[It was plenty of fun, getting up to all kinds of mischief in the backseat of Cellinia's car-- certainly a first for Mai, a delightful little memory of them fogging up the windows beneath an audience of rustling leaves and lightly chirping birds. Still, there's something to be said for having more space to sprawl out, an aspect of proper lodging that Mai is looking forward to. It's not that she had lowered her standards by screwing in a car-- every girl deserves to have an exciting little adventure with an enthusiastic lover-- but Mai prefers the pampered comforts that include a soft bed to luxuriate in after the passion abates.
She'll think about reconsidering her stance on staying the night on the first date, given that the two of them have been doing everything out of order from the get-go. At the very least, she'll hope that the wolf has the sense to sleep somewhere soft enough for Mai to get some rest whenever they're tuckered out. But the thought of Cellinia curled up in a proper bed, complete with pillows and a duvet, nearly makes her laugh. Well, she'll just have to see for herself, won't she?
Mai will give a short laugh in response to Cellinia agreeing to behave just enough. There's a musing that dies in her lips, something about how she probably shouldn't order someone around in their own home. Yet if Cellinia wanted a well-behaved guest, she definitely wouldn't have extended this invitation to Mai. Unfortunately for her, Mai can't even promise enough tact not to peer around at everything she owns and hasn't stashed out of sight. That's fine, she already has a sugary excuse ready should Cellinia express annoyance at it: Oh, I just want to get to know you!
Foolproof, surely.]
Seriously? Imagining me without my clothes on again, already? Sounds like you're the one who wants to see the view.
[With an exaggerated shake of her head, Mai eyes Cellinia knowingly, a sneaky smile playing on her lips. There it is-- there's the hungry wolf she wants to see, chomping at the bit to have its prey unwrapped and ready to be devoured again. And how fun it would be to have those battle-worn hands divest her of her uniform again, but this time, Mai will be the one doing the honors with Cellinia's clothes. There's a high likelihood of her sneaking a few more love bites in as she does, too, but she doubts she'll hear any complaints.
The chivalry that her lover demonstrates never fails to impress Mai, and having the door held open for her so respectfully is just another expression of those manners. Truly, it's not something that one encounters much anymore, especially not in the modern world. Mai is nearly certain that some of the higher ranking men in her family get treated similarly by their chauffeurs and personal attendants. She wouldn't know, herself a lowly serving girl before they shoved her off to the Kyoto technical school. So, she'll bask in feeling like a proper young lady, and smile with unmistakable pride as she swings her legs from her seat and steps out of the car. That revolver of hers is securely hidden, so as not to frighten any passersby as they make their way to the apartment. Better to leave Cellinia as the odd sight around the building, even though it doesn't seem like anyone is batting an eye. Do they not mind that she's a wolf, or do they simply have no clue? Perhaps they really do think she's some silly cosplayer bringing her pretty and stylish friend over to read her manga collection, or something. Now that's a laugh-worthy thought.]
You must manage pretty well, living around all of these normal people.
[She'll muse aloud once they're out of earshot of the other tenants. The two of them walk close to one another, and every now and again, Mai will feel her hand brush softly against Cellinia's. Hmm... ]
(the chirping of birds, the light breeze blowing about. she'll always remember that. remember that they may have gone a little too out of order for the enjoyment of others. she's quiet, for now. her space is somewhere pleasant, a soft bed and decent furniture. decent bedding and pillows, she has everything that someone like her can use. the amenities, some luxuries affordable by her job despite a tendency to be somewhat more destructive than croissant likes. she intends on letting her sleep. there is that, that won't be disputed against as cellinia isn't someone that is that insatiable. not unless a lover desires to see her exhaust themselves down to their very being almost in how she would have not let every part of her lover untouched by those devoted hands.
she'd give her so much more of her, exhausted or not. though she hardly knows what might happen. that mai also intends to look around, but there was a feeling more on what she might have said had they not gone back to her apartment. another order, perhaps, that she didn't behave for too long. that she wanted to see her hungry again and wanting. wanting to touch her and wanting to feel her, drawing out mai's own pretty voice while her lips are preoccupied with more marks of her own. left along that unblemished and beautiful skin of hers like a canvas that cellinia is on a mission to fill with her own colors. she's already on a mission to do that, why not make it so she doesn't forget the sight and feeling? the softness of her skin and cellinia's battle worn hands along it.
they're not going to behave for long, this is inevitable. that since the fire was lit it'd be impossible to expect otherwise. something in this brought back what once would have been that flame surrounding them in happier times, before everything decided to tear them apart. as if in mockery from whatever higher power is out there, though cellinia herself has long since stopped believing in that. she didn't need to. she held no wish to hold close to her heart that, but maybe she comes close to it again more in how she treats mai like a goddess. like something to replace her "religion" she's abandoned.)
It's a lovely view, can you blame me?
(but that's getting a little too far ahead of herself while they make their way up, the other tenants hardly fazed. they did indeed believe her to be some cosplayer while she's stayed within this building. maybe even were told to ignore her, that she's something of an eccentric girl from a well off foreign family. they all seemed to not care much. that helped cellinia often avoid dealing with them, but she did from time to time need to deal with questions arising if she weren't too careful about her antics. that's a main part of why she would keep it down. refrain from anything too animalistic so she didn't have to move from apartment to apartment in avoidance of what could be another rep behind her heels.
one that would be more amusing than the bloodstained trail that would never stop haunting her. that rep is one she would know too well, as far away as her mind is she's paying attention. the brush of their hands together, their fingers close while cellinia has the common sense to shift closer. to hide it better while that very same hand grabs mai's. almost like earlier, but much softer. considerate. she doesn't hold it too tightly or too firmly to give room for her to let go if mai decides that bit of affection (hidden or not) is too forward for her liking. she isn't the kind of girl that would be forceful. mai can decide on how much affection and other things she wants herself, cellinia wouldn't argue and even then, she's keeping her eyes on her lover. that hunger rests within them, quietly and patient for the time being. her floor is the fourth one, a little view for them included from a small balcony that waits and the nice feeling of the fresh summer breeze fluttering along.)
I can be good at being civilized, for someone so capable of being a wild animal.
(she's not going to lie about it now, her honesty is something cellinia has in spades. the part where she's prone to running aside, she doesn't lie about these things. not about herself or about what she does think when asked. helpful, but also terrible while knowing that it can stir up trouble when her tongue is being a little too sharp for someone's liking.)
['A lovely view,' Cellinia says, and it nudges a bit of warmth to bloom in Mai's chest. She sounds like a proper suitor, speaking about her so gallantly, as if she isn't talking about drinking in the sight of Mai's unclothed body all bitten up thanks to her. Her words don't betray any indecency. It sounds more like she's talking about a piece of art that she admires, one that she wishes to visit again, appreciate again, and perhaps even touch again when permitted. Curious, dangerous, even-- the way she continues to make Mai feel special as they make their way to her apartment for activities a bit less... respectable.]
...You won't catch me complaining.
[And why would Mai complain about having those reverent eyes on her again? She's a veritable desert, desperate for any drop of adoration that falls from her harsh skies. She can't admit it, the presence of some creeping feeling that Cellinia had fed to her during their time earlier. It's a feeling that makes those parched roots of Mai's leap towards the source, desperate to wrap around it tightly and squeeze more, just a little bit more of it out of that woman. And Mai has to refuse to admit it, especially to herself, that this feeling is what really compels her to follow this wolf back to her lair. That, and the look of pure worship when she has her just right, coupled with the pretty pleasures that soothe her bitter anguish like a salve. It's strange, how it calms one part of her heart while inciting another to scramble and claw for more, more of whatever this poison is, falling like rain upon her miserable desert.
She ought to be more disappointed in herself, shouldn't she? Perhaps even a bit ashamed that she's wanting to attach herself just a bit further, lest she obsess over shutting herself away from the things she truly desires in this life. Anything she really yearns for slips out of her grasp before long, after all, no matter how tightly she holds onto it. The whim of Fate's cruel wheel, no doubt.
Ah.
But then, Mai feels something-- Cellinia's hand slipping into hers, gently. Of course it brings to mind the recollection of how she had grabbed her hand before while drowning in the waves of ecstasy. It was a too-romantic gesture in the heat of the moment, she tells herself, but what of right now? It's not like they're anything more than two near-strangers headed for a more private setting where they can indulge in one another for a bit longer... But this would give anyone else the wrong idea, wouldn't it? As her eyes glance down at their hands, Mai tries to will away the blush that dares to kiss her cheeks, with only mild success. While she doesn't tighten her hold, she doesn't pull away, either. Mai isn't sure what to make of such a chaste display of affection, so she'll stop herself from dwelling too much on it. Or try to, anyway.]
Well, since they're not asking, I will. Why? Doesn't it ever bug you, being the odd one out?
[Standing out is truly one of the greater annoyances in life, after all. If it isn't because of one's looks, it's one's talents-- or lack thereof. The story of Mai's entire existence, really, being forced beneath a magnifying glass for things mostly out of her control. They'll leer at for her looks and punish her for practically everything else. Who would want to stand out? Mai has a sneaking suspicion that Cellinia's answer will be that she simply doesn't care, that it won't get in the way of her living her life, or whatever it was that Mai has heard somewhere before-- something that she had declared, that wretched sister of hers. Another hand that once held hers before trading it for a weapon to slice her way towards a glory that will never be hers. Never.
The similarities are there, undoubtedly, but there are marked differences, as well. Mai doesn't know anyone else who has a place of their own, with a balcony that overlooks a nice little neighborhood. Granted, the people that she knows either live on campus or in one of the numerous wings of her family's sprawling estate. Where else would they go, where else would they want to be? Not even Mai has any idea of where she might end up once her stupid studies are finished. Two more years, if she can hack it for that much longer. It would be nice, wouldn't it, to live away from that old life? But, it's almost as unlikely as everything else she might desire for herself.]
So. You live alone, right?
[Probably a question that should have been asked well before their drive over here.]
(it isn't the most decent of things. not the shared heat between them as their bodies are bared for one another. an intimacy that they would have dreamed of whenever their minds weren't so worn down, their souls, and their poor hearts which had been rife with so much disappointment. disappointment, suffering, the loss of so much of their innocence in their own miserable ways. cellinia looks at her like she's something to treasure. someone to have in her arms, a work of art and one she longs to keep in something sweeter. too sweet for souls like theirs. that would never change, they're at the end of the day a pair of sinners who would never be welcomed back to the fold for their misdeeds. misdeeds done intentionally by choice or forced upon them by another whenever cellinia notes how mai says that.
it's only fitting that her lover is given this delight.
this honor of honors, while the wolf keeps raining down on her desert. like the storms that she loves, the rain that she is always considered a part of. those clouded skies drenching her and her everything in it's dreariness. didn't it sound better? she can drown that desert in soothing water and wash away all of it in a downpour that was never seen before. covered in the way she touches her beneath the rain, that she drags her lover down with her into the bottomless depths of their ocean that waits for that opportunity. more, it demands. more, it wants. it wants to drag them down into this and what they both had been telling themselves will be purely physical. that they'll not do anything more than acquaint themselves deeper than most with their bodies. this poison won't ever fade from them.
the poison of tenderness, of tender worship. reverence and desire at the core of it. how she can display it all, show it by touching her. cellinia was never that girl who would stop the moment someone made it evident they liked something she did, how she reaches deeper into this bottomless depths they'll both be falling into together. keep clawing at it, keep begging for it, chasing it. take it all. drink everything offered. be savages, be amorous and unapologetically greedy is what her instincts whispers. how it wants to tempt her into letting it all out. to chase and chase, to hunt until she's made this pretty girl fully hers. that nobody else should be allowed to have her, not even take her from the hands of a wolf that is much more dangerous than acts around her goddess.
what those sharp teeth and claws could do is best left for others to suffer at the hands of, her goddess has better need for her mouth. for her hands to be within reach. amidst the throes of passion, or like now in chaste affections that they both would surely add to their growing list. their mistakes are only going to come out further than their sins by the time this day ends. but that blush on mai's cheeks, it's another thing she likes to see more of. that she won't ever stop committing to memory as another thing. she's seen it.
she doesn't even mind the way mai doesn't reciprocate entirely, it's only affection that their starved bodies has always craved. that something they always wanted was kept out of grasp. nobody seems to be paying attention on the final stretch of this venture to cellinia's apartment.
she did take a moment to think about her question, though, and:)
It doesn't. I was meaning more it can be a pain in the ass moving around when people start to get suspicious. For me, it doesn't matter much. If they're not bothering me, I won't make it their problem for crossing me.
(which is hardly a lie, if they don't make it her problem then she won't bother them. this is how she's always started to live since that day. that cellinia can stay quiet and if they dare to do anything she hates, they'd learn. that's how she's been before and after her departure from the center stage of familiga life. mai of course, doesn't know that. she may not care how she's viewed, but she also knows that being too much of a stand-out can get attention.
she'll live, they're better off not knowing about the predator lurking under the surface. or at the very least, not the way she displays it for mai's eyes alone.)
[Well, Cellinia certainly isn't playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, here amongst the civilians. No, the wolf herself is simply out and about, indifferent to the concerns of the humans around her. If anything, it would probably be more difficult to try to hide her beastly features than display them with such a committed nonchalance. All the better. Let the rest of them think of her as some strange otaku, dedicated to the bit. Mai will find mild amusement in the way that everyone seems to be equally indifferent to the oddity that lives amongst them.]
Oh-- so you won't 'make it their problem,' huh? Lucky them. And I bet they don't even know it, either.
[None of Cellinia's neighbors are even aware that their lives are being spared so long as they continue to mind their own business. Now that's a funny thought. And she says it with such a trained casualness, that one would think it less of a threat and more of an objective fact. Spoken like a beast, truly, one who knows their place in the world of humans, a world that they choose to inhabit. A place that, for good or ill, is at the top of this hierarchy, or very near it, anyway. Yet when Mai's eyes flit back to their joined hands, then glance briefly up at Cellinia's lips, trying to envision them drenched in the blood of some hapless human who dared confront her-- there's that disconnect, again. Those hands and that mouth have only offered Mai sweetness thus far, in a way so etched into her already that rewriting the memory with something decidedly more vicious feels... incorrect, somehow.
That does beg the question: has Cellinia needed to move around often before finding her current home? Did she leave bodies in her wake, or is she the type to merely slip away in the shadows of the night, disappearing before the figurative villagers could sharpen their pitchforks to drive out the monster in their midst? It's a pain, Cellinia remarks, something Mai can imagine to be true-- yet at the same time, something about it sounds awfully lonesome, as well. A life with risks like that can't possibly lead to a great number of meaningful attachments. At this thought, Mai reflexively tightens her hold on Cellinia's hand. It would really be just her luck, wouldn't it, to have to forfeit something exciting while the fun was just getting started?
Really, Mai ought to be used to this by now. The thought of it still annoys her, though.
There's some consolation, however, in knowing that she won't need to worry about any prying eyes inside of the apartment. While this is another suggestion of a lack of attachments, it's one that Mai can take a bit of satisfaction it.]
Must be nice, having a place all to yourself. No need to answer to anyone, either.
[There are many ways that remark can be taken, though the obvious insinuation is that Cellinia won't have to field questions about the girl she's bringing over to play with. No awkward introductions, no explanations on how they met or what they plan on getting up to. That's a relief, really. Their entire history is laughably brief, and anyone with enough sense would almost definitely cast a very judgmental opinion over their strange relationship. It's the last thing Mai wants, right now, a price she is happy that she doesn't have to pay for more of Cellinia's attention. No need for logic to play the antidote to their poisonous little escapade.]
You know-- I can't believe you just walked around like that.
[She points her finger obviously at the marks displayed around Cellinia's tank top, decorating her neck and collar. It's certainly a bold move to traipse around wearing hickeys like some pretty accessory. If those wolfish ears and that tail weren't interesting enough to grab anyone's attention, Mai's handiwork probably drew at least a few quizzical glances before the two of them finally arrived at the doorway to the apartment.]
(she didn't need to do anything more than that. playing wolf in sheep's clothing is another annoyance in itself, why go that far whenever it's easier to blend in with their thoughts about her being some manner of foreigner otaku? she's done good at it so far, she didn't need to change that. they can think of her as being odd, as being some girl who moved there because of some whims pertaining to an interest in that culture. they don't know about the wolf before them, that's better than one might ever think. that civilians don't know such a truth lying in front of them, that their guest is a beast. a she-wolf who is at the top of this unspoken hierarchy. as she was before in the old country, the motherland that she does her best to distance herself from. cellinia holds no wish to return to that life, that violence. all bloody, all raw.)
It's better that way, isn't it?
(that they don't know of it, that those lips which offer her lover sweetness have spilled blood. that her hands have carved apart those foolish. it was second nature. killing the enemy, crush the enemy. if they draw a weapon then they are not to be brushed off, she knows the meaning behind a fight with such things and by no means is cellinia going to hold back. that's never been her style. but these people? no, she wouldn't do anything to them unless they did anything to her first. her lips which kissed mai so much are slightly reddened from their earlier activities, her hand is comfortable around her lovers. she has a desire to not replace this ideal image with something bloody. something frightening.
before, her moving was purely because of work reasons. they never found a place to make their own, somewhere they'd all be able to stay at. that took time. seven years of time and all spent full of cellinia being thoroughly distracted. from that sea of blood, from the rain that threatens to take her by drowning her within it. there is no way around it. she didn't leave bodies in her wake, all cellinia did was slip away quietly. it is a lonely thought. that she could have grown attached to anyone, but was forced to let go of them to disappear again. she did notice the way mai's hand tightens around hers, was she thinking about it? that's what the wolf can't answer whenever her hand squeezes mai's in response.
was it a sense of comfort, that's the mystery. one that neither side can answer, but the idea that she can have somewhere to herself has been one cellinia got used to. eventually. that she was able to stop moving, stop having a nomadic lifestyle full of traveling and their own chaos. they would bring about their deliveries in the area and leave when the emperor decided he wanted a change of scenery. none of the girls argued as they joined, cellinia never did with him. he's already done more than most in taking her in.
they didn't need to worry. not about someone barraging in her lonely apartment, not about calls coming up that should be answered during their fun. their everything. she did seem to understand it was a blessing. they didn't have to deal with unwanted guests wondering what the two of them were doing. trying to even tell cellinia that she should reconsider quietly for many reasons, but there isn't any of that here. logic has long since disappeared and anything reasonable is only an afterthought to what poison runs through their veins. to that poison called desire, greed, and affection in their grim lives. that was something sought after. something desired.)
It can be nice, I like it. Not everyone wants to live alone, and that's fine. It's....peaceful.
(but lonely. that never changes, that loneliness in how she never has anyone there. how she didn't seemingly go out unless her friends talked her into it. cellinia never changed much, but she did blink slowly at the mention of the love bites and hickey's around her neck. around her collar, too. oh. right. she was having them on display, and maybe they did get a few glances before the other tenants carried on their usual.)
Can't deny that I can be shameless.
(whenever she wants to be, whenever she desires it most when they pause. her other hand reaches into her shorts pocket, a key pulled out and twisted into the lock before the door springs open to reveal to them this lonesome apartment. there's some clutter here and there, organized clutter. some books, some boxes. clothes gathered in a basket near the hallway leading to her bedroom. the clothes themselves luckily were muddy, she washes anything bloody immediately to save it from staining. aside from that there is the basics. a nice sofa with a blanket on it, almost like someone slept on it more. that someone being cellinia.
the kitchen and its amenities looked good, too. a little quaint yet minimally decorated apartment. the only decor so far would be those photos and the odd posters, photos of a seven-year journey cellinia had been on. if looked at closely at the start, she almost seems to be more tired.)
[Sure, it probably is better this way, with the neighbors completely unaware of Cellinia's true nature. It's nice around here, and calm, without any undercurrent of antagonism threatening to thwart an otherwise pleasant afternoon. This is what it must be like to live amongst civilians. Their ignorance and self-interest keeps them absorbed in their own happenings. Anything out of the ordinary is only paid a look of disapproval or confusion, but no one cares nearly enough to involve themselves in a bizarre foreigner's business. It must be so nice, so blissful to be this blind to the dangers that lurk about so plainly. And it's not just the wolf in their midst-- these people have no doubt walked past countless cursed spirits in their day-to-day lives, or might have even found themselves playthings for their wicked whims. They really don't know, do they? Mai can hear it already, the caustic words of her kinsmen about the talentless masses. If they died in droves, the Zen'in wouldn't even bat an eye. And here she is, walking amongst them, herself. These people have no idea about Mai or her pedigree, but no matter-- she's unfortunately closer to them than they would ever know.
As it is, even Mai only knows what the wolf has revealed to her, too. She's almost as ignorant as the neighbors they pass along the way. Almost, but only because she knows things she's sure that they don't-- the way that Cellinia looks at her just before they kiss, how she sounds when she feels Mai's hands roaming over her scarred flesh. Even to Mai, these things are still new, exciting, though still not revealing much of the woman who gives her these delights. Yes, Mai is little more knowledgeable than these other humans, but she'll cling onto her special secrets with a bit of a fluffed up ego.
