Private RP Blog

I write shit.

[that-bog-bitch]

He'd spent so long in captivity that he'd forgotten what this felt like. The sound of her, taste of her, awakened something in him; thick rumbles rising from his chest as he adjusted himself to please her. One might have thought him in his element, fingers curling expertly against areas of her muscle that were more sensitive than the rest. For him, it was just perception. He could sense every hitch in breath, and with her body trembling the way it was the pleasure she felt was evident enough. He cared little for who heard them, in fact he oddly craved it, the prospect of them hearing the woman being claimed only fuelling him more. They would know by the end of this night who the woman belonged to, and who he belonged to in turn. There was no shame to be felt in that.

The giant's weight shifted, fingers withdrawing the moment her climax was reached. A soft part to her rear instructed her to lean on him, a thin yet strong arm looping itself around her waist. He aimed to keep her steady, lowering her as he eased himself back down so that she was comfortably sitting atop him. With her back still taught to his chest, his fingers delved back down, caressing their way up her thighs before finding that sensitive bundle of nerves he'd been teasing with his tongue mere moments prior. Gentle kisses peppered the side of her neck, the callouses on his fingers providing her with friction enough.

Much like her, he was nothing short of addicted. He'd watch her closely, beginning to circle her clit with her fingers while his arousal nestled itself between her legs. They had plenty of time, more time than either of them needed, the hand still resting atop her waist travelling up to fondle her breasts.

[private-rp]

She was at his mercy, body limp against his touch and mind reeling from the feel of his fingers alone. She raised her hands to hold onto the arm that wrapped around her, legs shaking as he guided her back towards him. She turned her head, flashing him a smile with a pleased him and stealing a quick kiss from him before she nestled against his chest. Her legs spread over his, the warmth of his arousal caressing the flesh of her inner thighs as his hand began to trail up them. Her breath hitched in preparation, core clenching with each passing second he drew closer.

A gentle moan escaped her, hips twitching against his fingers as it met with her clit; the small bud sensitive still from her lingering orgasm. Her head tilted, exposing more of her neck to his wandering lips; the hair of his beard tickling her skin and drawing from her a pleasant hum. She hadn't expected this, for him to handle her with such confidence and precision. But she was living for it, every touch of his hands and kiss to her skin drawing her further under his spell.

As he began to fondle at her breasts, a pleased sigh came as she lay her head back against his chest, hips rolling against his hand with huffed and echoing moans. Jade eyes watched his hands explore her body, touching her everywhere she had longed for him to. Tentatively, she drew one of her own hands from his arm, looping up so she might cup his cheek and pull him into a kiss. The other travelled down, caressing the back of his working hand before shifting past to trail a single finger up, then down, what parts of his length she could reach.

[that-bog-bitch]

There was little pleasure to be gained from a cerulean's mating cycle, the focus placed almost entirely on the fertilisation of eggs and the act of bonding with their partners. It had never crossed any of their minds that it could be used for something different, and if there was one thing indulging with her that night had taught him it was that they might not have known their own anatomy as well as they'd thought. Even now, as he glanced upon his partner with hooded lids, pleasure still ravaged him. Try as he might, he couldn't get his body to stop trembling either.

Amazing...

Rovender's lips parted, only for his brows to furrow mere moments later. His brain felt scrambled, words befitting a situation like this eluding him. He wanted to tell her how well she'd done, how much he'd enjoyed himself in the process, but the moment her fingers lifted and she wiped what bits of him were missed he seemed to stop breathing entirely. He could feel his arousal twitch, though he was far from ready to continue to, lips brushing against the innermost part of her palm once it lowered to greet him. So beautiful she looked... especially when in her element.

He seemed thankful for her patience, the question soon asked of him far easier a one to answer. Shaky fingers reached for her own, entwining them gently before bringing them to his lips. Even now she cared for him, though one could argue this was when it mattered most.

"I didn't think it possible," he whispered against her skin, his free hand rising to the back of her neck. He drew her in, not once hesitating as he urged her weight against him. He wanted to feel her close, feel her skin against his own while they waited. They had the entire night to explore, to discover new things about each other or simply enjoy them anew. For now, he merely wanted a moment's closeness. "I suppose it's not too late to teach an old dog new tricks. I feel wonderful," he added finally.

[private-rp]

As she lay next to him, she watched as his glassy eyes came back into focus. She fought the urge to laugh, wondering just how much she had managed to scramble his mind in such a few short moments. She settled for holding him close, instead, aware of how intense those 'moments' must have been for him, happily curling her fingers around his own to steady his shaking hand. She looked upon him with nothing short of adoration, jade eyes following every line of his face and twitch of his lips as he smiled or spoke. How handsome he was, with such a caring and protective nature... How strong he was.

"One only stops learning when there is no time left to learn," She smiled at him, squeezing his hand before perching herself up to press a kiss to his lips "And, right now, we have time aplenty". She stayed there a moment, pressing a comforting kiss to his brow before she lay back down beside him; nestling into his side with a pleased hum.

There was no impatience to be found with her. She had pined for him for long enough, she wasn't about to rush their time now they finally had it. No, instead, she took this moment to touch him; comforting draws of her fingers up and down his shoulders, chest and cheek. Gods, when was the last time she had smiled like this? Had felt so at peace?

"You're wonderful," She breathed, fingers in the feathers of his neck "In your arms, I am home".

[that-bog-bitch]

The arm wrapped around her waist tightened while she cried, content to simply hold her. There was no judgement to be found, though questions he had plenty, and with another soft kiss planted to the top of her head gave her a chance to let go.

"I've got you," he whispered, the tip of his nose brushing against her scalp. "Easy does it."

Some part of him wanted to cry, too. For her sake more than his. Thinking about how long she'd carried this, how long she'd lived in isolation with a secret this big, devastated him. All this pain... No human or other-worldly creature should have been forced to live like this. From the soft sobs emanating from her, he garnered that she'd tried. Tried to come out of her shell, tried to live her life the best she could with what she'd been given. The rest had all been sacrificed, and based on how surprised she'd seemed she'd long given up on a happy ever after.

If there was one thing he could give her...

His head lifted with a start, the glasses he wore resting on a pillow beside him. They were the only pair he had, and he didn't want to think what work would be like without them. Easing his grip a touch, he let her pull away, eyes drifting from her own then down to her lips with a smile all too telling. This wasn't about a man liking a girl. It ran far deeper. Humming audibly, he returned her kiss in kind, daring to place a fleeting peck on the tip of her nose.

"Of course..." sighed Ryland, Rocky's melody echoing toward him as he rolled his way back their way. He didn't seem to be looking that way, though, his eyes entirely fixed on her own. A hand lifted, pressing itself to the side of her cheek as he leaned back in. Another kiss, this one far more gentle as he sighed audibly. He could feel his body responding, a warmth entirely new to him warming his skin. He drew her closer, hand lowering to her waist with a hum. Nothing around him mattered, only...

