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?
Daisy does consider, for a moment, stripping out of her shorts, too, but in the end she doesn't bother. The strap is settled overtop her clothes. All she's removed this entire time is the cardigan still marking their presence on the bar.
She also considers, for a moment, removing the toy. Nimble fingers even slip to tease at it a little, as if she's going to, whilst her other hand is busy making use of the lube. But, ultimately, the fingers drift away, and Daisy effortlessly lifts Erin's hips from the floor just enough to give herself a better angle to fuck into her.
No words, just a low, almost curious little hum and keen eyes admiring the view.
Erin whines, trying to decide if she's too proud to beg. Her legs wrap around Daisy, her hips twitch; she's too keenly aware of how being behind the bar constrains her wings, how she's using them to help keep herself lifted. She needs it, so badly. So, so badly -
Daisy's lips quirk into a downright smug little smirk with just a flash of teeth. "Didn't even have to ask."
She doesn't make Erin wait longer than that. She thrusts into her, dragging Erin's body back to meet it with a sharp grip on her ass and hip. The whole time watching Erin with an odd mix of that predatory awareness and a much more human warmth.
Erin bites her lip, trying not to cry out or scream, to keep the faint modicum of privacy in case anyone is walking nearby -
And she fails. When Daisy's hips meet her, Erin's hands scrabble against Daisy's arms before clutching at her wrists, and she moans her lover's name, all resistance and self-restraint melting away. Here, right now, bleeding from all those tiny wounds and bereft of her Aura, Erin feels completely safe. Daisy will take care of her. She can let go.
Daisy never has done subtlety well, anyway. The volume, if anything, makes that smirk on her face even smugger, more pleased with herself, than it already was.
She sets her pace, knows well how to use enough of her strength to wreck someone without actually breaking them (knows well how much further she could always push it with some compared to others, remembers well the other monsters that walked away from Hunts alive and satisfied and aching). Knows the feeling of Erin's skin beneath her hands, knows the pounding beat of Erin's heart, knows the scent of her.
(There's only been one other woman she's known like this, only one other woman that she wanted beneath her as more than a conquest, only one other that the care they needed wasn't a fucking chore to tick off so she could get off.
Daisy's fingers twitch, and it's damn fucking lucky that she's aware enough of her own actions to keep her hands far, far from Erin's hair when for a fleeting moment, all she can imagine is the feeling of Basira's between her fingers.)
When one hand slips away from its hold on Erin's hip, she doesn't shake away Erin's grip, she... adjusts it. Locks their fingers together as she leans over Erin and guides the arm away so she's holding it loosely against the ground above her head. Teeth catch at Erin's lip, then her jaw, then her throat. And never once does Daisy's rhythm falter.
Erin squeezes Daisy's hand hard, trembling, so close. She gasps at the scrape of her lover's teeth, legs squeezing hard, every touch of those teeth making her buck, writhe -
And there is a barrier again, snapping into place beneath Daisy's teeth. Erin sucks in a deep breath of surprise, screaming something that might be - is - "Not yet, no!", but the sheer shock of her Aura's return is entirely too much for her poor body. She tips over her edge, shaking beneath Daisy as she cums hard.
Whether or not Daisy regrets leaving her clothes on for Erin to squirt on is up to Daisy, really. Erin is busy clinging to Daisy and breathlessly mumbling apologies every time she gets enough air to speak.
It's enough to startle Daisy, the sudden barrier against her bite, but not enough to stop her. She squeezes Erin's hand tight, other arm slipping to wrap around her properly as she cums and Daisy slows, bit by bit, to a stop.
She really doesn't care about the mess. The cardigan is long enough to cover it whenever they have to pass through the rest of the ship.
And in this moment, she's much more focused on hushing Erin's apologies, on nuzzling her face affectionately against Erin's throat and jaw. "It's alright, Erin. I still got you."
Slowly, Erin's breathing evens out, and then her body. She clings to Daisy, nestling against the hunter, warm, safe. Still a little ashamed that she ended like that, but surprise will do that to you, won't it?
