[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.]
(maybe. with cellinia it was never that easy to tell, she could have been talking big. or another thought, she's restraining herself again. restraining the parts of herself that wants to come out against her wishes; she's every bit some manner of beast no matter how she's taking this lesson. a lesson in which mai might be pushing too close to the sun against instincts. if her other goal was to stir it again, she's on the way there. bringing out something that should never be touched again without considering the consequences. there's no way around that now, is there? the idea that she could get that opportunity to stir that wild beast by touching her in a torturous pace. working her into that slow torture of touch and wanting more than they'd ever both be satisfied by in their hunger and the raging pit of their greed.
which comes as no surprise, her claws scratch the tiles at the light taunts mixed with gratitude. scratches against the surface of them, any deeper, and they'd near break the damn things in an afterthought on what could come from that kind of reaction. that's that issue of going for something teetering often between civilized and uncivilized. all it takes is something to press into buried down instincts, buried down everything. cellinia so happens to have worse than some might have ever expected. not just her instincts, but her everything. the violence that she abandoned, the need for that rush of adrenaline she could get from doing something terrible. something as terrible as her speeding, her fights, the nights she went out to clubs at the behest of friends. each too willing to drag her out, some even concerned about the sight of her after she drinks.
but she's not drunk, she's not even sure what she is. that lonely void is large and never-ending. this storm within her, threatening at the eye of it in every means that it had. cellinia's eyes seem to keep that fire, that searing desperation. that something else within them from the stirring of more bestial instincts as mai's lips press against her cheek. she asked for this, she wanted this. she wanted to be ruined thoroughly, she wants to equally ruin in kind by whatever means she could. in that pretty mouth, in those claws of hers that she refrains from using more than her teeth. a funny thought, something like her can force herself into not raking lines into pale skin that could have stung something fierce and beautifully as extras to the teeth she left.
that praise isn't lost on her, that way she said it even with the way it drips sarcasm and how satisfied this girl must be. at the idea that she could have her like this, the lonesome beast who growls when mai's hand stops. when that taunt leaves her lips, the sight of her pleased with herself while cellinia stills herself. that throbbing ache is painful, she's been losing her mind the more this goes on. slow torture. a lot of slow torture and that feeling of her lover's hand running along her toned stomach. she almost swore she caught a familiar scent, a scent of need of her lover's own.
that tortured look, it becomes something else. tortured, ravenous, and maybe too hungry for anyone sane. anyone would know, they shouldn't try to reason with a wolf. they shouldn't even try to touch a wolf this way without some manner of expectations that it'd get bad for them when mixed with taunts. this could even be another way of ruin, another to set her on the path. it doesn't take her much, it doesn't to get her to react and shift their positions. with mai against the glass instead of the tiles. oh, that look in her eyes must be positively delicious. that snarl, that way she isn't talking.
something teetering feral, something less than gentle in how she responded. isn't it beautiful? this is a beast. this is what they're often warned about, and all of this wolf is for this goddess and her tender cruelty. that poisonous desire she offers the beast, her wolf. her beautiful wolf that she wants to decorate the body of. make a claim of her own about, the toned muscle and how she presses them firmly to the glass beneath the warm water. it didn't feel like it was cleaning them, it only felt as though it's adding more to this now raging fire that's started to thrum in her veins.)
Didn't I say that I want to ruin you too, Mai?
(how it rumbles out of her throat lowly, her lover's name. something violent, something like a purr in those growls. their fathers would surely hate this more. that mai could stir something so "uncivilized" in this golden child. in a snarl of teeth and their bodies. is this what her goddess wanted to see? that wild part of her stirring for her pleasure? this twisted affection a beast could only have when it comes to their lover's and those they want to make theirs?
because she has indeed earned this sight. from that beautiful and searing look of wildness in her amber eyes to everything about it.)
[Now, was it truly Mai's intention to stir up those feral instincts in her lover? It's more apt to say that it's simply an inevitable consequence of the kind of taunting she enjoys doling out-- especially to someone who was practically begging for it! What else is Mai to do with such an appealing request, other than to give it her all in away that only she is able to? Really, if Cellinia was aware of how little Mai tried at anything of importance in her life, she might even feel honored at the concentrated efforts she was putting into fulfilling her plea to be touched and haunted and ruined. This might be the only thing she could ever take so seriously, consequences be damned.
After all, she knows perfectly well that she has a veritable beast at her fingertips. Mai knew the moment Cellinia complained about that oaf confusing a wolf for a cursed spirit, and those sneaky wheels in her head really began to turn once she got that first picture. Honestly, Cellinia, what is all of this but your own consequences for piquing the interest of one very bored and very lonely girl? She very well could have been a professional courier and let Mai's flirtations die off without a response, but look at her, now-- trapped under Mai's hot gaze, tortured by her soft fingers, riled up more and more by her teasing remarks. Here she is, offering this girl the sweetest of phrases, such gallant promises, all while Mai chews them up greedily as fuel for her own merciless endeavors to make her noble little wolf crumble completely for her.
Oh--! But when she feels herself pushed away from her very comfortable place behind Cellinia and now pressed firmly against the glass of the shower, Mai can plainly see that her ruinous path is cut short. What was the last straw, she wonders with a smug look on her face. Was she doing too good of a job at delivering her the devastation she was asking for? She doesn't regret it, not a single bit, that she might have taken it a step too far with ceasing her touch right as Cellinia was so close to coming undone for her. Too bad-- for Cellinia. Mai's fingers miss her already... ]
Mm. I might remember you saying that.
[Goodness, the way she snarls her name really does something to Mai, doesn't it? It makes her feel like she's on fire, the heat blazing in the pit of her stomach raring to lick its way up until it engulfs her very heart. She likes it quite a bit, even more than those pretty foreign pet names that she's still mostly in the dark about. But nothing sounds better than hearing her own name uttered in a way that promises something at once dangerous and delightful. And she won't ask her to say it again, not yet-- perhaps once they're in bed and Mai has the upper hand again-- but it's already burned itself into her mind. Before today, her name might as well have been synonymous with disgrace, disappointment, and annoyance. When had anyone ever said her name like this? Ah, well, she has no desire to find out if anyone else could ever utter it in the same way.]
But I wasn't finished with you, yet. You're really just gonna barge in and take over?
[And it is a sight that so thoroughly delights Mai, witnessing an untamed fire of Cellinia's own, blazing in the heat of her stare. Maybe it isn't so terrible, losing her chance to keep edging and torturing her darling wolf. But, Mai's hands are so empty now, and lonely for more of Cellinia's body after having the opportunity yanked away so rudely. They find their place at her hips, gripping into the flesh with a marked harshness that will undoubtedly leave deep red crescents from her nails.
The two of them look so splendid beneath the stream from the shower, with water collecting heavily at their hair and spilling down their faces in glimmering rivulets. No, it certainly isn't doing much to clean them when they're this committed to messing one another up even more. Nor does it even bother to quench the passionate fire already in the throes of suffocating them entirely. Maybe this entire shower adventure was a terrible idea... But the way Cellinia's wet body feels against Mai's does enough to outright reject that train of thought.]
I liked you better when you had manners, Cellinia. Guess I'll just have to be a little meaner to you whenever you're done trying to ruin me, huh?
[Did Cellinia think she could frighten Mai into submission like this? She should have known from the beginning that any girl who willingly follows a wolf into its lair is a terror all her own.]
(maybe she did do it a little bit too well, but it's nicer seeing her like this isn't it? how driving her to ruin could drag out something so delicious for her, something so tantalizing. the shower was a bad idea. it didn't matter how much of one it was, between the feeling of their bodies together and how cellinia herself showing her lover something more. something more from her darling wolf when mai digs her nails into her hips, she presses them closer. all it would take is the right grind, the right push to tip her over more from their closeness. cellinia shows it too well when she gets this way. it didn't matter if it was only her name said, maybe she should stop using those pretty words. she isn't that silver wolf and her sharp twisted grin. she's something more dangerous in her own way.
she could have been professional, but everything was tempting. the way she twisted into her and pressed her buttons. how mai even promised things herself. that had no denial in the way she ignored professionalism. cellinia could only blame herself more for this. the way they're both in some ways at fault for the mistakes they're making together; the lines raked into her hips feels too good. when was the last time someone got a bit rougher with her? someone that wasn't obsessed with her and wanting to kill her at the same time as being in love with her for a morbid lover's suicide. both dying by one anothers hand.
she growls again, ah, mai might find it hotter of her. she might even want more of it. how she growls, how she responds to the nails digging into her hips like it's among pleasures she rarely gets. she misses her fingers too, how they felt torturing her so thoroughly. her manners coming up causes the wolf to snarl again. teeth shown to her lover with her own hands not as freed in how they press to the glass beside mai. they can wind up in her bed if they wanted to, but both sides are far too stubborn and lit on fire in other means to think about it.
or to care much about the idea of soggy sheets, the two of them wet and tangled, while mai takes that opportunity to do whatever else she's thinking about doing to her. she really should have held back more, but cellinia finds that even difficult when it comes to her lover already.)
I do have manners, Mai, but even I can get impatient. Or are you going to tie my hands together after while you torture me so sweetly more?
(there it is again, the way her name rumbles out of her mouth. like something fierce. something feral, she likes this about her. the way she's a terror and pushes her further. she wouldn't be doing this if she disliked it. it's obvious. she's got the full attention of a wolf and how she's hungry, how that tongue of hers licks her chops as warm water curtains them and soaks them. this is only fueling that need for sins of their own. she wants to be haunted, she wants to be ruined. cellinia even wants to drag her down with her. her darling wolf is so easy to torture, so easy to press into her own desire for whatever path they're after. they're a mess. internally and outwardly. a mess in how they shouldn't be doing this.
yet here they are with the wolf, looking almost as if mai could tip her over however she pleases. coming undone all for her, like the wild animal she is or beneath her as her lover takes control from her thoroughly.)
That sweet cruelty of yours, I can't get enough of it while you keep pushing it further and further. Don't you hold back on me, I won't on you too, Mai.
(if she demands more, cellinia would give it. if she wants to see her let loose, wildly and free then she will. her lips soon find themselves pressed to mai's. there's a roughness to the kiss, not too rough and not too gentle. a balance to that harshness. she doesn't want to not respond in kind to that cruelty, by giving her something exciting to go with it. she did provoke her and that smug face....ah, she loves that too much, too.)
That face of yours, like you think you won....come on, give me more of it. I want to see it when you take more of me as being yours.
(somewhere her father is turning in his grave more, and maybe her grandfather is. how the mighty have fallen, truly. the pride and joy of one family must have lost her mind to go that far. although, maybe less her grandfather turning over the idea. that man has always been accepting of her and her choices.)
Mmm, impatience looks good on you, though. Has anyone ever told you that? Or do they not get to live long enough to tell the tale?
[There she goes again, pushing Cellinia's buttons with a false pivot into affection. The hands at her hips digging even more tightly betray whatever sweetness dances upon her words and lurks within her smile. Still, Mai isn't lying-- she's the type to get her kicks far too often from dragging another to the point of frustration. A shame that it's a wickedness that was never properly disciplined out of her, though maybe the bigger shame is that whatever survival instinct that should warn her against taunting wild beasts is overridden by this wicked streak. Cellinia can bare her teeth in those attractive growls that Mai draws from her in that impatience, she can even cage Mai in against the glass, her eyes flashing wildly while her tongue licks her lips with a palpable danger. The fear is there, after all, though far from the proper kind that would have Mai running away as fast as her human body can take her. Rather, it's a messed up kind of adrenaline rush that keeps her wanting to play the delectable prey offering herself up to the beast's mouth only to snatch herself back and start the chase all over again.
Cellinia's appealing offer to stop her from using her hands causes Mai to giggle mirthfully. It's appealing, isn't it? The manner in which the wolf gives herself up to be restrained, all the while Mai can still use her hands however she pleases. Like now, as she slowly, slowly rakes her fingers up from Cellinia's hips, up her sides, savoring how her nails scrape against the wet flesh at her mercy. Silly little wolf-- don't you see that Mai is the one who needs her hands tied? Or maybe she understands it all too well, and is surrendering even deeper to those sweet cruelties that she's oh so addicted to... ]
Careful, now-- asking me to tie you up. What if I forget to let you go? Poor thing, you might even starve to death unless I remember to come back for you.