"Why humans make wet lip noises, question?"

Ryland groaned, breaking the kiss with a start. Lord knows how he was going to answer this one.

[private-rp]

The Hail Mary disappeared. Every hall and room that she had grown accustomed to, was gone. In that moment, there was only Ryland and herself; lined by the gentle hum of machinery she had long since forgotten or stopped caring about. She looked up at the scientist, at his tired eyes propped up by such a gentle smile. The way he looked at her, she wondered what it is that he saw. Did he see in her, the same light she saw in him, the same... Hope?

She hoped that he did.

With lips pressed gently to his, she let herself go. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, body begging for a closeness she had long been denying herself. The warmth of his body against his bringing her comfort she thought herself unworthy of. If it were possible to stop time, she might have done so, if only to capture this perfect instance and to replay it over and over. She wanted not only to commit the sight of it to memory, but the feeling also. The shape of his arms, the light scratch of his stubble against her face; the calloused fingers in her own.

She wanted to remember everything.

Rocky's sudden question had her pulling back in both surprise and embarrassment, thankful the Eridian couldn't make out colours or he would see how red her face was. She turned her eyes away, as though Rocky were peering into her soul, despite having no eyes. How could something with no face appear so judgemental at times?

"Um..." She cleared her throat "It's called a kiss... It's something humans do when they're mates, I guess... At least, that kind of kiss is more reserved for mates...".

Usually she worded things so much more eloquently to Rocky but the mechanic was more than a little frazzled. And yet, despite this, she hadn't moved away from Ryland at all, body melded against his own in a way she could almost feel his heart beat beneath her own.

[that-bog-bitch]

Otto was the first to stir, able to feel for himself the shifting of her weight and flexing of her muscles. He'd thought her dreaming, even toward the end, a large head lifting to check on her. Looking at her then, even a creature as large and non-human as himself could tell that something was very wrong. The sweat that coated her smelled putrid, and as he nudged her stomach gently with her nose he unfurled his weight just in time. Audibly, the water-bear whimpered. He wanted little more than to help and yet, as she continued to retch, all he could do was watch and hope one of the others would come to her rescue.

It was the Cerulean's eyes that opened, the loud call from the water-water bear disturbing what slumber he'd gotten. His ears twitched, brows furrowing in worry. Had the poacher returned to kill them? Not too far-fetched a thought, his head drifting from left to right in an attempt to scan his surroundings. Nothing could have prepared him for the look the creature gave him, much less the sight of the woman hunched against him with sweat trickling down her neck. The injuries she'd sustained had been far greater than his own, and if her trembling body told him anything it was that the medication she'd been given to help with the pain had long since worn off.

The man stood with a start, caring little for the weight placed on his own injured foot. He'd been instructed to keep it raised, allowing the ointment to seep in in order for it to heal properly. It would its work just as well, for a leg to him was replaceable but his current companions weren't. The promise he'd made Eva-Nine echoed through his mind, one he fully intended to honour as he crouched down in front of her. He looked her up and down, knowing better than to ask questions she had no energy to answer.

Humans were bizarre to him. He'd encountered few if any, and though what he'd brought along with him and kept stocked in his pack might have been useful for those whose bodies he knew? They were a mystery to him. Brushing a few loose strands of hair from the woman's face, he glanced toward the power down robot in the distance. She was resting, and had he known how to turn her back on he'd likely have gone and done so. They were stuck, at least from where he stood, one knee pressed to the ground beneath him as he reached for his satchel. An array of herbs were within, some more useful than others. He made short work of combining them, one hand dipping into the home-made ointment before gently applying it to the affected areas. They were meant to act as a painkiller and anti-inflammatory in kind, at least topically. The rest was combined with water, raised to the woman's lips with an approach all too delicate.

"Drink," said the Cerulean, the words falling from his lips in his own native tongue before easily being translated. "It will help."

[private-rp]

Her mind and body were a mixture of panic and pain; trembling shoulders and an overwhelming pounding between her eyes. A woman normally so aware of her surroundings couldn't tell her own body from the world around her. Pain ravaged her system in such a way that she couldn't feel anything else. Everything felt hot and yet she shivered as though she had a chill. Her eyes and her skin burned from fever but her fingers froze against the hide of the water-bear as she gripped to it for support. She retched, once, then twice; until there was nothing left for her to bring up and her throat threatened to tear.

As she leaned back against Otto, she became somewhat aware of the shadow of another in front of her, her weak amber eyes staring out at it in confusion. MUTHR had shut down and the shadow was too large to be Eva-Nine... So, it had to be...

"Ro... vender?" She called out, but it was little more than a hoarse whisper as the presence of something cool reached her stomach; causing her to whimper as it stung the puncture wounds upon it. The pain seared for a moment longer, before the effects began to take hold.

Her breathing was still rapid, chest rising and falling visibly; catching with each wave of agony. In time, as Rovender continued to add the ointment, her breathing began to slow. Her eyes closed briefly, another thrum within her head forcing her to lean it back against Otto to avoid swaying.

Drink...

There was a bottle to her lips, the scent of the liquid inside like that of a mossy forest. It hardly smelled appetising but it wasn't horrible. And she was hardly in the position to distrust the Cerulean. He had, after all, already done so much to help her. And so, her lips parted, allowing the herbal mixture to line her tongue and run down her throat. The taste was earthy, with a hint of something like mint. It eased her burning throat almost immediately, the coolness of the liquid settling in her stomach and spreading across her burning skin.

It was by no means a miracle drug, but it was enough.

She sighed once the bottle was taken away from her. Her head still ached but her thoughts felt clearer than they had been. The shadowed face of the Cerulean came into focus and though her body shivered still with her lingering fever, the panic had eased. Raising a hand, her head fall against, a small sigh parting her chapped lips.

"Thank you..." She breathed, her shoulders slowly beginning to relax as both the ointment and drink began to settle into her system "I should be fine now... Go, get some more rest...".

There was an air of shame about her as she spoke, her eyes never staying on his face longer than a few short moments. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and she hated it.

She shivered again, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Even the warmth of Otto's large body didn't seem enough, her body doing what it could to battle the lingering fever.

"You shouldn't be walking on that..." She said, eyeing his foot, though her words sounded half-hearted at best "Sorry, for waking you".

[that-bog-bitch]

There was a clear shift in the AI's behaviour, what submission the woman earned from him all but gone once permission was given. "Really," Kinger said, wanting to reassure him they owed him nothing. His hands raised, extending with their palms straight at the sight of them. "You don't have to do any of this, I-"

Caine was having none of it, a long tongue protruding from between his teeth before lapping against them hungrily. He was still high off the pleasure the banshee had given him, and with newfound confidence he was acting like a man starved. It was nice to see him like this, vulnerable and open, two mismatched eyes drifting down his toned body as Saoirse's hand did. It made for quite the sight, and as teasing words left the woman next to him he didn't miss a beat. Inch by inch, he gained on him, caring little for Kinger's arms as they pressed to his body in shame. It had been something he'd altered for his partner's benefit but, as the hungry eyes of the red-haired woman met his own, he realised he'd never truly enjoyed them.

