(it does feel different, which is the terrifying part of it all. that they might feel something so different in comparison to those bonds that were often fleeting. how people would leave their lives, without a word and letting them drown more away under the current. cellinia likes to think this is not like the people who would happily use them for their own gains, their own enjoyment while leaving them to pick up the pieces. they canât stay on this couch forever while pretending life isnât carrying on, or that reality doesnât beckon them into putting aside their dreams of bliss to take care of their more pressing issues. such as, their clothes, her bedding, and everything else. thatâs the problem, neither girl wants to pull away from bliss theyâve found. the greed is there, everything about it that they could have dared to ask for in youthful innocence theyâve long since lost alone. but it wasnât something that mattered, here, in their arms for a time. they were more than their scars for a time. more than anything that could have torn them apart and shaped their lives into the ruin they were. for a time, they would let the sun and moon witness them while they struggle to let go of expectations of one day being left behind for being too much.
the kisses are a temptation in themselves, to give in a little longer. to push a little more from chaste to something more. how could they not want more? neither of them are in a hurry, no matter the way they said they ought to get up. which is what makes it so difficult, troublesome really, to part from a comfort theyâve found they enjoy too much for their own good when she hums in response idly to her loverâs words.
they really are hopeless, arenât they? giving in to a little bliss and so soon. not rushing themselves to part, either. they should know better than to get caught up in it when they should tend to themselves first. the kisses cellinia sneaks in are a little greedy, but can you blame her for that, mai? she hasnât had a touch like yours, not once. helpful, anyway, that she isnât the sort of demanding girl with chores. sheâll do her part and help as befitting her own role. truly, she can be such a boy and yet also softer than one in the things this wolf could do without arguing. she does do her own share of the chores, her apartment is spotless for a reason despite the organized clutter here and there. of books, music, and movies she found herself the new owner of.)
Sorry....
(sheâs not sorry. the last kiss she sneaks in of her lips is enough to help melt away the fatigue more, sleepiness fades to a softened up expression. those eyes again full of reverence and all solely on mai. the girl that would have them alone. nothing lasts forever, perhaps, but later mai would get to memorize her face again in bed. on another sleepy morning or afternoon shared between them where her sleepy wolf might even find herself kissing her darling lover all over again into awakening sweetly. she misses her hands already, but she doesnât stop her. not from getting up, not even from the part where cellinia almost snorts at mai suggesting she might want to wear more of her clothes.
she did leave that dress shirt for her in the bathroom, to wear until her uniform was washed up. the truth is that cellinia would be comfortable with mai taking as she pleases from her closest, the selection of hoodies, sweaters, whatever she pleases of her trendy yet masculine collection. soraâs handiwork that she has a decent closet and celliniaâs own taste factoring in since she did have a good sense of style. she finds she canât keep her eyes off mai even now, watching the way she moves after she commented about pulling off her wolfâs clothes. sheâs debating on it, giving her something to wear from her closet if she wants something more comfortable while waiting on her clothes to wash. or even letting mai grab whatever she pleases.
both would be good, but enough about those thoughts. the blanket lifts off her body, her rather handsome wolf even is unfazed but it doesnât help the way she looks at her. oh. she misses seeing her bare already, it leaves little to the imagination of thinking about reaching over to remove it. unraveling it from her lover before they dip into the warm water of their hopefully relaxing bath. best to save those thoughts for later. another time, whenever they both werenât trying to make the most of this bliss theyâre crafting with their own hands. carving into their souls and into their lives gradually as something more than their dreary mundane moments.
but at the same time, her gaze follows her lover off into the distance. into the bathroom, watching her every moment and how the blanket when she catches that haughty look. almost like she flirts again with the wolf by pretending she hasnât committed her body to memory. that mantle of a blanket suits her too well, cellinia thinks more to herself. sheâll be sure to later give you more than what you ordered, mai. your shopping list and time spent away from the gaze of others before the wolf gets on her feet. sheâs next in the bathroom, if only to retrieve their clothes. the uniform and celliniaâs own while mai hums that tune of hers and looks around.
cellinia wonât be in there for long, given she did quietly prowl off after to retrieve her bedding to go with their laundry. the bottles of shampoo and conditioner were plenty. seems like her wolf does put in effort for self-care. good, right? especially with fur like hers, the additional parts of herself that sheâd have to take care of.)