And that squeeze of her hand in repose to her own touch-- it's simply another way that feeds that ever-present need to be be special, to be just a bit better than all of the others. Ah, perhaps Cellinia's self-reported shamelessness in boasting her lovely bruises is more fuel to that secret fire. The wolf didn't think that they were anything to hide, even around faces she sees often enough. Perfect. Mai wouldn't care much either, then. She highly doubts anyone would be walking up to either girl to lodge a complaint at their unashamed display, given how unapproachable they can certainly make themselves seem.]
Yeah, yeah, I remember. You're a little exhibitionist.
[There's an affectionate cheekiness to her tone, even while she casts a wary look over her shoulder in search of anyone who might be eavesdropping. The hall is empty save for the two of them, thankfully.]
I guess I can help you out with that, though. Earn my keep while I'm here.
[Mai can be a good guest when she wants to be. She'll sarcastically give credit to her mother's lessons, practically beaten into her-- though now they get to be twisted to suit her own self-centered adventures. Sure, she's arriving to someone's home empty-handed in the traditional sense, but she has plenty of other gifts she's certain Cellinia would appreciate better than some silly box of snacks.
Once the door is open and her hostess leads the way inside, Mai quickly follows after, kicking her shoes off in the entry way before standing in the middle of the main room to get to get a proper look at everything. Her eyes scan over the clutter, the books-- she wonders what kind of texts a wolf could be interested in reading, and as she wanders over to take a closer look, she notices a few photo frames standing upon a small table against the wall. Knew it. She knew this wolf would have trophies of some sort, proof that she's had her share of other pretty girls in these walls. When Mai takes one of the frames in her hands to satisfy her morbid curiosity, her eyes narrow a bit, though not purely out of some misplaced jealousy.
It's Cellinia, the way she carries herself in this snapshot. She's different--vacant, maybe, and weary -- or something along those lines that Mai is unable to describe concretely. She opens her mouth, wants to ask, but the curiosity tastes so blatantly bitter on her tongue that she purses her lips and rubs her thumb once over the wolf's likeness before casting her attention elsewhere.]
...why's there a blanket on your couch? Please don't tell me that's the 'bed' you were trying to get me into earlier.
[Of course, she's mostly joking (probably), but the look that Mai gives Cellinia is just a touch judgy, in a 'You live like a guy' sort of way.]
(truthfully, cellinia might have even detested the zen'in more had she known. that they likely would have turned nose up and everything at the sight of civilians simply living. that they may have found it funny to watch them perish or considered it a favor. as if it would have stoked within this wolf a fire that should never be brought back out again. a temper, something intensely lit and so very willing to shred those stupid enough to behave in a way she despises. she despises most the kind of people the zen'in family is. that's not even something to question about cellinia, that she might have even found the urge to hurt them there. that she would have considered stabbing her swords in the first of those foolish bastards for making more mistakes in their attitudes. their demeanor and how she would hate it. reminders of the old country were always terrible.
her changes from back then regardless, that didn't matter. she would have hurt them with her own two hands if she felt she could. if she felt she must, the wolf is rather protective of her loved ones. that is, if anyone were to reach that distinct honor that so few rarely could ever have in their hands. cellinia did seem grateful that they were alone. that nobody heard the way they spoke, spoke quietly about the marks and her streak of exhibitionism. mai's marks were something that she would wear without shame. no need to be ashamed of them, her lover left them and intends to cover her in more than that while the wolf reaches to remove her work boots. she's not too fazed that mai grew more curious about the photos on the table.
that one in particular she grabbed, cellinia was only just barely seventeen. taken from the old country with the idea that her new job would be good for her, if the wolf was asked then she would have responded with that she looked dead back then. that's the best description she could have given her little red riding hood. cellinia felt dead, there was no life in that expression. vacant staring, doubt, like she was going through the motions. a mystery in itself on what could have caused that, even with the cigarette seen in her mouth and her looking almost as though she'd rather not exist.
the other photos varied. some had her look more alive bit by bit, less like she were dead. more as though life had decided that she wasn't supposed to give up that fast. how depressing that a girl can look so dead, so....lifeless. for how she is now. but she won't say anything on that and the cause. she did notice the way her lover wanted to ask and decide against it. any time she might answer these questions would be much later. now? now she might only mention bits and pieces, nothing substantial.)
....don't worry, it's not my actual bed. I just sleep on it too often.
(never mind that she has it in her to look sheepish about being called out like this. she did live like a guy, she would sleep like so often that she forgets she has her bedroom. sora even made it a point to start recruiting croissant to shove cellinia in there over letting the wolf sleep on the couch. unfortunately, her main reasoning behind avoiding her bedroom was her nightmares. she didn't want to do something to her mattress, much less shred her pillows from any particularly bad fits of them.
while mai can take the chance to look around, cellinia did go into the first door in the nearby hallway. her actual bedroom, she left the door open if mai chooses to follow her (she won't stop her from looking around if she's that curious) to get a good look. the bed in there is nice and soft, decent bedding. a color scheme of grey and blue mixed together pleasantly, while the wolf is checking her closet for something that might fit her lover. she did have a number of baggy clothing if mai preferred, aside from dress shirts, hoodies, sweaters, and other odds and ends from her wardrobe. quite the trendy closet, admittedly. like someone pushed the wolf into dressing herself up more decently over something that looked unusual.)
I hope you're okay with me not having much of anything feminine.
(she didn't necessarily like dressing femme herself, it was rarer to even see cellinia in a skirt or dress. suits, shorts, and pants were her preference when it came to her wardrobe. something that's reflected in her more masculine demeanor often, she even did get made fun of for not changing her style much when the wolf returned to the old country.
maybe mai might prefer one of her dress shirts, hmm.)
[That photo remains in her hands, and after remarking on the odd sleeping situation, her eyes return to the face confined within the frame. Ghostly. That's the word that Mai decides upon, as she tries to tear her attention away from the young woman in the photo, and failing to do so. The Cellinia in that image is younger, sure, but there's a coldness there that's far beyond her years. An iciness that belongs more to the dead, a far cry from the simple aloofness that the wolf currently wears. It's uncomfortable to look at-- no, it's depressing to look at. Mai feels compelled to cast her gaze anywhere else, anywhere-- luckily, there are a few more pictures to attract her attention. Or unluckily, because this time, most of them have other cute girls hovering too close to her wolf. It's obvious that these photos show a Cellinia who is less empty, with more of a warmth to her stoic expression, likely thanks to these other girls. Mai can't decide if it pleases her or not.
Ah, well-- it's too much, it's too early in this strange relationship of theirs to feel her heartstrings tugged in such a way. It's not at all what she came here for, and yet something about seeing these little snippets of her lover's personal life will likely stick with her when she's all by herself, later on. Setting the last frame back in its place with a drawn-out hum, Mai turns away from the small table completely and gives Cellinia-- this Cellinia-- her full attention.]
What, is your bed that crappy? I'm starting to lose faith, here.
[This time, it's an obvious joke, punctuated by a lilting laugh in a reminder to the both of them that she had no qualms getting it on in the backseat of her car not too long before now. She makes this little quip to feed the sheepish look that Cellinia sports at being needled like this. Cute. Certainly a whole lot better than the face she wore in that old photo. Mai decides that she'll simply have to give her reasons to make only the loveliest expressions for the rest of their time together. Anything to dash away that haunting look from her mind...
Only a few moments pass once she's left alone in the living room, before Mai trails after Cellinia towards her bedroom. Oh, good. It's an actual bedroom, too, with a actual bed that definitely looks comfortable to sleep in. Huh. The girl will give another judgmental hum, raising her eyebrows to herself, yet another question on her lips-- but she decides that she'd rather peek at whatever her lover is up to in her closet. There's no shame in the way she walks up behind her, snaking her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder while she watches Cellinia rummage through her clothing.]
I'll live.
[Honestly, Cellinia's wardrobe suits the image she gives off-- Mai would be surprised if she caught a glimpse of lace or frills draped over the hangers instead of the decidedly masculine style her closet portrays. Regardless, it's not a terrible selection in the slightest, though Cellinia is right in that there are too few girly pieces for Mai to wear in the event that she truly had to raid her wardrobe.]
I don't mind letting you decide for me. Whatever you feel like seeing me in. [She trusts her hostess. Or at least, that's what her offer would convey, if she didn't speak up again: ] It's not like I'm gonna be wearing it for long, right?
[She laughs teasingly against Cellinia's neck, tightening her arms around her waist briefly before letting them fall to her side as she takes a step or two back.]
Tell me where your shower is. I'll get it going for us while you figure out our outfits.
(the way she looked in the other photos before mai had turned her attention away from them was much better. not like a corpse, more alive. the sight of her looking almost like she were the walking dead fades to the present her. cellinia could admit that she looked terrible, felt horrible back then. whenever she did feel something, anyway. there was a numbness to her that had lasted for quite some time, and that wasn't just her being aloof. it changed as time went on, those cute girls were her coworkers. the people she befriended. each with their own standout features that made them almost seem more like a gaggle of misfits than a group of couriers, but the emperor did start this venture because of cellinia. because he didn't want her to keep falling down on a path he knew would destroy her. it all started from simple curiosity, curiosity that became an urge to not leave her alone.
without that, cellinia would not be standing here. she wouldn't be alive. death would have come for her sooner as that saying remains. lone wolves do not last long for a reason. they're expected to die, expected to lose their lives for any number of reasons while the pack itself carries on. cellinia did have it in her to have a faint flush across her cheeks, nothing prominent. the other girls can't say they've seen her like this. not how she's standing there and even going over in her mind what she might like to see mai in most of her wardrobe.
or that had been the idea, until she pauses her search. to relax into her arms, that urge to kiss her lover is back again. how easy it would be to turn her head and do just that, she finds herself addicted to her lips already. cellinia even was comfortable to let her lover take hold of her, to rest her chin against her shoulder. mai is the slightly taller one of them, from what she's realized. not that the wolf minds it, though she has a feeling her lover might enjoy the idea of cellinia having to lean up a bit to kiss her. that she also has to reach up and take hold of her face like that to tip her head down for any others.
her laughter is a note that cuts through the thoughts more, she wasn't wrong. sooner rather than later, cellinia would remove that shirt she gives her. she even did pull out one of her button ups for her lover, she had worn it recently so it'd carry the most of her scent.)
True. (she murmurs, the thoughts she imagined earlier were there again. of mai borrowing what fits from cellinia's closet and taking it for herself. covering herself in a scent that is mixed of rain and nicotine. the dress shirts tended to tickle her imagination more, anyway. the idea of her lover wearing one and leaving it half undone; bearing skin that would get the attention of this wolf who would have been unable to help herself. her impeccable restraint aside, there's something here that makes cellinia unable to even resist.) I'll find mine then now, the bathroom is at the end of the hall.
(she'll have to show her which room has her utilities in it after, but it should be obvious. there's only one door left that isn't accounted for. cellinia is looking forward to this, somewhere more private with her lover. somewhere they could both not be found at. she doesn't normally bring back any kind of lover to her apartment, at least in the rarer times cellinia responded to those whims of her own. she even isn't the best of flirts from her prickly demeanor, but that was another thing the wolf realizes mai brought out of her. that the flirting felt so natural, so right between them. she couldn't help herself on that point, either. that point where she chased her more in her own way. with an earnestness that suited a wild wolf.
an honesty in her more animalistic desires, she spoke them out like they were poetry of their own.
she'll have to turn off her phone, to be safe. she didn't want to be interrupted by work suddenly because the emperor decided that they were all going to go after some stupid mooks around. he did like to add more to their job descriptions that shouldn't be there, and that also happened to include the girls winding up in fights with local gangsters. others who were making bigger mistakes in messing a little too much with penguin logistics. their rep isn't the greatest thing thanks to that. but they did have a rep for getting their work done regardless of those quirks. cellinia settles for herself finally, with one of her baggy shirts. she didn't need to wear any shorts underneath these and it makes for an easier time to remove.
given that they both know, they can't keep their hands off each other for long. with dress shirt and baggy shirt in hand, cellinia would be in the bathroom soon. she'll likely order them food if it gets to be a bit too late. it isn't as if she minds, sometimes cooking could be a pain whenever the wolf isn't in the mood for it. plus she has a feeling her goddess would want her undivided attention in all the ways her lover could ever have.
....maybe she wants to do that for her too, with giving her that much of her attention throughout the day, the night.)
[There's no way that the faint blush tinting Cellinia's cheeks goes unnoticed by Mai, even from her position close behind her. When paired with the way she relaxes some in Mai's hold, the girl can't resist feeling proud of herself for drawing out such a cute reaction from her stoic wolf. Perhaps it's the benefit of being in one's own abode, the lack of obligation to put on appearances for the outside world. Cellinia undoubtedly has to steel herself for whatever risky job she might be taking-- Mai can only presume that chasing after gangsters isn't the type of work that has her feeling soft and affectionate enough to blush around her colleagues-- so seeing her just a touch more at ease is very appealing to Mai. And she feels it too, the sliver of freedom to enjoy a little tenderness, herself. Being tough all of the time is exhausting.]
Oh, you want me in that, hmm?
[Out of everything that Cellinia might have selected for Mai to wear for her, the simple dress shirt is somewhat of a surprise-- and not an unwelcome one, actually, the more that Mai considers it. She could very well have tossed Mai a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and called it a day, unbothered by how she might be swimming in the fabric. There's nothing wrong with a casual and comfortable set of clothes to wear while she waits for her uniform to be tidied up-- but at the same time, there's something to be said of having to yank a hoodie over one's head when trying to indulge in some hot and heavy activities. It seems like her lovely wolf has put a bit of thought into this, especially with the implication that she might want to unbutton it herself, treating Mai like a pretty little present to be unwrapped for some fun later on.
She makes no further remarks, and has no complaints whatsoever about Cellinia's choice. It'll be a delight to see those eyes light up when she actually gets to see just how it'll flatter Mai. Certainly something to look forward to.]
All right. See you, then.
[Her parting words are drawn out in a sing-song voice, and she leaves Cellinia with the briefest of kisses upon her shoulder before ambling out of the bedroom. Just before she's out of sight, she casts a flirty smile back at her lover, whose wolfish eyes are sparkling with some manner of imaginative thoughts. Mai hopes that they're of her, is almost certain that they are, and leaves into the hall feeling more than a little pleased with herself.
Just as Cellinia indicates, the bathroom is situated at the end of the hall, behind a door that is slightly ajar. Easy enough to find. Once the light is switched on, Mai can quickly see that this room matches all of the others in this apartment, in that it's sparsely decorated aside from the essentials. There are mostly only towels on the shelves, and basic toiletries on the counter around the sink. It's a stark contrast to Mai's bathroom at her dorm, littered with all kinds of face care products in their eye-catching containers, at least three different colors of nail polish, a makeup bag that she can't close because she keeps shoving more items inside. You can hardly see the counter space beneath all of her girly clutter. Forget her earlier thoughts about Cellinia living like a guy-- it's more apt to say that she lives like Maki. This is almost exactly what Mai pictures her sister's place in the Tokyo dorms to look like, and the thought has her chuckling out loud despite herself.
Charming, but she'd never admit that out loud. Not in a million years.
Once she gets the shower water running, Mai waits for the water to warm up by lingering in front of the mirror again, admiring her reflection. Cellinia has earned the praise for following orders-- Mai can't see any of the bites she had left outside of the fabric of her dark uniform. It's perfect, considering the season, though it does make her mind wander to the possibility of more marks in more places once the weather begins to cool down.
But, now she's curious. Her fingers move to strip off her clothes and undergarments, impatient to reveal the well-hidden bites beneath. As soon ad the last bit of fabric hits the tiled floor, Mai returns her attention to the mirror with eager eyes. Oh, Cellinia's right-- it's indeed the loveliest view. The small blotches of red and violet that litter her pale skin are beautiful, a haphazard trail from her neck to her navel, before the mirror cuts off the rest of the wolf's handiwork. She knows where the rest are, though, the most secret of those marks.
Whenever Cellinia joins her in the bathroom, she'll find Mai trailing her fingers over each pretty bloom with a satisfied expression on her face.]
(letting down her guard can always be difficult, a task that many have given up on. not because cellinia doesn't trust them, but because of her issues with vulnerability. that's always the struggle. displaying it for someone and letting herself be at ease. it's never been the easiest thing, cellinia could even count the number of times that she's failed miserably at it. though it changes little, that she felt comfortable enough to blush for her lover. that she could let herself relax into her hold as though mai has a privilege that another soul would never be able to obtain, this is another thing to treasure from her. from this wolf who has gone through more than she could ever dare bring herself to admit. it isn't so bad. being in her arms, seeing the way that her lover approved of her choice.
good. it's a bit more tenderness between them, she didn't want to pick something too tedious to remove from her lover. she also wanted it to be something her lover would like to be in. easy to remove, easy to get comfortable in, and also even easier for mai to torture cellinia with. which did add into those imaginative thoughts. those thoughts she had when she feels her lover's lips brush up against her shoulder. she did look over mai's way, as expected her eyes were lit up. lit up and watching the way that mai had left. that flirty smile, the sing-song lilt to her voice. it's done more to her. maybe she is hopeless, to want to see it more. to want to hear that flirty tone and her way of smiling when cellinia is doing something that she likes already. but that's too fast. much too fast. then again, they've gone against reason. multiple times, against that and logic while together in how they skipped over steps.
but that's the thing about girls like cellinia, like them. moving fast....that was part of the thrill. whenever they had so little, they'd want it. there isn't any way around that in the way that cellinia chases and chases. all mai has to do is keep offering her the chase they both are enjoying. she'd keep showering her in her worship. in those lips of hers leaving more marks, more bruises, more where her teeth bit down into for her darling lover.
had she heard what her lover thought, she might have been confused. it isn't as though she knows about mai's family (not yet) as it stands between them. but her bathroom did have some cologne in it. subtle scents, nothing too strong due to her senses. too much can be overpowering, but she did enjoy the scent of mai's perfume as a nice little bonus. enough that she doesn't mind being covered more in her scent.
cellinia comes in quietly, with both the dress shirt for mai and that baggy number for herself. that one would be easy for mai's hands to slip under as she pleases. she could even remove it just as easily. that was what cellinia found best for herself. ah, but she did see the way her lover looks pleased in the mirror. how her hands trail along those bruises and the teeth marks she left. she doesn't speak, but cellinia does come up behind her lover after setting aside the clothing they'd both swap into. if only for now, to look over her shoulder as best as she could do. her own hands rest against her hips, a gentle rub into the skin while mai admires her handiwork.
she liked it that much, did she?)
It really is a lovely view....
(as she thought, she wants to leave more. that's unsurprising. she wants to decorate her in as many as mai would wish. to leave them all in those precious spots that only their eyes would know about. that only they'd have been able to see. she likes the idea too much, like marking her lover as solely hers and only hers. making her remember the way that she feels so possessive whenever it comes to her already. because she wants her.
it's another sin, another mistake on their growing list, but she did mean it. that she wants her to be hers. cellinia can't deny that. even if one day a part of her would want to run again.)
I could always leave more if you're not satisfied with only those.
(her lips brush against her shoulder as she speaks, cellinia even looks content breathing in her scent from this close. another part she wants to commit to memory. for this day, for more than this day.)
[If Cellinia is so keen on being tortured by Mai, then she shouldn't mind a bit of a head start when she strolls in, right? The room starting to get a little steamy by the time she arrives, but it only makes the teasing sight in front of her all the more appealing: Mai leaning over the counter, not a stitch of clothing on her body, smiling at Cellinia now in the reflection as she finds her place behind the preening girl. A low, blissful hum rumbles in Mai's throat once she feels those calloused hands settle comfortably upon her hips, and her heartbeat quickens when Cellinia caresses the flesh there.]
Oh, I agree. Bet you've never seen anything this incredible before.
[Of course, Mai won't ask if Cellinia has ever brought home a bitten-up lover before-- or even how many, an even worse question, really! Is there a point in stoking her jealous streak when she's feeling this coveted? Moving too fast, being unreasonable-- all of that can go right out the window when she's the center of attention like this. Forget those silly girls in the photo frames, and forget anyone else who has ever dared to imagine Mai's affections for their own. None of them could ever hope to steal the magnificent spotlight being shone on her right now amidst the wisps of steam from the shower. Not a single one could rob her of the pure joy at feeling so exalted whenever Cellinia gazes upon her like this.
That's the most dangerous part of getting involved with this wolf, the smothered voice of reason tries to squeak in the back of her mind. It's not the hands that could slice Mai to ribbons, now rubbing her hips affectionately; not the mouth that warned her of its hunger in the bites and bruises left in its wake, that precious mouth that currently presses faint kisses against her shoulder. No, the danger lies in those sweet admirations, that polite venturing for permission to bestow upon Mai even more of what she craves. The danger lurks in the fondness that lulls her into a sense of intimacy that she's wholly ignorant of. Any concentrated effort to make herself cold, to distance herself from falling into these strange feelings, is met with a firm resistance-- the antithesis to common sense, surely. It must have started with those promises exchanged, quietly binding them further, an ironclad thread wrapping around the parts of themselves that they would never imagine getting involved in this liaison.