He'd been alright with them just being there... until now.

Caine moaned audibly against the woman's lips, all but melting against them. The less dominant side to him was one only she got to have, and with those sweet yet teasing words having left her lips it seemed his fate was sealed. And man, was he in danger. He could feel Caine's hands wandering, wrapping themselves around a body round as it was muscular. They curled, pressing firmly to one of the spots closes to where a human's rear would be. Pleasure coursed through him, intense and overwhelming, and no sooner had they pressed that little bit harder than his weight gave. His lower half buckled, a sharp groan rising from him as he now lay kneeling at Caine's weight.

"You really thought," Caine purred, tongue curving against the warm wood of his maker. "You could just get away with that?"

His breath felt warm, the feel of the ringmaster's tongue against the front of his throat and trailing downward leaving him reeling.

"I-"

Before he could finish, he no longer found himself able to think at all.

Kinger's eyes fell to the woman's, panting thickly as the man's fingers moved further up. His body had tilted, twitching longingly with a mind of its own, and while those fingers met a second and third pressure point he was all but gone; a hand drifting to the back of the AI's neck to keep himself steady. Lower, and lower that tongue would drift, the wood almost seeming to warp. It took far less time, and far less effort from the man to get the response he wanted.

"S*&t."

Caine hummed thickly in response.

He was fully exposed now, an arousal far more intricate than Caine's entirely at his disposal. Much like his body, there were grooves and bumps aplenty; ones that the ringmaster began to exploit with little effort at all. He reached for Saoirse then, all but drawing her in for a longing kiss of his own. His 'lips' were firmer, far colder than Caine's, yet so smoothly they drifted that he deepened the kiss with ease. There was no love there, though care he had plenty, one hand drifting down the length of her spine as Caine continued to work. Only once the pleasure began to properly take hold did he lift his hand from her back, fingers curling around the place where his lips would be in an attempt to muffle the sounds. And what sounds they were.

Caine swallowed audibly, and Kinger groaned thickly, those eyes drifting in the woman's direction with a silent promise. Their show and tell was hardly done, and by the end of it? Well...

[private-rp]

The banshee kneeled by the pair of them, watching as Caine's demeanour began to change in a way that made her shiver. As much as she adored his submissive nature with her, there was something about watching him take control of the situation; how confidence lined every action. She hummed pleasantly, thighs gentle rubbing together as she watched the chess piece submit to every lap of the AI's tongue and touch of his gloved fingers. Every point he touched, the woman committed it to memory, thinking about how she would delve her delicate fingers into those very areas; how she would assault the chess piece with pleasure as she had her little honeybee.

As Kinger fell to kneel before the AI, Saoirse crawled up to him, like a lion stalking its prey. And as he reached out to her, she closed the gap happily. It was different, kissing him. His lips were harder, colder and while there was a sexual energy between them; that was all it was. Sex. Pleasure given and pleasure shared. And she was more than happy to imbibe and oblige.

Her lips parted from his briefly with a start, her back arching against his touch as his fingers drew across an old scar. Her breath shuddered, a soft and longing moan following before she buried herself into the kiss once more. Her arms wrapped around Kinger's neck area, a though searching for something to hold her steady, breasts pressed firmly to him, her lips parting and pursing against his until he could no longer think.

Breathless, she reached for the hand that threatened to muffle what sounds he made, humming softly as she clasped it in her own. She placed a gentle kiss to his cheek and neck, fingers drawing down the length of his back and searching for areas Caine had been toying with earlier.

"No need to be shy, Kinger," The woman hummed, drawing him in for a quick kiss "Let Caine know how good he's doing...".

To show the ringmaster she hadn't forgotten about him, she turned to draw her fingers across the top of his head and down between his shoulders. She took a moment to watch him work, an almost proud smile upon her face as she did.

[that-bog-bitch]

It weighed far more than he thought it would, the metal used closely resembling what it had been made of in the real world. He wondered how she carried it, how she could draw comfort from something like this, and as those mismatched eyes settled on her scarring the implication was quick to hit home. Even here, in a world created by humans that trapped those curious enough, memories of the past still lingered. Her arm still hurt even in the absence of an injury, and this had been her way of coping. It saddened him to know that some version of her still lived with the weight of this all on their own. He hoped only that she had someone to care for her. Someone that loved her as he did.

Caine looked up, the reassuring smile she gave him making him worry all the more. There were things about her he still didn't know about, and if these past few weeks had taught him anything it was that pressing her wouldn't help. She'd come to him about it in her own time, if at all. What was important was that she knew he'd be there to listen. In that moment, he was a man that couldn't think. An AI so caught off guard with feelings running amuck that not even he could begin to understand. What he did know was that pity was not among them.

"Your father..."

It was the first she'd ever mentioned him, and he thought to ask her his name. Choosing not to, he settled for imagining him instead, eyes twinkling brightly for a fleeting moment at the mention of him being an inventor. He'd always looked up to people like that, found some sort of kinship in them, and with another glance toward her prosthetics he could only smile. It was another piece of the puzzle he was unclear on, and he was more than happy with not knowing the rest.

"Your prosthetics are beautiful," said Caine, and for once there was a hint of wisdom. Rather unusual for him given how tone-deaf he could be. He cared, though. That was new. And if he could care then that meant he could feel empathy. Why not use it? "You shouldn't hide them. I-I mean, if you want to, that's fine, I just mean-"

Caine sighed.

He seemed a little too self-aware, his own emotions overwhelming him in ways he didn't quite know how to manage. "My point is, there's nothing wrong with them. Or you. Your father is a genius, and I'd love to learn more about you. Him too, if you ever find yourself willing."

[private-rp]

The doll let her prosthetic hang limply in Caine's gloved hand, barely twitching her fingers as he turned it this way and that. There was something about the way he held it, as though it were the most precious or fragile thing in the world. And perhaps, in a way, it was. It was a part of her she hadn't allowed anyone to see. A vulnerability. Much like a certain ragdoll, she felt a need to be the calm in the storm; someone to be relied upon. If they knew how damaged she truly was inside, how could they trust her to help them?

At least, that was what she had once thought.

Now, she had learned that she was not the only damaged creature among them. There was not a single ounce of perfection between them all and that was okay, it was what made them human. Caine too, despite being an AI, was a reflection of those that made him; humans.

"It's more habit than anything else," She admitted, a small blush appearing on her cheeks as Caine stumbled over his compliments "Out there... People have a habit of staring at things that are different. And asking questions that are sometimes too painful to answer, but...".

She paused briefly in her work, taking a moment to look down at her palms, twitching her mechanical fingers in thought.