[It's greatly amusing and equally frustrating, how they match one another in their reluctance to pull apart from these affectionate, needy kisses. What would Cellinia do if Mai were to find herself staying over more often? They might not get anything useful done if this petulant goddess would have her wayâ or perhaps she might slowly, quietly adopt whatever routine Cellinia keeps in order for this life of hers to continue running smoothly. She'd rifle through her organized clutter under the guise of tidying it up, while learning about her personal tastes and pretending that she isn't surprised that her wolf is still a girl who enjoys a decent movie every now and again. Her nosiness would likely get her into trouble, but all the same, she'd be able to flesh out this figment, this dream of a lover who would haunt her thoughts whenever they were apart.
Maybe she would leave herself behind, too. Traces of Mai that would eventually find their spots in the nondescript corners of this apartmentâ clothes or facewash or cans of her favorite soft drinks. Her scent on Cellinia's pillows, on one she might decide is her favorite whenever she isn't using her heartbeat to lull her to sleep. Something to make her equally as real during the in-between moments, anything that would keep her in someone's memory when she was out of their arms. Blame it on her various complexes, the ones that never fail to remind her that she's forgettable even when she tries her hardest not to be.
Until then, she'll just have to content herself with wearing the scent of Cellinia's soap, and the faint fragrance of tobacco and cologne lingering on the clothes she'll borrow while waiting for her uniform to be cleaned. It's fineâ it's good enough, it'll have to be, because she can't bring Cellinia back with her, nor can she overstay her welcome, even if Cellinia had suggested keeping her. It almost certainly wasn't a joke, but⊠logic and reason are starting to creep their way into this reverie. There's only one sure way for Cellinia to keep her, and Mai doesn't want to tread close to that option right now.
For now, Mai is fine pretending as if they're normal lovers who merely want to cling to one another for just a bit longer, steal a few more kisses before responsibilities hasten them apart. Mai, of course, doesn't buy Cellinia's apology for a second. That's fine, though, because when has Mai ever been sorry for trouble she's caused for them, thus far? She's certainly not apologetic for cloaking her figure in the blanket, gleeful at the expression on Cellinia's face, one that betrays how accustomed she was to the unimpeded view before. Too badâ but you'll be able to to feast your eyes to your heart's content whenever the bath is sufficiently drawn, greedy little wolf.
Atop the bathroom counter sits the shirts that Cellinia had set out for them to wear last night, before the two of them opted not to even bother with clothing in the height of their splendid frustrations. If Mai were to lounge around here for the remainder of the day, then she sees no problem wearing only that simple dress shirt. A treat for Cellinia pretty eyes, perhaps, if she'll let Mai wear it for long enough to enjoy the sight. Of course, if they are to find themselves wandering about for a proper meal, then it goes without saying that they'd need to dress respectably. But if Cellinia wants to keep her goddess for her eyes only, then really, anything goes.
An oddly comfortable silence befalls them as they tend to their respective tasks. The rush of water into the bathtub is rather soothing, a rhythmic white noise that keeps Mai's mind from wandering too far. Hearing Cellinia taking care of laundry in the next room almost feels too normal and domestic, in a way that tugs at her heart in a way she's unfamiliar with, but nevertheless a way she secretly wants to experience again sometime. Along the edge of the bathtub are a few bottles she's picked out from Cellinia's surprisingly impressive selection. There was even a brand there that Mai sometimes used, another surprise. She'll hold her tongue at a joke she wants to make at thinking she was going to find some dog shampoo mixed in with the more normal options. She can be nice!]
Almost ready.