[And then Mai thinks on it-- and her train of thought is all too obvious on her face. She wears a look that all but says that maybe she should do it, tie Cellinia up and really, really ruin her. Could she do it? Could she bring this proud, dangerous wolf to a place she can't return from? Mai was almost fooled into thinking that they had reached that point several times up until this moment-- but now, staring back into the lustful eyes of the woman before her, she catches a sliver of light behind a door she wasn't aware of before. And now, there's a budding fear she is almost hesitant to entertain. What then, should her wolf break free? Perhaps she would hunt Mai down, blind to everything but the revenge of pleasure she would enact in return upon this foolish human. It would be a promise fulfilled, one that would drag them both to an inescapable ruin. How delightful.
Mai isn't caught off guard entirely by Cellinia's insistence on a kiss, and from the moment their lips meet, she can feel the aching impatience that compels her wolf to seek her kiss out once again. It tastes different from their earlier passions, insatiable in a more ruinous way, tempered by a yearning that doesn't draw its strength from a lover's kindness. It tastes like Cellinia is nearing her breaking point, and when Mai realizes this, she laughs into their kiss, pulling back to let her amusement really spill free.]
'Think' I've won? You're funny-- I know I've won. Just look at you, trying so hard to be tough with me, when you just can't help but beg for me to domesticate you in the same breath.
[She sneers with more than a touch of derision, freeing one hand to grasp at Cellinia's hair and pull her back, keeping her from satiating her need for another kiss. She can tell that her wolf wants more so badly. What better way to discipline her than deprive her of such a treat?]
You know-- I don't have to do anything more than this, do I? Because it looks like you're already mine, and all I had to do was touch and kiss you a little. Are all wolves as easy as you are, Cellinia? Or did I just luck out with the most desperate pup of the litter?
[And she laughs again, almost drunk with the power she thinks she has over Cellinia right now. The hand at her head brings her closer, closer, almost close enough for another kiss-- but instead Mai darts her tongue out to run against Cellinia's lips in a merciless taunt.]
Tch, nobody has. They're either running away like pathetic weaklings or too scared to talk after I'm through with them.
(how blunt of her, but she isn't wrong. nobody has said this to her. there are no mentions of deaths at her hands, though it's obvious by looking at her now, isn't it? she's got that look to her. that air to her that says this wolf has taken lives, plenty of lives. her tone shows plenty on what she thinks of those foolish enough to bite off more than they could chew and then turning tail to run, the bite to it. the growl blanketing those words. how many have tried to keep up with her, how many have failed? are they even alive? that's the answers that nobody knows. answers that cellinia would never give out to anyone. only one person has done more than her fair share to this wolf, she isn't here. she would have been laughing loudly at their back and forth like it were entertainment to her. because that twisted silver wolf and her blackened heart knows this one too well; she knows her to the point she'd even mention everything all casual.
like a game to her. twisting, untwisting, unraveling and reveling in it. she'd tell stories that would make girls like mai half delight or half fear the depth of misery in all of them. she'd find it amusing. watching the way they twist, their similarities like something special while taunting that mai could never understand cellinia the way she does. but that woman has yet to show again her face. the twisted smile and her blackened desires of taking what she deemed rightfully as hers. she would never tell mai about her, not about their history. how it threatens to take her by the throat and drag her down.
another snarl, the bearing of those teeth. the moment her head is pulled back away by her hair from their kiss, the growling is louder. a rather frightening purr. something that threatens to ruin them both the more she's pressed into. the wolf is such an unusual girl, isn't she? her wolf who has those little thoughts and desires, her wolf who wants so badly to mark her proper as her mate. this fast, this soon. what a mess she is with those thoughts and her own desires. to want these sweet cruelties and more done to her. this twisted affection they're both sharing and indulging in together. what a beast, what a shame of a parentage that had done so much for cellinia. she should be the one being the responsible adult, and here she is, with her little red riding hood and goddess not doing any of that.
ignoring responsibility, ignoring all reason to bare those teeth. like she's so badly wanting to latch down somewhere more noticeable and mark this woman more than she knew. what better way to lure it out of her?) You haven't won until I make you mine fully, until I make you my proper mate. (which is true, even as cellinia hisses it out. she hadn't told mai about that and what it means to be her mate. wolves do mostly take one lover and one alone. lappland had been after that from her, but she never could obtain it from cellinia.)
Or is that going to be what you're after? My teeth in you, giving you that pretty mark of teeth deep in your neck and claiming you fully as mine?
(doesn't it sound lovely for their twisted affections? mai would get to be claimed solely by a ravenous beast who would make her family suffer for daring touch her. is that what she could ever dream of? a gallant beast, wild and willing to tear them to pieces for her? the girl bringing this rain down as she touches her, begs so sweetly for her to touch her?
she's not arguing that she can sound desperate, she knows she is. deep down isn't she a mess? they're both seemingly far off from how they wish to be seen. cellinia who tries to be anything but what she once was, mai who avoids others seeing the way she gets treated. which is why cellinia meets that sneer, that sneer with another growl. the echoes of it loud along the walls when mixed in with that expression that lit up at the idea of genuinely tying her down.)
If you want that, I wouldn't let go of you. Not even for a second, the minute I do bite you that way while I touch you....nobody would stop me from having you.
(not even the zen'in, who would surely be displeased that mai had been taken by a wild animal. a mutt. though she's far better than those fucked up excuses of misery and abuse in people. too willing to drag down others.
too willing to chain them forever to one spot while laughing.)
[After she's through with them-- is that right? Mai has half a mind to make some smart remark that she would still have it in her to talk back after Cellinia was 'through' with her, but something about the gravity of Cellinia's tone has Mai hold her tongue. In place of her reply is a short hum and a delicate raise of her eyebrows. Sure, the two of them have been far too busy with other important matters to trade stories on the more depressing aspects of their lives. Really-- disappointment, death, and other dreary things have no place in this rendezvous (that's decidedly more than just a measly rendezvous, at this point). And while Mai wears her failures deep beneath her pretty, unblemished skin, Cellinia's battle scars are far more obvious if one gets lucky enough to peek beneath her clothes-- or stand bare beneath a running shower with her.
But, so what if her wolf has enjoyed a bit of blood on those beautifully dangerous teeth of hers? That simply means that whoever dared to challenge Cellinia ended up falling short of what was necessary to fell a beast. They deserve those insults, truly. Though Mai's lover sports a map of scars along her body, what else are they but proof that it takes far more than blades or bullets to keep her down for long? 'Pathetic weaklings,' indeed. Mai has already uncovered the proper way to bring the big bad wolf to her knees, and it isn't with conventional weapons-- amusingly enough, though, Mai's own revolver got to enjoy a bit of action without sparing a single round on its target. Not even Mai herself needed to use whatever scraps of cursed energy she would normally cobble together to claim a triumph.
If only her family could see her, now, but they'd almost certainly recoil in disgust at the scene playing out right here. She can see it clearly-- her mother would hide her face in shame, while her father would rage like a ruthless inferno at his useless daughter teetering on the edge of letting some mangy dog mark its territory on his property. It's hilarious, all of it, from this horrid fantasy of her parents, to the solemn declaration Cellinia makes to fulfill her promise to make Mai hers, that monstrous father of hers be damned.
And so, Mai allows herself to dissolve into a fit of laughter, sharp and incredulous and not directed at any one particular person.]
Mate? Seriously, Cellinia-- you didn't really lure me back to your place so you could try to make me your little wife, did you?
[Just uttering those words herself makes Mai laugh even more-- a truly dangerous feat in the face of a snarling wolf with the last vestiges of self-control fraying in real-time right in front of her.
Mate, wife-- it all means the same thing to Mai, who lived her entire life watching the women in her clan be reduced to nothing more than bedmates and broodmares for their cruel-hearted husbands. She had banked on it being her own future, one day. Surely there was someone out there willing to overlook her lack of talent-- lack of worth, really-- in hopes of marrying a close relation of the clan's head. All anyone really needed was her pretty face and attractive figure. Perhaps her offspring might redeem her, some day. Goodness knows that the same could hardly be said for her own mother. But Cellinia's offer-- or is it a threat?-- truly throws Mai for a loop, for she can't fathom what a she-wolf would want with a human girl for a 'proper mate'. This confusion only serves as fuel for her amusement, and by now, Mai's grip at Cellinia's hair and body loosen even more in her snickering.]
Oh, don't tell me-- you're trying to make an honest woman out of me, now, after screwing me in the back of your car. How noble of you.
[Because if that was all it takes to become promised to someone, be it a wolf or a human, then Mai would have been tied to far lesser mates who dared to enjoy her body on a whim. But in the end, not even they ever bothered to claim her-- she was too far beneath them, when all was said and done, after all. And yet, here Cellinia was, knowing far less about Mai (and her many drawbacks) than any of them, and pledging more to Mai than anyone in this entire world would deign to do. She ought to say no, she ought to laugh in her face and shove her away for playing around with her feelings like this. And yet... the hand tangled in Cellinia's hair merely moves to pet her sharp, drenched ears, a tiny gesture of affection in the face of her caustic tongue.]
And that's how I 'win,' huh? With a scar on my neck and a promise from you to never let me go?
[While Mai's tone sounds cynical, and that sneer on her face only feeding the incredulity at what Cellinia proposes, her eyes are alight with an unmistakable glee. There it is again-- her gallant wolf, trying to play the white knight who would wish to claim her, faults and all. So, Cellinia wouldn't let a single soul prevent her from keeping Mai once she's laid her claim, would she? She has no idea that no one in this pitiful world even wants Mai, she doesn't know that her competition is practically nil. And she doesn't know that, even though they loathe her ever so thoroughly, Mai's clan would rather tear her apart themselves than let a beast attempt to cherish her so tenderly. Cellinia doesn't know the jaws of the real monster she'd have to pry Mai from, even once she's marked her truly for her own. It fills Mai to the brim with a twisted delight, a morbid curiosity to see how right she is, and an even more messed up desire to call Cellinia out on her bluff.]
Do it, then-- I'd love to see you try, anyway. But I don't wanna deal with whatever disappointment you feel when you figure out that this is just a losing deal for you.
[This wolf must have more than a few screws loose, if she's chomping at the bit to lay claim to the Zen'in family's trash. The cruel, embittered part of Mai wants to see Cellinia as merely a starved street mutt digging wherever it can for scraps. But there's another part of her, a part that she often wishes she could smother to death but somehow still resurfaces despite her best efforts-- a part of her that imagines her lover as a dutiful hound with a nose for real treasure. Before, she has cast her eyes upon Mai as if she were a thing of value. Mai can never forget that look, she simply can't. Nevertheless, she'll offer a snarky warning, just in case Cellinia needed a little push to retreat from her lofty proposal.]
Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way, like everyone else does.
(of course she wants to correct her, why would she want to make her an honest woman? nothing about cellinia says she'd like the idea of being tied down to some regular housewife. nothing about her even suits the idea. she's every bit the worst nightmare of someone wanting to play at being a proper wife. so what did it matter? she's the girl that's a nightmare of her own in how she carries and handles herself. some even wonder how she's alive. that attitude of hers doesn't do wonders. it's more a miracle whenever someone can get her to take care of herself without her unusual quirks coming into play. that body should be proof enough that cellinia has dealt with more than she'd ever talk about, but the idea of her wanting mai of all people from what little she's gathered of her to be a housewife? dutiful and everything? it seems like she felt something at that assumption.
because that wasn't what her mind considers a mate, her very definition of it differs from the traditional sense of marriage. this isn't something given lightly. wolves do mostly take one mate for life, and this unusual circumstance between them has stirred up something fierce.) Do you really think someone like me would want one of those women who sits pretty and mundane? That I'd expect someone to change for me after you saw how I looked at your age? (now there's a revelation. indeed, that photo and corpselike look to her? she was the same age as mai. she wouldn't be here if that haunting photo said something without the help she received. that look and demeanor she had, like she was dead. supposed to be dead and dreaming of it as time ticked onward. the fact she pulled herself out of it with others helping her....that's a feat in itself. she had someone willing to not give up on her.
it's as if she's got more than what she shows on the surface going on, those thoughts and nightmares of a past long buried and bloody she tries her hardest to pretend isn't there any longer on her heels. which means, cellinia revealed something else in that unexpected confirmation about the photos. another question for her lover to chew on, does that mean she noticed more than those idiots walking the street while they carried on? did it mean she knew a girl felt dead and sullen, more than she'd ever dare to reveal? what was it that cellinia has dealt with, to cause her to notice? answers are harder to come by than more questions about this mystery presented before her little red riding hood.
enough that mai's own mother and father would have surely called for this beast to die had the truth come out. that mai is facing a bona-fide killer of her own kin. patricide isn't a lofty title, and it's something reserved for those willing to commit such a horrible act. she's not the first that's become a lone wolf by wiping out her entire familiga, she wouldn't be the last. especially not for something as horrific a crime as patricide.)
