge at all, for her. Erin knows that, so that's got to be the point, surely.
Calibrate your mind to railing a slut in a public bathroom and that is about where I am aiming at. You also owe Crabb the biggest solid of your mutual lives because I have a pass for little a mauling as a treat and to be honest breaking down my Aura and kissing a bit of my own blood off you sounds fucking amazing.
If I don't find you, we've got new problems. Like figuring out why the Hunt evacuated my body.
Really, she'd be concerned if she couldn't pick up Erin's trail and find her within the hour. She knows her scent so well by now it's as simple as breathing to catch it on the air and follow it slowly through the ship.
It's a slow, easy Hunt. Familiar, in many ways—there were nights like this, with women in bars that she drew in until she could have them in bathrooms or dark corners or alleyways. Less so, in others—nights that ended with the rare monster that got fucked up against a wall instead of having her throat ripped out, those were always faster, trickier.
Half of the time it ultimately takes her to catch up to her at the bar in Bobby's is drawn out deliberately for the sake of letting anticipation build—in herself, as much as in Erin. It's coiled tight like a spring in her gut, when she draws up behind Erin and nips at her ear, letting hot breath tickle skin as she speaks:
"Three choices," she hums, a low and rumbling sound, as an arm slinks around so she can shamelessly grope at one of Erin's breasts through her clothes, "against the bar, behind the bar, or a nice shadowy corner in the back."
It's not like Erin can't hear Daisy coming, but the bite on her pointed ear draws a shuddering, heated moan from her lips, makes her scoot her half-drank cocktail aside. The telltale buzz of the promised vibrator is loud enough that even a normal human would be able to hear it, and the scent of Erin's lust is...unmistakable.
Her hand goes over Daisy's. "Behind," Erin murmurs, barely. "...And feel free to finish my whiskey sour off of my body..."
That's the answer she expected to get, as much as the image of Erin bent over the bar... intrigues, her. The hum becomes one of acknowledgement, though she neither makes any move to encourage Erin to her feet nor stops groping, squeezing. Not just yet. "Hm. We'll see. Never have been a whiskey girl."
Her teeth catch at Erin's throat, unable to truly scrape skin with that damn aura still in the way, for now, but sharp all the same. Her other hand slips between her legs to drag claws along her inner thigh, as Daisy breathes in deep.
"Besides. Like smelling you." Another nip. "Now get up."
There's no underwear there under the skirt, Daisy; Erin's gone commando just for you. Her breath hitches again, and she stands slowly on shaky legs, excited and nervous and tense with desire that makes her Mantle enfold them both in its scents and powder. Erin leans back against her deadly lover, grinding her ass back against the Hunter. Her wings are a bit unavoidably in the fucking way, but Daisy can order her to get rid of them if she wants that. Erin kinda hopes Daisy gives her more orders, they're making her shiver in delight.
God she's looking forward to seeing what Daisy wants with her. Some light mauling, yes, but...if she had a better idea of the sorts of toys her lover's into, if any, she might have brought more.
"Are you just going to devour me?" Erin teases, her shaking breath making it hard to put on the brat routine. "Or...?""
"Still thinking." Standing makes the height difference trickier, of course, but she doesn't intend for that to be a problem for long. "Lot of things I could do. Ways to have you."
She tugs her away from her seat, around to the end of the bar where she can order Erin to turn around, wait for her to do so, then yank her down into a kiss full of teeth. Even that doesn't last long before there's an ankle hooked around Erin's, taking her leg out from under her to send her to the floor behind the bar.
That aura needs working down. No use being gentle.
Erin hits the ground hard, her Aura sparking from it even as the breath blows out of her lungs. But she's still feeling like a tease, and Daisy needs to be in the right mindset for this, so...
She lifts her skirt, showing off thighs glistening with wetness and the cable of the vibrator vanishing into her ass; she's got the control in a little inside pocket on the skirt. "Before you make too many decisions, look under the bar."
The strap that technically belongs to Crabb is there, along with lube. Erin takes that moment of distraction to kick her boots off.