[She calls out, dipping her hand into the water to test the temperature of their bath. Mai keeps it a little less hot than she normally prefers, but it's comfortable enough to soothe whatever stiffness comes with sleeping on sofas. Next time, she'll avoid wrecking the bed too much for them to enjoy a proper night's sleep there.]
(fortunately, her routine isnât too different. she may not use the skin care products and other assortment of things that mai has, but cellinia does have her own routine. something she could adjust to suit the needs of her lover who she also struggled to part from for long. sheâs not that talkative, not from where sheâs at. gathering her bedding and replacing it did need her attention. not so much that it doesnât keep away all the thoughts, she knows that she likely canât keep her forever. if mai wishes it, she would, but she isnât going to make her make a choice that would be life-changing so fast and so soon. theyâre early into this rather unusual affair comprised of denying the love they felt. sheâd even be unfazed if mai found herself curious enough to be nosy and digging through belongings that came from an assortment of places. cellinia does have more movies, digital ones actually, that were bought for any occasion or mood sheâs in.
some horror, some romance, some action. the list goes on for whatâs lying around when mai grows that curious to look through her belongings. anything more personal is kept in her nightstand. but thatâs a worry for another time, her lover could make a list if she liked of things she would want to be kept around celliniaâs apartment for visits. even thatâs only a start while the wolf attempts ignoring the way her more logical and reasonable sides tells her that she shouldnât expect much. to stop getting her expectations up. no matter the way she wants to leave her scent on mai, or how mai wants to leave such lingering gifts. memorizing her heartbeat while they fall asleep together, pretending they were more than their sins. perhaps pretending they were human, more human than theyâd ever feel. if her lover struggles with being forgotten, then cellinia would never forget her. not in how those eyes of hers sat so pretty on mai like sheâs all that mattered in their world built around being broken to pieces.
it was enough that they wanted more, that they wanted to leave the little pieces of themselves for one another. that it was beyond what had started. however long mai desires to stay, sheâd never let go. not even in their lowest of thoughts and expectations for themselves with their views on how little they deserve such good. for that, sheâll give her freedom. freedom to take what she pleases, to carry out clothes covered in the faint scent of nicotine and cedar scented cologne. the wood notes of it being soothing and subtle while mixed into the scent of rain she also carries.
here they could be whatever they desired. a pair of girls pretending to be lovers while also not realizing how real it felt, how the feeling of domesticity itself was foreign and warm. like another blanket around them in this sweet dream theyâre part of. theyâre together. covering one another in the things they wish to haunt and be haunted by, as if that could chase away nightmares that would never leave them. itâd be nice if it could. if the love they deny could envelop them and keep away such terrible dreams until they unite again. she didnât mean that apology, as they both know, despite her disappointment that mai had covered up from enjoying the view she was given. later, then, she would satisfy her greed more. because she knows, her precious little red riding hood can be a greedy thing herself.
sheâll likely, if her lover wants to go out, allow her to raid her closet for anything she might wish to wear. undressing her, though? that depends on her lover. on if, she presses into that unending desire to feel one another again. the dress shirt was only something she picked out for ease and comfort, cellinia herself had chosen another tank top to wear. nothing more to go with them lounging. she did assume theyâd both want to relax before figuring out what they might do for their late lunch. there is always ordering, as cellinia can admit sheâs done when she didnât feel like cooking.
better to figure it out later, because she could easily want to keep her eyes on her goddess alone for a little longer. itâs comfortable, this quiet and how they seem to fall into it naturally. the washer starts with a low hum, their clothes and her bedding tucked away inside while the wolf reaches for a couple of towels that were kept in a cabinet within. convenient, really, that she keeps some of them in the laundry room to change out when her others might need washing in her bathroom closet. maiâs voice cuts through her thoughts, her thinking, right. time for reality again whenever she comes back within the bathroom. towels both in hand, her brushes would be grabbed later.
theyâd need them, plus she rather mai not be confused why one of them was full of fur instead of hair. cellinia did keep separate ones for the sake of brushing out that tail of hers alone without needing to overcomplicate it. having to care for fur can be a considerable pain, but not too much of one.)