Nor would it be a scar like you're thinking.
(this isn't a bluff, this is serious. locking them both in a game to go with her request to ruin one another. that the wolf means it. she isn't that type to bluff either, one only has to look in those beautiful amber eyes to know. their sharpness, how they seemingly pierce right through anyone so stupid to challenge her. whatever could it mean? to be the lover of a wolf who carries herself the way cellinia does, it means many things. that she felt she desires them to that length. she doesn't deny this as she finds it difficult to not consider the possibility of it happening by first sight. could this be something as warped as a twisted love affair in the making between them? one that could surely end in blood if they were found?
but that's the frightening thing! the stakes would only grow higher, who knows how long before it sets in how much realer this is getting for her wolf. because she isn't retreating, that look in her eyes suggests plenty on that. when she wants something, she chases it. when she desires someone too, she wouldn't give up. that was nothing to her. which brings the bigger and more frightening question, would she stay? would she show her how much of a treasure this woman is by becoming her lover fully, going beyond those lesser women who dared to even try? since cellinia is far more different than them. that air of chivalry aside, everything about her oozes something more than she'd ever reveal to anyone.
past what few bits and pieces she speaks of freely in odd remarks and concerning commentary given about her old life. what even was she before? that's what would never be said. what an oddity her wolf is, a frightening thing when someone gets far enough to almost touch it.)
I only said that it's your win if I do it, if I completely mark you. Somewhere on that pretty skin of yours. Or are you backing out now to retreat at the idea of it happening?
(from the earlier remark, it should be obvious what she thinks of cowards. weak. not even worth her effort, not worth any bit of her gaze on them. nor were they worth her time in general, all they were had been people she killed quickly then left. for those who didn't get away from her in a fight, anyway. anyone else? she would ignore them and go about her day without any words. nothing but cordial while maintaining her distance.
though that also makes it amusing, cellinia would have thought that about mai's very own family. mai was the one who followed her into the wolves den. that means she does think somewhat differently about her, enough to respect her and think she's got more guts than anyone in that damn household. who is crazy enough to follow the big bad wolf into their den, anyway? girls with nothing to lose, just like the wolf herself who's ears twitched into her soft fingers.)
Because here I thought you were ballsy to taunt me, to keep pushing me the way you are like you got nothing to lose. So come on, try and tame me into making you mine fully, Mai.
(once again, her name is purred out that way her lover likes. a challenge, a risky one. who knows what would happen at the end of it....if they're even alive and survive that long. because in their worlds, that's always the risk.)
You know-- anyone worth their salt would kill for a dutiful little wife.
[That is to say, they would be completely disappointed with someone like Mai if they were ever saddled with her in some pointless, lifelong union. Sure, she can know her place for a while, play along with her assigned role until she starts to get cagey and decides to mouth off. And anyone worth their salt would swiftly remind her of what she is and who she belongs to.]
Someone like you, though? I don't know a thing about you, other than that you're a bored little wolf with nothing better to do than snatch up girls to eat.
[And that those wolfish eyes are frighteningly capable of boring into her soul with a devotion that Mai has never seen in any human she's had the misfortune of knowing. Now, though, those same eyes taunt her with the same ruthlessness Mai was so comfortable doling out. How bitter this medicine tastes when forced upon her to swallow, this time. And she loathes it, oh, how annoyingly frustrated it makes her feel to feel the upper hand slipping. She'd rather Cellinia return to looking at her with a misplaced adoration without expecting anything in return-- but it looks like she's caught on to Mai's greedy antics, and is coming to collect.]
But I guess you cleaned up okay, didn't you? If we're talking about people with nothing left to lose, you really had me beat, there.
[That photo is brought to the forefront of her mind again, the misery and emptiness in that Cellinia's eyes making her feel more than just a little bit of empathy. At least Mai has the decency to give a tough front, a snarky and prickly facade, despite her own anguish tethering her to the depths of its void. At least Mai has enough pride to never let the world see her own damning loneliness, let alone allow it to be immortalized in a photo. That Cellinia was no older than Mai and dared not hide how dismal she felt her existence was, even going so far as to keep it as a reminder for any guests to see and judge-- it almost makes Mai feel disgusted on Cellinia's behalf. Almost. She holds her tongue, knowing better than to make any further acidic remarks on a past she has no clue about.
Interesting though, what a far cry from that girl Cellinia is, now. It does beg the question if the wolf became any more well-adjusted after existing as a living corpse. Considering where the two of them find themselves, currently, perhaps the answer to that question is more than a bit complex-- or maybe the answer is simply a resounding 'no.' ]
Funny, though-- earlier you were so adamant about belonging to me, but I don't hear any of that anymore when you're talking about me 'winning' whatever this is. You think I'm the type to back down after I've gotten this far? Don't forget-- I know how to get you right where I want you.
[She hates it, the tone of those words and the insinuation behind them. That Cellinia would look upon her with ridicule should she back off at this point in their morbid little game, rather than with the poisonous worship she's tempted Mai with-- oh, that really fuels this swell of annoyance in her. More than that, though, it makes the desperate and clingy part of her want to meet that challenge with everything she can muster, just so she can steal back that intoxicating adoration and never let it slip through her fingers again. If she has to try and subdue a violent wolf to get her way, she won't shy away with getting a little bloody, herself.]
You can talk tough all you want, Cellinia, but you're not fooling me. When I win, it'll be when I've ruined you. And you'll be so broken in that you're not even gonna be thinking about marking me as a mate.
[She draws out that last word with a mocking lilt to her voice, eyeing Cellinia like this honorable offer of hers means so little to Mai. Show her exactly what being chosen for a mate is worth, pretty wolf. Slash away this troublesome girl's ignorance of what she's falling deeper and deeper into with every second she doesn't back away from Cellinia's risky challenge. Because Mai still has some fight in her, after all, despite every warning and survival instinct begging her to retreat from the beast's lair.]
So, then-- are you in that much of a hurry for me to tame you? Or can I squeeze a few more manners out of you so I can finish my shower?
(because she isn't them, she won't be. what she is, is something else entirely. they're all fortunate that she never did become that dutiful wife her father wanted to be; she never would have survived it for long. not from those raging instincts, the desire for violence. that underlying urge for it. she's a natural-born prodigy of something as frightening as death and dealing it in how she can change her demeanor into being anything but normal. that side of her that she always tries to keep further down away from others. nobody needed to see her like the way she had been before; that wolf who would have taken lives mercilessly. it didn't matter if nobody knew about her being this terrible. not even about the cause of the sickness, the cause of her own tiredness. she's here, she's freed from all of it. or that's what the wolf has often told herself.
which is why she finds it easy to call out others, she knows too well some things. she's proof enough of someone being worse off than she'd care to admit. but that didn't mean those taunting eyes and their ruthlessness didn't have that devotion to them. because she does this exactly due to those confusing feelings. admiration, devotion, and worship of a girl that has never had it once in her life. how much of it does she understand? don't you care to find out and learn now, lover? how she would make your family pay, how she'd while covered in blood kiss you so sweetly? why not the idea of her granting you that freedom she took by force?
there is so much more underneath it, that intoxicating adoration is only the beginning in how serious her gaze is. the sight of her issuing a challenge so fiercely. whatever is this to anyone else? they'd never understand the feelings a beast like her could ever have when met with someone that has suffered anguish that reaches down into her very soul. the agony that she knows all too well when mai speaks about it. about her in those photos again.)
You're right. I had absolutely nothing.
(another bone chilling admission. what did she mean by that? surely someone like her would have had people to rely on, people that cared about her to that point. right? the answer to that won't be mentioned. her sole saving grace came from one concerned beast, and that was that. nobody cared about the sole survivor. she who burned everything in fire then left behind the corpses in blood, in the rain that she smells so thickly of often.
but she says nothing more on it, she won't. what she instead does is reach to take mai's other hand. her own so very rough, so worn and having had taken so many lives. she does this because she won't elaborate, with the way her lips press to the top of it like something half chivalrous, half not. devoted and wild, two halves that would always exist of this wolf. the pretty wolf who would not back down from the promised challenge she gives her lover. she wouldn't just show her, she'd teach her what it means to belong to someone like her.)
I'll ruin you beautifully in kind, Mai. Don't even doubt that for a second.
(no, that tone says this is a promise. another vow, devoted and more than that. she would ruin this goddess beautifully. even as she steps away from pinning her, her hand holding mai's while she pulls her in closely. like she wants to whisper a secret, but the reality is more than that. she wants to touch and be touched in kind. those searing eyes are all hers, the fire that burns in them and everything. nobody has gotten these reactions from the wolf, so perhaps mai can say she's on the right track.)
Then touch me, I'll burn your body in my mind as you do mine for this.
(come on, pretty goddess, she'll make you feel like you belong and more.)
[No, Cellinia isn't like them, but Mai can't tell what exactly she is. She's a mystery that Mai feels more and more compelled to rip open, letting her secrets spill all over the ground so that she can rake through them like a scavenger. And it doesn't really matter if she cuts her fingers on the shards, the blades that lurk in the blood-soaked past trailing behind Cellinia like a hungry shadow. There has to be something that Mai can grab, something that she can keep, something she can wield against this wolf in order to keep her right where she has her.]
Got a little more than 'nothing,' now, though.
[And Mai doesn't just mean herself, caught in the clutches of this wolf deep in her lair. Even though there's an exit in sight, she averts her eyes, only wanting to watch her captor carefully. Mai wants to search her, wants to find where that dead-eyed girl in that picture finally became this ravenous wolf pinning her against the shower. If only she could see where the threads of the past tied in knots with those of the present-- if only she could discern a similar path out of her own grim life. Ah, is that jealousy stirring in her again? This rotten feeling that has her delusional to think that, if she should be the one to sink her teeth into her lover, she might be able to taste the secrets to freedom, herself.
Truthfully, the sticky feeling of jealousy is far better than whatever familiarity arises at Cellinia's icy admission at a depthless existence of emptiness. If this wolf can sniff out even a hint of a similarity within her, it would mortify Mai. Don't look at her, don't look at her like they're the same. For she has so little left-- close to nothing, herself. And she'll be damned if she ends up being pitied by Cellinia for it.
She'd rather be ruined beautifully a million times over than find herself in that position.]
....We'll see about that.
[Of course, Mai doesn't doubt it, no matter how strongly she wants to end up the victor. She can feel it in the heat of the kiss that Cellinia presses to her hand, that this promise is so close to being fulfilled. Mai beholds this display with an impatience that's nearly splintering at the edges. Damn this wolf, pulling her between extremes like this.]
I knew it, though. I knew getting involved with you would give me a headache.
[Humans are a headache, too, but at least they're boring enough for her to dismiss once she's had enough. This wolf has her claws sunk into her but deep, now, and Mai is smart enough to recognize that pulling herself away would mean tearing chunks of her flesh out in the efforts. Not that she even entertains the idea of being that kind of coward-- Cellinia won't get the satisfaction of seeing Mai as the one to retreat with her tail between her legs. No, but she'll give her another manner of satisfaction, something far more mutually beneficial.
This attempt at a shower is a bust, and Mai has given up on the idea of getting properly clean. The water still runs over them, a touch cooler now, though does it really matter when their blood is still running hot from all of their taunting? She lets Cellinia pull her close, their hands still linked, and Mai steels herself again to rise to the challenge posed to her. Bracing her free hand at the back of Cellinia's neck, she brings her in tightly for a deep kiss, practically willing the taste of frustration to be traded between their tongues. Through heavy droplets of water collecting upon her eyelashes, Mai watches Cellinia with a growing exasperation towards those gallant words and those taunting eyes. Then, with an audible smack, she abruptly breaks the kiss.]
...Whatever.
[This annoyed utterance is more towards herself than anything. Her hand squeezes firmly at Cellinia's, fingernails digging slightly into that roughened palm.]