"Everyone here has their own wounds, visible or otherwise..." She thought openly "And hiding them only seems to end in tragedy...". She thought to the purple rabbit that had once haunted the halls of the circus. How much pain must he have been in? So trapped within his own head that he had pushed away any offer of help.

Would she allow herself to fall as he did?

"I'll try to be more open," She decided, making a point of conjuring a small hook for her coat to hang on before prompting the AI "...What would you like to know about me?".

[that-bog-bitch]

Independence had been forced on her since childhood, the abuse endured at the hands of both her parents leaving her scarred enough to seldom accept help. She’d seen where that would get her, having tried to speak up for her brother’s sake on countless an occasion. It had only caused him more harm, most of what he’d endured because of her. Looking at Hellboy then, it triggered the same response in her; the want to carry her own weight far outweighing how realistic it might have been. She might have protested the arm, too, were it not for her knees almost buckling a few steps in and with a muffled groan she’d finally accepted.

“Thanks,” she said, the small handkerchief folding between her fingers as she brought it to her lips. She noted the initials, though they soon faded from view, and she made a mental note to ask him about them later. If she remembered any of this, that was. She prayed only that death be swift, should it truly be coming to claim her, the small radio dwarfed beneath his fingers as he reported back to whomever was on the other end. Her brows furrowed, more questions swirling in her mind, the overwhelming need to protest his crew going even further out of their way for someone already dying all but fading from her mind. Soon, she found herself unable to think at all.

Blood trickled from her fingers, the force with which she’d torn the small cross from her neck likely to leave a bruise. Not that she cared, she wanted nothing to do with it. With him, nor the family responsible for the gift in the first place. It took her a moment to process the sudden flick of the man’s arm, her blue eyes drifting as his palm opened. Even she would have thought the cross would have fallen apart but, to her surprise, it was fully intact. There was not a single scratch on it, and the irony of a demon as large as him being this gentle was hardly lost on her. “I-” she began, fully prepared to answer. She might even have given him a little context were it not for the screeching of the tires in the distance, a military style truck giving her pause.

In seeing it, she faltered, her grip on Red’s arm tightening. Military? Well, that sure did explain a lot. She hardly seemed to notice the bile accumulating in her throat, realisation striking in the worst way. Where the army was, so too was her father’s influence. Being a multi-billionaire in politics actively running for president did have that kind of a ring to it, she guessed. If there was one thing she was thankful for, it was that she could for now play it off, the tightening of her grip easily explained away by pain or simple shock. She didn’t want to go with them, though. Not because the demon next to her was harsh or because the people in front of him weren’t trustworthy. It was because there were three seconds away before her and inevitable recognition.

Her head lifted with a start, strands of long blonde hair hanging from her shoulders. The first man to emerge, ha!, was hardly a man at all. “Agent?”

Oh, shit.

Panic gripped her for a moment, her eyes drifting between the man holding her and the one before her. She almost seemed to have forgotten the question she was asked, a soft “The jokes just write themselves,” seeing her release the demon from beside her as she finally walked toward her. Her eyes followed Abe, unable to hide her awe and confusion in kind. There was not an ounce of disgust in her though, fear even less so, her head lowering gently. “Trish,” she said with a start, thinking she might need to lie about the rest. If there were to gain access to her medical records, or need them at the very least, that was not bound to be the best idea. “Trish Moretti.”

Wikipedia articles. School photos. Her brother’s life - all public. All now subject to the scrutiny of people she’d just met. And what a perfect little life she’d had.

She wanted to throw the cross again.

[private-rp]

If there was one thing you needed to know about Hellboy, other than the obvious, it was that he was old; really old. And one of the perks of being old meant that you noticed things others didn't. So, while Trish tensed at the sight of the military truck, he knew it was more than pain, despite how much that might have been contributing. Now, what caused her fear or disdain for the military? That, he couldn't figure out. He was old, not psychic... He hated psychics. So, while he handed the woman off to the capable hands of their on-sight medic, he made sure to keep his yellow eyes on her; taking in each twitchy or shifty behaviour.

Abraham Sapien on the other hand, hardly blinked at the look of awe and confusion give to him. It was the usual reaction... That or screaming. If anything, she was a breath of fresh air. Then again, she might still end up screaming... Delayed reactions and all. Still, they would manage that if it came to it.

He offered a hand to Hellboy to help him onto the truck, the bed swaying and groaning slightly as he did. Both agents sat down, a small smack of Hellboy's hand to the wall of the truck to get them moving. The medic was there to keep the woman stable, but what she really needed was a hospital. But, she was a target, that meant she got the VIP treatment from BPRD's finest and brightest medical staff.

Regardless, the medic seemed a gem, smiling softly at the woman as she revealed her name; tapping it down in her tablet as if it meant nothing to her. The mention of her last name, however, caused Abe's head to lift; third eyelid blinking and head tilting in thought, the name playing on his lips briefly before he pushed it aside. Hellboy nudged him.

"Penny for your thoughts, Blue?" He asked lowly.

"Moretti... The name sounds familiar but I can't place it..." Abe responded, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin.

"Eh, can't be too important," Hellboy shrugged "If it's buggin' you that much you can ask her when she's better".

The fish-man hummed, seemingly satisfied with leaving the matter for now. Her injuries were far more important than whatever her name may be. She could be a Jane Doe or a Queen; it didn't change the fact that she needed help.

"Okay, Trish," The medic smiled, placing her small tablet to the side before sitting on a small trunk in front of where Trish was sitting "I'm just gonna give you a quick look over so the guys at the Bureau know what to expect, may I?".

Normally, the medic would have started with the basic check-overs, concussion, blood pressure and heart rate. But, the red stain of blood upon the woman's abdomen seemed to be the more pressing issue. Turning to the two male agents, she clicked her fingers and like obedient children the pair turned their gaze away. Gently, the medic pried the fabric of the woman's dress down, pausing immediately the moment she noted the dislodged feeding tube. Her eyes widened slightly, before she looked up to Trish with a nod.

"Well, that's a bit too complicated for an on-field fix," She explained, reaching to her trusty first aid kit for some gauze "You'll know yourself we'd need a sterile environment and this isn't it. But, we've got great medical staff at the Bureau who can help with that. For now, we'll just put some gauze and bandages to stop it moving any further and control what bleeding there is".

With this, the medic pressed the gauze where she could, instructing the woman to help her and, in turn, check her coordination. It was only once the bandages were wrapped around her and her dress was pulled back up that she gave the two agents the all clear to look around again.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" Hellboy asked, risking a glance to Trish out of worry, a small pang of guilt that he hadn't reached her fast enough "Nothing too serious?".

"A dislodged feeding tube," The medic responded, taking out a blood pressure cuff to continue her other checks "It's a fairly simple fix but it can't be done here so we're just stopping it from moving any further and causing more damage".