At long last she nuzzles into Daisy's neck, leaving a soft kiss. She's going to ask, even though the answer is almost always no, even though she's spent and Done: "Do you want me to touch you, my sovereign?"
"Not this time," Daisy rumbles, already slowly moving to withdraw and get the harness off so it's out of the way. She finds the control for the vibrator and flips it off, carefully removes it. Sets both aside on a scrap of material from Erin's dramatic clothing removal, earlier, so they're not on the floor.
She reaches up into the bar to get napkins, only to look back and see the Aura is already doing its thing to the wounds. Still, she keeps some for cleaning up the blood it can't get rid of.
"Like I'm not thinking. Perfect..." Erin reaches up, brushing Daisy's face with her fingertips, her expression just so, so fond. "You're amazing, my sovereign, and...thank you."
Daisy's head tilts just faintly towards the touch, before, setting bloodied napkins aside, she shifts to instead settle beside Erin, her own touch tracing idly over where cuts used to be. "You wanted— feelings stuff. You able to do that without thinking?"
"Don't need to think. Know it like I know the reach of my sword and the sound of your footsteps, like I know when you're acting tough 'cause you're actually interested and when you're acting tough because you need me to stop." Erin breathes in deep, still nuzzling, enjoying Daisy's light touch, the scent of her body and the blood here in the bar. "...I know we're complicated, and you don't like Crabb, and there's shit that's gone down and will go down and you don't like being here and -" Breathe in, breathe out. In. Out. "And you're worth it. I wanna call you mine, my sovereign. Can I?"
Daisy draws in a shaky breath, one that quakes just as much when she releases it. She doesn't know how to do this; it's like forcing an atrophied muscle through the steps of rehabilitation even when it burns like nothing else. She doesn't know how people give their hearts out, how they can stand placing their still-beating bastions of weakness in another person's hands and not expect them to crush it right there in front of you, so you can watch the blood seep between their fingers.
Only once has she ever taken the chance. Basira had her heart in her pocket before Daisy ever told her it was there. It lived there, it went where she went, it thrummed and thrived... and then it drowned in Basira's blood as Jenny slit her throat. And then she was home and, like every other part of Daisy, it withered in the coffin and never truly recovered.
It still feels as if it's there, sometimes. Or as if Basira's hands are buried in her chest, cradling her heart where it mourns.
But then there have been other hands, too. Buried just as deep, as if seeking the soul that must be in there somewhere amidst the grime.
It feels like being torn apart. It feels like being reborn. It feels like dying a thousand different ways.
"I—" she chokes out, not even sure how long she's been silent. "I-I don't know— I-I don't know if I know how."
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hadnoright) wrote2022-11-01 01:56 am
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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."
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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- 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 -
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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Daisy does consider, for a moment, stripping out of her shorts, too, but in the end she doesn't bother. The strap is settled overtop her clothes. All she's removed this entire time is the cardigan still marking their presence on the bar.
She also considers, for a moment, removing the toy. Nimble fingers even slip to tease at it a little, as if she's going to, whilst her other hand is busy making use of the lube. But, ultimately, the fingers drift away, and Daisy effortlessly lifts Erin's hips from the floor just enough to give herself a better angle to fuck into her.
No words, just a low, almost curious little hum and keen eyes admiring the view.
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"Please," Erin begs. "Pleaseplease -"
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Daisy's lips quirk into a downright smug little smirk with just a flash of teeth. "Didn't even have to ask."
She doesn't make Erin wait longer than that. She thrusts into her, dragging Erin's body back to meet it with a sharp grip on her ass and hip. The whole time watching Erin with an odd mix of that predatory awareness and a much more human warmth.
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And she fails. When Daisy's hips meet her, Erin's hands scrabble against Daisy's arms before clutching at her wrists, and she moans her lover's name, all resistance and self-restraint melting away. Here, right now, bleeding from all those tiny wounds and bereft of her Aura, Erin feels completely safe. Daisy will take care of her. She can let go.
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Daisy never has done subtlety well, anyway. The volume, if anything, makes that smirk on her face even smugger, more pleased with herself, than it already was.