(isn't it always interesting that way? running into someone that knows too well. that past of hers, shrouded in blood and rain would only serve to cut them both deeper. whatever she could grab on to would only be a further cut of thorns to them both, because cellinia avoids it all. they're similar. it's the depressing fact at the end of the day, neither the pretty wolf nor her beautiful goddess considers it. they're the same in some ways from how they've carried themselves even as cellinia found herself with freedom that had been taken by force. killing the parent, the family. she's the one that can get dragged down to hell at any time before this goddess of hers.
there is no pity, she doesn't pity this girl. she only knows as depressing further as the idea is that they're both bound to be doomed. born to die, born to fade away into something that would have ended them. something that should have killed the wolf while she tried to escape that soul crushing hell she once had been part of. she did have a little more than nothing, her eyes are on one person and that understanding is what seems to gnaw at them. they know too well, they would never say it or admit it. the wolf is not going to say it even if she did come to realize this later.
because they both know, saying it out loud would only destroy them further. they've lost more than they'd tell anyone. cellinia almost surely would not tell her lover everything. not about those days when she found herself going through the motions. how long did she dream of dying until those dreams ended? it took a long time, that was the unsaid part. that bone chilling and empty stare had faded as life returned throughout seven years to a woman that had some manner of luck on her side. not good luck, not all the time.
but they didn't need to think about it. her hand is in mai's own, her thoughts are anywhere other than that history she once had been part of. the bloodstained streets and dreary rain that constantly fell on her, on others like it was a constant weeping from the sky about the lives taken.
she didn't need to know about it. while she holds her hand so tenderly, while she pushes forth feelings they both could hardly parse with where they are. it'd be a miracle if they did know what this feeling was, so soon, so fast. they didn't. not the way that cellinia runs her rough fingertips along mai's hand. that same gallant way she has. the game has been set, the challenge made while they're both unwilling to back down from a certain truth. they're only going to fall in too deep. the comment about her being a headache was something she would have snorted at, if cellinia had it in her.
she could say that she felt the same about mai in a way, but doesn't. because they both know it's a mutual fact this time that wouldn't change. cellinia is a headache to deal with, there's a reason why her friends often struggle to tell what she's thinking or feeling. a bigger struggle to know what she's thinking about in particular between her and her pretty goddess. they're impatient.
they're both feeling it even as she gets pulled in. tight, the kiss deep and frustrated, hungering. she almost melts to it before it breaks, the annoyance evident in mai's tone as amber are on hazel. she didn't say it would be that easy. it won't be easy, not on both of them whenever she almost loses herself in those eyes again from their closeness. that is, until she reaches as mai requested with her free hand to turn the water off. the coolness of it did nothing for stopping that heat thrumming in her veins. she's on fire, lit up and craving into being this ravenous beast before mai.
her hand squeezes mai's own in return, the feeling of nails slightly in her palm doesn't deter her much. if anything, roughness has always been something she enjoys, but she isn't the sort to go too far with that. the kind with nails in her back and teeth leaving marks was more than enough for this big bad wolf. little red riding hood doesn't need to fear that much whenever she opens the door for her lover.)
My room, then.
(the secret of it might not ever be obtained this early, but that didn't mean she was against the idea of her lover taking what freedom she's given greedily. doesn't she deserve that, too? freedom. the taste of it, the need of it. all at her fingertips and they both hadn't known that themselves. their story could end in blood spilled and them disappearing, or in them quietly fading like a real pair of lovers on the run from what awaits.
cellinia for her part is dutiful and minding her "manners" again. she's curious, anyway. what is mai planning to do in her bedroom when she gets the wolf beneath her and that body the goddess considers perfect? is she going to mark her more as her canvas?
[It has long been an established fact that hell will likely claim them both. Cellinia can be dragged down for the sins she willingly committed against her family, whereas Mai will find herself cast in for the sins that cling to her very DNA. In the eyes of her family, she may as well have disgraced them consciously-- and in the end, she's doing that now, no? Shirking the responsibilities foisted upon her, doing less than the bare minimum, holding her family back yet again with her idleness. Well-- holding each other back is supposed to be a virtue in this country, isn't it?
And here she is, acting like the least virtuous girl of them all. Though, maybe there's something to be said about the way she clings to an affection that will surely slice her heart open viciously, one day. Maybe there is something pure about it, a sliver of purity that lurks beneath layers of bitterness that would only desire to smother the virtue of this twisted pursuit. Could this tiniest of fragments be enough to salvage her soul from being cast into hell? Or perhaps one day, she might see her wolf in the devil's clutches and decide that she would rather embrace her rightful place in the flames than to never taste another drop of that devotion.
It's another thought for another day, one far, far in the future-- provided she makes it through today in one piece. Luck might have been on her side at the commencement of their meeting, but now the playing field has leveled enough that Mai feels the shift of it beneath her feet. Annoying, the real headache of it all. Mai is plenty aware that she is no better, a veritable headache all her own, but that beloved trait of hers hardly affords her the upper hand here, not with the way Cellinia opens the shower door for her, once more falling into the role of the well-mannered lover. Before, she had cornered Mai against the glass, and now she permits her to leave, facilitates her departure for a more promising (and hopefully more successful) endeavor. It certainly feels like she's at the beast's mercy, but like the petulant girl that Mai is, she won't be satisfied until the pendulum swings back in her favor.]
Yeah, yeah. I know where it is.
[Her hand still latched onto Cellinia's, Mai steps out from the confines of the shower with her wolf in tow. Tepid water begins to pool immediately on the tiled ground where her footsteps fall. Someone else's problem, not hers-- she's not the one who needs to mind her manners right now. Let her trail water all the way to bed, it'll be forgotten quickly once she resumes her little warpath. On her way out of the bathroom, Mai catches one last glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair frames her face in wet strands from which droplets still fall, and her cheeks are slightly flushed from the temperature. Her expression is far more impatient than before-- but she can still recognize herself. Better not lose, she commands her reflection. Because once this game and this challenge reach their conclusion, Mai doesn't want to recognize herself. She wants to see herself the victor, for once. And Cellinia, well... she doesn't want to recognize her, either, but for a completely different reason.
Reaching the bedroom, Mai loosens her fingers and pulls her hand away entirely, immediately taking a seat at the edge of the bed and looking up at Cellinia still standing only feet away from her. The dampness of her skin finds a new home in the bedsheets beneath her, but something about the odd discomfort of it only heightens the excitement at getting to prove her mettle against a wolf ruled by her enigmatic duality.]
Well? Waiting for an invitation? Come here, then...
[But as soon as the words leave her lips, Mai clamps her mouth shut and a thoughtful look graces her features before she speaks to correct her own suggestion.]
No, wait-- I think I'll be nice and make that little wish of yours come true, Cellinia. I'll even let you thank me when i'm done.
[Whatever does she mean...? She nestles her chin in her open palm and eyes Cellinia cooly as if she knows she's about to utter something rather bold without paying any mind to the impropriety of it all.]
Go and grab me something to tie you to the bedframe with. I don't need you getting any funny ideas and losing your cool on me again.
[There-- some of the mystery is dispelled now, isn't it? Sometimes, being plain about her intentions will earn Mai her way more swiftly than dancing around them. Let's see how quick to obey her pretty wolf still is... ]
(they'll both see one another in hell, won't they? both having had made their choices, deeper down shall they go. not even the devil would part them as they fall to their doom, their lives intertwined while nobody would part them again now that the missing part of themselves was found. cellinia doesn't misbehave again, not from their departure from the bathroom and not even from her noticing her lover's impatience. she did taunt her. she even made it clear that she's still every bit a wolf with or without those manners. this was her challenge offered, it's only fitting that she didn't hold back that she would do more than only want to be ruined. she wants to ruin her too. giving her a heart that has been mishandled so often when that time comes, if ever, in their lives to share it.
but she isn't that capable of it, not the way she would have been in her youth. it's a miracle that the wolf could even give so much of herself now, in bed with a stranger who she had taken that chance with for a change. she doesn't argue, she doesn't fight any further. mercy is there, it even exists within her while her curiosities remain. she could recognize that mai is on the warpath about her interruptions and taunts, their back and forth which had sparked more than a game between a pair of girls who were far too similar. similar enough they'd never admit it. not to anyone more than themselves when it crept in that there was more to them and their meeting than they'd ever know at the time. what mai receives is devotion, the taste of it and the desire to grant it to her.
the water dripping to the floor is something that can be ignored, all along the wooden floors and across from the bathroom. her tail drips the brunt of it, so does that lengthy hair of black and red. cellinia doesn't say a word else, she follows hand-in-hand. her mind is elsewhere, just like her attention is on this girl. watching her every movement and memorizing it. from her steps to how mai's hand felt in her own while she stays near to her goddess.
whenever mai took a seat, she was about ready to get on her knees for her lover again, to be that dutiful wolf until she taunted her so prettily into that ravenous beast she could be. that is, until she had other ideas. cellinia was silent, curious on what was about to be said after being told she could even thank this little red riding hood when she's done. the question is on her tongue, but then mai clarifies. her remark in the shower about tying her down to be at her lover's mercy? that's the least surprising thing of this day from what the wolf thinks about it.
since she did mention it (and really, it was cellinia's idea) so casually, it almost causes her to wonder more what sort of merciless touch her little red riding hood has in mind. there's a pause, but she's checking her night stand. back to her lover again while she sits on the other side of the mattress. close enough to be touched, to be grabbed again if her guard was dropped. maybe it might be, now that's an amusing thought for what is drifting into evening between them.
the glimmers of the sunsetting matches those pretty eyes of her wolf's own when after some shuffling around she takes out what looks to be a red tie. one of the ones she hadn't used yet for her suits, brand new and looking tempting to bind her wrists with. no handcuff surprises, as amusing as the thought is of someone like cellinia carrying handcuffs would be. she didn't seem the type for anything they're doing, that they're indulging in.
some might have even been thrown for a loop after knowing her, though that's what makes it interesting. that she can have more to what once had been a woman expecting her death to come any time, any place and dreaming about it. she doesn't argue, not about her suggestion from earlier when that red tie is held out to her lover. this is playing a game against a predator, isn't it? they know when to strike and when to wait. that doesn't mean cellinia is foolish enough to be impatient more than earlier and hastier than how she acted.)
Will this do, then?
(it's not like her room has a lot to be used for this, for sinful indulgences and lover's spending time in bed with her. she's got more than this one tucked away in that drawer, those beautiful eyes are looking at mai in all the right ways again. despite that lurking beast beneath them, she's captivated and drawn in. could this ever be a good idea to have a wolf solely as hers, one like cellinia who may tear to pieces anyone that pushes their luck too far?
or is it only fitting? the way they'd tear one another in a more figurative sense to pieces, how they'd drag one another through that fire called their lives. the more hellish side being mai's while cellinia's own hell had faded to nothing aside from ash and burnout embers.
unsurprisingly, the radio plays in the background. nothing too discernable yet, but she did reach with the remote to turn it up. if only to give them a cover while not allowing her poor neighbors to come over disturbed by the loud sounds of music in the background. the song itself seems to be almost over before it begins the next act of their twisted affections and everything that would blossom eventually into a love that might never stop haunting both wolf and little red riding hood.)
[Wonderful-- it seems like her darling wolf is in an agreeable enough mood to go along with her request. Or demand, rather, from the way Mai's expression leaves no room for discussion. It doesn't escape the girl's attention, though, the flash of curiosity in those lovely eyes before Cellinia wordlessly saunters over to her nightstand to rummage around for something suitable. Wondering what exactly Mai has in store for you, are you, little wolf? Oh, what manner of ruin can she wreak upon your body once she has your hands tied up and away from being of any sort of use? That remains to be seen-- but worry not, the wait shouldn't be terribly long. Unless Mai is feeling a deeper sense of mischief than she's already entertaining.
As it is, her imagination is plenty occupied with the different ways she plans on touching and teasing Cellinia once she has her tightly secured. What would her lover enjoy most-- and what would make her crumble so thoroughly for her precious goddess? Something tells Mai that there may be some overlap between the two.
Her first order of business, of course, will be completing her work upon that perfect canvas, marking Cellinia up anywhere there's a blank space begging for her teeth to sink in and her lips to suckle firmly. Hazel eyes trail eagerly over her lover's body bathed in the warmth of the golden hour sifting in from a partially shuttered window. A devastating beauty, really, even with the dark ink running across her back and arms, decorating her skin dangerously with images of ferocity and nature's splendor.
Away from Cellinia's immediate attention, now it's Mai's turn to eye her curiously. She's never before laid her eyes upon a woman who styled herself like some sort of yakuza kingpin-- strange, Mai never got the impression that the delivery service she was utilizing was mob-affiliated. It would be just Mai's luck, wouldn't it, to get herself caught up in something perilous while chasing some self-satisfaction? Yet, in an odd way, it doesn't truly frighten Mai as it ought to if she were anyone normal, a girl who wasn't born into a rather merciless family of her own. And Mai is used to their cold and unfeeling eyes whenever they find themselves upon her, is used to shouldering whatever cruelties and insults they see fit to bestow upon her just for existing. Cellinia doesn't scare her in this respect-- if only because she's treated Mai with a tenderness that doesn't match up to her tough exterior.