Oh, but the real danger simmers in the way she can almost imagine something deeper between them, in the way that she nearly hopes that this 'something' could be more than just a product of the over-active imagination of a very lonely girl.
Mai likes it, all of it, far too much. There's no other reason why she would permit Cellinia to whisk her away all over the city and its outskirts, no other reason why she'd be the one chasing that addicting feeling of possessing and being possessed.]
Mm, you wanna satisfy me some more, huh?
[That suggestion of Cellinia's is twisted into something a touch more vulgar on Mai's tongue, but the way in which she runs her fingertips over that first bite at her neck makes it obvious that the promise of even more marks is still firmly on her mind.]
I think you missed a few spots, anyway.
[It's not worth the effort to point out where exactly. Cellinia can have her fun exploring Mai's body all over again, and discover those spots for herself.
How pretty she looks, contentedly breathing in her lover's scent as her lips continue grazing against her shoulder. It's a shame that her fading perfume will soon be traded in for the notes Cellinia wears, from her soap to the remnants of cologne lingering upon her dress shirt. Or is it such a shame? After all, it was one of the first things that the wolf admitted to Mai-- that she favors bathing her lovers in her scent, yet another mark of ownership.
Speaking of... ]
But, you know-- I'm the one who's actually falling behind, and that's not fair, is it?
[As much as she enjoys feeling Cellinia holding her like this from behind, Mai feels like seeing more than merely her reflection in the mirror, now. She turns her body entirely to face her and leans back a bit against the counter, displaying herself to Cellinia in all of her bare, marked-up glory. Her hand reaches out to fiddle with one of the straps of her tank top, and her eyebrows raise in a cheeky look that says 'We should get you out of these clothes, already.']
Sorry, but I don't want you looking in the mirror until I'm all finished, got it?
[And, of course, Cellinia will not be leaving the shower without several new marks to show for it.]
(she isn't wrong, she did like the view. the sight of her and her body. she's a thing of beauty. something cellinia appreciates heavily while making her feel special. mai is something special, though. this isn't just for no reason or to get into her pants only. that's nothing cellinia would change about how she feels and thinks. she likes the sight of her, bent over the counter and running her hands along her body. that's something lovely and better than cellinia could have seen alone. not even in her dreams at night of things less than innocent and more filled with the bloodshed, the violence and other ill moments of death and misfortune. those were further behind on her mind when cellinia hums into her lover's shoulder in approval. isn't it always a better view? like something that she never could have imagined for herself.
like something she never had before in the way her fingertips rub into the skin, their callouses a stark contrast again. it's beautiful. this lovely sight. this sight of her lover all for her eyes alone. amber eyes which take in her pretty face. memorizing every detail as another thing. another part of their time spent together and days soon to come as they've both began to think more about it. about that idea that they have someone who causes them to look forward to their upcoming days. their weeks, months. hasn't that always been what girls like them could have ever wanted? someone in their lives they never want to let go of. that they couldn't let go of from an aching desire to have their lover. their lover as only theirs, their body belonging solely to one in possession while cellinia does think about it.)
Best view I could ask for, all for me.
(it's a soft purr, a soft growl for her lover. it's addicting. that urge and that high that comes from it. possessing, owning, and craving. the sights of one another, their bodies a canvas for their touch. a touch of something more in which has them dyed into a certain color that fits one another. marks that bloom across the skin, teeth that bit down into precious places slowly. hands that touch and leave their own markings from the way they grab. like starved beasts, starved girls who had too little of love and tenderness. they could be more like animals themselves. more than anyone else could be in those cravings.
she speaks in soft admiration, she means those tender words is the frightening part. words that would never be said to someone else had cellinia any say in that. she doesn't speak this way. vulnerability would always be her deepest struggle, but it's harder not to be vulnerable piece by piece. a tender drop of her guard that mai has in her hands so sweetly. so closely. all while she marks her body as belonging to a wolf, hers. only hers in all this misery, this sorry excuse for a world which often has hurt them and more than that. she's listening, she's got her eyes on her pretty face with that look in them again.
that hungry look. restrained, but tender. soft, like she knows what they're both waiting on together. what they both want from the rest of their time together. she wouldn't dare let go of her, would she? could cellinia keep this girl in her arms and never once feel that urge again with her instincts, the way it would gnaw at her as time goes on? that she doesn't get this way? it's a mystery, a mystery she can't say she knows or anyone knows.)
I can go over those then when I get a chance to. When you want more of me, bella signora....seems like we're both greedy for it.
(she can't deny that. she did want to satisfy mai more, she wants to leave her feeling lighter than she came to see her as. she wants mai to feel so at ease, to feel free. isn't that fitting for the woman who freed herself to want to not let her lover feel such misery that she knows too well? but enough about that, mai did have a point about their current states. cellinia has left more marks on her body than mai has on cellinia.
the turn of her bared body to face her lover, the lean of her back to the counter while mai grabs the straps of her tank top. she's not going to shy away now, not ever in how the wolf comes closer for her lover. her little red riding hood she runs her hands now along the thighs of idly. those amber eyes are soft, they're something pretty while she has them half full of hunger and something brighter for mai.)
That's right, you said you wanted to leave me a leopard, didn't you?
(but it didn't stop her, not from peppering kisses on mai's neck as she hums it out lowly for her. it's a slow tease, a tender tease because she knows her lover would want to undress her, this time. cellinia had done it earlier for her. it's only fitting she's a good girl for her while mai's soft hands brush against scars. whatever patches of soft skin she has along her upper body, all for mai.)
Come on, dolcezza. I want your hands on me.
(another word, another reminder. at least it wasn't "cara mia", like that wolf would have done in her sharp twisted smiles and own wants for the other one. she wasn't going to call her that so soon. but maybe she can use some other words, some other sweet things until that day comes where she calls her "amante".
[This wolf truly has a way with words, doesn't she? 'All for me.' Goodness, how many stories warn pretty young girls against falling for the honeyed words of relentless beasts? Any proper young lady with sense ought to be dreaming of white knights to give her heart to. A perfect 'happily ever after,' just like every little girl is promised, so long as she's well-behaved and pure in her intentions. And yet, here Mai is, besmirching her family's good name by giving her body to a growling wolf whose eyes never cease in devouring her completely. The best view, without a doubt-- the best of everything, really, as Cellinia is surely becoming aware of after enjoying a sweet sampling of it in the back of her car.
Besides, who needs a white knight, anyway? What a waste of a daydream. This cruel world seems all too happy to hammer the lesson home that no one will come to save a hopeless little girl, no matter how desperately she wishes or how pure-hearted she is. All the better, then, that Mai's heart is the farthest thing from pure. She'd frighten off any well-meaning knight, and look down on them for even trying to show her a picture-perfect ending. They'd recoil from the kind of person she really is-- but a beast wouldn't. This beast doesn't. If she so desired, Cellinia could sink her teeth into Mai's rotten little heart, drink up the juices that would send any would-be knight to his death, and let it fuel that animalistic appetite even further.
After all, what every monster desires is a young girl's heart, no? And the best ones would not even bat an eye at the misery that makes the taste of it bitter-- no, the best kind of monster would relish the taste of despair. They would know how to distort it, corrupt it even further, making that girl unfailingly theirs, never again to seek out some nonexistent fairytale ending. Won't you savor that despair, too, Cellinia? Could you, the day Mai decides that only a beast could deserve her cruel and lonely heart?]
Me? Greedy?
[She feigns offense, or makes a half-decent attempt at it, but the knowing glint in her eyes betrays her from the get-go. It's a trait she's aware of, one she never identifies by name, and hearing Cellinia call her out so casually makes her feel a little liberated. And dangerously so, from the smug smile that tugs at her lips.]
Got me all figured out already, huh?
[This accusation is purred affectionately enough. Though now, with both of them plainly acknowledging that they're not at all interested in self-restraint, it feels easier to let go a little more. Cellinia's hands stroking her thighs-- their familiar place, there-- has Mai melting for her. Pleasant sighs spill from her lips, punctuated by soft hisses and gasps when she feels Cellinia draw herself closer to kiss enthusiastically along her neck. And then, a breathy laugh when Cellinia insists on Mai's hands upon her, in return.]
Look at you-- making demands of me, greedy little pup.
[Ah, there's that slip of her mother tongue, another pretty word that Mai doesn't understand, though she's at least aware enough that Cellinia likes to speak it when uttering sweet nothings to her lover. She won't ask after it, not when she's plenty satisfied with how her wolf's mouth is occupied with kissing her. Well, greedy pups deserve to be rewarded, even when they're demanding. Mai brings her hand to the back of Cellinia's head, finding her hair tie and tugging it free, spilling pretty dark locks down her back and over her shoulders. Her fingers immediately comb through her hair, after giving her fluffy ears a tender stroking, appreciating the way they twitch beneath her touch. Her other hand is already roaming up Cellinia's back, halfway under her tank top, her fingertips trailing up and down her spine.
As much as it pains her to do so, Mai will slightly push her off, but only so that she can yank her top completely over her head. Better. It'll be much more enjoyable to pull Cellinia against her once again, a closer and tighter embrace this time, before kissing her deeply with a low hum of appreciation and unbridled need. It's perfect, feeling their skin flush with one another's. Mai is almost certain she can feel Cellinia's heart thumping against her chest, just as she knows that Cellinia can feel the erratic rhythm of Mai's own in exchange.
After a handful of kisses, Mai pulls away just enough to lower her head and nip firmly at the soft flesh below her lover's jaw. It should compliment the other marks nicely, Mai thinks to herself, while her hands busy themselves with either cupping at Cellinia's breast-- another place Mai has a hankering to nibble some souvenir onto-- and slipping teasingly beneath the waistband of her shorts, her nails digging softly into her hip.]
You're lucky that it really bothers me, leaving a job unfinished.
[The shower should be ready for them, whenever they decide that they've had enough with this warm-up. While Mai isn't in a terrible hurry to rush them, her mind is brimming with all of the places on Cellinia's perfect body that she wants to kiss and suck bruises onto. She imagines that most of her work would be best done atop a bed-- whichever of Cellinia's two beds they'll find themselves on once they've toweled off.]
(that's right. they never needed a knight. one of them became a monster, a beast. a beast that was on the prowl, on the hunt and too willing to kill when it suits her most. too willing to latch those teeth of hers on someone, bite down and feast on them alive. that's only nature. nature that could be frightening in how cellinia could show it. she didn't need to restrain herself when it comes to those moments, she'd bare her teeth and make a nice meal of anyone that foolish. but that was so very lonely for the beast too, isn't it? beasts without a home are the loneliest little things, hungering for one and wanting the touch of another. the feel of them so tender while they keep demanding more. everything down to what little could ever be left of precious girls that found themselves ruined in an equal fashion to them. precious girls who were as lost as they are, destroyed by the cruelty of the world.
they didn't need a knight, they lured in beasts. beasts like her who finds it too easy to drink of this fountain between them. affection that seems to be something only they'd understand, touches that light them on fire. make them feel again because it's evident that the world itself didn't care enough about their lives. only how to destroy them, only how to bring ruin on what once was beautiful souls. lonely girls like her only had to twist the beast themselves into their hands, lure them in further with such sweet promises. the offering of bodies while they give more, so very much more than most would have obtained. their teeth could snap into hearts like mai's, so full of despair and her own lonely desire.
could she ever drink it so deep? she might, she might even have a feast fit for a beast while letting this lonesome girl carve deeper into her body that demand of wanting the beast.
not a knight, only a beast. not a knight alive could withstand the beast who wants a girl like this. they're all so difficult, so terrible to try and kill. that only comes as fact from their suffering, their own agony and despair. they could drown it and nobody would know, just the same way they could drown their poor lover forever with them. but did it matter? what if they wanted to drown, what if they craved to be pulled under this current with their lover and forget about what's hurt them? forgot about the despair, the agony, the ways that nothing ever seemed to fit or go right? would she love that, would you, mai? to drown in that rain your wolf smells strongly of and let go like you both never existed to anyone other than each other?
isn't that all too fitting that they both come apart and decide their agony, their cruelty, is only fit for one another as those thorns cut so deep that nobody else could touch them?)
Greedy....yeah, you like it, you can't get enough of it, can you?
(because she can't. she couldn't, how cellinia murmurs it so heatedly. a fit of fire to that ice in her tone and in her veins. it only gets hotter at her gasps, that breathy laughter when the wolf makes that demand clear. greedy pup, huh? she doesn't like being called one (not usually) but exceptions are something made easily. like now where mai gets that much, an exception from the beast that is comfortable between her legs. that so happens to run her fingers along her bare thighs, trailing along in their rightful place on her body.
one of their rightful places when a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation of her tank top riding up halfway along her back. at her fingertips trailing along her spine and the other hand stroking those fluffy ears after taking her hair down. the twitch of them pleased by mai's hand working a sort of magic into them. she's melting again, but that's not a surprise. not too much of one while cellinia is coaxed back for her lover, to part enough for her and stop running her mouth along her neck for now. she won't complain, she knows why her lover needed her to.
the tank top falls to the floor with ease, cellinia even helping without a second thought before she's pulled in close. the skin flush and her battered body pressed against mai's softer skin. her heart is racing, it's obvious against mai's chest. she can feel how mai's own is hammering from their closeness. the closeness of their tight embrace before the kiss. deep, hungering, not in any rush from how well deserved it is thanks to their waiting earlier. god was it hard, she felt like an addict for her lips. for her kiss in how she needs more of those soft lips, more of her tongue brushing against her own. more of those sounds that she gets fed into them, cellinia even fed mai some of her own for that with each kiss. each growing more hungry, more wanting.)
Can it be helped if I can't get enough of you myself? I like it when you get this way, wanting more and and more. How much do you want those pretty lips of yours on me, dolcezza?
(she's always like this, always. how her head goes back enough to give mai more of that tender flesh she's after, how she moans softly for her. another mark for her to display, another as she shivers again from the sensation of nails teasingly digging into her hip. the soft press of them while her breast is cupped and palmed by her lover. her own hands squeeze into her thighs, not too hard and not too soft. near firm in the way they her claws press gently into them. a light threat, but they both know she wouldn't. not unless her lover willed it.
a light warm up before the shower isn't so bad. the slowness was fine, though cellinia knows not to take too long. they'd run out of warm water before they could get to the better part, the part where mai would decorate her body against her mattress in return for her being a good little beast for her. while breathing out these pretty words, these words she means. these words she wouldn't hold herself back on saying. don't you like it when the beast speaks so freely in her want? how she seems hellbent on making you feel something too more than misery and being numb to it, mai?)
[Oh, this ice queen has some fire in her, does she? Mai is almost taken aback at how boldly she speaks to her, accusing her hotly of being absolutely insatiable-- though she's moreso taken aback in a way that has her grinning against Cellinia's neck in a wicked, dizzying delight. How dare she, this wolf of hers-- how dare she tell Mai exactly what she sees, a very greedy girl who, indeed, can't get nearly enough. How dare she declare it in such a manner that taunts Mai into wanting to be deliciously ruthless, and show the wolf just how right she is. Maybe she's just a human, but a spurred-on Mai can certainly do her best to give a beast a run for her money. After kissing the space next to her windpipe with a marked affection, she sinks her teeth in hard while raking her nails firmly across Cellinia's hip, laughing quietly against her skin.]
What-- you're gonna cut me off, now? Right when I'm about to have some real fun?
[She draws out this bit of teasing banter. Merciless teasing, rather-- which is all too obvious in the way her eyes lock onto Cellinia's when she pulls away from her neck. Maybe she shouldn't have riled her up, but maybe Cellinia will enjoy the way her own feral nature is rubbing off on Mai, just a little bit. After pressing her back against the wall opposite the sink, Mai takes the hand she has at her chest and slides it up to stroke Cellinia's face affectionately, contrasting against the sharp sensation of her nails in the skin of her hip. When she smiles at her lover, now, the softness belies a cruel pleasure at having her big bad wolf in cage made of beautiful flesh.]
But, of course you like it, though. Those other girls-- [ and she refers to the ones in the pictures that Cellinia has displayed in the main room ] --they don't look like the types who can get you so hot like this.
[Just like this, just where Mai knows that heat burns most passionately. Her eyes never look away the entire time she glides her other hand beneath the waistband of Cellinia's shorts, undoing them just enough to make space for her fingers to dip beneath her panties and touch her lazily in that place her fingers are already well-acquainted with. It's obvious from how wet she is that this craving is starting to become desperate. How lovely, the ease with which Mai can work her up. And yet, Cellinia runs her mouth so brazenly, still! She wants to bait Mai into confessing how much she wants to mark her, taste her, fulfill that promise to leave her wholly claimed by her-- but Mai has other ideas, of course.]
Ha! How much do you want my lips all over your body, Cellinia? You know what? I bet you've been aching for it so badly this entire time. Bet you were thinking of it while you were lapping me up, hoping you'd get your turn soon.
[Her voice drips with the absolute sweetest flavor of mocking. Really, it practically gets her off to taunt Cellinia like this. It'll get her into trouble, surely. But Mai can muster up some proper fearlessness when it suits her. What else is there to do, when neither of them want to back down from the challenge that only seems to mount higher and higher?]
So-- my hands weren't enough for you, hmm? Wanna taste yourself all over my tongue, next-- is that it?
[Satisfied with having stroked her lover just enough-- enough for Mai, definitely not for Cellinia-- Mai withdraws her fingers and brings them to her lips, giving them a single swipe with her tongue. Her eyes are alight with a dark amusement, watching Cellinia in the hopes of seeing something that will only feed that ravenous feeling.]
Guess you're in luck, again-- because I'm starving.
[And Mai decides-- cruel girl that she is-- that she'll make Cellinia beg for it, because she's the prettiest when she's brought to the brink. Forced to restrain herself while her wolfish eyes give her away entirely. There's little Mai finds that she loves more than shattering Cellinia's patience, over and over. She declared that she'd make this beast her own, after all. How else will she make good on that word, other than to take the shreds of bravery in her possession, and forge them into a weapon of pure ecstasy?]
But, I dunno-- should I get on my knees for you, right now? We've got a nice, hot shower waiting for us...
['I can be patient, unlike you,' her cheeky smile seems to say.]
(cruel pleasure, that cruelty exists. she feels it in the way mai digs her nails in her hip. how she's pushed back against the wall. they're staring eye to eye again. mai's teeth biting down harshly into her neck. no, this is what she wanted to see. she wanted to see her. see how greedy her lover is, see the way she keeps wanting more from her. how much she has to have it, taking every inch of it offered before her like something given in worship. she loves it more than cellinia could ever say, in how her eyes shimmer from cruel teasing. cruel torturous pleasure in how her lover makes it clear that she knows her in what little time they've had together. she's paid attention well. in how she wants to drag out the big bad wolf into being wholly hers. she wanted her teeth and her bite solely as her own. cellinia herself must be pleased mai could even respond this way.
she wants every part of her, those hands and her mouth. those pretty lips all over her own. her hands taking hold of her body, cellinia finds it impossible to not imagine it. can't she ever be normal, is a question that's always been there. her father would at times ask this. accusatory and everything, that his daughter was not behaving the way a woman should. she didn't need to behave like, she didn't want to. what she wanted was something else. something more. she relishes in the softness with those scratches raked along her hip. how mai's hand seems so gentle against her cheek while cellinia leans her head into it at first.
she's thoughtful, thinking whenever she hisses out her moans. the moans her lover wanted to hear in such cruelty. in response to her mockery, even, how she has a growl rumble down her throat. mai would feel it from their closeness, she knows. she knows she'd feel the way cellinia's heart threatens to leap out of her chest. how it has yet to stop hammering for her in the way the wolf looks at this girl, this little red riding hood before her. cellinia doesn't say anything more, not yet, she has something in mind she wants to do first.
she threatens teeth in the heel of her hand as her lips brush against it, as if to say she would have bitten it if she could have. like she wanted to, but knows her lover would almost surely punish her. that was only a show of what mai could ever have craved for, in how she answers cruel pleasure with faint threats. faint threats and promises of teeth around the corner if pressed the right ways.)
I want your mouth on my body, leaving those pretty markings you wished to. All over, no matter if they're seen or not. I want your hands on me....leaving scratches, bruises, touching me so much you're all that haunts me.
(because she's by no means, not the type of girl to not feel greedy when allowed to be. cellinia even shows it, in how her eyes are dark with that craving. how much more is she going to spill out for their challenge? how much higher is it going to go? she responds so easily, so naturally. she wants to keep it going even as she whines almost from mai's fingers leaving that wet heat of hers. that must be a lovely sight. watching how she refrains from whining, and how she must be staring at the sight of her licking a single time her arousal and musk off her fingers.
she knows her too well, too well how she likes this. and maybe she would explain later that those were her friends, her coworkers. mai didn't know this, yet. she'll tell her later whenever they're not about to lose their minds in multiple ways when she sees that cheeky smile. that damn cheeky smile which calls out to her again, the sight of it another thing of beauty. something else she memorizes again to herself without a second thought. how many of those can she see? how much of her can she get while she wants to claim this girl as hers?
who knows, cellinia surely doesn't. she might never when she finds herself letting go more in the things she says.)