Got the laundry going, maybe we can figure out lunch after?
[Nothing about this burgeoning affair has been linear thus far, a dozen steps skipped and none of the traditional courtship required for a more pure love to sprout forth. Indeed, there was nothing pure about the way the swept aside every sweet formality and delved into these heady passions without abandon. There was hardly a shred of innocence in how they dared to peer into the cracks of one another's souls, stealing a glimpse into the blackest depths where their tormented shadows writhed in their chains. And once they were smothered by their dark euphoria, it became evident there was no way that a pure love could ever bloom between them. Deep down, in the more painfully honest parts of their hearts, they can accept that an innocent, tender love would only perish in their hands. If one sincerely wishes to haunt the other's heart, then she ought to be resilient enough to withstand the poisonous storms within.
Nevertheless, Mai might find herself retracing those skipped steps, in her own furtive way. Her lover can wear all of the secrets she pleases, but her greedy fingers will sift through as many as she'll be able to. When Mai already has something as ironclad as a vow promising blood-drenched freedom, it becomes easier to want to learn more about what exactly makes someone this willing to devote herself so ardently. It's obvious, the perilous undercurrents that course beneath her darkly-inked and silvery-scarred skinâ but that won't be enough for Mai, the longer they indulge in this affair. She'll want to know everything, one way or another, even if it means inevitably overstepping the lines she cannot yet ascertain.
Fortunately, she is still shrugging off the last remnants of weariness to really plan her nosy expedition into her lover's personal life. Cellinia appears not long after Mai calls out to her, the hum of the washing machine dulled even further when she closes the bathroom door behind her partway. It tickles Mai for some reason, knowing that this pretty wolf had been tending to some chores in an effort to keep her little den tidy and livable, nary a complaint on her lips. Sure, Cellinia may live like a guy in some respects, but she's far more responsible than any that Mai had the misfortune of living withâ it's quite endearing.
She sits up a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and grinning at the nonchalant expression on her lover's face.]
Fine with me. You've got me kind of curious about what wolves like to eat. Aside from candy and girls.
[No, she can't resist slipping in this little quip, letting her hand stroke at the dark fluff of Cellinia's tail whenever she's near enough to set their towels down upon the counter. Mai doesn't ignore for an instant that she's in the presence of a beastâ a splendid one, but a beast all the same. She sports plenty of bite marks reminding her of this fact, but she knows well enough that Cellinia isn't going to suggest hunting for some raw flesh for their meal. As evidenced by the mostly normal way she appears to live, Cellinia is almost certainly just like any other girl with a sweet tooth. Another endearing aspect of hersâ that they can share a taste for yet another thing that isn't exactly the best for them.
Once the water level in the bathtub is satisfactory enough, Mai leans over to twist the nozzle to stop the stream. A pleasant steam lingers in the air, condensing lightly upon Mai's skin exposed beneath the blanket still loose around her torso. She rises from her place at the edge of the bathtub, and leans against the wall wearing that self-satisfied smile again. Even wrapped up still, Mai cuts a lovely figure, her hand delicately gesturing out from beneath the blanket and towards the tub.]
Well? It's only polite for me to let my hostess to go first, soâ after you.
(tormented shadows, the promises of ruin and freedom could only be something more fitting for a pair of jaded girls like them. they went beyond normal steps. courtship was something that felt more like a suggestion in their eyes, the normal aspects of it. dark things could only grow in their twisted garden originally, the way it used their thorns to wrap around them in wicked vines of cruelty. or of violence through the cracks, abandonment, the lack of care and attention given to them in many aspects of their lives. mai only has it worse, has had it worse, than cellinia would ever know currently. but that promise was true, wrapped in darker desires and urges. a wish to spill blood in the way she vowed death upon those who had hurt her so brazenly, they deserved not life when cellinia does see them. when the word is given. tender and innocent love would only die in their hands, their ruined hands and ruined souls. they would never know true innocence as a pair who has long since lost it. which is why, so sweetly and more, why, they craft this tale of theirs. a tale of blood, rain, and the demise of what shackles mai to itâs darkened depths.