Well, Cellinia's mysteries pile up more and more, don't they? The vicious eyes of the wolf tattooed upon her back is at odds with the calm expression she wears while she draws out a handful of something red from the nightstand. A tie, it seems, of quality fabric that should be able to withstand some tension from what they're about to get up to.]
It'll work. Better than nothing.
[Some snarky remark is smothered before it rolls off her tongue-- something about how she was honestly surprised that Cellinia didn't have a leash hanging around here somewhere that would do the trick just as well. It's not that she is purposefully treading lightly, but it would be a pain if she provoked any annoyance once more in the wolf before she had her tied down and unable to act on said annoyance.
Accepting the tie held out to her, Mai runs her fingers over the smooth fabric and smiles softly to herself. What manner of predator offers herself to be captured so readily? Her wolf is a rare thing, isn't she? Wearing the appearance of someone who would gladly dine on savagery, while once more beholding her with those eyes-- the ones that Mai can't help but desire all the more strongly. As soon as she gets her way, they won't be able to look anywhere else but at Mai while she makes good on her promise.
She waits for Cellinia to set down the remote to her radio before taking her hand and pulling her atop the bed, her eyes rather mirthful once the sounds of music fill the otherwise quiet bedroom more loudly than earlier.]
Ha, don't tell me you're shy now. I thought you liked showing off a little.
[It's fine, Mai will hardly object despite the teasing she doles out. There's no shortage of amusement that she feels about it, though-- that Cellinia would want to be considerate of either the neighbors or the two of them is but another facet of her that goes at odds with her dangerous appearance. Has Mai lucked out-- or has she simply grown accustomed to this peculiar headache?
Perhaps the answer to that line of questioning doesn't truly matter all that much, with how Mai presses a hand against Cellinia's chest to urge her down atop the bed. She's committed, after all, to seeing this through to the end, wherever the end might have her. The little smirk on her lips makes it obvious that her greatest ally for this next act will be her fearlessness.]
Be good for me, Cellinia.
[And then Mai straddles her, gathering her wrists in her hands and beginning to wind the blood-red fabric around them before weaving it through the openings in the bed frame. She makes as many passes as the length of the tie permits, finishing her work with a couple of sturdy knots. Not bad, but nothing a bit more practice can't fix.]
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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.]
no subject
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....)
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.]
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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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Date: 2025-03-22 04:46 pm (UTC)which comes as no surprise, her claws scratch the tiles at the light taunts mixed with gratitude. scratches against the surface of them, any deeper, and they'd near break the damn things in an afterthought on what could come from that kind of reaction. that's that issue of going for something teetering often between civilized and uncivilized. all it takes is something to press into buried down instincts, buried down everything. cellinia so happens to have worse than some might have ever expected. not just her instincts, but her everything. the violence that she abandoned, the need for that rush of adrenaline she could get from doing something terrible. something as terrible as her speeding, her fights, the nights she went out to clubs at the behest of friends. each too willing to drag her out, some even concerned about the sight of her after she drinks.
but she's not drunk, she's not even sure what she is. that lonely void is large and never-ending. this storm within her, threatening at the eye of it in every means that it had. cellinia's eyes seem to keep that fire, that searing desperation. that something else within them from the stirring of more bestial instincts as mai's lips press against her cheek. she asked for this, she wanted this. she wanted to be ruined thoroughly, she wants to equally ruin in kind by whatever means she could. in that pretty mouth, in those claws of hers that she refrains from using more than her teeth. a funny thought, something like her can force herself into not raking lines into pale skin that could have stung something fierce and beautifully as extras to the teeth she left.
that praise isn't lost on her, that way she said it even with the way it drips sarcasm and how satisfied this girl must be. at the idea that she could have her like this, the lonesome beast who growls when mai's hand stops. when that taunt leaves her lips, the sight of her pleased with herself while cellinia stills herself. that throbbing ache is painful, she's been losing her mind the more this goes on. slow torture. a lot of slow torture and that feeling of her lover's hand running along her toned stomach. she almost swore she caught a familiar scent, a scent of need of her lover's own.
that tortured look, it becomes something else. tortured, ravenous, and maybe too hungry for anyone sane. anyone would know, they shouldn't try to reason with a wolf. they shouldn't even try to touch a wolf this way without some manner of expectations that it'd get bad for them when mixed with taunts. this could even be another way of ruin, another to set her on the path. it doesn't take her much, it doesn't to get her to react and shift their positions. with mai against the glass instead of the tiles. oh, that look in her eyes must be positively delicious. that snarl, that way she isn't talking.
something teetering feral, something less than gentle in how she responded. isn't it beautiful? this is a beast. this is what they're often warned about, and all of this wolf is for this goddess and her tender cruelty. that poisonous desire she offers the beast, her wolf. her beautiful wolf that she wants to decorate the body of. make a claim of her own about, the toned muscle and how she presses them firmly to the glass beneath the warm water. it didn't feel like it was cleaning them, it only felt as though it's adding more to this now raging fire that's started to thrum in her veins.)
Didn't I say that I want to ruin you too, Mai?
(how it rumbles out of her throat lowly, her lover's name. something violent, something like a purr in those growls. their fathers would surely hate this more. that mai could stir something so "uncivilized" in this golden child. in a snarl of teeth and their bodies. is this what her goddess wanted to see? that wild part of her stirring for her pleasure? this twisted affection a beast could only have when it comes to their lover's and those they want to make theirs?
because she has indeed earned this sight. from that beautiful and searing look of wildness in her amber eyes to everything about it.)
I want to ruin you too.
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Date: 2025-03-22 09:59 pm (UTC)After all, she knows perfectly well that she has a veritable beast at her fingertips. Mai knew the moment Cellinia complained about that oaf confusing a wolf for a cursed spirit, and those sneaky wheels in her head really began to turn once she got that first picture. Honestly, Cellinia, what is all of this but your own consequences for piquing the interest of one very bored and very lonely girl? She very well could have been a professional courier and let Mai's flirtations die off without a response, but look at her, now-- trapped under Mai's hot gaze, tortured by her soft fingers, riled up more and more by her teasing remarks. Here she is, offering this girl the sweetest of phrases, such gallant promises, all while Mai chews them up greedily as fuel for her own merciless endeavors to make her noble little wolf crumble completely for her.
Oh--! But when she feels herself pushed away from her very comfortable place behind Cellinia and now pressed firmly against the glass of the shower, Mai can plainly see that her ruinous path is cut short. What was the last straw, she wonders with a smug look on her face. Was she doing too good of a job at delivering her the devastation she was asking for? She doesn't regret it, not a single bit, that she might have taken it a step too far with ceasing her touch right as Cellinia was so close to coming undone for her. Too bad-- for Cellinia. Mai's fingers miss her already... ]
Mm. I might remember you saying that.
[Goodness, the way she snarls her name really does something to Mai, doesn't it? It makes her feel like she's on fire, the heat blazing in the pit of her stomach raring to lick its way up until it engulfs her very heart. She likes it quite a bit, even more than those pretty foreign pet names that she's still mostly in the dark about. But nothing sounds better than hearing her own name uttered in a way that promises something at once dangerous and delightful. And she won't ask her to say it again, not yet-- perhaps once they're in bed and Mai has the upper hand again-- but it's already burned itself into her mind. Before today, her name might as well have been synonymous with disgrace, disappointment, and annoyance. When had anyone ever said her name like this? Ah, well, she has no desire to find out if anyone else could ever utter it in the same way.]
But I wasn't finished with you, yet. You're really just gonna barge in and take over?
[And it is a sight that so thoroughly delights Mai, witnessing an untamed fire of Cellinia's own, blazing in the heat of her stare. Maybe it isn't so terrible, losing her chance to keep edging and torturing her darling wolf. But, Mai's hands are so empty now, and lonely for more of Cellinia's body after having the opportunity yanked away so rudely. They find their place at her hips, gripping into the flesh with a marked harshness that will undoubtedly leave deep red crescents from her nails.
The two of them look so splendid beneath the stream from the shower, with water collecting heavily at their hair and spilling down their faces in glimmering rivulets. No, it certainly isn't doing much to clean them when they're this committed to messing one another up even more. Nor does it even bother to quench the passionate fire already in the throes of suffocating them entirely. Maybe this entire shower adventure was a terrible idea... But the way Cellinia's wet body feels against Mai's does enough to outright reject that train of thought.]
I liked you better when you had manners, Cellinia. Guess I'll just have to be a little meaner to you whenever you're done trying to ruin me, huh?
[Did Cellinia think she could frighten Mai into submission like this? She should have known from the beginning that any girl who willingly follows a wolf into its lair is a terror all her own.]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-22 10:41 pm (UTC)she could have been professional, but everything was tempting. the way she twisted into her and pressed her buttons. how mai even promised things herself. that had no denial in the way she ignored professionalism. cellinia could only blame herself more for this. the way they're both in some ways at fault for the mistakes they're making together; the lines raked into her hips feels too good. when was the last time someone got a bit rougher with her? someone that wasn't obsessed with her and wanting to kill her at the same time as being in love with her for a morbid lover's suicide. both dying by one anothers hand.
she growls again, ah, mai might find it hotter of her. she might even want more of it. how she growls, how she responds to the nails digging into her hips like it's among pleasures she rarely gets. she misses her fingers too, how they felt torturing her so thoroughly. her manners coming up causes the wolf to snarl again. teeth shown to her lover with her own hands not as freed in how they press to the glass beside mai. they can wind up in her bed if they wanted to, but both sides are far too stubborn and lit on fire in other means to think about it.
or to care much about the idea of soggy sheets, the two of them wet and tangled, while mai takes that opportunity to do whatever else she's thinking about doing to her. she really should have held back more, but cellinia finds that even difficult when it comes to her lover already.)
I do have manners, Mai, but even I can get impatient. Or are you going to tie my hands together after while you torture me so sweetly more?
(there it is again, the way her name rumbles out of her mouth. like something fierce. something feral, she likes this about her. the way she's a terror and pushes her further. she wouldn't be doing this if she disliked it. it's obvious. she's got the full attention of a wolf and how she's hungry, how that tongue of hers licks her chops as warm water curtains them and soaks them. this is only fueling that need for sins of their own. she wants to be haunted, she wants to be ruined. cellinia even wants to drag her down with her. her darling wolf is so easy to torture, so easy to press into her own desire for whatever path they're after. they're a mess. internally and outwardly. a mess in how they shouldn't be doing this.
yet here they are with the wolf, looking almost as if mai could tip her over however she pleases. coming undone all for her, like the wild animal she is or beneath her as her lover takes control from her thoroughly.)
That sweet cruelty of yours, I can't get enough of it while you keep pushing it further and further. Don't you hold back on me, I won't on you too, Mai.
(if she demands more, cellinia would give it. if she wants to see her let loose, wildly and free then she will. her lips soon find themselves pressed to mai's. there's a roughness to the kiss, not too rough and not too gentle. a balance to that harshness. she doesn't want to not respond in kind to that cruelty, by giving her something exciting to go with it. she did provoke her and that smug face....ah, she loves that too much, too.)
That face of yours, like you think you won....come on, give me more of it. I want to see it when you take more of me as being yours.
(somewhere her father is turning in his grave more, and maybe her grandfather is. how the mighty have fallen, truly. the pride and joy of one family must have lost her mind to go that far. although, maybe less her grandfather turning over the idea. that man has always been accepting of her and her choices.)
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Date: 2025-03-23 11:40 pm (UTC)[There she goes again, pushing Cellinia's buttons with a false pivot into affection. The hands at her hips digging even more tightly betray whatever sweetness dances upon her words and lurks within her smile. Still, Mai isn't lying-- she's the type to get her kicks far too often from dragging another to the point of frustration. A shame that it's a wickedness that was never properly disciplined out of her, though maybe the bigger shame is that whatever survival instinct that should warn her against taunting wild beasts is overridden by this wicked streak. Cellinia can bare her teeth in those attractive growls that Mai draws from her in that impatience, she can even cage Mai in against the glass, her eyes flashing wildly while her tongue licks her lips with a palpable danger. The fear is there, after all, though far from the proper kind that would have Mai running away as fast as her human body can take her. Rather, it's a messed up kind of adrenaline rush that keeps her wanting to play the delectable prey offering herself up to the beast's mouth only to snatch herself back and start the chase all over again.