I want to taste you until you're the only thing I know, I want to haunt you as much as I wish you'd haunt me after this day.
(but she knows, they do need to be patient. if the water ran out before they could get clean, what good was their fun?)
I want to be ravenous for you, dolcezza, after this....
[Perfect, it's utterly perfect, the sight of Cellinia's eyes shining with silent awe at Mai's audacity. This is the goddess you wish to worship, darling wolf. A goddess made of flesh and blood so rotten that Cellinia will, without a doubt, lose her mind once she's picked her bones clean. A merciless goddess who will grant the impassioned wishes of her devotee, but not before robbing her of everything that had ever made sense in her life. Was there even much to begin with, Cellinia? Surely not, or else she would have never lingered to finally lay her eyes upon the face of a capricious girl-- one who, similarly, has little left worth holding close to her true heart.
A shame, the way that both of their father's would be so disappointed in them for their complete disregard for propriety. They ought to be cloaked in shame before one another, their families' best and worst, daring to be anything other than what their proud lineage dictates-- and what Fate dictates, too.
Ah, but it seems that Fate has changed her tune, hasn't she? No longer does she play the frantic melody of a chase between a hunter and the hunted, the tension so taut that the strings could snap at any moment. This time, Fate crafts them a perfect requiem meant for the haunting ghosts that Cellinia so ardently wishes them to become for one another. Fate, ever-silent in the manner with which she draws these two love-starved girls together, plays this dirge for them, and wills them to dare to be reborn in these little deaths that they promise one another.
Mai, herself, could never have believed that she'd ever want to completely crumble in the hands of a beast who professes herself to her with such poetry. Cellinia wants it all, does she? She yearns for Mai to leave irrefutable proof that she was here, thoroughly claiming this wolf for her own. She practically pleads for her to bury her soul in those bruises and scratches that Mai will unquestionably leave her filthy with. And when she feels the threat of those teeth against the heel of her palm, Mai can't suppress a sinful, gleeful grin-- Cellinia is all but promising to bequeath her own soul in return.]
Oh, Cellinia...
[Her name is murmured so sweetly, while Mai rubs the tip of her thumb slowly, menacingly against the corner of her wolf's threatening lips.]
I'm gonna ruin you.
[Because it sounds like an awful lot like a curse. Cellinia wants to curse Mai, curse her so deeply that not even the best sorcerers could ever hope to exorcise her. And Mai is already so pitifully condemned, and always has been from the moment she drew her first breath. This promise, this vow that Cellinia offers her lover to make with her-- it would only serve to make her whole, wouldn't it? To make that curse that had split Mai's soul in two, complete again. Ah, but what an uneven exchange this might be! Because Mai believes that she only has fragments left to offer, but will greedily take everything that Cellinia could possibly give her.
Indeed-- this pact will only ruin you completely, her pretty little wolf.]
I can't wait-- I can't wait to leave you an absolute wreck for me. Just like you want.
[And just like Mai wants to, but she'll leave that unspoken. Neither of them are leaving this place alive. And it doesn't need to be said-- or perhaps, Mai is still to proud to say it aloud-- that there is not a sliver of a chance that Mai won't be utterly haunted, herself, by Cellinia and these pretty words that she speaks without reservation. They're a foreign tune in her ear, one that has insidiously wormed its way into her mind, demanding to be replayed over and over and over whenever the inevitable loneliness creeps in too close.
'After this day...' Cellinia is condemning them both to ruin until they find one another again, isn't she? Such a cruelty of her own, one far more covert than Mai's, but no less treacherous.]
But, sweet-talking me like that-- [ and how addicted Mai already is to those alluring words ] --is really starting to frustrate me. I think I'll just have to make you pay for it, a little...
[What does she mean by that? Cellinia can use her imagination for a bit, while Mai strips her of the remainder of her clothing with far more impatience than she had boasted earlier. Not even the sight of Cellinia bared completely for her now does away with that frustration, instead only making it burn with more intensity.]
Go on-- get inside. If the hot water runs out, then you're really going to get it.
(that's the beauty of it, isn't it? that the beast is demanding it, following along in her alluring words and worship. it didn't matter, not the merciless promises or the promise of sweet ruin. that feeling of everything coming undone in the eyes of a merciless goddess. ruin her, mai. ruin her the way you want to, to keep her coming back for you. for more. nothing ever has made sense in their lives, the lives of two love-starved girls who were chewed up and spat out by the world. they're every bit a song of their own in the making, a story of their own while they still breathe. how long until their love starved hearts say and demand it? because they're falling harder, faster than anyone would have predicted for them. that texas could fall so fast is the unexpected part, that she's listening. she's hearing every word like it's something else she desires. something else that a beast like her could ever want.
their father's would have deemed them lost causes, the best going as far as to touch the worst. to kiss and speak so sweetly to her. to touch her like she's special, to fuck her so tenderly that it would mean something more than this. than what would be considered a mistake on their parts, cellinia likes it. she likes that feeling of her body against hers, she likes even the way that her lover presses into her with those thorns. the thorns of a woman so very hungry and wanting, so greedy for affections offered to her. so demanding of them, like she never wanted to be satisfied. she wants them all. she wants every part of it.
how this goddess wants this wolf down to the last drop. they're a pair of lost girls, senseless and unreasonable. suffering a slow and miserable existence. who cared about them? whoever could about their starved little souls more than one another in the way they're both falling to pieces for it so early? that dirge calling out to them down to their souls is only demanding more of them, break to pieces more and more. come undone the way that their jaded hearts could. touch each other well off into the night and beyond that until they could no longer think straight, maybe even until they couldn't help the way they would forget everything. that they're not those ruined and lost girls the world made them into.
so why don't you, mai? bury her soul in your touch, carve it into something that you could only have and drown in your love? who needed fate when they have one another, who needs cruel fate and all its misery when their touch is a salve that they both never had in their lives. the cruel and soft words uttered, the threats soft and tender. they speak so sweet and so full of affections that another saner person would have wondered what kind of twisted affair this is between them. that's only how they show it, how they show everything in their own ways. her goddess longs to hear it, how the wolf and her beautiful eyes so wild could ever want her.
her name, spoken so sweetly. that promise on her tongue, the vow. she'd ruin her with a run of her thumb along the corner of her lips. her goddess touching them like she has ideas for those pretty lips of cellinia's that doesn't stop how they sweet talk to her. how they speak out such alluring promises. promises and vows of the world, of how she only wants one goddess. how they could ever have only each other in this world, nothing else could dare to compare to them. to the touch of her beautiful goddess that she stares at with those lovely amber eyes that she adores.
so full of want, so full of everything for her. isn't she beautiful? coming undone for her in words and prayers, hymns murmured against her skin. like she found new religion in the touch of her body, in the taste of her lips. in her moans and crying out for her. her most precious devotee who feels her heart beating faster. she wants that so much.
then ruin her, mai, ruin her so sweetly. so cruelly that the touch of another would be nothing. that only your hands could heal her, that only you could make her feel something again of her own. that all she needs is you. only mai, only her and what remains of their hearts. what remains of cellinia who gives so dearly these pieces of herself for her lover. for a goddess that wants to keep her beautiful beast in her hands and arms.
that's more than enough of a prize for someone as starved as they are, isn't it?
but never mind that, she hears her goddess. she's frustrated, is she? about those alluringly tempting words. words which come out those pretty lips so naturally. she means it all in this vow that's uttered. that craving and demand. how they seem to never stop and how cellinia can't help the way she wants to see her again after this day. she wants to ruin this goddess, too. in her own cruelty, she wants her to never forget what she speaks in reverence. what she utters to her heated and endless, in tender worship of lips against her lover's body.
against the body of her goddess when she catches what she was meaning, her body is bared. so within reach yet not in her dear goddess' impatience. cellinia doesn't argue or anything, their bodies separated and the sight of her prowling invitingly into the glass door of the shower. a look over her shoulder briefly at mai before she steps in proper. the heat of the water does nothing to calm this intensity and need she feels for what lit under her that greed again.)
Vieni, dolcezza, dammi il tuo bacio mentre riesco solo a pensare a te e al tuo tocco....
(if she translates it for her, that would be another time. but it was clear in how cellinia stared at her before then, before she spoke, isn't it? she wants her and she'd ruin mai too.)
[Oh, Cellinia can only imagine how right she is about her little goddess. It's true, after all-- Mai desires in a way that will never leave her satisfied. She doesn't want to be satisfied, not completely, and certainly not in a manner that could leave her happy enough to never seek out more. This is what becomes of girls who have been so starved of love and affection their entire lives, you see. It doesn't matter how torrential the rains of adoration might fall, one day. The parched desert of their loneliness will drink it all up in a single night, nearly drowning in it-- only to proclaim its unquenchable thirst yet again once the sun rises once more. Mai is greedy, that goes without saying by now, but Cellinia willingly chooses to feed a hunger she knows is insatiable.
It almost makes one wonder-- who is the beast amongst the two of them, now? Wordlessly, it's as if they had traded roles, encouraged by the parts of themselves-- those unreasonable parts, buried oh so deeply-- that are calling out to one another. These fragments, so neglected and brittle, now glow hotly with a passion that has been awakened purely by chance. And though they still hide far beneath the surface, encased in the thorny shields forged from past anguish, these secret parts of them are almost, almost daring to trust one another. A curious sight-- the wolf, scarred with sin, prostrating itself before a girl, beseeching her to devour it, this time. Right the wrongs, even the scales by becoming the beast, now. How liberating it could be for the two of them to exchange their places, if only for today.
Mai takes a final glance in the mirror before she follows Cellinia beyond the foggy glass door-- still a girl, still a human, and very much not the beast she feels burgeoning inside. Yet something has shifted. Imperceptible, almost, save for a split-second of clarity the instant Mai meets her own eyes in the reflection. The triumph that she knows she tastes-- and one she anticipates tasing like Cellinia, sooner or later-- is sweetened by the surrender that coats it thickly, now.
'Come ruin me,' Cellinia implores her, perhaps even challenges her, with that dark need pooling depthless in her wolfish, amber eyes. But there is surrender, there, Mai can feel her own body responding to it with every electric tingle lighting up her nerves.
Her fingers grip the wet door handle, pulling it shut softly behind her. Warm steam pours into her lungs immediately, leaving her breaths a bit more shallow. That's fine, though-- Mai is already quite dizzy with something else. She can't put a name to this emotion. For her own peace of mind, she rarely ever does-- who would want to admit to the kind of feelings that seize their very soul, drawing them out from the safety of numbness? So, she'll leave it nameless. Better to let her hands map out the answer for her, instead.
Cellinia's back is turned towards Mai, still-- she'll keep it that way, wrapping her arms around Cellinia's torso and gently pushing her against one of the tiled walls. They're standing beneath most of the running water, and it's pleasant enough, especially with the way it feels when Mai presses the length of her body against her lover's, urging her more firmly against the wall.]
That's right-- forget about me, you know you want this, too.
[But of course, what Mai intends on doing now won't have Cellinia forgetting her anytime soon. She slides her fingers across her upper back, catching the long hair in a way that allows her to slip it over one of Cellinia's shoulders. Now, Mai has a perfect canvas to work with and make beautiful. After palming the expanse of her back, savoring the feeling of those firm muscles beneath the wet skin, she dips her head lower to lap along the rivulets of water traveling down the nape of Cellinia's neck. Her lips descend upon where her tongue traces, tender kisses against skin flushed from the heat of the shower.]
There you go again... [ She murmurs hungrily against the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting down with a softness to start.] Hiding yourself away in that tongue of yours. But you know what? That's fine by me.
[A shame that Cellinia can't see the naughty smile tugging at her lips, though it would be obvious enough in the tone of her words that Mai is up to something quite wicked. With one arm still wrapped around the woman's waist, Mai drags her free hand down Cellinia's scarred abdomen and further down until it finds its familiar place between her thighs. She won't even bother stifling a satisfied little laugh as soon as she finds what she's searching for.]
Because I bet-- [ and her fingers begin to stroke slowly, slowly at her clit, wanting to ruin Cellinia with her touch long before she gets to tear her down completely with her mouth in that same lovely place ] --I bet I don't need to know exactly what you're saying, when I can feel how much you're enjoying me.
(isn't it better this way? that she could keep demanding it, every drop of rain from an endless storm. from the girl that has a raging tempest inside of her, endlessly it rains down and pours it's never ending downpour on those who dare tried to withstand this beautiful storm. this storm of misery that threatens to drown anyone foolish enough to unleash it. she knows. she knows the way that it rains on them both longer and longer while they're together. into that desert which is unending in its depths of heat and threatening to sink them both down in sand and rain blending together. a bottomless greed, insatiable and cruel, beautiful love. because she doesn't deny it, cellinia wouldn't. not that she'd feed her more of that rain, more of it until they're both left ruined.
until they both drown in it, in what it blooms and what it costs them from the bottomless depths of desire. it didn't matter who the beast was, who the actual one could be. not the way she offers herself so boldly to a woman who never had freedoms that cellinia obtained by killing her own. they're too good at complimenting one another. sinful and beloved daughter, sinful and beloathed daughter. taking both by the throat as they find themselves brought down. the grip of it threatening to suffocate like the rain cellinia brings with her for this lonesome goddess she finds herself devoteed in such ease. that anguish, that crying out of their poor souls is unending in itself. fractured, torn to pieces, aimless, and numbed to everything when they were ruined once before. the world never takes kindly to girls who want nothing more with some manner of innocent sweetness in their hearts. they're nothing to that cruelty and the way it shapes them.
she waits, her back turned and tempting in the black and red strands of her lengthy hair against it. a canvas for her lover when she's pushed firmly against the wall. her forehead, pressed against it with mai exposing every bit of soft skin she could ever desire in the patches of roughness along it. her canvas is somewhere she has more she can mark. somewhere that she feels tension easing from the brush of her hand against the firm muscles. the lap of her tongue against her nape drawing out sweeter sighs, shaky breaths while cellinia braces herself with a hand to the tiles of this wall she's pressed into.
even like this, the corner of her beautiful amber eyes is on mai. as best as she may, they speak plenty of what she wants. they say it more than words alone could ever at this moment where she's pressed firmly between the wall and feeling the length of mai's body against her. ah, she wants to kiss her again already. isn't she utterly hopeless? that she could want her lips so much yet doesn't beg for them. she wants to feel them against her skin.
she wants them to chase after their own insatiable greed in how the goddess wants this wolf all to herself. the wolf who sighs out the prettiest of songs for her lover, her little red riding hood and goddess in how she stands. legs parted enough as mai speaks. while she leaves tender kisses along the expanse of her back, along every inch of it her goddess could ever desire as her own to paint in a color she'd know. this marking that would stay carved into her body.
ruin me, just like this. she mouths it wordlessly, she needs it and finds that urge to ruin her lover in kind is there. so strong and demanding in its own want to never let mai forget about a lonesome beast that wants to be haunted by her, that wants to be cursed to never forget her face and to chase it. chase it until she finds her again, until she can touch her and have mai again. until mai could have the wolf that wanted nothing more than to ruin her, too.
come on, lover, ruin her. the way you want to, the way you have to as a means of tying this lonely and jaded girl to you forever. into having her never leave you alone. her teeth sinking in your skin, claiming you forever as her own while never letting go of you. ruin her so beautifully that she can only dream of you, mai.
that she would haunt the dreams of a wolf and remain, chasing away everything in it's violence.)
F-fuck....(she doesn't always speak crassly, not out of her second language. the words hungry and making her shiver. the teeth biting down in a lovely spot that her lover found. that mai picked out in a tender mark of teeth against it, her sweet sighs are shaky. the softness of her moans echoing against the walls. no, she wasn't wrong. cellinia speaks and purrs out the words she wants to say in it and never says what they mean.
that mai was right, her body betrays her in her silence on the matter in how she shudders at the slow stroke of her clit. the delicious torture, the tease of it in how cellinia doesn't struggle in her surrender. does she say it for her? speak out that poetry she hides behind in utter reverence now and tip them over further, further down in their hearts threatening to swallow them and not let go?) Do you....want me to tell you more words, that you want to know the meaning of? (does she want to hear sweet poetry, something that would add more to the mistakes they've made? in their frustratingly and alluring sound, their temptation and honestly.)
Any words....that you want to know, that you want to hear me say.
[If the downpour that rages within Cellinia-- the deluge that she promises to grace this barren desert with-- could feel as blissful and as cathartic as the hot water streaming upon them from the showerhead, then Mai might find herself wanting to stand under it forever. She would turn her face towards the sky and bask in the distorted relief borne of this tempest, the very same that would wash away a hundred thousand lives in the torrents of its depthless misery. Oh, how Mai would all but beg to be drowned in it herself, only to then offer the storm-bearer the sweetest of kisses in exchange for sparing her life. And with a knowing smile on her lips, she would know that even if the entire world beneath her feet might suffocate in this cruel flood-- even if she might be brought to the brink of death, herself-- Cellinia would draw her back from the depths, completely ruined, but born anew into something more beautiful and cursed.
And perhaps, maybe one day, this rain might even purify her in all of its sin. Imagine that-- these two anguished souls, utterly condemned by this heartless world, sanctified in this strange union. Who would think that these two could be any more than a pair of fools in the throes of their mistakes, one of many in their disappointing lives? Because there is little more foolish than abandoning their responsibilities, their mundane obligations, to sneak away and play at being lovers. Cellinia should have never taunted Mai with salacious fantasies-- and Mai should have never thought herself so bold as to challenge this wolf without considering the consequences that would sweep her up in devoted promises that seem almost too good to be true.
But what do they know? All they're armed with is one another's name, and the molten desire that melts them down with every irrational second that they continue to spend together. All Mai has is that look in Cellinia's eyes, one that threatens to haunt her already, a look that sees something that Mai doesn't. This foolish wolf wants to belong to her, she thinks that Mai is someone worth belonging to. And she would almost pity Cellinia for this mistake, the gravest of all that she's making today-- but she is rotten enough to revel in it, pretend that it's the real thing, not even realizing that it will be.
Mai doesn't see those pretty lips mouthing that silent plea to ruin her, but she absolutely hears Cellinia cursing desperately as soon as her teeth sink into that tender skin. It makes her giddy to hear her pretty wolf reduced to such vulgarity, especially after she has made her desires known so beautifully. Oh, but Mai loves it, the way she can make the pendulum swing between these delicious extremes. A beast is still a beast, after all, no matter how enchanting their declarations.
She smiles in delight against the mark she leaves at Cellinia's neck, already on the warpath to ruining her with the hunger of her mouth and the parallel eagerness of her fingers.]
How cute... [ another bite, above Cellinia's shoulder blade this time ] That you still want to give me lessons while I'm trying to teach you a thing or two.
[A very messed-up lesson of Mai's own, in how one should never beg for some pitiful nobody to devastate them as thoroughly as she intends to. It already seems like Cellinia is learning quite well, already, an avid student whether she's aware of it or not. From her sighs and soft moans reverberating so wonderfully, Mai has all the confirmation she needs that Cellinia is more than happy to surrender to the ruin promised with each glide of her fingers, each kiss along her back.]
You can say whatever you want in that pretty tongue of yours. I know it gets you off, losing yourself little by little while you praise me.
[Oh, how she adores the way Cellinia is shuddering in her hold while she continues to work her fingers steadily between her legs. Mai tightens the arm she has at her waist, pressing her body even closer to the wall while she nibbles lazily at the back of her neck and shoulders.]
How about... Mmm, how about telling me how good I'm making you feel, right now? Tell me how happy you are to fall apart for me again.
[Go on, Cellinia, tell your capricious little goddess these things in that foreign tongue of yours. The wolf need not even translate it-- or rather, Mai doesn't think she has it in her to do so, if the girl's cunning fingers have anything to do with it.]
