wotanon | Dreamers After Dark (VII)

[ there's a brief startled sound, a soft grunt in the back of her throat, and then she's pressing into him to push him back against the wall, threading one arm around his shoulders, fingers combing into his hair. ]

[what wall, because honestly, that wall is pretty soft suddenly which. sure, let's go with it. it makes sense. walls are soft.

he opens his mouth to her, and at the same time, starts to push her jacket off of her shoulders]

[ yeah it’s whatever. maybe everyone just left, too. convenient. dream logic is helpful.

she shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it to the side, and slides her hands under his shirt, tugging it up, and nudges her thigh between his legs. ]

I still can’t believe you—didn’t think I liked you—

I have made it clear a bunch of times that I'd wreck your wedding if given the chance.

Can you blame--

[he pauses, and lifts his arms to make it easier to pull off his shirt.

which. it's fucking cold, so that gets an immediate reaction, pulling him closer to her. or rather, his hands fisting in her shirt, and then pulling the cloth apart.

he'll fix it later.]

-- me for being skeptical?

[ her chest is—"flat" is maybe the wrong word, since there's still muscle there, but it's not a womanly chest, is the point.

...although she's a little distracted by being incredibly flustered at the shirt ripping. ]

I mean—you're not going to ruin it since you're not going.

And—

[ she mouths at his neck, nipping at the skin— ]

I don't really care that much about things that could hurt me, you know?

[versus the soft curve of his chest, pressed against hers. still, his breath catches lightly when he feels the nipping. guess it's time to tangle his hand in her hair, and pull tightly.

exerting some control even though he's the one pinned under? under her. he drags his nails down her newly revealed skin, lightly marking as she speaks.]

That'd make two of us.

But I'm not wired for sharing. I wanna hate you.

Fuck—

[ she flushes, eyes half-lidded as her hair starts to unravel from the pull of his fingers, as his nails drag across her chest. ]

If you want to—there's plenty of reasons. But—

...there's probably something wrong with me, that it's easier for me to want to love people who hate me, rather than to try and hate them back.

[ and not really waiting for him to respond, she runs a hand up the inside of his thighs, brushing her knuckles between his legs. ]

Edited 2021-01-17 00:10 (UTC)

Probably.

[there's an involuntary movement when her fingers brush against him, and then he pushes forward anyway, shifting his hands to her shoulders, before pushing up, and kicking his feet to one side.

he'll fight her for top if he has to. the movement both languid and forceful.]

You should hate me.

[and then he punctuates that with a harsh bite to the nape of her neck, ignoring the tang of blood.]

I'd blow it all up if I could.

[ oh,

really, she buckles under that, with a low groan, and—the heat between her legs is really unbearable, her pants suddenly way too tight. he doesn't have to fight much, honestly, and she pulls him down against her. ]

I should—hate you, but I don't... you want to hate me, but—

You don't?

Don't get cocky.

[but he will start unbuckling her pants while he's on top, leaning back as much as she'll allow and letting his hands rub against her -- cock? with practiced experience.]

We're fighting over the same thing. And I've fucked up relationships I actually wanted to keep, for less.

[ there's definitely the telltale shape of an erection as he unbuckles her pants, and she inhales sharply as he rubs a hand over it; it's a very different feeling, although she keeps her head enough to start working his pants open. ]

Nnh—ah, that's...

I mean—gods, that's really distracting. But are we... really fighting?

We aren't not fighting.

[a brief pause]

Fuck, I don't know.

[does he know how to act like a woman during sex? the answer is no, so he keeps aggressing to hide that fact, his hot breath panting against the wet patch of skin he bit, and then moving lower to her collarbone. and then his tongue traces the patch of skin between her pecs as he keeps moving down]

[ i mean that checks out as feminine from her perspective, gestures at exalted, who even knows what a gender role is ]

"Fuck, I don't know" feels like the right answer—nnh—

[ she tugs his pants down, skims her hands up across his bare chest to cup at the curve of a breast, rub her thumb across the peak in circles. ]

[excuse him, that catches his breath for a second. and he huffs a laugh against her skin, once he does finally catch up. shit, that felt-- a lot more than ever before.

he felt so hot, his skin flushing with desire, and his thighs damp already.

it halts his slow march downward for a moment]

We-- should be.

[and then he pulls back, swinging a leg off to one side as he moves lower, his stroking insistent, needy.]

A-ah—

[ she combs her hands into his hair, twisting her fingers in tightly for something to hold onto, because—that's, that's a lot— ]

I mean, we—should do a lot of things, right.

[there's a non-committal sound at that, as his mouth slides over her cock. there's a brief moment of dissonance, but that fades pretty immediately.

he hums lightly, as his head starts to move along her length. like maybe, even in a dream, he has things he falls back on when he doesn't know what to say.

non-committal is one of those.]

J—hh, I—fuck—

[ what the fuck how does anyone with one of these normally manage to not just lose their entire mind when this happens,

she's propped up on her elbows, and her head lolls back as she gasps, hips twitching up toward his mouth. ]

...that's—that's unfair?

[good question he can probably answer when his mouth's not occupied? or she can ask nero later. but his fingernails dig into the side of her thighs in response.

just as a little reminder of how little he cares about fairness.]

Ah—

[ reflexively, she tugs hard on his hair, holding tight to what purchase she has, because, fuck. she halfway falls back against the ??bed??, and makes a low, very compromised-sounding grunt, forgetting entirely anything else she was about to say. ]

[good thing he has a hard head, huh? the amount of punches he's surely taken. but when he has to fight against her grip, there's a half laugh that rumbles from the back of his throat.

if they're fighting, he's counting this as a win.

it makes complete sense, after all, as he ignores her grip to relentlessly ]

[ if you'd asked her several minutes ago whether it was possible to suck someone off in a way that made them a jerk she would have said no and she would have been wrong,

she has to yank her fingers out of his hair to steady herself properly, gasping out— ]

Too much—I'm, hhh—can't, much more...

[she absolutely would've been wrong. he knows he's making a power play here, in the way that makes the most sense with how much he wants her right now. can't make anything easy, can he.

but now that he isn't counterbalancing against her pull, he leans in more aggressively, punctuating how little he cares about her warning.

just another soft 'hmm' in the back of his throat, vibrating against her]

Fuck, Jason—

[ honestly it's a miracle she can string that many words together right now; she comes, helplessly, spilling into his mouth with a slightly strangled noise. ]

[yeah, he knows how to give a blowjob. he's... you know. practiced. though, uh, not so much at the swallowing bit of it.

still, he pulls back, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, now that she's had her fun]

What was that?

What was what, what's that tone for, I should be asking you that question?

Dreamers After Dark (VII)

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