"You know." She hums again, and there's a glint in her eye as her gaze trails back from the toy beneath the bar to the shine on Erin's skin. A smirk pulls at her lips, the sharp edges of teeth flashing as she talks, all slow and predatory. The Hunter that knows her prey is in her grasp and going nowhere. "Most sluts I've railed in bars don't come so prepared. Maybe I could've just bent you over the bar. Bet you wouldn't even've noticed someone catching us, once I was giving you what you wanted."
She undoes the buttons of her summery cardigan one by one. All that's underneath is a strappy black bralette.
(She's got us in one, that's why we came prepared.)
I don't think I can work that into our lightweight brat routine.
(...Well we can't just not reply!)
"When I'm offering prizes I prefer fabulous ones." Erin bites her lip, her attention locked on Daisy; a thin rivulet of blood flows down her jaw and neck. The Aura can't protect her from herself.
Daisy huffs a pleased little laugh and tosses the cardigan onto the bar—it's the closest to a do not disturb sign any passersby are going to get. She drops to her knees, crawling over Erin to kiss and lick up her throat, leaving smudged, bloody lip prints in her wake on her way to kiss Erin with passion that climbs quickly, eagerly, to violence.
Even the taste of that much of Erin's blood makes her shiver. Her teeth tug at Erin's lip, her claws dig sharply into Erin's thighs as she yanks them up to frame her own body between them. Chipping away at that protection between them, wants to feel Erin's blood beneath her claws, to carve her mark in that flawless skin until she heals.
When she pulls back, she simply says: "Get your tits out."
She lets herself melt. Erin gives back into the kiss, biting at Daisy with her own sharp teeth, but where her lover kisses, Erin shivers; where Daisy's claws go, Erin squirms. The Aura keeps flashing, keeping the cuts away, weakening, and when Daisy pulls back Erin's breathing is hard and heavy.
An order was given. But...
"When it breaks," Erin murmurs, even while she also Obeys. The buttons of her outfit's jacket are undone with indecent haste, though when she shrugs it off there's still the actual dress beneath."I'm gonna be...not okay. Like I was in the elevator. It's gonna hit me as a wave of exhaustion. 's part of why I was drinking, before, but you've got a small window for the light mauling, and, well...to maybe make me finish that cocktail so I can keep up."
An admission of vulnerability. A confession to Daisy that Erin has asked something of her that can compromise Erin's own safety.
Maybe, as well, asking permission; is that okay? That I'm asking you to give and to care?
Daisy watches, and she listens. Her tongue swipes over her own lips to catch any taste of Erin that remains. She swallows.
She remembers the elevator keenly, of course, but she hadn't cared to worry then. She'd torn into her with no care for safe practices, just bloodlust and lust and a fair helping of impotent rage. Things are... different, now.
She shifts. Presses a bare knee, exposed by in her shorts, between Erin's thighs as she leans over her. "I'm going to break this thing. Make you bleed for me. Make you drink your drink. And then I'm going to fuck you until you barely remember who's name you're moaning. And then— then we can do all your mushy stuff. Alright?"
She'll take care of her. Even if putting it like that is the only way she can make herself promise it.
Erin whispers, all unaware that she's speaking out loud right now, in tones of awe and wonder: "I love you so much."
An executive decision is made. Is this worth losing one of her good outfits for? Yes. Absolutely. At least partially, anyway; Erin's arms ripple with power, the muscles twitching beneath her skin with the power of Stone, and she seizes her own collar and rips.
She's not wearing a bra either, and that dress is done for. The skirt part can maybe be salvaged.
Erin whispers, and Daisy breathes. Mushy stuff later. Not right now. Definitely not right now.
The tearing of Erin's dress is a more than welcome distraction, puts that smug smirk back on Daisy's lips, almost makes it pull into a rare grin. Pleased. "You are feeling obedient."
Almost like a reward, that knee grinds up firm between her thighs. The tips of her claws trail up the newly exposed skin until she's sinking her fingers into the meat of Erin's breast, groping and kneading and not at all shy with those claws.
Her other hand is no shier, raking from her ass down her thigh.