(isn't it always this way? that storm could drown them, it threatens to. it aches to drag them under into constant rain, and more than that. what if they both went under and came back cursed together? that's what would always be a question hanging in the air between the girls. that someone could want this is the frightening thing in how cellinia chases it. they were playing at it, pretending that for a day this is something more and not realizing the more they speak alone is causing them to fall harder. harder, harder, and harder. they're only unable to see it because neither side has come to realize what was happening. the beast hasn't, and she's the one that told her, to ruin her. give her a sweet nightmare, a sweet haunting full of cursed desires. make her dream of her voice, of mai's lips and her face. that beautiful pale skin she marked so thoroughly earlier in that want to mark her body.
she can't help it, not the way she moans for her. not the way that tightening coil in her belly thrums from how close she's starting to get from slow torture alone. ruin her, lover. make her fall for you so hard in the future she'd give you the world. that she'd whisper feelings she never told another soul. get them from her pretty lips as she's pinned to the wall more. the wolf's head pressed to half look at mai now. she's trying to not dig her nails into the tile. cellinia even attempts to keep herself steady, but it's obvious she would let go soon. sooner rather than later. under the hot water that streams down on them.
she has a name, a name that's beautiful in it's meaning. the meaning of it being heaven, the moon. doesn't it suit her? this pretty wolf that her lover touches so much. she's receptive to that touch, to mai's hands and teeth along her body. that they're both so torn apart by the world they dare to dream about this being the real thing. that someone like cellinia could dare to taunt her into ruining her. that she was desperate to be ruined and ruin her in how those amber eyes are searing in their burn. a bright burn that doesn't fade, so tantalizing in how they beg for it. beg for her lips and teeth along this body in its scars. this body her lover considers perfect, a work of art for her touch.
they don't even have anything more than a name, their desire, their faces memorized. she curses, she utters them at the sensation of teeth. that bite down into her back as her lover carries on this warpath. this ever-growing demand to satisfy a hunger within for herself. cellinia's sighs become sharper for her. shaky, her moans a better song than the music she would play in the car and at home from a dislike for the silence of both. from that need for something to cover it up, the way it gnaws at her mind.
how lonely her wolf must be, must have been without her in her life. how lonely she must be to demand it; for them to be tied together at their very core whenever she near misses it. how mai calls it cute of her to want to speak like that. that she wants to whisper such sweet words, sweet cravings dripping in poisonous sin and promises. affections that both girls would never grow tired of wanting, demanding.)
Toccami....solo così. Voglio che la tua bocca mi perseguiti, voglio che i tuoi occhi non mi lascino mai.(she has to pause, a shudder again while attempting to get her mind together. she wants to try and tell her goddess what she wants to say. what she said. maybe she is terrible at conveying it, everything to do with it. but the lazy nibbles, how her little goddess asked for it did make cellinia want to try.) T-touch me....just like this. I want your mouth to haunt me, I want your eyes to never leave me.
(the words are hissed out, unrestrained in their desires. the want within them. give it to her, little red riding hood. she didn't care how terrible of an idea this is. this was for both sides as they left behind mundane and boring lives for a moment they were anything but that. she can only offer those heated whispers of words far too beautiful for girls like them who were destroyed by the world, offer that sweetness which many would kill for themselves so freely.
this poison that she feels mixed into the heat of passion that both girls ignored, desiring not the antidote of their afflictions. they only wanted that tender cruelty that would break them apart and take more while cursing them further into being shadows of their former selves. torn apart, beautiful, and jaded.)
Voglio ricordare te e il tuo corpo, le tue grida. Il modo in cui gemi per me, il modo in cui io gemo per te....(another shaky pause, another moment of her claws scratching to tiles. it's harder to translate now than it is to talk with how frayed her mind is and yet....) I want to remember you and your body, your cries. The way you moan for me, the way I moan for you....
(oh cellinia, one day you might stop digging yourself further down in your sins. or you might never, she only knows she feels it so strongly. something she can't put a finger on, something that makes her want more than they both could have dreamed of.)
[Is this all it takes to ruin her precious little wolf? Is she going to fall apart so soon, just from Mai's fingers alone rubbing slow, wet circles into that pretty nub of flesh? She really is such a fragile little thing, isn't she, when Mai has her pinned like this? Where is that big bad wolf, now? From all of that tough talk at the beginning, of how she's difficult to tame, she's clearly melting quite easily at being touched like this. Doesn't anyone else give this you, pretty wolf? Because to Mai, it certainly doesn't feel like it. In fact, it feels like the woman in her hold is so starved and needy that it puts Mai's own emptiness to shame. Ah-- what would Mai think if she had any inkling of the loneliness that must be consuming her darling wolf, devouring her to the point where she'd surrender herself to the physical demands of a cruel and greedy girl? Perhaps a better person would want to coax away that loneliness with a kinder touch that subtly conveys a mirrored understanding of the anguish.
So, Mai should be more tender with Cellinia, then, shouldn't she? To surmise that a lover might be bereft of something so easily given in this moment, wouldn't it be far more kind to be gentle, whisper soothing sweet nothings while ushering in the deep relief that accompanies release? When Cellinia turns her face just a bit, her cheek pressed to the tile and her eyes seeking out Mai's, the girl can imagine she sees the flames of a certain kind of desperation dancing in their depths. The way that Cellinia's groans become more drawn-out, more shaky and breathless against the soothing sound of the falling water, causes a needy ache of Mai's own grow between her hips. The wolf wants her eyes to never leave her, does she? That's fine-- their position will leave no room for Cellinia to hide those wonderful expressions from Mai's ravenous stare.
And that's when Mai comes to a surprising conclusion-- she will be kind to Cellinia, even if it's not in the way that a lover ought to be. She'll be good to her in the way that twisted sinners like them deserve, breaking her down sweetly with the hands of someone who knows exactly how to do it. After all, that's the way to tame a beast-- not with a sadistic superiority that crushes her underfoot, but with a tender cruelty that leaves her so euphoric that she'll seek out sanctuary in the poisoned affection of a new master.]
Aww, thank you for teaching me. You're such a good girl...
[Her praise is sincere, even if her gratitude is practically sopping with sarcasm. She wants to make sure that Cellinia gets both, after all. She's earned the praise from shuddering so perfectly whenever Mai strokes her just right, all while making a visible effort to keep her wits about her. 'Touch me... just like this.' Very well-- Mai is only too happy to keep up her good work. Cellinia is just so deliciously sensitive for her, after all. She really wouldn't mind playing with her all night... The prettiest of toys for a girl like Mai, who would explore every inch of her in an effort to really see what she's made of. Call it a force of habit thanks to her training, with her learning the composition of something thoroughly enough to recreate it. Thankfully, she's not restricted by her dismal cursed energy here-- there's no limit to the ecstasy she wants to craft for Cellinia before their time is up.]
Maybe too good, though, since you're still talking...
[Satisfied with the tiny marks her nibbles have left (and in a place that Cellinia would need a mirror to properly appreciate), Mai raises her head to kiss her cheek, her eyes still holding her lover's gaze firmly as she pulls away. Ah, how gorgeous, the searing look within her wolf's eyes, that plea for more, more until she finally reaches that peak. Hm... ]
But, tell me, Cellinia, because I really have to know--
[And right when she knows she has her, Mai stills her movements. It's there, that faint throbbing against her touch as she still cradles Cellinia's clit in her fingers. A familiar self-satisfied smile finds itself on Mai's lips again before she continues her light taunting.]
Just how are you gonna make me cry out for you after I've ruined you completely? You think I'll really let you have that chance?
[She rests her chin atop Cellinia's shoulder, stroking her stomach with the hand around her waist while her other hand remains painfully motionless. Goodness, her nerves are really frayed, aren't they? Cellinia is steadily losing her mind, like this, and Mai can't get enough of neither the sight nor the feeling of the absolute sin she's concocting for the both of them.]
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Date: 2025-03-14 04:24 am (UTC)She'll think about reconsidering her stance on staying the night on the first date, given that the two of them have been doing everything out of order from the get-go. At the very least, she'll hope that the wolf has the sense to sleep somewhere soft enough for Mai to get some rest whenever they're tuckered out. But the thought of Cellinia curled up in a proper bed, complete with pillows and a duvet, nearly makes her laugh. Well, she'll just have to see for herself, won't she?
Mai will give a short laugh in response to Cellinia agreeing to behave just enough. There's a musing that dies in her lips, something about how she probably shouldn't order someone around in their own home. Yet if Cellinia wanted a well-behaved guest, she definitely wouldn't have extended this invitation to Mai. Unfortunately for her, Mai can't even promise enough tact not to peer around at everything she owns and hasn't stashed out of sight. That's fine, she already has a sugary excuse ready should Cellinia express annoyance at it: Oh, I just want to get to know you!
Foolproof, surely.]
Seriously? Imagining me without my clothes on again, already? Sounds like you're the one who wants to see the view.
[With an exaggerated shake of her head, Mai eyes Cellinia knowingly, a sneaky smile playing on her lips. There it is-- there's the hungry wolf she wants to see, chomping at the bit to have its prey unwrapped and ready to be devoured again. And how fun it would be to have those battle-worn hands divest her of her uniform again, but this time, Mai will be the one doing the honors with Cellinia's clothes. There's a high likelihood of her sneaking a few more love bites in as she does, too, but she doubts she'll hear any complaints.
The chivalry that her lover demonstrates never fails to impress Mai, and having the door held open for her so respectfully is just another expression of those manners. Truly, it's not something that one encounters much anymore, especially not in the modern world. Mai is nearly certain that some of the higher ranking men in her family get treated similarly by their chauffeurs and personal attendants. She wouldn't know, herself a lowly serving girl before they shoved her off to the Kyoto technical school. So, she'll bask in feeling like a proper young lady, and smile with unmistakable pride as she swings her legs from her seat and steps out of the car. That revolver of hers is securely hidden, so as not to frighten any passersby as they make their way to the apartment. Better to leave Cellinia as the odd sight around the building, even though it doesn't seem like anyone is batting an eye. Do they not mind that she's a wolf, or do they simply have no clue? Perhaps they really do think she's some silly cosplayer bringing her pretty and stylish friend over to read her manga collection, or something. Now that's a laugh-worthy thought.]
You must manage pretty well, living around all of these normal people.
[She'll muse aloud once they're out of earshot of the other tenants. The two of them walk close to one another, and every now and again, Mai will feel her hand brush softly against Cellinia's. Hmm... ]
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Date: 2025-03-14 07:42 am (UTC)she'd give her so much more of her, exhausted or not. though she hardly knows what might happen. that mai also intends to look around, but there was a feeling more on what she might have said had they not gone back to her apartment. another order, perhaps, that she didn't behave for too long. that she wanted to see her hungry again and wanting. wanting to touch her and wanting to feel her, drawing out mai's own pretty voice while her lips are preoccupied with more marks of her own. left along that unblemished and beautiful skin of hers like a canvas that cellinia is on a mission to fill with her own colors. she's already on a mission to do that, why not make it so she doesn't forget the sight and feeling? the softness of her skin and cellinia's battle worn hands along it.
they're not going to behave for long, this is inevitable. that since the fire was lit it'd be impossible to expect otherwise. something in this brought back what once would have been that flame surrounding them in happier times, before everything decided to tear them apart. as if in mockery from whatever higher power is out there, though cellinia herself has long since stopped believing in that. she didn't need to. she held no wish to hold close to her heart that, but maybe she comes close to it again more in how she treats mai like a goddess. like something to replace her "religion" she's abandoned.)
It's a lovely view, can you blame me?
(but that's getting a little too far ahead of herself while they make their way up, the other tenants hardly fazed. they did indeed believe her to be some cosplayer while she's stayed within this building. maybe even were told to ignore her, that she's something of an eccentric girl from a well off foreign family. they all seemed to not care much. that helped cellinia often avoid dealing with them, but she did from time to time need to deal with questions arising if she weren't too careful about her antics. that's a main part of why she would keep it down. refrain from anything too animalistic so she didn't have to move from apartment to apartment in avoidance of what could be another rep behind her heels.
one that would be more amusing than the bloodstained trail that would never stop haunting her. that rep is one she would know too well, as far away as her mind is she's paying attention. the brush of their hands together, their fingers close while cellinia has the common sense to shift closer. to hide it better while that very same hand grabs mai's. almost like earlier, but much softer. considerate. she doesn't hold it too tightly or too firmly to give room for her to let go if mai decides that bit of affection (hidden or not) is too forward for her liking. she isn't the kind of girl that would be forceful. mai can decide on how much affection and other things she wants herself, cellinia wouldn't argue and even then, she's keeping her eyes on her lover. that hunger rests within them, quietly and patient for the time being. her floor is the fourth one, a little view for them included from a small balcony that waits and the nice feeling of the fresh summer breeze fluttering along.)
I can be good at being civilized, for someone so capable of being a wild animal.
(she's not going to lie about it now, her honesty is something cellinia has in spades. the part where she's prone to running aside, she doesn't lie about these things. not about herself or about what she does think when asked. helpful, but also terrible while knowing that it can stir up trouble when her tongue is being a little too sharp for someone's liking.)
I'm only glad they don't ask any questions.
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Date: 2025-03-14 08:28 pm (UTC)...You won't catch me complaining.
[And why would Mai complain about having those reverent eyes on her again? She's a veritable desert, desperate for any drop of adoration that falls from her harsh skies. She can't admit it, the presence of some creeping feeling that Cellinia had fed to her during their time earlier. It's a feeling that makes those parched roots of Mai's leap towards the source, desperate to wrap around it tightly and squeeze more, just a little bit more of it out of that woman. And Mai has to refuse to admit it, especially to herself, that this feeling is what really compels her to follow this wolf back to her lair. That, and the look of pure worship when she has her just right, coupled with the pretty pleasures that soothe her bitter anguish like a salve. It's strange, how it calms one part of her heart while inciting another to scramble and claw for more, more of whatever this poison is, falling like rain upon her miserable desert.
She ought to be more disappointed in herself, shouldn't she? Perhaps even a bit ashamed that she's wanting to attach herself just a bit further, lest she obsess over shutting herself away from the things she truly desires in this life. Anything she really yearns for slips out of her grasp before long, after all, no matter how tightly she holds onto it. The whim of Fate's cruel wheel, no doubt.
Ah.
But then, Mai feels something-- Cellinia's hand slipping into hers, gently. Of course it brings to mind the recollection of how she had grabbed her hand before while drowning in the waves of ecstasy. It was a too-romantic gesture in the heat of the moment, she tells herself, but what of right now? It's not like they're anything more than two near-strangers headed for a more private setting where they can indulge in one another for a bit longer... But this would give anyone else the wrong idea, wouldn't it? As her eyes glance down at their hands, Mai tries to will away the blush that dares to kiss her cheeks, with only mild success. While she doesn't tighten her hold, she doesn't pull away, either. Mai isn't sure what to make of such a chaste display of affection, so she'll stop herself from dwelling too much on it. Or try to, anyway.]
Well, since they're not asking, I will. Why? Doesn't it ever bug you, being the odd one out?
[Standing out is truly one of the greater annoyances in life, after all. If it isn't because of one's looks, it's one's talents-- or lack thereof. The story of Mai's entire existence, really, being forced beneath a magnifying glass for things mostly out of her control. They'll leer at for her looks and punish her for practically everything else. Who would want to stand out? Mai has a sneaking suspicion that Cellinia's answer will be that she simply doesn't care, that it won't get in the way of her living her life, or whatever it was that Mai has heard somewhere before-- something that she had declared, that wretched sister of hers. Another hand that once held hers before trading it for a weapon to slice her way towards a glory that will never be hers. Never.
The similarities are there, undoubtedly, but there are marked differences, as well. Mai doesn't know anyone else who has a place of their own, with a balcony that overlooks a nice little neighborhood. Granted, the people that she knows either live on campus or in one of the numerous wings of her family's sprawling estate. Where else would they go, where else would they want to be? Not even Mai has any idea of where she might end up once her stupid studies are finished. Two more years, if she can hack it for that much longer. It would be nice, wouldn't it, to live away from that old life? But, it's almost as unlikely as everything else she might desire for herself.]
So. You live alone, right?
[Probably a question that should have been asked well before their drive over here.]
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Date: 2025-03-14 09:26 pm (UTC)it's only fitting that her lover is given this delight.
this honor of honors, while the wolf keeps raining down on her desert. like the storms that she loves, the rain that she is always considered a part of. those clouded skies drenching her and her everything in it's dreariness. didn't it sound better? she can drown that desert in soothing water and wash away all of it in a downpour that was never seen before. covered in the way she touches her beneath the rain, that she drags her lover down with her into the bottomless depths of their ocean that waits for that opportunity. more, it demands. more, it wants. it wants to drag them down into this and what they both had been telling themselves will be purely physical. that they'll not do anything more than acquaint themselves deeper than most with their bodies. this poison won't ever fade from them.
the poison of tenderness, of tender worship. reverence and desire at the core of it. how she can display it all, show it by touching her. cellinia was never that girl who would stop the moment someone made it evident they liked something she did, how she reaches deeper into this bottomless depths they'll both be falling into together. keep clawing at it, keep begging for it, chasing it. take it all. drink everything offered. be savages, be amorous and unapologetically greedy is what her instincts whispers. how it wants to tempt her into letting it all out. to chase and chase, to hunt until she's made this pretty girl fully hers. that nobody else should be allowed to have her, not even take her from the hands of a wolf that is much more dangerous than acts around her goddess.
what those sharp teeth and claws could do is best left for others to suffer at the hands of, her goddess has better need for her mouth. for her hands to be within reach. amidst the throes of passion, or like now in chaste affections that they both would surely add to their growing list. their mistakes are only going to come out further than their sins by the time this day ends. but that blush on mai's cheeks, it's another thing she likes to see more of. that she won't ever stop committing to memory as another thing. she's seen it.
she doesn't even mind the way mai doesn't reciprocate entirely, it's only affection that their starved bodies has always craved. that something they always wanted was kept out of grasp. nobody seems to be paying attention on the final stretch of this venture to cellinia's apartment.
she did take a moment to think about her question, though, and:)
It doesn't. I was meaning more it can be a pain in the ass moving around when people start to get suspicious. For me, it doesn't matter much. If they're not bothering me, I won't make it their problem for crossing me.
(which is hardly a lie, if they don't make it her problem then she won't bother them. this is how she's always started to live since that day. that cellinia can stay quiet and if they dare to do anything she hates, they'd learn. that's how she's been before and after her departure from the center stage of familiga life. mai of course, doesn't know that. she may not care how she's viewed, but she also knows that being too much of a stand-out can get attention.
she'll live, they're better off not knowing about the predator lurking under the surface. or at the very least, not the way she displays it for mai's eyes alone.)
No roommates, I don't live with anyone else.
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Date: 2025-03-15 08:58 am (UTC)Oh-- so you won't 'make it their problem,' huh? Lucky them. And I bet they don't even know it, either.
[None of Cellinia's neighbors are even aware that their lives are being spared so long as they continue to mind their own business. Now that's a funny thought. And she says it with such a trained casualness, that one would think it less of a threat and more of an objective fact. Spoken like a beast, truly, one who knows their place in the world of humans, a world that they choose to inhabit. A place that, for good or ill, is at the top of this hierarchy, or very near it, anyway. Yet when Mai's eyes flit back to their joined hands, then glance briefly up at Cellinia's lips, trying to envision them drenched in the blood of some hapless human who dared confront her-- there's that disconnect, again. Those hands and that mouth have only offered Mai sweetness thus far, in a way so etched into her already that rewriting the memory with something decidedly more vicious feels... incorrect, somehow.
That does beg the question: has Cellinia needed to move around often before finding her current home? Did she leave bodies in her wake, or is she the type to merely slip away in the shadows of the night, disappearing before the figurative villagers could sharpen their pitchforks to drive out the monster in their midst? It's a pain, Cellinia remarks, something Mai can imagine to be true-- yet at the same time, something about it sounds awfully lonesome, as well. A life with risks like that can't possibly lead to a great number of meaningful attachments. At this thought, Mai reflexively tightens her hold on Cellinia's hand. It would really be just her luck, wouldn't it, to have to forfeit something exciting while the fun was just getting started?
Really, Mai ought to be used to this by now. The thought of it still annoys her, though.
There's some consolation, however, in knowing that she won't need to worry about any prying eyes inside of the apartment. While this is another suggestion of a lack of attachments, it's one that Mai can take a bit of satisfaction it.]
Must be nice, having a place all to yourself. No need to answer to anyone, either.
[There are many ways that remark can be taken, though the obvious insinuation is that Cellinia won't have to field questions about the girl she's bringing over to play with. No awkward introductions, no explanations on how they met or what they plan on getting up to. That's a relief, really. Their entire history is laughably brief, and anyone with enough sense would almost definitely cast a very judgmental opinion over their strange relationship. It's the last thing Mai wants, right now, a price she is happy that she doesn't have to pay for more of Cellinia's attention. No need for logic to play the antidote to their poisonous little escapade.]
You know-- I can't believe you just walked around like that.
[She points her finger obviously at the marks displayed around Cellinia's tank top, decorating her neck and collar. It's certainly a bold move to traipse around wearing hickeys like some pretty accessory. If those wolfish ears and that tail weren't interesting enough to grab anyone's attention, Mai's handiwork probably drew at least a few quizzical glances before the two of them finally arrived at the doorway to the apartment.]
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Date: 2025-03-15 11:21 am (UTC)It's better that way, isn't it?