"A feeding tube?" Hellboy blinked. He wasn't stupid, despite his confused expression; his father in later years had even needed one. What truly confused him, however, was what a girl with a feeding tube was doing out at night in this area of town.

"Not that I can be one to judge anyone's hobbies or make assumptions," Abe leaned forward with his elbows on his knees "But, just how did you end up alone in the 'party district' when you have something like that?".

"Not that you can't party with one," Hellboy scoffed, shooting the woman a smile "But the bars round here sure ain't the cleanest and, well, you're too well-dressed for those joints".

The medic shook her head and continued with her checks, placing the blood pressure cuff around the woman's arm.

[that-bog-bitch]

At the mention of his tail being ticklish not even Sixx could help but laugh, that being one of the many possible reasons he hadn't touched it without permission. He'd keep it in mind for the future, though, unable to stop himself from marvelling once he realised that that had been the sound of his laughter. His eyes lingered for a moment, unable to stop himself from falling head over heels for him all over again. Not that this was the time to part with that, his own mind distracted by the fleeting kiss shared before he turned to guide him. If things went well and they continued getting closer then maybe he'd find the courage to tell him, but for now? This was more than enough.

His lips parted with a start, back arching gently as he began to gently introduce his fingers. One of his knees drew a little higher, muscles flexing around the feel of them before slowly starting to relax. Though it had been a while, being able to trust someone this much made the process a little easier; the roadie's head tilting back against the man's stone hand as he drew him a little closer. He was trying his best not to tense, his other hand travelling to fall against his shoulder with a soft yet reassuring squeeze. It seemed he didn't need guiding, at least not anymore, a fact he was nothing short of thankful for as his eyes began to glaze.

"I like it when-" he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. His hips lifted, body shivering against the demon's touch as he flexed and loosened around him. Hissing lowly, he swallowed, brows furrowing as though unable to stop the response his body was having, "When you call me that-"

Babe.

After spending most of the night hearing himself being called beautiful, he almost started to believe it. He was visibly aroused now, his own length leaking in the same way Red's was; and as his head lifted with a start he began to lowly moan against his lips. The sound was fleeting, but very much there, handing the demon above him complete control over what happened next. He could feel his fingers pulsing, curling as they went, and no sooner had he found the perfect spot to hit than he hissed and clung to him. His eyes flew open, peering intently into the man's own, a choked "oh shit-" followed by a surprised laugh conveying just how much joy he gained from it.

He said he was going to be the one killing him, but...

[private-rp]

He didn't need guided anymore, his fingers pulsing with firm but gentle curling; yellow eyes watching the man writhe beneath him and taking pride. One talent the BPRD agent had? He learned fast. And he was quick to note every twitch of Sixx's hips or every flutter of his eyelashes as he became lost to what pleasure he gave him. The demon smiled at him reassuringly, giving him soft words of encouragement each time his sensitive walls clenched around his fingers. He chuckled softly, hearing Sixx words and committing them to memory. He liked to be called 'Babe'? That worked just fine, since he liked calling him that. And in almost every encouragement from the agent, he was sure to sprinkle it in.

When Sixx hissed, Hellboy paused, his confidence almost shattered as he thought it a sound of pain. But, as Sixx laughed, he knew it was anything but.

Jackpot.

As though testing a theory, he pulsed his fingers into that spot again, rolling his fingertips gently against it. He hummed happily, leaning down to steal another kiss from the roadie; groaning into it as his own hips rolled. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, hooking his flesh arm under one of Sixx's legs and inviting it to rest upon his shoulder. He continued to roll his hips, his textured length rolling up and down Sixx's own several times; each time he pulled back he drew further down.

Soon, the cone shaped tip pressed gently to Sixx's entrance, the head barely breaching it before drawing back just slightly. Hellboy groaned lowly, his tail twitching almost like a whip as the sensation rolled up his spine. Huffing lowly, he fought the urge to fill the man immediately, his arousal twitching with impatience. Gritting his teeth, he began to inch his hips forward, each second feeling longer than the last as he slowly began to fill him; each soft notch pushing gently against his sensitive walls.

"Damn, Babe..." Hellboy groaned lowly, his shoulders visibly tensing "Tell me if it's too much, alright?... Don't wanna hurt you...".

He moved slowly, carefully, drawing out each and every sensation until his hips finally lay flush with Sixx's own; panting as though he had ran a marathon. His forehead pressed to Sixx's, a long and low groan escaping him.

"You feel amazing..." He breathed, and though his hips twitched, truly, he would have been happy to remain like this forever "A guy could get used to this...".

[that-bog-bitch]

Abe was no stranger to control. He had it more often than not, for there was no other option. He was responsible for much, the very health of the agents he helped keep alive resting almost solely on his shoulders. Research too, was almost entirely his; the flow of information needing to be upkept even in his downtime. But not here. Not this time. If there was one thing he craved it was to see him let go, allow himself a moment's respite while he had the chance. After a week as heavy as the one they'd just had, most of which Abe had been vital for, he was more than deserving of it.

With a thick hum, his hands travelled up his sides. They'd pause there for a moment, circling to the front of his chest before travelling back down. Looking at him then, one might have thought him in his element; the small silver cross swinging visibly as his head began to bob. It was the perfect amount of pressure, tongue rolling and prodding almost expertly against the sleek arousal he toyed with. Were heaven as real as he knew at to be then this was the closest he'd ever gotten, every sound and hitch of breath committed to memory as he lovingly urged him on. He wanted to hear more of him, throat constricting around him as he thought it. Both hands curved under his rear, supporting him as he chased the very pleasure his mind was clouded by. He'd all but forgotten about the library, or that others might seek access to it, eyelids fluttering gently as his shoulders twitched against his touch.

Shit, he looked gorgeous. Sounded it, too.

He might not have seemed it, but the exorcist pleasing him bordered on addicted. He should probably have taken the cross off before getting started but, hey, who was he to deny him audience. With a gentle squeeze to his rear, he let the tip of his tongue press itself to the small opening before angling his lips to perfectly capture the sensitive nerve underneath. He could feel his core tightening, every muscle tensing in preparation, and as one hand shifted to compensate for the absence of the other, his free one reached for the fish-man's hand. A chance for closeness, fingers drawing themselves against his palm.

Let go.

[private-rp]

Abraham's dark eyes stared down at the exorcist, equal parts awe and pleasure as he watched his head bob with such enthusiasm. If someone had told him their mission was going to end with him lying on a couch with an exorcist between his legs... Well, he wouldn't have even entertained such a notion. And yet, that was exactly where he was, and there was no plan to be anywhere else. Library be damned, if anyone walked in it was their own fault. Gods, how long had it been since he'd felt like this, been touched like this, as though he were something to be revered. It was addicting, in the way that first buzz of alcohol reached you. And he had no desire to put this neat glass of scotch down until he had enjoyed every single drop.