Erin gasps and mewls, her Aura sparking, flickering -
- breaking. Just as it had in the elevator before. The sharp cry that Erin lets out is all pain, but her hand snatches at Daisy's wrist, gripping it tight as she sucks in deep breaths. Her ears twitch like mad things as she fights off the lethargy that comes with it. Don't pass out - passing out is the opposite of what she wants -
There it is. Daisy lets Erin clutch at her wrist as tightly as she needs to. Daisy also finally feels the soft skin beneath her claws give the way it's supposed to, sharp tips digging in and a shudder running through Daisy at the blood hitting the air.
She carves a shallow trail into Erin's thigh before she reaches up to bring the drink down, other hand gripping Erin's chin without pulling free from her grasp. Clawed thump catching her lip.
"Don't you pass out on me, Erin. Not gonna claw you up more or fuck you if you pass out."
Daisy's tongue on Erin's thigh is admirable fucking encouragement to stay awake. It drags a surprised gasp out of her, makes her squeeze her legs together involuntarily. "Goddamn," she breathes, through a tight throat and the haze of pain and exhaustion. "D-daisy - I - are you still okay?"
"I'm fine," she says, and means it. The blood pounding in her ears is more lust than anything else, and what isn't is under control. Her complicated emotions are on a tight leash. "Worry about yourself. Okay?"
She leans down to kiss Erin—if it can be called that, it's more teeth than lips—and when she withdraws, there's more blood staining her teeth and lips. She only half licks them clean.
She has to drag her hand from Erin's grip eventually, needs it to bring the glass to Erin's lips whilst her other cups her jaw to make sure she doesn't lean back too far and choke herself.
Erin clings to Daisy while she drinks; there's a desperate greed to it, an eagerness to stay up, to stay awake, yes, but also the pleasure of obeying, of being in Daisy's power entirely. When she comes up for air there's only the dregs of the glass left, her cocktail mixing in with the blood on her lips, chest heaving as she takes deep breaths.
On impulse, Erin pulls herself closer and buries her face in Daisy's neck, biting in turn; not an attack, but a gentle press, a mark with those sharp teeth. Mine. My sovereign. My love.
It's almost a shame, really, that Daisy heals so fucking fast. She knows the second she feels the bite at her skin that any sign will be gone by the time Erin pulls away, all but whatever blood Erin leaves from her own lips.
But Daisy's breath catches, all the same.
The glass is lazily discarded, skittering off somewhere with clinks and clunks. Daisy pushes Erin back down to the floor, not shy about letting her claws catch the skin of Erin's shoulder and chest. She teases a nipple between her fingers for only so long as it takes her to grab the strap, before she needs both her hands to get the thing properly situated.
Erin stares openly, panting through the pain and the pleasure; she touches her oozing wounds, feeling the heat of her blood, before her hands go to her breasts to squeeze and play and smear that red across them for Daisy's delight.
Some part of her wonders if Daisy will leave the toy in her ass or if Daisy intends on fucking Erin there until she can't think...
But a good girl doesn't talk while her domme is deciding, does she?
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hadnoright) wrote2022-11-01 01:56 am
Text, Early August [SMUT]
About a minute later.
Public is not a dealbreaker for me but I am attempting to not be places the teens are.
And props to Crabb for being open to Erin borrowing the vibrator.
no subject
You drive some very weird bargains, Erin.
She'd joke there's easier ways to get her to have conversations about feelings but, well, that'd just be a fucking lie, wouldn't it, even had it felt tonally appropriate.
Last time I fucked you like I didn't like you, I busted that aura thing of yours. You want it dialled back from that, you've gotta be specific.
She does not point out how finding Erin in under an hour is so easy as to not be a challenge at all, for her. Erin knows that, so that's got to be the point, surely.
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Well damn if the detective's giving them that much leeway, Erin really must need this...
Alright. A little mauling. You're on, then.
You get to pick the arena~
let it be known i rolled 'more risky' for this
If I don't find you, we've got new problems. Like figuring out why the Hunt evacuated my body.
Really, she'd be concerned if she couldn't pick up Erin's trail and find her within the hour. She knows her scent so well by now it's as simple as breathing to catch it on the air and follow it slowly through the ship.
It's a slow, easy Hunt. Familiar, in many ways—there were nights like this, with women in bars that she drew in until she could have them in bathrooms or dark corners or alleyways. Less so, in others—nights that ended with the rare monster that got fucked up against a wall instead of having her throat ripped out, those were always faster, trickier.