(that they don't know of it, that those lips which offer her lover sweetness have spilled blood. that her hands have carved apart those foolish. it was second nature. killing the enemy, crush the enemy. if they draw a weapon then they are not to be brushed off, she knows the meaning behind a fight with such things and by no means is cellinia going to hold back. that's never been her style. but these people? no, she wouldn't do anything to them unless they did anything to her first. her lips which kissed mai so much are slightly reddened from their earlier activities, her hand is comfortable around her lovers. she has a desire to not replace this ideal image with something bloody. something frightening.
before, her moving was purely because of work reasons. they never found a place to make their own, somewhere they'd all be able to stay at. that took time. seven years of time and all spent full of cellinia being thoroughly distracted. from that sea of blood, from the rain that threatens to take her by drowning her within it. there is no way around it. she didn't leave bodies in her wake, all cellinia did was slip away quietly. it is a lonely thought. that she could have grown attached to anyone, but was forced to let go of them to disappear again. she did notice the way mai's hand tightens around hers, was she thinking about it? that's what the wolf can't answer whenever her hand squeezes mai's in response.
was it a sense of comfort, that's the mystery. one that neither side can answer, but the idea that she can have somewhere to herself has been one cellinia got used to. eventually. that she was able to stop moving, stop having a nomadic lifestyle full of traveling and their own chaos. they would bring about their deliveries in the area and leave when the emperor decided he wanted a change of scenery. none of the girls argued as they joined, cellinia never did with him. he's already done more than most in taking her in.
they didn't need to worry. not about someone barraging in her lonely apartment, not about calls coming up that should be answered during their fun. their everything. she did seem to understand it was a blessing. they didn't have to deal with unwanted guests wondering what the two of them were doing. trying to even tell cellinia that she should reconsider quietly for many reasons, but there isn't any of that here. logic has long since disappeared and anything reasonable is only an afterthought to what poison runs through their veins. to that poison called desire, greed, and affection in their grim lives. that was something sought after. something desired.)
It can be nice, I like it. Not everyone wants to live alone, and that's fine. It's....peaceful.
(but lonely. that never changes, that loneliness in how she never has anyone there. how she didn't seemingly go out unless her friends talked her into it. cellinia never changed much, but she did blink slowly at the mention of the love bites and hickey's around her neck. around her collar, too. oh. right. she was having them on display, and maybe they did get a few glances before the other tenants carried on their usual.)
Can't deny that I can be shameless.
(whenever she wants to be, whenever she desires it most when they pause. her other hand reaches into her shorts pocket, a key pulled out and twisted into the lock before the door springs open to reveal to them this lonesome apartment. there's some clutter here and there, organized clutter. some books, some boxes. clothes gathered in a basket near the hallway leading to her bedroom. the clothes themselves luckily were muddy, she washes anything bloody immediately to save it from staining. aside from that there is the basics. a nice sofa with a blanket on it, almost like someone slept on it more. that someone being cellinia.
the kitchen and its amenities looked good, too. a little quaint yet minimally decorated apartment. the only decor so far would be those photos and the odd posters, photos of a seven-year journey cellinia had been on. if looked at closely at the start, she almost seems to be more tired.)
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Date: 2025-03-15 09:34 pm (UTC)As it is, even Mai only knows what the wolf has revealed to her, too. She's almost as ignorant as the neighbors they pass along the way. Almost, but only because she knows things she's sure that they don't-- the way that Cellinia looks at her just before they kiss, how she sounds when she feels Mai's hands roaming over her scarred flesh. Even to Mai, these things are still new, exciting, though still not revealing much of the woman who gives her these delights. Yes, Mai is little more knowledgeable than these other humans, but she'll cling onto her special secrets with a bit of a fluffed up ego.
And that squeeze of her hand in repose to her own touch-- it's simply another way that feeds that ever-present need to be be special, to be just a bit better than all of the others. Ah, perhaps Cellinia's self-reported shamelessness in boasting her lovely bruises is more fuel to that secret fire. The wolf didn't think that they were anything to hide, even around faces she sees often enough. Perfect. Mai wouldn't care much either, then. She highly doubts anyone would be walking up to either girl to lodge a complaint at their unashamed display, given how unapproachable they can certainly make themselves seem.]
Yeah, yeah, I remember. You're a little exhibitionist.
[There's an affectionate cheekiness to her tone, even while she casts a wary look over her shoulder in search of anyone who might be eavesdropping. The hall is empty save for the two of them, thankfully.]
I guess I can help you out with that, though. Earn my keep while I'm here.
[Mai can be a good guest when she wants to be. She'll sarcastically give credit to her mother's lessons, practically beaten into her-- though now they get to be twisted to suit her own self-centered adventures. Sure, she's arriving to someone's home empty-handed in the traditional sense, but she has plenty of other gifts she's certain Cellinia would appreciate better than some silly box of snacks.
Once the door is open and her hostess leads the way inside, Mai quickly follows after, kicking her shoes off in the entry way before standing in the middle of the main room to get to get a proper look at everything. Her eyes scan over the clutter, the books-- she wonders what kind of texts a wolf could be interested in reading, and as she wanders over to take a closer look, she notices a few photo frames standing upon a small table against the wall. Knew it. She knew this wolf would have trophies of some sort, proof that she's had her share of other pretty girls in these walls. When Mai takes one of the frames in her hands to satisfy her morbid curiosity, her eyes narrow a bit, though not purely out of some misplaced jealousy.
It's Cellinia, the way she carries herself in this snapshot. She's different--vacant, maybe, and weary -- or something along those lines that Mai is unable to describe concretely. She opens her mouth, wants to ask, but the curiosity tastes so blatantly bitter on her tongue that she purses her lips and rubs her thumb once over the wolf's likeness before casting her attention elsewhere.]
...why's there a blanket on your couch? Please don't tell me that's the 'bed' you were trying to get me into earlier.
[Of course, she's mostly joking (probably), but the look that Mai gives Cellinia is just a touch judgy, in a 'You live like a guy' sort of way.]
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Date: 2025-03-15 10:16 pm (UTC)her changes from back then regardless, that didn't matter. she would have hurt them with her own two hands if she felt she could. if she felt she must, the wolf is rather protective of her loved ones. that is, if anyone were to reach that distinct honor that so few rarely could ever have in their hands. cellinia did seem grateful that they were alone. that nobody heard the way they spoke, spoke quietly about the marks and her streak of exhibitionism. mai's marks were something that she would wear without shame. no need to be ashamed of them, her lover left them and intends to cover her in more than that while the wolf reaches to remove her work boots. she's not too fazed that mai grew more curious about the photos on the table.
that one in particular she grabbed, cellinia was only just barely seventeen. taken from the old country with the idea that her new job would be good for her, if the wolf was asked then she would have responded with that she looked dead back then. that's the best description she could have given her little red riding hood. cellinia felt dead, there was no life in that expression. vacant staring, doubt, like she was going through the motions. a mystery in itself on what could have caused that, even with the cigarette seen in her mouth and her looking almost as though she'd rather not exist.
the other photos varied. some had her look more alive bit by bit, less like she were dead. more as though life had decided that she wasn't supposed to give up that fast. how depressing that a girl can look so dead, so....lifeless. for how she is now. but she won't say anything on that and the cause. she did notice the way her lover wanted to ask and decide against it. any time she might answer these questions would be much later. now? now she might only mention bits and pieces, nothing substantial.)
....don't worry, it's not my actual bed. I just sleep on it too often.
(never mind that she has it in her to look sheepish about being called out like this. she did live like a guy, she would sleep like so often that she forgets she has her bedroom. sora even made it a point to start recruiting croissant to shove cellinia in there over letting the wolf sleep on the couch. unfortunately, her main reasoning behind avoiding her bedroom was her nightmares. she didn't want to do something to her mattress, much less shred her pillows from any particularly bad fits of them.
while mai can take the chance to look around, cellinia did go into the first door in the nearby hallway. her actual bedroom, she left the door open if mai chooses to follow her (she won't stop her from looking around if she's that curious) to get a good look. the bed in there is nice and soft, decent bedding. a color scheme of grey and blue mixed together pleasantly, while the wolf is checking her closet for something that might fit her lover. she did have a number of baggy clothing if mai preferred, aside from dress shirts, hoodies, sweaters, and other odds and ends from her wardrobe. quite the trendy closet, admittedly. like someone pushed the wolf into dressing herself up more decently over something that looked unusual.)
I hope you're okay with me not having much of anything feminine.
(she didn't necessarily like dressing femme herself, it was rarer to even see cellinia in a skirt or dress. suits, shorts, and pants were her preference when it came to her wardrobe. something that's reflected in her more masculine demeanor often, she even did get made fun of for not changing her style much when the wolf returned to the old country.
maybe mai might prefer one of her dress shirts, hmm.)
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Date: 2025-03-16 12:00 am (UTC)Ah, well-- it's too much, it's too early in this strange relationship of theirs to feel her heartstrings tugged in such a way. It's not at all what she came here for, and yet something about seeing these little snippets of her lover's personal life will likely stick with her when she's all by herself, later on. Setting the last frame back in its place with a drawn-out hum, Mai turns away from the small table completely and gives Cellinia-- this Cellinia-- her full attention.]
What, is your bed that crappy? I'm starting to lose faith, here.
[This time, it's an obvious joke, punctuated by a lilting laugh in a reminder to the both of them that she had no qualms getting it on in the backseat of her car not too long before now. She makes this little quip to feed the sheepish look that Cellinia sports at being needled like this. Cute. Certainly a whole lot better than the face she wore in that old photo. Mai decides that she'll simply have to give her reasons to make only the loveliest expressions for the rest of their time together. Anything to dash away that haunting look from her mind...
Only a few moments pass once she's left alone in the living room, before Mai trails after Cellinia towards her bedroom. Oh, good. It's an actual bedroom, too, with a actual bed that definitely looks comfortable to sleep in. Huh. The girl will give another judgmental hum, raising her eyebrows to herself, yet another question on her lips-- but she decides that she'd rather peek at whatever her lover is up to in her closet. There's no shame in the way she walks up behind her, snaking her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder while she watches Cellinia rummage through her clothing.]
I'll live.
[Honestly, Cellinia's wardrobe suits the image she gives off-- Mai would be surprised if she caught a glimpse of lace or frills draped over the hangers instead of the decidedly masculine style her closet portrays. Regardless, it's not a terrible selection in the slightest, though Cellinia is right in that there are too few girly pieces for Mai to wear in the event that she truly had to raid her wardrobe.]
I don't mind letting you decide for me. Whatever you feel like seeing me in. [She trusts her hostess. Or at least, that's what her offer would convey, if she didn't speak up again: ] It's not like I'm gonna be wearing it for long, right?
[She laughs teasingly against Cellinia's neck, tightening her arms around her waist briefly before letting them fall to her side as she takes a step or two back.]
Tell me where your shower is. I'll get it going for us while you figure out our outfits.
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Date: 2025-03-16 08:37 am (UTC)without that, cellinia would not be standing here. she wouldn't be alive. death would have come for her sooner as that saying remains. lone wolves do not last long for a reason. they're expected to die, expected to lose their lives for any number of reasons while the pack itself carries on. cellinia did have it in her to have a faint flush across her cheeks, nothing prominent. the other girls can't say they've seen her like this. not how she's standing there and even going over in her mind what she might like to see mai in most of her wardrobe.
or that had been the idea, until she pauses her search. to relax into her arms, that urge to kiss her lover is back again. how easy it would be to turn her head and do just that, she finds herself addicted to her lips already. cellinia even was comfortable to let her lover take hold of her, to rest her chin against her shoulder. mai is the slightly taller one of them, from what she's realized. not that the wolf minds it, though she has a feeling her lover might enjoy the idea of cellinia having to lean up a bit to kiss her. that she also has to reach up and take hold of her face like that to tip her head down for any others.
her laughter is a note that cuts through the thoughts more, she wasn't wrong. sooner rather than later, cellinia would remove that shirt she gives her. she even did pull out one of her button ups for her lover, she had worn it recently so it'd carry the most of her scent.)
True. (she murmurs, the thoughts she imagined earlier were there again. of mai borrowing what fits from cellinia's closet and taking it for herself. covering herself in a scent that is mixed of rain and nicotine. the dress shirts tended to tickle her imagination more, anyway. the idea of her lover wearing one and leaving it half undone; bearing skin that would get the attention of this wolf who would have been unable to help herself. her impeccable restraint aside, there's something here that makes cellinia unable to even resist.) I'll find mine then now, the bathroom is at the end of the hall.
(she'll have to show her which room has her utilities in it after, but it should be obvious. there's only one door left that isn't accounted for. cellinia is looking forward to this, somewhere more private with her lover. somewhere they could both not be found at. she doesn't normally bring back any kind of lover to her apartment, at least in the rarer times cellinia responded to those whims of her own. she even isn't the best of flirts from her prickly demeanor, but that was another thing the wolf realizes mai brought out of her. that the flirting felt so natural, so right between them. she couldn't help herself on that point, either. that point where she chased her more in her own way. with an earnestness that suited a wild wolf.
an honesty in her more animalistic desires, she spoke them out like they were poetry of their own.
she'll have to turn off her phone, to be safe. she didn't want to be interrupted by work suddenly because the emperor decided that they were all going to go after some stupid mooks around. he did like to add more to their job descriptions that shouldn't be there, and that also happened to include the girls winding up in fights with local gangsters. others who were making bigger mistakes in messing a little too much with penguin logistics. their rep isn't the greatest thing thanks to that. but they did have a rep for getting their work done regardless of those quirks. cellinia settles for herself finally, with one of her baggy shirts. she didn't need to wear any shorts underneath these and it makes for an easier time to remove.
given that they both know, they can't keep their hands off each other for long. with dress shirt and baggy shirt in hand, cellinia would be in the bathroom soon. she'll likely order them food if it gets to be a bit too late. it isn't as if she minds, sometimes cooking could be a pain whenever the wolf isn't in the mood for it. plus she has a feeling her goddess would want her undivided attention in all the ways her lover could ever have.
....maybe she wants to do that for her too, with giving her that much of her attention throughout the day, the night.)
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Date: 2025-03-17 01:08 am (UTC)Oh, you want me in that, hmm?
[Out of everything that Cellinia might have selected for Mai to wear for her, the simple dress shirt is somewhat of a surprise-- and not an unwelcome one, actually, the more that Mai considers it. She could very well have tossed Mai a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and called it a day, unbothered by how she might be swimming in the fabric. There's nothing wrong with a casual and comfortable set of clothes to wear while she waits for her uniform to be tidied up-- but at the same time, there's something to be said of having to yank a hoodie over one's head when trying to indulge in some hot and heavy activities. It seems like her lovely wolf has put a bit of thought into this, especially with the implication that she might want to unbutton it herself, treating Mai like a pretty little present to be unwrapped for some fun later on.
She makes no further remarks, and has no complaints whatsoever about Cellinia's choice. It'll be a delight to see those eyes light up when she actually gets to see just how it'll flatter Mai. Certainly something to look forward to.]
All right. See you, then.
[Her parting words are drawn out in a sing-song voice, and she leaves Cellinia with the briefest of kisses upon her shoulder before ambling out of the bedroom. Just before she's out of sight, she casts a flirty smile back at her lover, whose wolfish eyes are sparkling with some manner of imaginative thoughts. Mai hopes that they're of her, is almost certain that they are, and leaves into the hall feeling more than a little pleased with herself.
Just as Cellinia indicates, the bathroom is situated at the end of the hall, behind a door that is slightly ajar. Easy enough to find. Once the light is switched on, Mai can quickly see that this room matches all of the others in this apartment, in that it's sparsely decorated aside from the essentials. There are mostly only towels on the shelves, and basic toiletries on the counter around the sink. It's a stark contrast to Mai's bathroom at her dorm, littered with all kinds of face care products in their eye-catching containers, at least three different colors of nail polish, a makeup bag that she can't close because she keeps shoving more items inside. You can hardly see the counter space beneath all of her girly clutter. Forget her earlier thoughts about Cellinia living like a guy-- it's more apt to say that she lives like Maki. This is almost exactly what Mai pictures her sister's place in the Tokyo dorms to look like, and the thought has her chuckling out loud despite herself.
Charming, but she'd never admit that out loud. Not in a million years.
Once she gets the shower water running, Mai waits for the water to warm up by lingering in front of the mirror again, admiring her reflection. Cellinia has earned the praise for following orders-- Mai can't see any of the bites she had left outside of the fabric of her dark uniform. It's perfect, considering the season, though it does make her mind wander to the possibility of more marks in more places once the weather begins to cool down.
But, now she's curious. Her fingers move to strip off her clothes and undergarments, impatient to reveal the well-hidden bites beneath. As soon ad the last bit of fabric hits the tiled floor, Mai returns her attention to the mirror with eager eyes. Oh, Cellinia's right-- it's indeed the loveliest view. The small blotches of red and violet that litter her pale skin are beautiful, a haphazard trail from her neck to her navel, before the mirror cuts off the rest of the wolf's handiwork. She knows where the rest are, though, the most secret of those marks.
Whenever Cellinia joins her in the bathroom, she'll find Mai trailing her fingers over each pretty bloom with a satisfied expression on her face.]
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Date: 2025-03-17 02:24 am (UTC)good. it's a bit more tenderness between them, she didn't want to pick something too tedious to remove from her lover. she also wanted it to be something her lover would like to be in. easy to remove, easy to get comfortable in, and also even easier for mai to torture cellinia with. which did add into those imaginative thoughts. those thoughts she had when she feels her lover's lips brush up against her shoulder. she did look over mai's way, as expected her eyes were lit up. lit up and watching the way that mai had left. that flirty smile, the sing-song lilt to her voice. it's done more to her. maybe she is hopeless, to want to see it more. to want to hear that flirty tone and her way of smiling when cellinia is doing something that she likes already. but that's too fast. much too fast. then again, they've gone against reason. multiple times, against that and logic while together in how they skipped over steps.
but that's the thing about girls like cellinia, like them. moving fast....that was part of the thrill. whenever they had so little, they'd want it. there isn't any way around that in the way that cellinia chases and chases. all mai has to do is keep offering her the chase they both are enjoying. she'd keep showering her in her worship. in those lips of hers leaving more marks, more bruises, more where her teeth bit down into for her darling lover.
had she heard what her lover thought, she might have been confused. it isn't as though she knows about mai's family (not yet) as it stands between them. but her bathroom did have some cologne in it. subtle scents, nothing too strong due to her senses. too much can be overpowering, but she did enjoy the scent of mai's perfume as a nice little bonus. enough that she doesn't mind being covered more in her scent.
cellinia comes in quietly, with both the dress shirt for mai and that baggy number for herself. that one would be easy for mai's hands to slip under as she pleases. she could even remove it just as easily. that was what cellinia found best for herself. ah, but she did see the way her lover looks pleased in the mirror. how her hands trail along those bruises and the teeth marks she left. she doesn't speak, but cellinia does come up behind her lover after setting aside the clothing they'd both swap into. if only for now, to look over her shoulder as best as she could do. her own hands rest against her hips, a gentle rub into the skin while mai admires her handiwork.
she liked it that much, did she?)
It really is a lovely view....
(as she thought, she wants to leave more. that's unsurprising. she wants to decorate her in as many as mai would wish. to leave them all in those precious spots that only their eyes would know about. that only they'd have been able to see. she likes the idea too much, like marking her lover as solely hers and only hers. making her remember the way that she feels so possessive whenever it comes to her already. because she wants her.
it's another sin, another mistake on their growing list, but she did mean it. that she wants her to be hers. cellinia can't deny that. even if one day a part of her would want to run again.)
I could always leave more if you're not satisfied with only those.
(her lips brush against her shoulder as she speaks, cellinia even looks content breathing in her scent from this close. another part she wants to commit to memory. for this day, for more than this day.)
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Date: 2025-03-17 07:27 am (UTC)Oh, I agree. Bet you've never seen anything this incredible before.
[Of course, Mai won't ask if Cellinia has ever brought home a bitten-up lover before-- or even how many, an even worse question, really! Is there a point in stoking her jealous streak when she's feeling this coveted? Moving too fast, being unreasonable-- all of that can go right out the window when she's the center of attention like this. Forget those silly girls in the photo frames, and forget anyone else who has ever dared to imagine Mai's affections for their own. None of them could ever hope to steal the magnificent spotlight being shone on her right now amidst the wisps of steam from the shower. Not a single one could rob her of the pure joy at feeling so exalted whenever Cellinia gazes upon her like this.
That's the most dangerous part of getting involved with this wolf, the smothered voice of reason tries to squeak in the back of her mind. It's not the hands that could slice Mai to ribbons, now rubbing her hips affectionately; not the mouth that warned her of its hunger in the bites and bruises left in its wake, that precious mouth that currently presses faint kisses against her shoulder. No, the danger lies in those sweet admirations, that polite venturing for permission to bestow upon Mai even more of what she craves. The danger lurks in the fondness that lulls her into a sense of intimacy that she's wholly ignorant of. Any concentrated effort to make herself cold, to distance herself from falling into these strange feelings, is met with a firm resistance-- the antithesis to common sense, surely. It must have started with those promises exchanged, quietly binding them further, an ironclad thread wrapping around the parts of themselves that they would never imagine getting involved in this liaison.