she wears her secrets plenty beneath the thorns, the vines entangling them. they are there, but not seen and not so easily uncovered by those who may think themselves capable. everyone gives up, eventually. even cellinia knows it as a lesson too well. her friends has done that with not even daring to give her any attention more than what they could get their hands on. they know it as their own lesson when dealing with the wolf, she will say things as she pleases. words that often catch them off guard in how serious she is about the way the familige treats others. what mai might find, she would likely be surprised by. some might even be repulsed by her, from this history of bloodstained honor and integrity. the tradition that follows, their way of living as wolves. wolf eat wolf, law of the jungle. the strong will thrive and the weak shall die under heel.
later, she may be able to find something of her personal belongings. perhaps even more than that, something to dig into. to search up when it comes to her history. how overnight a single family burned away into ashes. their bloodline, ended. all that remains is before her when cellinia sets down those towels and adjusts them so they donât fall off the counter. sheâs not one to complain about chores, not even about keeping her home tidy or anything else in her day by day. it makes things easier to maintain something close to normal if she does. as much as she lives like a man, she does have things that stick out that arenât like most men. or maybe she can be called more of a man than most men themselves.
nonchalant expression and attitude aside, sheâs pleased with herself. her daily chores shouldnât be difficult to manage when they get done. any other cleaning, ordering food, changing out laundry and swapping her bedding around. typical things that people wouldnât expect of a wild wolf. anything wild, truly. maybe not even her when her tail decides to brush up against maiâs hand in response to her hand running along the fur. like itâs pleased to also receive attention now that was given to her ears.
how cute of her.)
Mm, or sharing said candy.
(or letting herself be eaten, but thatâs beside the point. the endearing parts of this wolf, this pretty wolf, can be interesting in themselves. how remarkably normal that she is, while standing out with those cute and sharp ears. that fluffy tail. this lovely beast of hers did crack a tiny smile, thatâs as close to them as anyone could ever get. it almost makes her look softer for the moment whenever as suggested, cellinia slowly dips her foot into the water then eases down to sit into the spacious tub first. her amber eyes soon falling on mai, the way that blanket looks wrapped around her again.
it does look good on her, she could admit that. but cellinia also misses seeing her bare, having her in her arms that way without a second thought. something about entrusting a lover with them in their most vulnerable states, thatâs also endearing. like trusting their partner to keep their naked bodies close and protect them all the same. delicate, but lovely. whenever the wolf relaxes, the stiffness of muscle and tension eases. though it didnât stop her from holding a hand out to her lover, as if in invitation.
sheâs waiting, for however long they may behave.)
[The tail slightly twitching at her touch draws an amused hum from Mai's lips, as does Cellinia's little musing. She likes to think that Cellinia doesn't have too much of a problem sharing with her, sweets or otherwiseâ after all, she has already shared plenty, no? Offering her such a delectable taste for her tongue to crave later, an embrace that sets her nerves alight, sweet words that sear into places where prying eyes can't see. Moreover, she's well aware of Mai's own greed, and doesn't seem a bit threatened by the creeping fact that this girl might never find herself quite satisfied. If enough could ever be enough for Mai, then they wouldn't find themselves prolonging their romp another day, and rectifying the mess they made of themselves from their last attempt at tidying up.
Mai still isn't sure what her devoted beast gets out of keeping her, what would really ignite Cellinia's soul at the end of all of this. She'll find out, though, surelyâ this wolf won't remain an enigma to her for long. Just because Mai has rolled over prettily for her once doesn't mean that she still doesn't feel compelled by a keen curiosity. That part of her is as certain as the sun, whereas the moon can think herself as clever as she pleases whenever she decides to hide her light.