"Nnn-" His breath hitched, a soft gasp as his hips pushed up against Raymond's mouth, one webbed hand moving to entangle into his dark locks. His touch was gentle, almost uncertain, fingers trembling from stimulation as his pleasure grew. And as Raymond's hands cupped under his rear he let out a choked groan, his head falling back briefly. The way the man handled him, with such care but such control, was like an art and he his scaled canvas. His breath hitched once more, the palm scrambling at the fabric of the sofa gently caught by Raymond's own. He was panting, core tightening, hips twitching and hands trembling. His lips pressed tight into a broken whine, before finally his hips began to shake and his release began to spill into the warmth of Raymond's mouth.

His voice came in a broken moan, body hunching forward and shoulders trembling as his heat spilled. His hands curled and tightened in their grip, one curling around Raymond's hand and the other gently tugging upon his hair. Even in this state of complete release, his touch was gentle, as though even now part of him desired to treat the other with such care.

With hips still trembling, Abe's body fell back, head laying over the arm of the sofa as his chest rose and fell with each panting breath. His third eyelid blinked audibly several time and the gills at his neck twitched as though searching for more oxygen.

"I... That was..." He tried, a quiet hum interrupting him as a shiver of residual pleasure ran through him "...Wow".

Usually a man of many words, he found himself almost completely at a loss.

[that-bog-bitch]

No sooner had he released him than a finger traced his lips, a pierced tongue protruding to lap up what juices remained. He eyed him as he did so, a hidden intensity beneath them telling the bassist he was nowhere close to done. He'd be sure to take his time with it, grunting thickly as he found himself pulled back down. His hips rolled, one hand drifting down the man's side before resting atop his hip. He urged them upward, grinding against him deeply while their lips danced.

"Aren't we eager," mused the man, his weight shifting gently. His arousal slipped, nestling itself between his thighs. It brushed against his entrance, the cold metal of his piercing rolling against his skin. He did little to urge it past that, the hands pressed to his rear doing well in earning from his a hiss, and no sooner had he lowered himself against him than he thrust back up. The tip of his arousal was far firmer against him this time, threatening to slip in. He wouldn't let it, allowing the man a taste of what it might feel like... Just enough to make the longing build.

Their lips locked, the man's pierced tongue delving past the bassist's lips to roll against his own. The hand resting atop his hip invited his leg to lift, one arm looping around it as he began to angle himself just right. Inching back, he thrust forward once more; a thick groan sounding from him as he felt himself slip past his entrance but not inside, coming to rest against Ace's arousal instead. Only once their kiss had broken did he gently nip at his finger, inching back for the final until time until slowly, and with almost too much precision, he began to insert. Inch by inch, moment by moment. Not too fast, nor too slow, the metal griding itself against the sensitive walls around it.

[private-rp]

Fresh from orgasm, the man was sensitive; each roll of Pet's hips against him drawing a sharp hiss or moan that caught on his lips. He could hardly think, only able to focus on the warmth of his partner's body as his hands travelled along every inch of him that he could reach. He seemed thankful for the press of the pirate's lips to his own, the coolness of his piercing a pleasant contrast to the warmth of his tongue. He huffed into the kiss, craning his neck and propping himself up somewhat and chasing the man each time he pulled away. He could feel what the other was planning, the presence of cool metal at his still sensitive arousal causing him to visible shudder.

The kiss grounded him, muffled what small noises he created; a private melody for the pirate that played him.

"Fuck-" He huffed against Pet's lips, each thrust of his hips threatening to breach him but never doing so; teasing him. And it was working. He was not a begging man, but lost in their lips Pet might have heard an uttered 'please' as Ace's hips rolled up. He didn't care how sensitive he was anymore, how his body burned and shuddered with every touch. He couldn't bare to have the other so close and yet so far away, anymore. He needed him. He wanted him. And no sooner had Pet began to give him what he desired that his head fell back with a low and silky moan.

It was quiet, as though meant only for the man who caused it, his fingers curling into the sheets beneath him as he felt each inch -marked by a cool piercing- slip inside. He hadn't considered this... How good the piercings would feel, each one a beacon pressing against his sensitive flesh in ways that earned the pirate a visible shiver.

"Fuck, Pet…" He whined quietly, grey eyes staring up at the man in a mixture of pleasure and awe. He reached for him, cupping his cheek and pulling him in for another desperate kiss.

[melancholysway]

When I say crash out this is exactly who I’m talking about:

The blueprint. The original. The REAL crash out.

2012 Raph was a menace 😭😭

[riotpanther]

TMNT Dynamics: Leonardo & Raphael

note: this post is platonic with a capital P

[redkehlchen]

Sometimes a family is a rat and his four (little) turtles …

[that-bog-bitch]

He'd spent years in isolation, drifting from place to place while blending with the trees and fauna. Few had ever seen him, stories told by hikers unlucky enough to happen across his nest quick to be blamed on their imagination. it had worked in his favour for years, the sole survivor of a race long extinct left to his own devices while theories about him grew. A cryptid, they'd called him, and soon he'd found more humans trickling his way. There were those more experienced among them that had been able to handle the hike, but others? They had perished on the road, tumbling off cliffs they hadn't known to avoid. Some had attributed their deaths to him, pushing forth a narrative in which he was a beast that sought to lure and kill adventurers. In turn, it had only fuelled their need for answers.

It hadn't taken them long to force him out of his habitat, empty bottles and broken down tents left in their wake. There was no food for him to hunt, the animals chased away, and with the water contaminated he had nothing left to protect. Search parties spread far and wide, pictures of those still actively missing pinned to every tree. He'd heard them yelling, the name of a young woman echoing through the trees. Curiosity was universal, every creature having fallen victim to it at some point or another, and while watching the people with interest he'd found himself stumbling across a woman who'd had a response far different than the rest.

Ava.

It was the only name he could piece together with relative ease, her home having become his safe-space in recent months. He'd been sickly, far too weak to fly, and though some part of him thought he'd find himself faced with the more lethal side to man, he'd instead been treated gently. She'd pretended she hadn't seen him, joining the rest of the search party with a dog large enough to be deemed a bear, and he was all the more confused when she'd returned with food and water. She repeated the process, the creature finding himself all the more trusting of her until - eventually - he'd followed her home. In the comfort of the dark, he'd perched himself atop her window, gently tapping on her glass with a single talon as if he were visiting a friend. He never left.

Even now, rumbling softly at the feel of her hand as it drifted down her spine, he wished that he could thank her. Were it not for her help, her want to keep him safe from the more prying nature of her kind, he wouldn't have looked this healthy. Her language was difficult to speak, though he'd come to understand it, and with a shuddering breath he offered her what he could. He worshipped every inch of her, an audible rattle sounding from somewhere too difficult to place. From his lips, a knotted tongue protruded, soft against her skin as it wandered. It rolled down her neck, settling against her nipples with a happy chirp.

Every inch of him was sensitive, and her touch was hardly helping.