Oh, but the real danger simmers in the way she can almost imagine something deeper between them, in the way that she nearly hopes that this 'something' could be more than just a product of the over-active imagination of a very lonely girl.
Mai likes it, all of it, far too much. There's no other reason why she would permit Cellinia to whisk her away all over the city and its outskirts, no other reason why she'd be the one chasing that addicting feeling of possessing and being possessed.]
Mm, you wanna satisfy me some more, huh?
[That suggestion of Cellinia's is twisted into something a touch more vulgar on Mai's tongue, but the way in which she runs her fingertips over that first bite at her neck makes it obvious that the promise of even more marks is still firmly on her mind.]
I think you missed a few spots, anyway.
[It's not worth the effort to point out where exactly. Cellinia can have her fun exploring Mai's body all over again, and discover those spots for herself.
How pretty she looks, contentedly breathing in her lover's scent as her lips continue grazing against her shoulder. It's a shame that her fading perfume will soon be traded in for the notes Cellinia wears, from her soap to the remnants of cologne lingering upon her dress shirt. Or is it such a shame? After all, it was one of the first things that the wolf admitted to Mai-- that she favors bathing her lovers in her scent, yet another mark of ownership.
Speaking of... ]
But, you know-- I'm the one who's actually falling behind, and that's not fair, is it?
[As much as she enjoys feeling Cellinia holding her like this from behind, Mai feels like seeing more than merely her reflection in the mirror, now. She turns her body entirely to face her and leans back a bit against the counter, displaying herself to Cellinia in all of her bare, marked-up glory. Her hand reaches out to fiddle with one of the straps of her tank top, and her eyebrows raise in a cheeky look that says 'We should get you out of these clothes, already.']
Sorry, but I don't want you looking in the mirror until I'm all finished, got it?
[And, of course, Cellinia will not be leaving the shower without several new marks to show for it.]
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Date: 2025-03-17 05:51 pm (UTC)like something she never had before in the way her fingertips rub into the skin, their callouses a stark contrast again. it's beautiful. this lovely sight. this sight of her lover all for her eyes alone. amber eyes which take in her pretty face. memorizing every detail as another thing. another part of their time spent together and days soon to come as they've both began to think more about it. about that idea that they have someone who causes them to look forward to their upcoming days. their weeks, months. hasn't that always been what girls like them could have ever wanted? someone in their lives they never want to let go of. that they couldn't let go of from an aching desire to have their lover. their lover as only theirs, their body belonging solely to one in possession while cellinia does think about it.)
Best view I could ask for, all for me.
(it's a soft purr, a soft growl for her lover. it's addicting. that urge and that high that comes from it. possessing, owning, and craving. the sights of one another, their bodies a canvas for their touch. a touch of something more in which has them dyed into a certain color that fits one another. marks that bloom across the skin, teeth that bit down into precious places slowly. hands that touch and leave their own markings from the way they grab. like starved beasts, starved girls who had too little of love and tenderness. they could be more like animals themselves. more than anyone else could be in those cravings.
she speaks in soft admiration, she means those tender words is the frightening part. words that would never be said to someone else had cellinia any say in that. she doesn't speak this way. vulnerability would always be her deepest struggle, but it's harder not to be vulnerable piece by piece. a tender drop of her guard that mai has in her hands so sweetly. so closely. all while she marks her body as belonging to a wolf, hers. only hers in all this misery, this sorry excuse for a world which often has hurt them and more than that. she's listening, she's got her eyes on her pretty face with that look in them again.
that hungry look. restrained, but tender. soft, like she knows what they're both waiting on together. what they both want from the rest of their time together. she wouldn't dare let go of her, would she? could cellinia keep this girl in her arms and never once feel that urge again with her instincts, the way it would gnaw at her as time goes on? that she doesn't get this way? it's a mystery, a mystery she can't say she knows or anyone knows.)
I can go over those then when I get a chance to. When you want more of me, bella signora....seems like we're both greedy for it.
(she can't deny that. she did want to satisfy mai more, she wants to leave her feeling lighter than she came to see her as. she wants mai to feel so at ease, to feel free. isn't that fitting for the woman who freed herself to want to not let her lover feel such misery that she knows too well? but enough about that, mai did have a point about their current states. cellinia has left more marks on her body than mai has on cellinia.
the turn of her bared body to face her lover, the lean of her back to the counter while mai grabs the straps of her tank top. she's not going to shy away now, not ever in how the wolf comes closer for her lover. her little red riding hood she runs her hands now along the thighs of idly. those amber eyes are soft, they're something pretty while she has them half full of hunger and something brighter for mai.)
That's right, you said you wanted to leave me a leopard, didn't you?
(but it didn't stop her, not from peppering kisses on mai's neck as she hums it out lowly for her. it's a slow tease, a tender tease because she knows her lover would want to undress her, this time. cellinia had done it earlier for her. it's only fitting she's a good girl for her while mai's soft hands brush against scars. whatever patches of soft skin she has along her upper body, all for mai.)
Come on, dolcezza. I want your hands on me.
(another word, another reminder. at least it wasn't "cara mia", like that wolf would have done in her sharp twisted smiles and own wants for the other one. she wasn't going to call her that so soon. but maybe she can use some other words, some other sweet things until that day comes where she calls her "amante".
her love, her lover.)
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Date: 2025-03-18 01:22 am (UTC)Besides, who needs a white knight, anyway? What a waste of a daydream. This cruel world seems all too happy to hammer the lesson home that no one will come to save a hopeless little girl, no matter how desperately she wishes or how pure-hearted she is. All the better, then, that Mai's heart is the farthest thing from pure. She'd frighten off any well-meaning knight, and look down on them for even trying to show her a picture-perfect ending. They'd recoil from the kind of person she really is-- but a beast wouldn't. This beast doesn't. If she so desired, Cellinia could sink her teeth into Mai's rotten little heart, drink up the juices that would send any would-be knight to his death, and let it fuel that animalistic appetite even further.
After all, what every monster desires is a young girl's heart, no? And the best ones would not even bat an eye at the misery that makes the taste of it bitter-- no, the best kind of monster would relish the taste of despair. They would know how to distort it, corrupt it even further, making that girl unfailingly theirs, never again to seek out some nonexistent fairytale ending. Won't you savor that despair, too, Cellinia? Could you, the day Mai decides that only a beast could deserve her cruel and lonely heart?]
Me? Greedy?
[She feigns offense, or makes a half-decent attempt at it, but the knowing glint in her eyes betrays her from the get-go. It's a trait she's aware of, one she never identifies by name, and hearing Cellinia call her out so casually makes her feel a little liberated. And dangerously so, from the smug smile that tugs at her lips.]
Got me all figured out already, huh?
[This accusation is purred affectionately enough. Though now, with both of them plainly acknowledging that they're not at all interested in self-restraint, it feels easier to let go a little more. Cellinia's hands stroking her thighs-- their familiar place, there-- has Mai melting for her. Pleasant sighs spill from her lips, punctuated by soft hisses and gasps when she feels Cellinia draw herself closer to kiss enthusiastically along her neck. And then, a breathy laugh when Cellinia insists on Mai's hands upon her, in return.]
Look at you-- making demands of me, greedy little pup.
[Ah, there's that slip of her mother tongue, another pretty word that Mai doesn't understand, though she's at least aware enough that Cellinia likes to speak it when uttering sweet nothings to her lover. She won't ask after it, not when she's plenty satisfied with how her wolf's mouth is occupied with kissing her. Well, greedy pups deserve to be rewarded, even when they're demanding. Mai brings her hand to the back of Cellinia's head, finding her hair tie and tugging it free, spilling pretty dark locks down her back and over her shoulders. Her fingers immediately comb through her hair, after giving her fluffy ears a tender stroking, appreciating the way they twitch beneath her touch. Her other hand is already roaming up Cellinia's back, halfway under her tank top, her fingertips trailing up and down her spine.
As much as it pains her to do so, Mai will slightly push her off, but only so that she can yank her top completely over her head. Better. It'll be much more enjoyable to pull Cellinia against her once again, a closer and tighter embrace this time, before kissing her deeply with a low hum of appreciation and unbridled need. It's perfect, feeling their skin flush with one another's. Mai is almost certain she can feel Cellinia's heart thumping against her chest, just as she knows that Cellinia can feel the erratic rhythm of Mai's own in exchange.
After a handful of kisses, Mai pulls away just enough to lower her head and nip firmly at the soft flesh below her lover's jaw. It should compliment the other marks nicely, Mai thinks to herself, while her hands busy themselves with either cupping at Cellinia's breast-- another place Mai has a hankering to nibble some souvenir onto-- and slipping teasingly beneath the waistband of her shorts, her nails digging softly into her hip.]
You're lucky that it really bothers me, leaving a job unfinished.
[The shower should be ready for them, whenever they decide that they've had enough with this warm-up. While Mai isn't in a terrible hurry to rush them, her mind is brimming with all of the places on Cellinia's perfect body that she wants to kiss and suck bruises onto. She imagines that most of her work would be best done atop a bed-- whichever of Cellinia's two beds they'll find themselves on once they've toweled off.]
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Date: 2025-03-18 02:04 am (UTC)they didn't need a knight, they lured in beasts. beasts like her who finds it too easy to drink of this fountain between them. affection that seems to be something only they'd understand, touches that light them on fire. make them feel again because it's evident that the world itself didn't care enough about their lives. only how to destroy them, only how to bring ruin on what once was beautiful souls. lonely girls like her only had to twist the beast themselves into their hands, lure them in further with such sweet promises. the offering of bodies while they give more, so very much more than most would have obtained. their teeth could snap into hearts like mai's, so full of despair and her own lonely desire.
could she ever drink it so deep? she might, she might even have a feast fit for a beast while letting this lonesome girl carve deeper into her body that demand of wanting the beast.
not a knight, only a beast. not a knight alive could withstand the beast who wants a girl like this. they're all so difficult, so terrible to try and kill. that only comes as fact from their suffering, their own agony and despair. they could drown it and nobody would know, just the same way they could drown their poor lover forever with them. but did it matter? what if they wanted to drown, what if they craved to be pulled under this current with their lover and forget about what's hurt them? forgot about the despair, the agony, the ways that nothing ever seemed to fit or go right? would she love that, would you, mai? to drown in that rain your wolf smells strongly of and let go like you both never existed to anyone other than each other?
isn't that all too fitting that they both come apart and decide their agony, their cruelty, is only fit for one another as those thorns cut so deep that nobody else could touch them?)
Greedy....yeah, you like it, you can't get enough of it, can you?
(because she can't. she couldn't, how cellinia murmurs it so heatedly. a fit of fire to that ice in her tone and in her veins. it only gets hotter at her gasps, that breathy laughter when the wolf makes that demand clear. greedy pup, huh? she doesn't like being called one (not usually) but exceptions are something made easily. like now where mai gets that much, an exception from the beast that is comfortable between her legs. that so happens to run her fingers along her bare thighs, trailing along in their rightful place on her body.
one of their rightful places when a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation of her tank top riding up halfway along her back. at her fingertips trailing along her spine and the other hand stroking those fluffy ears after taking her hair down. the twitch of them pleased by mai's hand working a sort of magic into them. she's melting again, but that's not a surprise. not too much of one while cellinia is coaxed back for her lover, to part enough for her and stop running her mouth along her neck for now. she won't complain, she knows why her lover needed her to.
the tank top falls to the floor with ease, cellinia even helping without a second thought before she's pulled in close. the skin flush and her battered body pressed against mai's softer skin. her heart is racing, it's obvious against mai's chest. she can feel how mai's own is hammering from their closeness. the closeness of their tight embrace before the kiss. deep, hungering, not in any rush from how well deserved it is thanks to their waiting earlier. god was it hard, she felt like an addict for her lips. for her kiss in how she needs more of those soft lips, more of her tongue brushing against her own. more of those sounds that she gets fed into them, cellinia even fed mai some of her own for that with each kiss. each growing more hungry, more wanting.)
Can it be helped if I can't get enough of you myself? I like it when you get this way, wanting more and and more. How much do you want those pretty lips of yours on me, dolcezza?
(she's always like this, always. how her head goes back enough to give mai more of that tender flesh she's after, how she moans softly for her. another mark for her to display, another as she shivers again from the sensation of nails teasingly digging into her hip. the soft press of them while her breast is cupped and palmed by her lover. her own hands squeeze into her thighs, not too hard and not too soft. near firm in the way they her claws press gently into them. a light threat, but they both know she wouldn't. not unless her lover willed it.
a light warm up before the shower isn't so bad. the slowness was fine, though cellinia knows not to take too long. they'd run out of warm water before they could get to the better part, the part where mai would decorate her body against her mattress in return for her being a good little beast for her. while breathing out these pretty words, these words she means. these words she wouldn't hold herself back on saying. don't you like it when the beast speaks so freely in her want? how she seems hellbent on making you feel something too more than misery and being numb to it, mai?)
How hungry are you?
no subject
Date: 2025-03-19 03:37 am (UTC)What-- you're gonna cut me off, now? Right when I'm about to have some real fun?
[She draws out this bit of teasing banter. Merciless teasing, rather-- which is all too obvious in the way her eyes lock onto Cellinia's when she pulls away from her neck. Maybe she shouldn't have riled her up, but maybe Cellinia will enjoy the way her own feral nature is rubbing off on Mai, just a little bit. After pressing her back against the wall opposite the sink, Mai takes the hand she has at her chest and slides it up to stroke Cellinia's face affectionately, contrasting against the sharp sensation of her nails in the skin of her hip. When she smiles at her lover, now, the softness belies a cruel pleasure at having her big bad wolf in cage made of beautiful flesh.]
But, of course you like it, though. Those other girls-- [ and she refers to the ones in the pictures that Cellinia has displayed in the main room ] --they don't look like the types who can get you so hot like this.
[Just like this, just where Mai knows that heat burns most passionately. Her eyes never look away the entire time she glides her other hand beneath the waistband of Cellinia's shorts, undoing them just enough to make space for her fingers to dip beneath her panties and touch her lazily in that place her fingers are already well-acquainted with. It's obvious from how wet she is that this craving is starting to become desperate. How lovely, the ease with which Mai can work her up. And yet, Cellinia runs her mouth so brazenly, still! She wants to bait Mai into confessing how much she wants to mark her, taste her, fulfill that promise to leave her wholly claimed by her-- but Mai has other ideas, of course.]
Ha! How much do you want my lips all over your body, Cellinia? You know what? I bet you've been aching for it so badly this entire time. Bet you were thinking of it while you were lapping me up, hoping you'd get your turn soon.
[Her voice drips with the absolute sweetest flavor of mocking. Really, it practically gets her off to taunt Cellinia like this. It'll get her into trouble, surely. But Mai can muster up some proper fearlessness when it suits her. What else is there to do, when neither of them want to back down from the challenge that only seems to mount higher and higher?]
So-- my hands weren't enough for you, hmm? Wanna taste yourself all over my tongue, next-- is that it?
[Satisfied with having stroked her lover just enough-- enough for Mai, definitely not for Cellinia-- Mai withdraws her fingers and brings them to her lips, giving them a single swipe with her tongue. Her eyes are alight with a dark amusement, watching Cellinia in the hopes of seeing something that will only feed that ravenous feeling.]
Guess you're in luck, again-- because I'm starving.
[And Mai decides-- cruel girl that she is-- that she'll make Cellinia beg for it, because she's the prettiest when she's brought to the brink. Forced to restrain herself while her wolfish eyes give her away entirely. There's little Mai finds that she loves more than shattering Cellinia's patience, over and over. She declared that she'd make this beast her own, after all. How else will she make good on that word, other than to take the shreds of bravery in her possession, and forge them into a weapon of pure ecstasy?]
But, I dunno-- should I get on my knees for you, right now? We've got a nice, hot shower waiting for us...
['I can be patient, unlike you,' her cheeky smile seems to say.]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-19 04:15 am (UTC)(cruel pleasure, that cruelty exists. she feels it in the way mai digs her nails in her hip. how she's pushed back against the wall. they're staring eye to eye again. mai's teeth biting down harshly into her neck. no, this is what she wanted to see. she wanted to see her. see how greedy her lover is, see the way she keeps wanting more from her. how much she has to have it, taking every inch of it offered before her like something given in worship. she loves it more than cellinia could ever say, in how her eyes shimmer from cruel teasing. cruel torturous pleasure in how her lover makes it clear that she knows her in what little time they've had together. she's paid attention well. in how she wants to drag out the big bad wolf into being wholly hers. she wanted her teeth and her bite solely as her own. cellinia herself must be pleased mai could even respond this way.
she wants every part of her, those hands and her mouth. those pretty lips all over her own. her hands taking hold of her body, cellinia finds it impossible to not imagine it. can't she ever be normal, is a question that's always been there. her father would at times ask this. accusatory and everything, that his daughter was not behaving the way a woman should. she didn't need to behave like, she didn't want to. what she wanted was something else. something more. she relishes in the softness with those scratches raked along her hip. how mai's hand seems so gentle against her cheek while cellinia leans her head into it at first.
she's thoughtful, thinking whenever she hisses out her moans. the moans her lover wanted to hear in such cruelty. in response to her mockery, even, how she has a growl rumble down her throat. mai would feel it from their closeness, she knows. she knows she'd feel the way cellinia's heart threatens to leap out of her chest. how it has yet to stop hammering for her in the way the wolf looks at this girl, this little red riding hood before her. cellinia doesn't say anything more, not yet, she has something in mind she wants to do first.
she threatens teeth in the heel of her hand as her lips brush against it, as if to say she would have bitten it if she could have. like she wanted to, but knows her lover would almost surely punish her. that was only a show of what mai could ever have craved for, in how she answers cruel pleasure with faint threats. faint threats and promises of teeth around the corner if pressed the right ways.)
I want your mouth on my body, leaving those pretty markings you wished to. All over, no matter if they're seen or not. I want your hands on me....leaving scratches, bruises, touching me so much you're all that haunts me.
(because she's by no means, not the type of girl to not feel greedy when allowed to be. cellinia even shows it, in how her eyes are dark with that craving. how much more is she going to spill out for their challenge? how much higher is it going to go? she responds so easily, so naturally. she wants to keep it going even as she whines almost from mai's fingers leaving that wet heat of hers. that must be a lovely sight. watching how she refrains from whining, and how she must be staring at the sight of her licking a single time her arousal and musk off her fingers.
she knows her too well, too well how she likes this. and maybe she would explain later that those were her friends, her coworkers. mai didn't know this, yet. she'll tell her later whenever they're not about to lose their minds in multiple ways when she sees that cheeky smile. that damn cheeky smile which calls out to her again, the sight of it another thing of beauty. something else she memorizes again to herself without a second thought. how many of those can she see? how much of her can she get while she wants to claim this girl as hers?
who knows, cellinia surely doesn't. she might never when she finds herself letting go more in the things she says.)
I want to taste you until you're the only thing I know, I want to haunt you as much as I wish you'd haunt me after this day.
(but she knows, they do need to be patient. if the water ran out before they could get clean, what good was their fun?)
I want to be ravenous for you, dolcezza, after this....
(after they bathe, then....)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-19 08:57 pm (UTC)A shame, the way that both of their father's would be so disappointed in them for their complete disregard for propriety. They ought to be cloaked in shame before one another, their families' best and worst, daring to be anything other than what their proud lineage dictates-- and what Fate dictates, too.
Ah, but it seems that Fate has changed her tune, hasn't she? No longer does she play the frantic melody of a chase between a hunter and the hunted, the tension so taut that the strings could snap at any moment. This time, Fate crafts them a perfect requiem meant for the haunting ghosts that Cellinia so ardently wishes them to become for one another. Fate, ever-silent in the manner with which she draws these two love-starved girls together, plays this dirge for them, and wills them to dare to be reborn in these little deaths that they promise one another.
Mai, herself, could never have believed that she'd ever want to completely crumble in the hands of a beast who professes herself to her with such poetry. Cellinia wants it all, does she? She yearns for Mai to leave irrefutable proof that she was here, thoroughly claiming this wolf for her own. She practically pleads for her to bury her soul in those bruises and scratches that Mai will unquestionably leave her filthy with. And when she feels the threat of those teeth against the heel of her palm, Mai can't suppress a sinful, gleeful grin-- Cellinia is all but promising to bequeath her own soul in return.]
Oh, Cellinia...
[Her name is murmured so sweetly, while Mai rubs the tip of her thumb slowly, menacingly against the corner of her wolf's threatening lips.]
I'm gonna ruin you.
[Because it sounds like an awful lot like a curse. Cellinia wants to curse Mai, curse her so deeply that not even the best sorcerers could ever hope to exorcise her. And Mai is already so pitifully condemned, and always has been from the moment she drew her first breath. This promise, this vow that Cellinia offers her lover to make with her-- it would only serve to make her whole, wouldn't it? To make that curse that had split Mai's soul in two, complete again. Ah, but what an uneven exchange this might be! Because Mai believes that she only has fragments left to offer, but will greedily take everything that Cellinia could possibly give her.