Half of the time it ultimately takes her to catch up to her at the bar in Bobby's is drawn out deliberately for the sake of letting anticipation build—in herself, as much as in Erin. It's coiled tight like a spring in her gut, when she draws up behind Erin and nips at her ear, letting hot breath tickle skin as she speaks:
"Three choices," she hums, a low and rumbling sound, as an arm slinks around so she can shamelessly grope at one of Erin's breasts through her clothes, "against the bar, behind the bar, or a nice shadowy corner in the back."
AHAHAHAHA
Her hand goes over Daisy's. "Behind," Erin murmurs, barely. "...And feel free to finish my whiskey sour off of my body..."
no subject
That's the answer she expected to get, as much as the image of Erin bent over the bar... intrigues, her. The hum becomes one of acknowledgement, though she neither makes any move to encourage Erin to her feet nor stops groping, squeezing. Not just yet. "Hm. We'll see. Never have been a whiskey girl."
Her teeth catch at Erin's throat, unable to truly scrape skin with that damn aura still in the way, for now, but sharp all the same. Her other hand slips between her legs to drag claws along her inner thigh, as Daisy breathes in deep.
"Besides. Like smelling you." Another nip. "Now get up."
no subject
God she's looking forward to seeing what Daisy wants with her. Some light mauling, yes, but...if she had a better idea of the sorts of toys her lover's into, if any, she might have brought more.
"Are you just going to devour me?" Erin teases, her shaking breath making it hard to put on the brat routine. "Or...?""
no subject
"Still thinking." Standing makes the height difference trickier, of course, but she doesn't intend for that to be a problem for long. "Lot of things I could do. Ways to have you."
She tugs her away from her seat, around to the end of the bar where she can order Erin to turn around, wait for her to do so, then yank her down into a kiss full of teeth. Even that doesn't last long before there's an ankle hooked around Erin's, taking her leg out from under her to send her to the floor behind the bar.
That aura needs working down. No use being gentle.
no subject
She lifts her skirt, showing off thighs glistening with wetness and the cable of the vibrator vanishing into her ass; she's got the control in a little inside pocket on the skirt. "Before you make too many decisions, look under the bar."
The strap that technically belongs to Crabb is there, along with lube. Erin takes that moment of distraction to kick her boots off.
no subject
"You know." She hums again, and there's a glint in her eye as her gaze trails back from the toy beneath the bar to the shine on Erin's skin. A smirk pulls at her lips, the sharp edges of teeth flashing as she talks, all slow and predatory. The Hunter that knows her prey is in her grasp and going nowhere. "Most sluts I've railed in bars don't come so prepared. Maybe I could've just bent you over the bar. Bet you wouldn't even've noticed someone catching us, once I was giving you what you wanted."
She undoes the buttons of her summery cardigan one by one. All that's underneath is a strappy black bralette.
no subject
I don't think I can work that into our lightweight brat routine.
(...Well we can't just not reply!)
"When I'm offering prizes I prefer fabulous ones." Erin bites her lip, her attention locked on Daisy; a thin rivulet of blood flows down her jaw and neck. The Aura can't protect her from herself.
no subject
Daisy huffs a pleased little laugh and tosses the cardigan onto the bar—it's the closest to a do not disturb sign any passersby are going to get. She drops to her knees, crawling over Erin to kiss and lick up her throat, leaving smudged, bloody lip prints in her wake on her way to kiss Erin with passion that climbs quickly, eagerly, to violence.
Even the taste of that much of Erin's blood makes her shiver. Her teeth tug at Erin's lip, her claws dig sharply into Erin's thighs as she yanks them up to frame her own body between them. Chipping away at that protection between them, wants to feel Erin's blood beneath her claws, to carve her mark in that flawless skin until she heals.
When she pulls back, she simply says: "Get your tits out."
no subject
An order was given. But...
"When it breaks," Erin murmurs, even while she also Obeys. The buttons of her outfit's jacket are undone with indecent haste, though when she shrugs it off there's still the actual dress beneath."I'm gonna be...not okay. Like I was in the elevator. It's gonna hit me as a wave of exhaustion. 's part of why I was drinking, before, but you've got a small window for the light mauling, and, well...to maybe make me finish that cocktail so I can keep up."