His wings fluttered, pressing firmly to his back. It was a sign of arousal, taloned fingers tugging at the covers with care. He didn't want to rip them, money having become something he'd grown mindful of since he'd come to live here. The bed beneath them creaked, weight shifting to one side so that he could expose her body completely. She looked beautiful, her skin nothing short of perfect as the sun rose. HIs calloused hands drifted, talons dragging gently though not firmly enough to break skin. His jaw chattered, another sign of happiness from the harpy before he lowered himself back down. He wanted to taste her more, lips and tongue continuing to drift to her skin until he'd reached her navel.

Only then would he stop, his head tilting at the soft shudder of her hips. He kissed and nipped at the skin there, pausing to watch her as she had the same response again. Two bright brown eyes held her own, if only for a moment, blinking softly before kissing the front of her legs. He counted each one, guiding them apart as he nestled between them. A few more kisses to her navel and his tongue drifted to her core, slipping past her slit and to her opening. He was learning, every response gained from her guiding him as he went, as he drifted his tongue back up he found himself feeling a small bump that triggered a far bigger response from her than the rest. He lingered there for a moment, kissing the spot gently before making himself comfortable.

The sounds... The sounds.

He was addicted to them, the lubrication from his tongue just enough to make the process of rolling against it easer.

[private-rp]

Her father had always told her she had a gentle heart. It was part of the reason she became a police officer and later joined the Missing Persons Unit. The feeling of joy that came with every found person was payment enough and while there were cases that did not end the way one would want, at least there was closure for the families. The hiking trail which she lived so close to, had always been a hotbed for missing persons cases. She had solved a few there, had had to abandon others when the trail became to dangerous to trek. In a way, it was both home and the unknown; for with each step she took she had no idea what she would find.

And a harpy... That wasn't even close to being on her list.

She remembered the day he had shown up on her window, lightly tapping upon it; soaked through from the rain and shivering from the cold. While most might have reached for their gun, she found herself unable to. The pitiful expression in his eyes, their desire for kindness, she couldn't deny him. The moment she opened that window she had welcomed him into her life and her home. He hardly seemed to leave anymore, content with what she and her little mountain cabin could offer him. He wasn't the worst roommate, though he certainly contributed to the rise in her grocery bill and in the few times he was absent, she'd found herself missing him.

It was after a brief period of absence that he had awoken her on her bed, his behaviour affectionate but strange. He wasn't a stranger to asking for the odd hug or preening her hair but his actions held a weight that morning; a weight that soon found her stripped of what little clothing she had.

"Harp-" She started, the little nickname she had for him falling from her lips breathlessly as his tongue travelled across her skin "Jesus...". Her skin felt hot, her body flushing and twitching with every new sensation. The way his tongue felt, the knots brushing against her chest and the sensitive skin there, it made it difficult to think. She could only press her fingers further into the feathers of his wings, a gentle pressure urging him on. She had never considered such an intimate act with the creature before but now that she was experiencing it? She found herself surprisingly pleased.

Her body shuddered as his talons kissed her skin, a soft gasp of breath at the pleasant sensation it caused. She could see the cogs turning in his head as he kissed down her body, pausing as her hips twitched involuntarily at his actions. Her breath hitched and brown eyes stared into his own. She could only bite her lip in thought of what was to come, a short whine echoing through her bedroom as the warmth of his tongue finally made contact with her core. Her hips shifted against him as his tongue found her clitoris, a hand lifting to her mouth while the other danced at the feathers on the back of his neck.

"Fuck..." Her words were muffled by her fingers, the woman suddenly thankful for the headboard supporting her back as it arched and pushed away from it. She watched the harpy as he worked, his technique almost changing in real time to suit her as though he were adapting from the sound of her alone. "You-" She tried to speak, her words stolen from her in a soft moan as her hips rolled up against his tongue "Holy shit- Fuckfuckfuck-".

[that-bog-bitch]

John's muscles flexed visibly as he continued to stretch and tease him, the hand he was perched on resting by the mage's head. "Like that?" he whispered, lips mere inches from his ear. His fingers thrust deeper, curling upward gently, and though a question had been asked of him it was clear he knew the answer. His own arousal twitched, hips lowering while the bed beneath them groaned.

He continued to kiss and tease him, the tip of his nose brushing its way up the front of his neck. His lips were captured soon after, calloused fingers pressed to the an area of muscle more sensitive than the rest. "That's it, baby," he whispered lowly, a soft nip to the front of his neck urging him on. He could feel his back contort, each soft pant and whimper drawn from him committed to memory. "Let me fucking hear you."

The assault to his senses continued, fingers working to please him even through his plea. He knew what he wanted, could sense from the twitch of his arousal what he craved, but he seemed in no rush to give it to him. As the mage would come to discover, the rancher had something of a devious side to him, the orgasm stolen from him mere seconds before he'd reached it. His fingers withdrew, a soft squeeze to his rear followed by the sudden presence of his arousal. He teased him with it, the tip penetrating gently before gently jutting upward.

"Shit," he hissed, a thick chuckle sounding from him as he repeated the motion once more. Even now, he kept himself at an angle; a soft "You look good like that," escaping him before the final thrust came. Using his free hand to align himself, he eased his weight atop him, hips nestled comfortably between his legs as he pushed in as far as he could go. His arousal was thick, a slight curve to it giving him edge to boot, filling the boy to almost painful a degree. The man's body lowered atop him, weight eased by the elbows he was perched on at either side of his head.

A thick grunt was to follow, calloused fingers running themselves through the mage's hair. His hips shifted back, withdrawing almost entirely until only the tip was inserted. His movements were slow, but heavy as they were firm; filling him back up with one thrust forward.

[private-rp]

Isago couldn't stop his hips from pushing and rolling against John's hand, his own hands gripping at the sheets above him as he chased his high with reckless abandon. His back arched, his chest raised with every harsh pant of his breath. It had been too long since he'd felt like this, too long since he'd indulged in the presence of another; let alone someone he'd grown to care for this much. Perhaps it was because of that that this felt so much sweeter? Or perhaps it was because of the rancher's experience that he was already lost to the hazy desire in his mind that threatened to spread.

John's demand to hear him was met with a loud moan, his hips pushing firmly onto his hand as he felt himself so close to his release. He chased it, craved it and yet no sooner had he reached the brink had he found it stolen away; a broken whimper escaping him as his legs trembled but the building pleasure dissipated. He thought to complain, amber eyes opening to silently beg the man to continue, all but drooling as his lips parted with a quiet whine.

And then he felt it.

The head of John's erection pressing firmly to him, threatening to breach with every passing second. A broken moan escaped him, pupils blown and eyes glassy as he stared up at the man, his hips threatening to push against John's own and close the gap. John lowered and Isago found he could do little more than wrap his arms around his shoulders, a loud whimper escaping him as he felt the other push into him more and more; all but stuffing him.