Cellinia's appealing offer to stop her from using her hands causes Mai to giggle mirthfully. It's appealing, isn't it? The manner in which the wolf gives herself up to be restrained, all the while Mai can still use her hands however she pleases. Like now, as she slowly, slowly rakes her fingers up from Cellinia's hips, up her sides, savoring how her nails scrape against the wet flesh at her mercy. Silly little wolf-- don't you see that Mai is the one who needs her hands tied? Or maybe she understands it all too well, and is surrendering even deeper to those sweet cruelties that she's oh so addicted to... ]
Careful, now-- asking me to tie you up. What if I forget to let you go? Poor thing, you might even starve to death unless I remember to come back for you.
[And then Mai thinks on it-- and her train of thought is all too obvious on her face. She wears a look that all but says that maybe she should do it, tie Cellinia up and really, really ruin her. Could she do it? Could she bring this proud, dangerous wolf to a place she can't return from? Mai was almost fooled into thinking that they had reached that point several times up until this moment-- but now, staring back into the lustful eyes of the woman before her, she catches a sliver of light behind a door she wasn't aware of before. And now, there's a budding fear she is almost hesitant to entertain. What then, should her wolf break free? Perhaps she would hunt Mai down, blind to everything but the revenge of pleasure she would enact in return upon this foolish human. It would be a promise fulfilled, one that would drag them both to an inescapable ruin. How delightful.
Mai isn't caught off guard entirely by Cellinia's insistence on a kiss, and from the moment their lips meet, she can feel the aching impatience that compels her wolf to seek her kiss out once again. It tastes different from their earlier passions, insatiable in a more ruinous way, tempered by a yearning that doesn't draw its strength from a lover's kindness. It tastes like Cellinia is nearing her breaking point, and when Mai realizes this, she laughs into their kiss, pulling back to let her amusement really spill free.]
'Think' I've won? You're funny-- I know I've won. Just look at you, trying so hard to be tough with me, when you just can't help but beg for me to domesticate you in the same breath.
[She sneers with more than a touch of derision, freeing one hand to grasp at Cellinia's hair and pull her back, keeping her from satiating her need for another kiss. She can tell that her wolf wants more so badly. What better way to discipline her than deprive her of such a treat?]
You know-- I don't have to do anything more than this, do I? Because it looks like you're already mine, and all I had to do was touch and kiss you a little. Are all wolves as easy as you are, Cellinia? Or did I just luck out with the most desperate pup of the litter?
[And she laughs again, almost drunk with the power she thinks she has over Cellinia right now. The hand at her head brings her closer, closer, almost close enough for another kiss-- but instead Mai darts her tongue out to run against Cellinia's lips in a merciless taunt.]
Oh, I think I did...
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Date: 2025-03-24 02:41 am (UTC)(how blunt of her, but she isn't wrong. nobody has said this to her. there are no mentions of deaths at her hands, though it's obvious by looking at her now, isn't it? she's got that look to her. that air to her that says this wolf has taken lives, plenty of lives. her tone shows plenty on what she thinks of those foolish enough to bite off more than they could chew and then turning tail to run, the bite to it. the growl blanketing those words. how many have tried to keep up with her, how many have failed? are they even alive? that's the answers that nobody knows. answers that cellinia would never give out to anyone. only one person has done more than her fair share to this wolf, she isn't here. she would have been laughing loudly at their back and forth like it were entertainment to her. because that twisted silver wolf and her blackened heart knows this one too well; she knows her to the point she'd even mention everything all casual.
like a game to her. twisting, untwisting, unraveling and reveling in it. she'd tell stories that would make girls like mai half delight or half fear the depth of misery in all of them. she'd find it amusing. watching the way they twist, their similarities like something special while taunting that mai could never understand cellinia the way she does. but that woman has yet to show again her face. the twisted smile and her blackened desires of taking what she deemed rightfully as hers. she would never tell mai about her, not about their history. how it threatens to take her by the throat and drag her down.
another snarl, the bearing of those teeth. the moment her head is pulled back away by her hair from their kiss, the growling is louder. a rather frightening purr. something that threatens to ruin them both the more she's pressed into. the wolf is such an unusual girl, isn't she? her wolf who has those little thoughts and desires, her wolf who wants so badly to mark her proper as her mate. this fast, this soon. what a mess she is with those thoughts and her own desires. to want these sweet cruelties and more done to her. this twisted affection they're both sharing and indulging in together. what a beast, what a shame of a parentage that had done so much for cellinia. she should be the one being the responsible adult, and here she is, with her little red riding hood and goddess not doing any of that.
ignoring responsibility, ignoring all reason to bare those teeth. like she's so badly wanting to latch down somewhere more noticeable and mark this woman more than she knew. what better way to lure it out of her?) You haven't won until I make you mine fully, until I make you my proper mate. (which is true, even as cellinia hisses it out. she hadn't told mai about that and what it means to be her mate. wolves do mostly take one lover and one alone. lappland had been after that from her, but she never could obtain it from cellinia.)
Or is that going to be what you're after? My teeth in you, giving you that pretty mark of teeth deep in your neck and claiming you fully as mine?
(doesn't it sound lovely for their twisted affections? mai would get to be claimed solely by a ravenous beast who would make her family suffer for daring touch her. is that what she could ever dream of? a gallant beast, wild and willing to tear them to pieces for her? the girl bringing this rain down as she touches her, begs so sweetly for her to touch her?
she's not arguing that she can sound desperate, she knows she is. deep down isn't she a mess? they're both seemingly far off from how they wish to be seen. cellinia who tries to be anything but what she once was, mai who avoids others seeing the way she gets treated. which is why cellinia meets that sneer, that sneer with another growl. the echoes of it loud along the walls when mixed in with that expression that lit up at the idea of genuinely tying her down.)
If you want that, I wouldn't let go of you. Not even for a second, the minute I do bite you that way while I touch you....nobody would stop me from having you.
(not even the zen'in, who would surely be displeased that mai had been taken by a wild animal. a mutt. though she's far better than those fucked up excuses of misery and abuse in people. too willing to drag down others.
too willing to chain them forever to one spot while laughing.)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-24 11:06 am (UTC)But, so what if her wolf has enjoyed a bit of blood on those beautifully dangerous teeth of hers? That simply means that whoever dared to challenge Cellinia ended up falling short of what was necessary to fell a beast. They deserve those insults, truly. Though Mai's lover sports a map of scars along her body, what else are they but proof that it takes far more than blades or bullets to keep her down for long? 'Pathetic weaklings,' indeed. Mai has already uncovered the proper way to bring the big bad wolf to her knees, and it isn't with conventional weapons-- amusingly enough, though, Mai's own revolver got to enjoy a bit of action without sparing a single round on its target. Not even Mai herself needed to use whatever scraps of cursed energy she would normally cobble together to claim a triumph.
If only her family could see her, now, but they'd almost certainly recoil in disgust at the scene playing out right here. She can see it clearly-- her mother would hide her face in shame, while her father would rage like a ruthless inferno at his useless daughter teetering on the edge of letting some mangy dog mark its territory on his property. It's hilarious, all of it, from this horrid fantasy of her parents, to the solemn declaration Cellinia makes to fulfill her promise to make Mai hers, that monstrous father of hers be damned.
And so, Mai allows herself to dissolve into a fit of laughter, sharp and incredulous and not directed at any one particular person.]
Mate? Seriously, Cellinia-- you didn't really lure me back to your place so you could try to make me your little wife, did you?
[Just uttering those words herself makes Mai laugh even more-- a truly dangerous feat in the face of a snarling wolf with the last vestiges of self-control fraying in real-time right in front of her.
Mate, wife-- it all means the same thing to Mai, who lived her entire life watching the women in her clan be reduced to nothing more than bedmates and broodmares for their cruel-hearted husbands. She had banked on it being her own future, one day. Surely there was someone out there willing to overlook her lack of talent-- lack of worth, really-- in hopes of marrying a close relation of the clan's head. All anyone really needed was her pretty face and attractive figure. Perhaps her offspring might redeem her, some day. Goodness knows that the same could hardly be said for her own mother. But Cellinia's offer-- or is it a threat?-- truly throws Mai for a loop, for she can't fathom what a she-wolf would want with a human girl for a 'proper mate'. This confusion only serves as fuel for her amusement, and by now, Mai's grip at Cellinia's hair and body loosen even more in her snickering.]
Oh, don't tell me-- you're trying to make an honest woman out of me, now, after screwing me in the back of your car. How noble of you.
[Because if that was all it takes to become promised to someone, be it a wolf or a human, then Mai would have been tied to far lesser mates who dared to enjoy her body on a whim. But in the end, not even they ever bothered to claim her-- she was too far beneath them, when all was said and done, after all. And yet, here Cellinia was, knowing far less about Mai (and her many drawbacks) than any of them, and pledging more to Mai than anyone in this entire world would deign to do. She ought to say no, she ought to laugh in her face and shove her away for playing around with her feelings like this. And yet... the hand tangled in Cellinia's hair merely moves to pet her sharp, drenched ears, a tiny gesture of affection in the face of her caustic tongue.]
And that's how I 'win,' huh? With a scar on my neck and a promise from you to never let me go?
[While Mai's tone sounds cynical, and that sneer on her face only feeding the incredulity at what Cellinia proposes, her eyes are alight with an unmistakable glee. There it is again-- her gallant wolf, trying to play the white knight who would wish to claim her, faults and all. So, Cellinia wouldn't let a single soul prevent her from keeping Mai once she's laid her claim, would she? She has no idea that no one in this pitiful world even wants Mai, she doesn't know that her competition is practically nil. And she doesn't know that, even though they loathe her ever so thoroughly, Mai's clan would rather tear her apart themselves than let a beast attempt to cherish her so tenderly. Cellinia doesn't know the jaws of the real monster she'd have to pry Mai from, even once she's marked her truly for her own. It fills Mai to the brim with a twisted delight, a morbid curiosity to see how right she is, and an even more messed up desire to call Cellinia out on her bluff.]
Do it, then-- I'd love to see you try, anyway. But I don't wanna deal with whatever disappointment you feel when you figure out that this is just a losing deal for you.
[This wolf must have more than a few screws loose, if she's chomping at the bit to lay claim to the Zen'in family's trash. The cruel, embittered part of Mai wants to see Cellinia as merely a starved street mutt digging wherever it can for scraps. But there's another part of her, a part that she often wishes she could smother to death but somehow still resurfaces despite her best efforts-- a part of her that imagines her lover as a dutiful hound with a nose for real treasure. Before, she has cast her eyes upon Mai as if she were a thing of value. Mai can never forget that look, she simply can't. Nevertheless, she'll offer a snarky warning, just in case Cellinia needed a little push to retreat from her lofty proposal.]
Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way, like everyone else does.
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Date: 2025-03-24 07:54 pm (UTC)because that wasn't what her mind considers a mate, her very definition of it differs from the traditional sense of marriage. this isn't something given lightly. wolves do mostly take one mate for life, and this unusual circumstance between them has stirred up something fierce.) Do you really think someone like me would want one of those women who sits pretty and mundane? That I'd expect someone to change for me after you saw how I looked at your age? (now there's a revelation. indeed, that photo and corpselike look to her? she was the same age as mai. she wouldn't be here if that haunting photo said something without the help she received. that look and demeanor she had, like she was dead. supposed to be dead and dreaming of it as time ticked onward. the fact she pulled herself out of it with others helping her....that's a feat in itself. she had someone willing to not give up on her.
it's as if she's got more than what she shows on the surface going on, those thoughts and nightmares of a past long buried and bloody she tries her hardest to pretend isn't there any longer on her heels. which means, cellinia revealed something else in that unexpected confirmation about the photos. another question for her lover to chew on, does that mean she noticed more than those idiots walking the street while they carried on? did it mean she knew a girl felt dead and sullen, more than she'd ever dare to reveal? what was it that cellinia has dealt with, to cause her to notice? answers are harder to come by than more questions about this mystery presented before her little red riding hood.
enough that mai's own mother and father would have surely called for this beast to die had the truth come out. that mai is facing a bona-fide killer of her own kin. patricide isn't a lofty title, and it's something reserved for those willing to commit such a horrible act. she's not the first that's become a lone wolf by wiping out her entire familiga, she wouldn't be the last. especially not for something as horrific a crime as patricide.)
Nor would it be a scar like you're thinking.