Indeed-- this pact will only ruin you completely, her pretty little wolf.]
I can't wait-- I can't wait to leave you an absolute wreck for me. Just like you want.
[And just like Mai wants to, but she'll leave that unspoken. Neither of them are leaving this place alive. And it doesn't need to be said-- or perhaps, Mai is still to proud to say it aloud-- that there is not a sliver of a chance that Mai won't be utterly haunted, herself, by Cellinia and these pretty words that she speaks without reservation. They're a foreign tune in her ear, one that has insidiously wormed its way into her mind, demanding to be replayed over and over and over whenever the inevitable loneliness creeps in too close.
'After this day...' Cellinia is condemning them both to ruin until they find one another again, isn't she? Such a cruelty of her own, one far more covert than Mai's, but no less treacherous.]
But, sweet-talking me like that-- [ and how addicted Mai already is to those alluring words ] --is really starting to frustrate me. I think I'll just have to make you pay for it, a little...
[What does she mean by that? Cellinia can use her imagination for a bit, while Mai strips her of the remainder of her clothing with far more impatience than she had boasted earlier. Not even the sight of Cellinia bared completely for her now does away with that frustration, instead only making it burn with more intensity.]
Go on-- get inside. If the hot water runs out, then you're really going to get it.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-19 11:32 pm (UTC)their father's would have deemed them lost causes, the best going as far as to touch the worst. to kiss and speak so sweetly to her. to touch her like she's special, to fuck her so tenderly that it would mean something more than this. than what would be considered a mistake on their parts, cellinia likes it. she likes that feeling of her body against hers, she likes even the way that her lover presses into her with those thorns. the thorns of a woman so very hungry and wanting, so greedy for affections offered to her. so demanding of them, like she never wanted to be satisfied. she wants them all. she wants every part of it.
how this goddess wants this wolf down to the last drop. they're a pair of lost girls, senseless and unreasonable. suffering a slow and miserable existence. who cared about them? whoever could about their starved little souls more than one another in the way they're both falling to pieces for it so early? that dirge calling out to them down to their souls is only demanding more of them, break to pieces more and more. come undone the way that their jaded hearts could. touch each other well off into the night and beyond that until they could no longer think straight, maybe even until they couldn't help the way they would forget everything. that they're not those ruined and lost girls the world made them into.
so why don't you, mai? bury her soul in your touch, carve it into something that you could only have and drown in your love? who needed fate when they have one another, who needs cruel fate and all its misery when their touch is a salve that they both never had in their lives. the cruel and soft words uttered, the threats soft and tender. they speak so sweet and so full of affections that another saner person would have wondered what kind of twisted affair this is between them. that's only how they show it, how they show everything in their own ways. her goddess longs to hear it, how the wolf and her beautiful eyes so wild could ever want her.
her name, spoken so sweetly. that promise on her tongue, the vow. she'd ruin her with a run of her thumb along the corner of her lips. her goddess touching them like she has ideas for those pretty lips of cellinia's that doesn't stop how they sweet talk to her. how they speak out such alluring promises. promises and vows of the world, of how she only wants one goddess. how they could ever have only each other in this world, nothing else could dare to compare to them. to the touch of her beautiful goddess that she stares at with those lovely amber eyes that she adores.
so full of want, so full of everything for her. isn't she beautiful? coming undone for her in words and prayers, hymns murmured against her skin. like she found new religion in the touch of her body, in the taste of her lips. in her moans and crying out for her. her most precious devotee who feels her heart beating faster. she wants that so much.
then ruin her, mai, ruin her so sweetly. so cruelly that the touch of another would be nothing. that only your hands could heal her, that only you could make her feel something again of her own. that all she needs is you. only mai, only her and what remains of their hearts. what remains of cellinia who gives so dearly these pieces of herself for her lover. for a goddess that wants to keep her beautiful beast in her hands and arms.
that's more than enough of a prize for someone as starved as they are, isn't it?
but never mind that, she hears her goddess. she's frustrated, is she? about those alluringly tempting words. words which come out those pretty lips so naturally. she means it all in this vow that's uttered. that craving and demand. how they seem to never stop and how cellinia can't help the way she wants to see her again after this day. she wants to ruin this goddess, too. in her own cruelty, she wants her to never forget what she speaks in reverence. what she utters to her heated and endless, in tender worship of lips against her lover's body.
against the body of her goddess when she catches what she was meaning, her body is bared. so within reach yet not in her dear goddess' impatience. cellinia doesn't argue or anything, their bodies separated and the sight of her prowling invitingly into the glass door of the shower. a look over her shoulder briefly at mai before she steps in proper. the heat of the water does nothing to calm this intensity and need she feels for what lit under her that greed again.)
Vieni, dolcezza, dammi il tuo bacio mentre riesco solo a pensare a te e al tuo tocco....
(if she translates it for her, that would be another time. but it was clear in how cellinia stared at her before then, before she spoke, isn't it? she wants her and she'd ruin mai too.)
Come ruin me, the way you want to.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-20 08:39 am (UTC)It almost makes one wonder-- who is the beast amongst the two of them, now? Wordlessly, it's as if they had traded roles, encouraged by the parts of themselves-- those unreasonable parts, buried oh so deeply-- that are calling out to one another. These fragments, so neglected and brittle, now glow hotly with a passion that has been awakened purely by chance. And though they still hide far beneath the surface, encased in the thorny shields forged from past anguish, these secret parts of them are almost, almost daring to trust one another. A curious sight-- the wolf, scarred with sin, prostrating itself before a girl, beseeching her to devour it, this time. Right the wrongs, even the scales by becoming the beast, now. How liberating it could be for the two of them to exchange their places, if only for today.
Mai takes a final glance in the mirror before she follows Cellinia beyond the foggy glass door-- still a girl, still a human, and very much not the beast she feels burgeoning inside. Yet something has shifted. Imperceptible, almost, save for a split-second of clarity the instant Mai meets her own eyes in the reflection. The triumph that she knows she tastes-- and one she anticipates tasing like Cellinia, sooner or later-- is sweetened by the surrender that coats it thickly, now.
'Come ruin me,' Cellinia implores her, perhaps even challenges her, with that dark need pooling depthless in her wolfish, amber eyes. But there is surrender, there, Mai can feel her own body responding to it with every electric tingle lighting up her nerves.
Her fingers grip the wet door handle, pulling it shut softly behind her. Warm steam pours into her lungs immediately, leaving her breaths a bit more shallow. That's fine, though-- Mai is already quite dizzy with something else. She can't put a name to this emotion. For her own peace of mind, she rarely ever does-- who would want to admit to the kind of feelings that seize their very soul, drawing them out from the safety of numbness? So, she'll leave it nameless. Better to let her hands map out the answer for her, instead.
Cellinia's back is turned towards Mai, still-- she'll keep it that way, wrapping her arms around Cellinia's torso and gently pushing her against one of the tiled walls. They're standing beneath most of the running water, and it's pleasant enough, especially with the way it feels when Mai presses the length of her body against her lover's, urging her more firmly against the wall.]
That's right-- forget about me, you know you want this, too.
[But of course, what Mai intends on doing now won't have Cellinia forgetting her anytime soon. She slides her fingers across her upper back, catching the long hair in a way that allows her to slip it over one of Cellinia's shoulders. Now, Mai has a perfect canvas to work with and make beautiful. After palming the expanse of her back, savoring the feeling of those firm muscles beneath the wet skin, she dips her head lower to lap along the rivulets of water traveling down the nape of Cellinia's neck. Her lips descend upon where her tongue traces, tender kisses against skin flushed from the heat of the shower.]
There you go again... [ She murmurs hungrily against the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting down with a softness to start.] Hiding yourself away in that tongue of yours. But you know what? That's fine by me.
[A shame that Cellinia can't see the naughty smile tugging at her lips, though it would be obvious enough in the tone of her words that Mai is up to something quite wicked. With one arm still wrapped around the woman's waist, Mai drags her free hand down Cellinia's scarred abdomen and further down until it finds its familiar place between her thighs. She won't even bother stifling a satisfied little laugh as soon as she finds what she's searching for.]
Because I bet-- [ and her fingers begin to stroke slowly, slowly at her clit, wanting to ruin Cellinia with her touch long before she gets to tear her down completely with her mouth in that same lovely place ] --I bet I don't need to know exactly what you're saying, when I can feel how much you're enjoying me.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-20 05:41 pm (UTC)until they both drown in it, in what it blooms and what it costs them from the bottomless depths of desire. it didn't matter who the beast was, who the actual one could be. not the way she offers herself so boldly to a woman who never had freedoms that cellinia obtained by killing her own. they're too good at complimenting one another. sinful and beloved daughter, sinful and beloathed daughter. taking both by the throat as they find themselves brought down. the grip of it threatening to suffocate like the rain cellinia brings with her for this lonesome goddess she finds herself devoteed in such ease. that anguish, that crying out of their poor souls is unending in itself. fractured, torn to pieces, aimless, and numbed to everything when they were ruined once before. the world never takes kindly to girls who want nothing more with some manner of innocent sweetness in their hearts. they're nothing to that cruelty and the way it shapes them.
she waits, her back turned and tempting in the black and red strands of her lengthy hair against it. a canvas for her lover when she's pushed firmly against the wall. her forehead, pressed against it with mai exposing every bit of soft skin she could ever desire in the patches of roughness along it. her canvas is somewhere she has more she can mark. somewhere that she feels tension easing from the brush of her hand against the firm muscles. the lap of her tongue against her nape drawing out sweeter sighs, shaky breaths while cellinia braces herself with a hand to the tiles of this wall she's pressed into.
even like this, the corner of her beautiful amber eyes is on mai. as best as she may, they speak plenty of what she wants. they say it more than words alone could ever at this moment where she's pressed firmly between the wall and feeling the length of mai's body against her. ah, she wants to kiss her again already. isn't she utterly hopeless? that she could want her lips so much yet doesn't beg for them. she wants to feel them against her skin.
she wants them to chase after their own insatiable greed in how the goddess wants this wolf all to herself. the wolf who sighs out the prettiest of songs for her lover, her little red riding hood and goddess in how she stands. legs parted enough as mai speaks. while she leaves tender kisses along the expanse of her back, along every inch of it her goddess could ever desire as her own to paint in a color she'd know. this marking that would stay carved into her body.
ruin me, just like this. she mouths it wordlessly, she needs it and finds that urge to ruin her lover in kind is there. so strong and demanding in its own want to never let mai forget about a lonesome beast that wants to be haunted by her, that wants to be cursed to never forget her face and to chase it. chase it until she finds her again, until she can touch her and have mai again. until mai could have the wolf that wanted nothing more than to ruin her, too.
come on, lover, ruin her. the way you want to, the way you have to as a means of tying this lonely and jaded girl to you forever. into having her never leave you alone. her teeth sinking in your skin, claiming you forever as her own while never letting go of you. ruin her so beautifully that she can only dream of you, mai.
that she would haunt the dreams of a wolf and remain, chasing away everything in it's violence.)
F-fuck.... (she doesn't always speak crassly, not out of her second language. the words hungry and making her shiver. the teeth biting down in a lovely spot that her lover found. that mai picked out in a tender mark of teeth against it, her sweet sighs are shaky. the softness of her moans echoing against the walls. no, she wasn't wrong. cellinia speaks and purrs out the words she wants to say in it and never says what they mean.
that mai was right, her body betrays her in her silence on the matter in how she shudders at the slow stroke of her clit. the delicious torture, the tease of it in how cellinia doesn't struggle in her surrender. does she say it for her? speak out that poetry she hides behind in utter reverence now and tip them over further, further down in their hearts threatening to swallow them and not let go?) Do you....want me to tell you more words, that you want to know the meaning of? (does she want to hear sweet poetry, something that would add more to the mistakes they've made? in their frustratingly and alluring sound, their temptation and honestly.)
Any words....that you want to know, that you want to hear me say.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-21 07:15 am (UTC)And perhaps, maybe one day, this rain might even purify her in all of its sin. Imagine that-- these two anguished souls, utterly condemned by this heartless world, sanctified in this strange union. Who would think that these two could be any more than a pair of fools in the throes of their mistakes, one of many in their disappointing lives? Because there is little more foolish than abandoning their responsibilities, their mundane obligations, to sneak away and play at being lovers. Cellinia should have never taunted Mai with salacious fantasies-- and Mai should have never thought herself so bold as to challenge this wolf without considering the consequences that would sweep her up in devoted promises that seem almost too good to be true.
But what do they know? All they're armed with is one another's name, and the molten desire that melts them down with every irrational second that they continue to spend together. All Mai has is that look in Cellinia's eyes, one that threatens to haunt her already, a look that sees something that Mai doesn't. This foolish wolf wants to belong to her, she thinks that Mai is someone worth belonging to. And she would almost pity Cellinia for this mistake, the gravest of all that she's making today-- but she is rotten enough to revel in it, pretend that it's the real thing, not even realizing that it will be.
Mai doesn't see those pretty lips mouthing that silent plea to ruin her, but she absolutely hears Cellinia cursing desperately as soon as her teeth sink into that tender skin. It makes her giddy to hear her pretty wolf reduced to such vulgarity, especially after she has made her desires known so beautifully. Oh, but Mai loves it, the way she can make the pendulum swing between these delicious extremes. A beast is still a beast, after all, no matter how enchanting their declarations.
She smiles in delight against the mark she leaves at Cellinia's neck, already on the warpath to ruining her with the hunger of her mouth and the parallel eagerness of her fingers.]
How cute... [ another bite, above Cellinia's shoulder blade this time ] That you still want to give me lessons while I'm trying to teach you a thing or two.
[A very messed-up lesson of Mai's own, in how one should never beg for some pitiful nobody to devastate them as thoroughly as she intends to. It already seems like Cellinia is learning quite well, already, an avid student whether she's aware of it or not. From her sighs and soft moans reverberating so wonderfully, Mai has all the confirmation she needs that Cellinia is more than happy to surrender to the ruin promised with each glide of her fingers, each kiss along her back.]
You can say whatever you want in that pretty tongue of yours. I know it gets you off, losing yourself little by little while you praise me.
[Oh, how she adores the way Cellinia is shuddering in her hold while she continues to work her fingers steadily between her legs. Mai tightens the arm she has at her waist, pressing her body even closer to the wall while she nibbles lazily at the back of her neck and shoulders.]
How about... Mmm, how about telling me how good I'm making you feel, right now? Tell me how happy you are to fall apart for me again.
[Go on, Cellinia, tell your capricious little goddess these things in that foreign tongue of yours. The wolf need not even translate it-- or rather, Mai doesn't think she has it in her to do so, if the girl's cunning fingers have anything to do with it.]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-21 05:49 pm (UTC)she can't help it, not the way she moans for her. not the way that tightening coil in her belly thrums from how close she's starting to get from slow torture alone. ruin her, lover. make her fall for you so hard in the future she'd give you the world. that she'd whisper feelings she never told another soul. get them from her pretty lips as she's pinned to the wall more. the wolf's head pressed to half look at mai now. she's trying to not dig her nails into the tile. cellinia even attempts to keep herself steady, but it's obvious she would let go soon. sooner rather than later. under the hot water that streams down on them.
she has a name, a name that's beautiful in it's meaning. the meaning of it being heaven, the moon. doesn't it suit her? this pretty wolf that her lover touches so much. she's receptive to that touch, to mai's hands and teeth along her body. that they're both so torn apart by the world they dare to dream about this being the real thing. that someone like cellinia could dare to taunt her into ruining her. that she was desperate to be ruined and ruin her in how those amber eyes are searing in their burn. a bright burn that doesn't fade, so tantalizing in how they beg for it. beg for her lips and teeth along this body in its scars. this body her lover considers perfect, a work of art for her touch.
they don't even have anything more than a name, their desire, their faces memorized. she curses, she utters them at the sensation of teeth. that bite down into her back as her lover carries on this warpath. this ever-growing demand to satisfy a hunger within for herself. cellinia's sighs become sharper for her. shaky, her moans a better song than the music she would play in the car and at home from a dislike for the silence of both. from that need for something to cover it up, the way it gnaws at her mind.
how lonely her wolf must be, must have been without her in her life. how lonely she must be to demand it; for them to be tied together at their very core whenever she near misses it. how mai calls it cute of her to want to speak like that. that she wants to whisper such sweet words, sweet cravings dripping in poisonous sin and promises. affections that both girls would never grow tired of wanting, demanding.)
Toccami....solo così. Voglio che la tua bocca mi perseguiti, voglio che i tuoi occhi non mi lascino mai. (she has to pause, a shudder again while attempting to get her mind together. she wants to try and tell her goddess what she wants to say. what she said. maybe she is terrible at conveying it, everything to do with it. but the lazy nibbles, how her little goddess asked for it did make cellinia want to try.) T-touch me....just like this. I want your mouth to haunt me, I want your eyes to never leave me.
(the words are hissed out, unrestrained in their desires. the want within them. give it to her, little red riding hood. she didn't care how terrible of an idea this is. this was for both sides as they left behind mundane and boring lives for a moment they were anything but that. she can only offer those heated whispers of words far too beautiful for girls like them who were destroyed by the world, offer that sweetness which many would kill for themselves so freely.
this poison that she feels mixed into the heat of passion that both girls ignored, desiring not the antidote of their afflictions. they only wanted that tender cruelty that would break them apart and take more while cursing them further into being shadows of their former selves. torn apart, beautiful, and jaded.)
Voglio ricordare te e il tuo corpo, le tue grida. Il modo in cui gemi per me, il modo in cui io gemo per te.... (another shaky pause, another moment of her claws scratching to tiles. it's harder to translate now than it is to talk with how frayed her mind is and yet....) I want to remember you and your body, your cries. The way you moan for me, the way I moan for you....
(oh cellinia, one day you might stop digging yourself further down in your sins. or you might never, she only knows she feels it so strongly. something she can't put a finger on, something that makes her want more than they both could have dreamed of.)
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Date: 2025-03-22 04:47 am (UTC)So, Mai should be more tender with Cellinia, then, shouldn't she? To surmise that a lover might be bereft of something so easily given in this moment, wouldn't it be far more kind to be gentle, whisper soothing sweet nothings while ushering in the deep relief that accompanies release? When Cellinia turns her face just a bit, her cheek pressed to the tile and her eyes seeking out Mai's, the girl can imagine she sees the flames of a certain kind of desperation dancing in their depths. The way that Cellinia's groans become more drawn-out, more shaky and breathless against the soothing sound of the falling water, causes a needy ache of Mai's own grow between her hips. The wolf wants her eyes to never leave her, does she? That's fine-- their position will leave no room for Cellinia to hide those wonderful expressions from Mai's ravenous stare.
And that's when Mai comes to a surprising conclusion-- she will be kind to Cellinia, even if it's not in the way that a lover ought to be. She'll be good to her in the way that twisted sinners like them deserve, breaking her down sweetly with the hands of someone who knows exactly how to do it. After all, that's the way to tame a beast-- not with a sadistic superiority that crushes her underfoot, but with a tender cruelty that leaves her so euphoric that she'll seek out sanctuary in the poisoned affection of a new master.]
Aww, thank you for teaching me. You're such a good girl...
[Her praise is sincere, even if her gratitude is practically sopping with sarcasm. She wants to make sure that Cellinia gets both, after all. She's earned the praise from shuddering so perfectly whenever Mai strokes her just right, all while making a visible effort to keep her wits about her. 'Touch me... just like this.' Very well-- Mai is only too happy to keep up her good work. Cellinia is just so deliciously sensitive for her, after all. She really wouldn't mind playing with her all night... The prettiest of toys for a girl like Mai, who would explore every inch of her in an effort to really see what she's made of. Call it a force of habit thanks to her training, with her learning the composition of something thoroughly enough to recreate it. Thankfully, she's not restricted by her dismal cursed energy here-- there's no limit to the ecstasy she wants to craft for Cellinia before their time is up.]
Maybe too good, though, since you're still talking...
[Satisfied with the tiny marks her nibbles have left (and in a place that Cellinia would need a mirror to properly appreciate), Mai raises her head to kiss her cheek, her eyes still holding her lover's gaze firmly as she pulls away. Ah, how gorgeous, the searing look within her wolf's eyes, that plea for more, more until she finally reaches that peak. Hm... ]
But, tell me, Cellinia, because I really have to know--
[And right when she knows she has her, Mai stills her movements. It's there, that faint throbbing against her touch as she still cradles Cellinia's clit in her fingers. A familiar self-satisfied smile finds itself on Mai's lips again before she continues her light taunting.]
Just how are you gonna make me cry out for you after I've ruined you completely? You think I'll really let you have that chance?
[She rests her chin atop Cellinia's shoulder, stroking her stomach with the hand around her waist while her other hand remains painfully motionless. Goodness, her nerves are really frayed, aren't they? Cellinia is steadily losing her mind, like this, and Mai can't get enough of neither the sight nor the feeling of the absolute sin she's concocting for the both of them.]
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