He couldn't speak, soft huffs of breath and whimpering noises all his lips could produce as he leaned up to capture the other's lips messily. His body tensed and arched as he felt John pull back, a sharp moan sounding each time their hips met. Slow as the rancher's actions were, the heavy weight behind them caused Isago's body to react beautifully. His nails dug into John's shoulders, clinging to him as though he were the only thing capable of grounding him. Each thrust of his hips caused the bed to groan audibly, the mage a pathetic whining mess beneath him.

[that-bog-bitch]

The AI's moans had soon turned into soft cries, and as Kinger's eyes drifted to the woman's rear he could only thank Pomni for the pillows. This moment... It was reserved solely for them, and he was surprised to find himself protective of how intimate it all seemed. They had come to him with this, trusted him to be part of the process, and once their time together had come to an end he would remember none of it. Pretend not to, at the very least.

Caine whimpered, thick pants escaping as he struggled to formulate a response. Her hands were still on his arousal, thick and pulsing as it still was, and that was driving him crazy. His hips inched back, thrusting against her one last time before withdrawing completely; two gloved hands pressing themselves to the carpet as he fought to bring himself back up. Looking at him then, one might have been able to see how different his jaw looked, every inch of him relaxed with eyes that seemed glazed and incapable of focusing. There were no words that he could use, no objects he could conjure, that would touch the surface of how nice that had felt.

Not once did Kinger move. He hardly seemed to be breathing, either, allowing Caine a moment to come down. As his teeth nestled against the woman's touch and he returned each kiss in kind, he could tell he was starting to come back to his senses. The AI stole one kiss, then another, and then another, and with a whispered "Great," finally coming in response to her question Kinger stood with a soft bow of his head. He seemed happy, more than proud of both of them. There was not a hint of frustration or tiredness in him as he began to speak.

"I'll allow the two of you some time," he said, reaching for the small bucket. Though they had offered to please him in turn, he'd all but forgotten about it, not deeming it of any importance at all. Kaine's head raised to Saoirse, head tilting for a moment to check in with her on how she felt. His fingers traced the length of her jaw, a single hand raising from him the moment he had her permission. No sooner had the pawn stepped past the tent's opening than he found himself kneeling by their side, something new present in Caine's eyes.

"Cutting our lesson short?" Caine said, his voice thick. A gloved hand reached to his robe, one finger unhooking the small button until it dropped to the ground before them. His ears were mere inches from Saoirse's own, unable to stop himself from kissing at her skin.

[private-rp]

The banshee appeared more than pleased with herself, letting out a playful laugh as Caine finally found himself able to speak; gently cooing at him and covering his face with as many kisses as she could. How beautiful he was, especially like this when he was so well and truly relaxed. Truly, nothing could ruin this moment or change just how besotted she was with him. Even when Kinger stood to leave, she could only look at the ringmaster with playful eyes; humming as he traced her jaw. He was becoming more confident, something the woman was very excited about. And, there was no reason for Kinger to miss out on such a milestone.

The woman whistled softly as Kinger's robe was finally removed, noting the wooden but oddly toned body beneath. Now, what was the point of having something like that and not letting anybody marvel at it? "I see Caine isn't the only one whose been making changes, Kinger..." She teased him, head tilted as Caine began to kiss at her skin "It would be a shame to let such hard work go to waste...".

She reached out, cool fingers trailing down the front of Kinger's neck area and down the length of his chest and stomach. She wondered how Kinger's body might work. Was it the same as Caine's? With a small panel at his groin? Or something else? As though testing the idea, her delicate fingertips danced across the wood there, humming pleasantly as her jade eyes fixed firmly on Kinger's own.

"You told me all of Caine's secrets," She teased softly "I think it's only fair that Caine tell me some of yours...".

Pushing onto her knees, hand perched under Caine's jaw lovingly, she kissed the centre of Kinger's chest before travelling up to his neck area. In much the same way she had looked upon Caine, her hungry eyes were now fixed on Kinger, a playful smile tugging her lips before she sat back upon her feet.

"Honeybee," She cooed sweetly, kissing Caine softly "Why don't you show me?...".

[that-bog-bitch]

His breath left him in quick pants, fingers gripping tightly to the makeshift bed beneath him. She was clearly in her element, fingers and lips drifting expertly beneath each feather. It set his body ablaze, and once those cool fingers wrapped themselves around his arousal he could only shudder and lift his lips in longing. So new this was, so completely and utterly overwhelming, that he struggled to think at all; lips barely able to keep up with her own as his whines were muffled against them.

"My love?"

The words left him with a start, able only to watch her as she drifted downward. He hadn't known the same act could be given to him in turn, those glazed eyes widening the closer to his arousal that she grew. His eyelids fluttered, ears pressed firm to his head as a hand flew to his lips, brows furrowing with a look almost pained as he breathed against them. "Oh..." For a moment, he looked almost drunk. That same hand soon fell, fingers tracing the back of his neck as his hips began to lift. She'd only just begun, the rhythm she found just right, both eyes fixed on her as she bobbed.

"Wonderful..."

There was no describing the sensation. So soft her lips were that he could feel them lingering even after they'd drifted, the very juices lining her tongue testament to how enticing he found it. Those same fingers travelled, resting atop her head with far too much care as he audibly began to pant. She looked beautiful, and the harder she worked the closer he grew.

A choked whimper was quick to follow, the sharp twitching of his hips making the coming climax evident for him. His grip on her grew heavier, though he kept himself mindful, her name falling from his lips as he unravelled. He spilled in her mouth, once, twice, and three times for extra measure; hips continuing to shift against her through each wave.

[private-rp]

Every sound he made was music to her ears, intimate notes that only she was blessed enough to hear. She briefly thought to tease him for it, the usually gruff Cerulean melting like putty beneath her touch. She settled to simply enjoy it, her lips pursing and sucking; throat swallowing with each whimper that escaped him. Jade eyes wandered, meeting his as she buried his length to the back of her throat; a pleasant hum escaping her as his hand rest upon her head.

She could feel his hips twitching against her mouth, length twitching beneath her tongue as she drew him closer to his climax; burying his length as deep as she could manage the moment he unravelled. Each spill she swallowed, an audible moan coming from her as her eyes fluttered closed and she indulged in the taste of him.

Delicious, she thought.

She kept him there, throat constricting around his length until his hips began to relax, releasing him with a small gasp and an audible pop. Panting, she reached a thumb to her lips and wiped what little of his release had attempted to escape. She hummed pleasantly, jade eyes fixed on the Cerulean's face as she smiled; drawing her fingers up the length of his chest.

"Amazing..." She breathed, cupping his face and drawing her thumb along his cheek before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Palpable as her desire was, she wasn't about to push the other; aware of how overwhelming the act may have been for him.

"How're you feeling?" She checked in, lying next to him and nestling her nose into his neck as she drew comforting circles upon his chest.