(this isn't a bluff, this is serious. locking them both in a game to go with her request to ruin one another. that the wolf means it. she isn't that type to bluff either, one only has to look in those beautiful amber eyes to know. their sharpness, how they seemingly pierce right through anyone so stupid to challenge her. whatever could it mean? to be the lover of a wolf who carries herself the way cellinia does, it means many things. that she felt she desires them to that length. she doesn't deny this as she finds it difficult to not consider the possibility of it happening by first sight. could this be something as warped as a twisted love affair in the making between them? one that could surely end in blood if they were found?
but that's the frightening thing! the stakes would only grow higher, who knows how long before it sets in how much realer this is getting for her wolf. because she isn't retreating, that look in her eyes suggests plenty on that. when she wants something, she chases it. when she desires someone too, she wouldn't give up. that was nothing to her. which brings the bigger and more frightening question, would she stay? would she show her how much of a treasure this woman is by becoming her lover fully, going beyond those lesser women who dared to even try? since cellinia is far more different than them. that air of chivalry aside, everything about her oozes something more than she'd ever reveal to anyone.
past what few bits and pieces she speaks of freely in odd remarks and concerning commentary given about her old life. what even was she before? that's what would never be said. what an oddity her wolf is, a frightening thing when someone gets far enough to almost touch it.)
I only said that it's your win if I do it, if I completely mark you. Somewhere on that pretty skin of yours. Or are you backing out now to retreat at the idea of it happening?
(from the earlier remark, it should be obvious what she thinks of cowards. weak. not even worth her effort, not worth any bit of her gaze on them. nor were they worth her time in general, all they were had been people she killed quickly then left. for those who didn't get away from her in a fight, anyway. anyone else? she would ignore them and go about her day without any words. nothing but cordial while maintaining her distance.
though that also makes it amusing, cellinia would have thought that about mai's very own family. mai was the one who followed her into the wolves den. that means she does think somewhat differently about her, enough to respect her and think she's got more guts than anyone in that damn household. who is crazy enough to follow the big bad wolf into their den, anyway? girls with nothing to lose, just like the wolf herself who's ears twitched into her soft fingers.)
Because here I thought you were ballsy to taunt me, to keep pushing me the way you are like you got nothing to lose. So come on, try and tame me into making you mine fully, Mai.
(once again, her name is purred out that way her lover likes. a challenge, a risky one. who knows what would happen at the end of it....if they're even alive and survive that long. because in their worlds, that's always the risk.)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-25 01:37 am (UTC)[That is to say, they would be completely disappointed with someone like Mai if they were ever saddled with her in some pointless, lifelong union. Sure, she can know her place for a while, play along with her assigned role until she starts to get cagey and decides to mouth off. And anyone worth their salt would swiftly remind her of what she is and who she belongs to.]
Someone like you, though? I don't know a thing about you, other than that you're a bored little wolf with nothing better to do than snatch up girls to eat.
[And that those wolfish eyes are frighteningly capable of boring into her soul with a devotion that Mai has never seen in any human she's had the misfortune of knowing. Now, though, those same eyes taunt her with the same ruthlessness Mai was so comfortable doling out. How bitter this medicine tastes when forced upon her to swallow, this time. And she loathes it, oh, how annoyingly frustrated it makes her feel to feel the upper hand slipping. She'd rather Cellinia return to looking at her with a misplaced adoration without expecting anything in return-- but it looks like she's caught on to Mai's greedy antics, and is coming to collect.]
But I guess you cleaned up okay, didn't you? If we're talking about people with nothing left to lose, you really had me beat, there.
[That photo is brought to the forefront of her mind again, the misery and emptiness in that Cellinia's eyes making her feel more than just a little bit of empathy. At least Mai has the decency to give a tough front, a snarky and prickly facade, despite her own anguish tethering her to the depths of its void. At least Mai has enough pride to never let the world see her own damning loneliness, let alone allow it to be immortalized in a photo. That Cellinia was no older than Mai and dared not hide how dismal she felt her existence was, even going so far as to keep it as a reminder for any guests to see and judge-- it almost makes Mai feel disgusted on Cellinia's behalf. Almost. She holds her tongue, knowing better than to make any further acidic remarks on a past she has no clue about.
Interesting though, what a far cry from that girl Cellinia is, now. It does beg the question if the wolf became any more well-adjusted after existing as a living corpse. Considering where the two of them find themselves, currently, perhaps the answer to that question is more than a bit complex-- or maybe the answer is simply a resounding 'no.' ]
Funny, though-- earlier you were so adamant about belonging to me, but I don't hear any of that anymore when you're talking about me 'winning' whatever this is. You think I'm the type to back down after I've gotten this far? Don't forget-- I know how to get you right where I want you.
[She hates it, the tone of those words and the insinuation behind them. That Cellinia would look upon her with ridicule should she back off at this point in their morbid little game, rather than with the poisonous worship she's tempted Mai with-- oh, that really fuels this swell of annoyance in her. More than that, though, it makes the desperate and clingy part of her want to meet that challenge with everything she can muster, just so she can steal back that intoxicating adoration and never let it slip through her fingers again. If she has to try and subdue a violent wolf to get her way, she won't shy away with getting a little bloody, herself.]
You can talk tough all you want, Cellinia, but you're not fooling me. When I win, it'll be when I've ruined you. And you'll be so broken in that you're not even gonna be thinking about marking me as a mate.
[She draws out that last word with a mocking lilt to her voice, eyeing Cellinia like this honorable offer of hers means so little to Mai. Show her exactly what being chosen for a mate is worth, pretty wolf. Slash away this troublesome girl's ignorance of what she's falling deeper and deeper into with every second she doesn't back away from Cellinia's risky challenge. Because Mai still has some fight in her, after all, despite every warning and survival instinct begging her to retreat from the beast's lair.]
So, then-- are you in that much of a hurry for me to tame you? Or can I squeeze a few more manners out of you so I can finish my shower?
no subject
Date: 2025-03-25 02:37 am (UTC)(because she isn't them, she won't be. what she is, is something else entirely. they're all fortunate that she never did become that dutiful wife her father wanted to be; she never would have survived it for long. not from those raging instincts, the desire for violence. that underlying urge for it. she's a natural-born prodigy of something as frightening as death and dealing it in how she can change her demeanor into being anything but normal. that side of her that she always tries to keep further down away from others. nobody needed to see her like the way she had been before; that wolf who would have taken lives mercilessly. it didn't matter if nobody knew about her being this terrible. not even about the cause of the sickness, the cause of her own tiredness. she's here, she's freed from all of it. or that's what the wolf has often told herself.
which is why she finds it easy to call out others, she knows too well some things. she's proof enough of someone being worse off than she'd care to admit. but that didn't mean those taunting eyes and their ruthlessness didn't have that devotion to them. because she does this exactly due to those confusing feelings. admiration, devotion, and worship of a girl that has never had it once in her life. how much of it does she understand? don't you care to find out and learn now, lover? how she would make your family pay, how she'd while covered in blood kiss you so sweetly? why not the idea of her granting you that freedom she took by force?
there is so much more underneath it, that intoxicating adoration is only the beginning in how serious her gaze is. the sight of her issuing a challenge so fiercely. whatever is this to anyone else? they'd never understand the feelings a beast like her could ever have when met with someone that has suffered anguish that reaches down into her very soul. the agony that she knows all too well when mai speaks about it. about her in those photos again.)
You're right. I had absolutely nothing.
(another bone chilling admission. what did she mean by that? surely someone like her would have had people to rely on, people that cared about her to that point. right? the answer to that won't be mentioned. her sole saving grace came from one concerned beast, and that was that. nobody cared about the sole survivor. she who burned everything in fire then left behind the corpses in blood, in the rain that she smells so thickly of often.
but she says nothing more on it, she won't. what she instead does is reach to take mai's other hand. her own so very rough, so worn and having had taken so many lives. she does this because she won't elaborate, with the way her lips press to the top of it like something half chivalrous, half not. devoted and wild, two halves that would always exist of this wolf. the pretty wolf who would not back down from the promised challenge she gives her lover. she wouldn't just show her, she'd teach her what it means to belong to someone like her.)
I'll ruin you beautifully in kind, Mai. Don't even doubt that for a second.
(no, that tone says this is a promise. another vow, devoted and more than that. she would ruin this goddess beautifully. even as she steps away from pinning her, her hand holding mai's while she pulls her in closely. like she wants to whisper a secret, but the reality is more than that. she wants to touch and be touched in kind. those searing eyes are all hers, the fire that burns in them and everything. nobody has gotten these reactions from the wolf, so perhaps mai can say she's on the right track.)
Then touch me, I'll burn your body in my mind as you do mine for this.
(come on, pretty goddess, she'll make you feel like you belong and more.)
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Date: 2025-03-26 12:04 am (UTC)Got a little more than 'nothing,' now, though.
[And Mai doesn't just mean herself, caught in the clutches of this wolf deep in her lair. Even though there's an exit in sight, she averts her eyes, only wanting to watch her captor carefully. Mai wants to search her, wants to find where that dead-eyed girl in that picture finally became this ravenous wolf pinning her against the shower. If only she could see where the threads of the past tied in knots with those of the present-- if only she could discern a similar path out of her own grim life. Ah, is that jealousy stirring in her again? This rotten feeling that has her delusional to think that, if she should be the one to sink her teeth into her lover, she might be able to taste the secrets to freedom, herself.
Truthfully, the sticky feeling of jealousy is far better than whatever familiarity arises at Cellinia's icy admission at a depthless existence of emptiness. If this wolf can sniff out even a hint of a similarity within her, it would mortify Mai. Don't look at her, don't look at her like they're the same. For she has so little left-- close to nothing, herself. And she'll be damned if she ends up being pitied by Cellinia for it.
She'd rather be ruined beautifully a million times over than find herself in that position.]
....We'll see about that.
[Of course, Mai doesn't doubt it, no matter how strongly she wants to end up the victor. She can feel it in the heat of the kiss that Cellinia presses to her hand, that this promise is so close to being fulfilled. Mai beholds this display with an impatience that's nearly splintering at the edges. Damn this wolf, pulling her between extremes like this.]
I knew it, though. I knew getting involved with you would give me a headache.
[Humans are a headache, too, but at least they're boring enough for her to dismiss once she's had enough. This wolf has her claws sunk into her but deep, now, and Mai is smart enough to recognize that pulling herself away would mean tearing chunks of her flesh out in the efforts. Not that she even entertains the idea of being that kind of coward-- Cellinia won't get the satisfaction of seeing Mai as the one to retreat with her tail between her legs. No, but she'll give her another manner of satisfaction, something far more mutually beneficial.
This attempt at a shower is a bust, and Mai has given up on the idea of getting properly clean. The water still runs over them, a touch cooler now, though does it really matter when their blood is still running hot from all of their taunting? She lets Cellinia pull her close, their hands still linked, and Mai steels herself again to rise to the challenge posed to her. Bracing her free hand at the back of Cellinia's neck, she brings her in tightly for a deep kiss, practically willing the taste of frustration to be traded between their tongues. Through heavy droplets of water collecting upon her eyelashes, Mai watches Cellinia with a growing exasperation towards those gallant words and those taunting eyes. Then, with an audible smack, she abruptly breaks the kiss.]
...Whatever.
[This annoyed utterance is more towards herself than anything. Her hand squeezes firmly at Cellinia's, fingernails digging slightly into that roughened palm.]
Turn off the water. I want you on the bed.