An admission of vulnerability. A confession to Daisy that Erin has asked something of her that can compromise Erin's own safety.
Maybe, as well, asking permission; is that okay? That I'm asking you to give and to care?
no subject
Daisy watches, and she listens. Her tongue swipes over her own lips to catch any taste of Erin that remains. She swallows.
She remembers the elevator keenly, of course, but she hadn't cared to worry then. She'd torn into her with no care for safe practices, just bloodlust and lust and a fair helping of impotent rage. Things are... different, now.
She shifts. Presses a bare knee, exposed by in her shorts, between Erin's thighs as she leans over her. "I'm going to break this thing. Make you bleed for me. Make you drink your drink. And then I'm going to fuck you until you barely remember who's name you're moaning. And then— then we can do all your mushy stuff. Alright?"
She'll take care of her. Even if putting it like that is the only way she can make herself promise it.
no subject
An executive decision is made. Is this worth losing one of her good outfits for? Yes. Absolutely. At least partially, anyway; Erin's arms ripple with power, the muscles twitching beneath her skin with the power of Stone, and she seizes her own collar and rips.
She's not wearing a bra either, and that dress is done for. The skirt part can maybe be salvaged.
no subject
Erin whispers, and Daisy breathes. Mushy stuff later. Not right now. Definitely not right now.
The tearing of Erin's dress is a more than welcome distraction, puts that smug smirk back on Daisy's lips, almost makes it pull into a rare grin. Pleased. "You are feeling obedient."
Almost like a reward, that knee grinds up firm between her thighs. The tips of her claws trail up the newly exposed skin until she's sinking her fingers into the meat of Erin's breast, groping and kneading and not at all shy with those claws.
Her other hand is no shier, raking from her ass down her thigh.
no subject
- breaking. Just as it had in the elevator before. The sharp cry that Erin lets out is all pain, but her hand snatches at Daisy's wrist, gripping it tight as she sucks in deep breaths. Her ears twitch like mad things as she fights off the lethargy that comes with it. Don't pass out - passing out is the opposite of what she wants -
no subject
There it is. Daisy lets Erin clutch at her wrist as tightly as she needs to. Daisy also finally feels the soft skin beneath her claws give the way it's supposed to, sharp tips digging in and a shudder running through Daisy at the blood hitting the air.
She carves a shallow trail into Erin's thigh before she reaches up to bring the drink down, other hand gripping Erin's chin without pulling free from her grasp. Clawed thump catching her lip.
"Don't you pass out on me, Erin. Not gonna claw you up more or fuck you if you pass out."
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(Bit late to ask if this is too much.)
It's never too late, head voice.
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"I'm fine," she says, and means it. The blood pounding in her ears is more lust than anything else, and what isn't is under control. Her complicated emotions are on a tight leash. "Worry about yourself. Okay?"
She leans down to kiss Erin—if it can be called that, it's more teeth than lips—and when she withdraws, there's more blood staining her teeth and lips. She only half licks them clean.
She has to drag her hand from Erin's grip eventually, needs it to bring the glass to Erin's lips whilst her other cups her jaw to make sure she doesn't lean back too far and choke herself.
no subject
On impulse, Erin pulls herself closer and buries her face in Daisy's neck, biting in turn; not an attack, but a gentle press, a mark with those sharp teeth. Mine. My sovereign. My love.
no subject
It's almost a shame, really, that Daisy heals so fucking fast. She knows the second she feels the bite at her skin that any sign will be gone by the time Erin pulls away, all but whatever blood Erin leaves from her own lips.
But Daisy's breath catches, all the same.
The glass is lazily discarded, skittering off somewhere with clinks and clunks. Daisy pushes Erin back down to the floor, not shy about letting her claws catch the skin of Erin's shoulder and chest. She teases a nipple between her fingers for only so long as it takes her to grab the strap, before she needs both her hands to get the thing properly situated.
no subject
Some part of her wonders if Daisy will leave the toy in her ass or if Daisy intends on fucking Erin there until she can't think...
But a good girl doesn't talk while her domme is deciding, does she?
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