She sets her pace, knows well how to use enough of her strength to wreck someone without actually breaking them (knows well how much further she could always push it with some compared to others, remembers well the other monsters that walked away from Hunts alive and satisfied and aching). Knows the feeling of Erin's skin beneath her hands, knows the pounding beat of Erin's heart, knows the scent of her.
(There's only been one other woman she's known like this, only one other woman that she wanted beneath her as more than a conquest, only one other that the care they needed wasn't a fucking chore to tick off so she could get off.
Daisy's fingers twitch, and it's damn fucking lucky that she's aware enough of her own actions to keep her hands far, far from Erin's hair when for a fleeting moment, all she can imagine is the feeling of Basira's between her fingers.)
When one hand slips away from its hold on Erin's hip, she doesn't shake away Erin's grip, she... adjusts it. Locks their fingers together as she leans over Erin and guides the arm away so she's holding it loosely against the ground above her head. Teeth catch at Erin's lip, then her jaw, then her throat. And never once does Daisy's rhythm falter.
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And there is a barrier again, snapping into place beneath Daisy's teeth. Erin sucks in a deep breath of surprise, screaming something that might be - is - "Not yet, no!", but the sheer shock of her Aura's return is entirely too much for her poor body. She tips over her edge, shaking beneath Daisy as she cums hard.
Whether or not Daisy regrets leaving her clothes on for Erin to squirt on is up to Daisy, really. Erin is busy clinging to Daisy and breathlessly mumbling apologies every time she gets enough air to speak.
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It's enough to startle Daisy, the sudden barrier against her bite, but not enough to stop her. She squeezes Erin's hand tight, other arm slipping to wrap around her properly as she cums and Daisy slows, bit by bit, to a stop.
She really doesn't care about the mess. The cardigan is long enough to cover it whenever they have to pass through the rest of the ship.
And in this moment, she's much more focused on hushing Erin's apologies, on nuzzling her face affectionately against Erin's throat and jaw. "It's alright, Erin. I still got you."
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At long last she nuzzles into Daisy's neck, leaving a soft kiss. She's going to ask, even though the answer is almost always no, even though she's spent and Done: "Do you want me to touch you, my sovereign?"
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"Not this time," Daisy rumbles, already slowly moving to withdraw and get the harness off so it's out of the way. She finds the control for the vibrator and flips it off, carefully removes it. Sets both aside on a scrap of material from Erin's dramatic clothing removal, earlier, so they're not on the floor.
She reaches up into the bar to get napkins, only to look back and see the Aura is already doing its thing to the wounds. Still, she keeps some for cleaning up the blood it can't get rid of.
"Mm. How're you feeling?"
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Daisy's head tilts just faintly towards the touch, before, setting bloodied napkins aside, she shifts to instead settle beside Erin, her own touch tracing idly over where cuts used to be. "You wanted— feelings stuff. You able to do that without thinking?"
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Daisy draws in a shaky breath, one that quakes just as much when she releases it. She doesn't know how to do this; it's like forcing an atrophied muscle through the steps of rehabilitation even when it burns like nothing else. She doesn't know how people give their hearts out, how they can stand placing their still-beating bastions of weakness in another person's hands and not expect them to crush it right there in front of you, so you can watch the blood seep between their fingers.
Only once has she ever taken the chance. Basira had her heart in her pocket before Daisy ever told her it was there. It lived there, it went where she went, it thrummed and thrived... and then it drowned in Basira's blood as Jenny slit her throat. And then she was home and, like every other part of Daisy, it withered in the coffin and never truly recovered.
It still feels as if it's there, sometimes. Or as if Basira's hands are buried in her chest, cradling her heart where it mourns.
But then there have been other hands, too. Buried just as deep, as if seeking the soul that must be in there somewhere amidst the grime.
It feels like being torn apart. It feels like being reborn. It feels like dying a thousand different ways.
"I—" she chokes out, not even sure how long she's been silent. "I-I don't know— I-I don't know if I know how."
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