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Date: 2025-03-26 02:09 am (UTC)there is no pity, she doesn't pity this girl. she only knows as depressing further as the idea is that they're both bound to be doomed. born to die, born to fade away into something that would have ended them. something that should have killed the wolf while she tried to escape that soul crushing hell she once had been part of. she did have a little more than nothing, her eyes are on one person and that understanding is what seems to gnaw at them. they know too well, they would never say it or admit it. the wolf is not going to say it even if she did come to realize this later.
because they both know, saying it out loud would only destroy them further. they've lost more than they'd tell anyone. cellinia almost surely would not tell her lover everything. not about those days when she found herself going through the motions. how long did she dream of dying until those dreams ended? it took a long time, that was the unsaid part. that bone chilling and empty stare had faded as life returned throughout seven years to a woman that had some manner of luck on her side. not good luck, not all the time.
but they didn't need to think about it. her hand is in mai's own, her thoughts are anywhere other than that history she once had been part of. the bloodstained streets and dreary rain that constantly fell on her, on others like it was a constant weeping from the sky about the lives taken.
she didn't need to know about it. while she holds her hand so tenderly, while she pushes forth feelings they both could hardly parse with where they are. it'd be a miracle if they did know what this feeling was, so soon, so fast. they didn't. not the way that cellinia runs her rough fingertips along mai's hand. that same gallant way she has. the game has been set, the challenge made while they're both unwilling to back down from a certain truth. they're only going to fall in too deep. the comment about her being a headache was something she would have snorted at, if cellinia had it in her.
she could say that she felt the same about mai in a way, but doesn't. because they both know it's a mutual fact this time that wouldn't change. cellinia is a headache to deal with, there's a reason why her friends often struggle to tell what she's thinking or feeling. a bigger struggle to know what she's thinking about in particular between her and her pretty goddess. they're impatient.
they're both feeling it even as she gets pulled in. tight, the kiss deep and frustrated, hungering. she almost melts to it before it breaks, the annoyance evident in mai's tone as amber are on hazel. she didn't say it would be that easy. it won't be easy, not on both of them whenever she almost loses herself in those eyes again from their closeness. that is, until she reaches as mai requested with her free hand to turn the water off. the coolness of it did nothing for stopping that heat thrumming in her veins. she's on fire, lit up and craving into being this ravenous beast before mai.
her hand squeezes mai's own in return, the feeling of nails slightly in her palm doesn't deter her much. if anything, roughness has always been something she enjoys, but she isn't the sort to go too far with that. the kind with nails in her back and teeth leaving marks was more than enough for this big bad wolf. little red riding hood doesn't need to fear that much whenever she opens the door for her lover.)
My room, then.
(the secret of it might not ever be obtained this early, but that didn't mean she was against the idea of her lover taking what freedom she's given greedily. doesn't she deserve that, too? freedom. the taste of it, the need of it. all at her fingertips and they both hadn't known that themselves. their story could end in blood spilled and them disappearing, or in them quietly fading like a real pair of lovers on the run from what awaits.
cellinia for her part is dutiful and minding her "manners" again. she's curious, anyway. what is mai planning to do in her bedroom when she gets the wolf beneath her and that body the goddess considers perfect? is she going to mark her more as her canvas?
that's the bigger mystery in itself for them.)
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Date: 2025-03-26 08:51 am (UTC)And here she is, acting like the least virtuous girl of them all. Though, maybe there's something to be said about the way she clings to an affection that will surely slice her heart open viciously, one day. Maybe there is something pure about it, a sliver of purity that lurks beneath layers of bitterness that would only desire to smother the virtue of this twisted pursuit. Could this tiniest of fragments be enough to salvage her soul from being cast into hell? Or perhaps one day, she might see her wolf in the devil's clutches and decide that she would rather embrace her rightful place in the flames than to never taste another drop of that devotion.
It's another thought for another day, one far, far in the future-- provided she makes it through today in one piece. Luck might have been on her side at the commencement of their meeting, but now the playing field has leveled enough that Mai feels the shift of it beneath her feet. Annoying, the real headache of it all. Mai is plenty aware that she is no better, a veritable headache all her own, but that beloved trait of hers hardly affords her the upper hand here, not with the way Cellinia opens the shower door for her, once more falling into the role of the well-mannered lover. Before, she had cornered Mai against the glass, and now she permits her to leave, facilitates her departure for a more promising (and hopefully more successful) endeavor. It certainly feels like she's at the beast's mercy, but like the petulant girl that Mai is, she won't be satisfied until the pendulum swings back in her favor.]
Yeah, yeah. I know where it is.
[Her hand still latched onto Cellinia's, Mai steps out from the confines of the shower with her wolf in tow. Tepid water begins to pool immediately on the tiled ground where her footsteps fall. Someone else's problem, not hers-- she's not the one who needs to mind her manners right now. Let her trail water all the way to bed, it'll be forgotten quickly once she resumes her little warpath. On her way out of the bathroom, Mai catches one last glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair frames her face in wet strands from which droplets still fall, and her cheeks are slightly flushed from the temperature. Her expression is far more impatient than before-- but she can still recognize herself. Better not lose, she commands her reflection. Because once this game and this challenge reach their conclusion, Mai doesn't want to recognize herself. She wants to see herself the victor, for once. And Cellinia, well... she doesn't want to recognize her, either, but for a completely different reason.
Reaching the bedroom, Mai loosens her fingers and pulls her hand away entirely, immediately taking a seat at the edge of the bed and looking up at Cellinia still standing only feet away from her. The dampness of her skin finds a new home in the bedsheets beneath her, but something about the odd discomfort of it only heightens the excitement at getting to prove her mettle against a wolf ruled by her enigmatic duality.]
Well? Waiting for an invitation? Come here, then...
[But as soon as the words leave her lips, Mai clamps her mouth shut and a thoughtful look graces her features before she speaks to correct her own suggestion.]
No, wait-- I think I'll be nice and make that little wish of yours come true, Cellinia. I'll even let you thank me when i'm done.
[Whatever does she mean...? She nestles her chin in her open palm and eyes Cellinia cooly as if she knows she's about to utter something rather bold without paying any mind to the impropriety of it all.]
Go and grab me something to tie you to the bedframe with. I don't need you getting any funny ideas and losing your cool on me again.
[There-- some of the mystery is dispelled now, isn't it? Sometimes, being plain about her intentions will earn Mai her way more swiftly than dancing around them. Let's see how quick to obey her pretty wolf still is... ]
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Date: 2025-03-26 08:08 pm (UTC)but she isn't that capable of it, not the way she would have been in her youth. it's a miracle that the wolf could even give so much of herself now, in bed with a stranger who she had taken that chance with for a change. she doesn't argue, she doesn't fight any further. mercy is there, it even exists within her while her curiosities remain. she could recognize that mai is on the warpath about her interruptions and taunts, their back and forth which had sparked more than a game between a pair of girls who were far too similar. similar enough they'd never admit it. not to anyone more than themselves when it crept in that there was more to them and their meeting than they'd ever know at the time. what mai receives is devotion, the taste of it and the desire to grant it to her.
the water dripping to the floor is something that can be ignored, all along the wooden floors and across from the bathroom. her tail drips the brunt of it, so does that lengthy hair of black and red. cellinia doesn't say a word else, she follows hand-in-hand. her mind is elsewhere, just like her attention is on this girl. watching her every movement and memorizing it. from her steps to how mai's hand felt in her own while she stays near to her goddess.
whenever mai took a seat, she was about ready to get on her knees for her lover again, to be that dutiful wolf until she taunted her so prettily into that ravenous beast she could be. that is, until she had other ideas. cellinia was silent, curious on what was about to be said after being told she could even thank this little red riding hood when she's done. the question is on her tongue, but then mai clarifies. her remark in the shower about tying her down to be at her lover's mercy? that's the least surprising thing of this day from what the wolf thinks about it.
since she did mention it (and really, it was cellinia's idea) so casually, it almost causes her to wonder more what sort of merciless touch her little red riding hood has in mind. there's a pause, but she's checking her night stand. back to her lover again while she sits on the other side of the mattress. close enough to be touched, to be grabbed again if her guard was dropped. maybe it might be, now that's an amusing thought for what is drifting into evening between them.
the glimmers of the sunsetting matches those pretty eyes of her wolf's own when after some shuffling around she takes out what looks to be a red tie. one of the ones she hadn't used yet for her suits, brand new and looking tempting to bind her wrists with. no handcuff surprises, as amusing as the thought is of someone like cellinia carrying handcuffs would be. she didn't seem the type for anything they're doing, that they're indulging in.
some might have even been thrown for a loop after knowing her, though that's what makes it interesting. that she can have more to what once had been a woman expecting her death to come any time, any place and dreaming about it. she doesn't argue, not about her suggestion from earlier when that red tie is held out to her lover. this is playing a game against a predator, isn't it? they know when to strike and when to wait. that doesn't mean cellinia is foolish enough to be impatient more than earlier and hastier than how she acted.)
Will this do, then?
(it's not like her room has a lot to be used for this, for sinful indulgences and lover's spending time in bed with her. she's got more than this one tucked away in that drawer, those beautiful eyes are looking at mai in all the right ways again. despite that lurking beast beneath them, she's captivated and drawn in. could this ever be a good idea to have a wolf solely as hers, one like cellinia who may tear to pieces anyone that pushes their luck too far?
or is it only fitting? the way they'd tear one another in a more figurative sense to pieces, how they'd drag one another through that fire called their lives. the more hellish side being mai's while cellinia's own hell had faded to nothing aside from ash and burnout embers.
unsurprisingly, the radio plays in the background. nothing too discernable yet, but she did reach with the remote to turn it up. if only to give them a cover while not allowing her poor neighbors to come over disturbed by the loud sounds of music in the background. the song itself seems to be almost over before it begins the next act of their twisted affections and everything that would blossom eventually into a love that might never stop haunting both wolf and little red riding hood.)
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Date: 2025-03-27 10:31 am (UTC)As it is, her imagination is plenty occupied with the different ways she plans on touching and teasing Cellinia once she has her tightly secured. What would her lover enjoy most-- and what would make her crumble so thoroughly for her precious goddess? Something tells Mai that there may be some overlap between the two.
Her first order of business, of course, will be completing her work upon that perfect canvas, marking Cellinia up anywhere there's a blank space begging for her teeth to sink in and her lips to suckle firmly. Hazel eyes trail eagerly over her lover's body bathed in the warmth of the golden hour sifting in from a partially shuttered window. A devastating beauty, really, even with the dark ink running across her back and arms, decorating her skin dangerously with images of ferocity and nature's splendor.
Away from Cellinia's immediate attention, now it's Mai's turn to eye her curiously. She's never before laid her eyes upon a woman who styled herself like some sort of yakuza kingpin-- strange, Mai never got the impression that the delivery service she was utilizing was mob-affiliated. It would be just Mai's luck, wouldn't it, to get herself caught up in something perilous while chasing some self-satisfaction? Yet, in an odd way, it doesn't truly frighten Mai as it ought to if she were anyone normal, a girl who wasn't born into a rather merciless family of her own. And Mai is used to their cold and unfeeling eyes whenever they find themselves upon her, is used to shouldering whatever cruelties and insults they see fit to bestow upon her just for existing. Cellinia doesn't scare her in this respect-- if only because she's treated Mai with a tenderness that doesn't match up to her tough exterior.
Well, Cellinia's mysteries pile up more and more, don't they? The vicious eyes of the wolf tattooed upon her back is at odds with the calm expression she wears while she draws out a handful of something red from the nightstand. A tie, it seems, of quality fabric that should be able to withstand some tension from what they're about to get up to.]
It'll work. Better than nothing.
[Some snarky remark is smothered before it rolls off her tongue-- something about how she was honestly surprised that Cellinia didn't have a leash hanging around here somewhere that would do the trick just as well. It's not that she is purposefully treading lightly, but it would be a pain if she provoked any annoyance once more in the wolf before she had her tied down and unable to act on said annoyance.
Accepting the tie held out to her, Mai runs her fingers over the smooth fabric and smiles softly to herself. What manner of predator offers herself to be captured so readily? Her wolf is a rare thing, isn't she? Wearing the appearance of someone who would gladly dine on savagery, while once more beholding her with those eyes-- the ones that Mai can't help but desire all the more strongly. As soon as she gets her way, they won't be able to look anywhere else but at Mai while she makes good on her promise.
She waits for Cellinia to set down the remote to her radio before taking her hand and pulling her atop the bed, her eyes rather mirthful once the sounds of music fill the otherwise quiet bedroom more loudly than earlier.]
Ha, don't tell me you're shy now. I thought you liked showing off a little.
[It's fine, Mai will hardly object despite the teasing she doles out. There's no shortage of amusement that she feels about it, though-- that Cellinia would want to be considerate of either the neighbors or the two of them is but another facet of her that goes at odds with her dangerous appearance. Has Mai lucked out-- or has she simply grown accustomed to this peculiar headache?
Perhaps the answer to that line of questioning doesn't truly matter all that much, with how Mai presses a hand against Cellinia's chest to urge her down atop the bed. She's committed, after all, to seeing this through to the end, wherever the end might have her. The little smirk on her lips makes it obvious that her greatest ally for this next act will be her fearlessness.]
Be good for me, Cellinia.
[And then Mai straddles her, gathering her wrists in her hands and beginning to wind the blood-red fabric around them before weaving it through the openings in the bed frame. She makes as many passes as the length of the tie permits, finishing her work with a couple of sturdy knots. Not bad, but nothing a bit more practice can't fix.]
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