Her eyes do brighten at Cellinia's wisp of a smile, and Mai swells with a triumph that makes itself plain as day upon her features. It's a sight enchanting enough to rival those eyes she so covets upon her, yet one that only adds to the overall allure of her as she slips into the water. Mai beholds every second with obvious delight, watching as Cellinia eases herself against the bathtub, leaning back and looking every bit the menacing work of art that she is. Drops of water spill over the dark ink covering her arms, and collect charmingly over the bruises littering her chest. Certainly a sight to admire, without any shame to muddle it.
At that hand held out so invitingly towards her, Mai can't resist the pride she feels at being watched, this time. Confidence cloaks her just as well as this blanket wrapped around herâ she knows that she's beautiful and she knows that Cellinia desires her. And she knows that it's a bit heartless to keep her handsome admirer waiting, as she slowly lets the fabric slip from her arms and pool at her feet. She wears her own collection of comely marks, and Cellinia deserves to appreciate them before Mai closes the space between their bodies. Her fingers brush against the palm held out to her before she grabs on more firmly and steps into the water now, herself. Never looking away, Mai sinks beneath the water with a soft sigh, and moves closer into Cellinia's corner of the tub.]
âŠgood, I was worried there wouldn't be enough room for me.
[A lieâ it's obvious that the tub is spacious enough, especially for an apartment. There's not a lick of worry on her face, but rather, a contented smirk as she makes herself more comfortable between Cellinia's legs.]
Ah, it feels nice⊠I could fall asleep like this, if I'm not careful.
[Another little lie, betrayed by the mirth in her voice, and the look she gives Cellinia from beneath her lashes. Oh, it should be fun to see how long they can manage to behave. Mai's own faith in the two of them is⊠middling, at best.]
(devotion is interesting, so is the idea naturally that someone could find themselves desiring a woman as deeply as they are. she answers that craving, her greed, with all that she could offer mai alone. her body, that searing look in her eyes that has yet to fade, the taste of her on maiâs tongue, and this embrace that wraps itself around them. vines and thorns which cover them together. itâd never be enough. not unless they could melt to pieces and carry the embrace of one another forever in their lives, but that also may never satisfy them and this urge to let go down to their souls. greed is something not so easily satisfied to begin with, the fact that they both arenât scared of the implications of both girls never being satisfied with only one time should say plenty. who needed satisfaction whenever they found a missing part of themselves from something that should have stayed as physical?
her soul ignites in her embrace, her lips thirst for more of her kiss. maybe she might uncover more of this enigma presented before her, how the wolf may never stop being one in some ways. because sheâs learned, she has to keep some parts of herself safe. away from the prying eyes of others for survival, allowing herself to let out everything is a weakness. those who are weak die fast, but not as fast as the lone wolves who abandoned their blood, their kin. mai may be the sun, cellinia could only be the moon to her while she watches her closely.
her marks, the bruises and love bites cover her skin beautifully. the imprints of scratches along her back mixed into where her lips marked more of the canvas she adores most only other parts of her body that mai has touched with her brush. a brush which cellinia shows off without shame, without a second thought in it. they were past the need for shame now, werenât they? and itâs nothing unusual for a beast to not carry shame. itâs only fitting of a wild animal to do such a thing. mark her territory and allow her lover to do the same if she found herself wanting to try and keep something as handsome, as dangerous as she is. her menacing and handsome work of art, her knight in all her darkly given promises. vows which left her with such ease, how they came out like poetry in the violence she would grant her the honor of saying the word for.
she watches mai, those searing amber eyes following closely. the sight of her easing that blanket and the fabric of it down slowly in her steps. she canât help how she watches her. cellinia wouldnât rip her eyes away for any reason, not in how she watches her beautiful goddess slip out of it. the marks which she left for her in worship unveiled, the way it hugged her curves before it dropped to the floor properly and their hands soon are held together. her thumb brushes along the back of maiâs tenderly, the rub of it into the skin slow while her lover takes this invitation presented before her. at first, cellinia expected her to find her own space knowing the tub has plenty of that offered to them both.
what happens instead, she didnât mind that either. mai settling against her, in her lap and closing any space between them as warm droplets of water trail down along their skin. she knows thatâs a lie, but she doesnât call her out on it. she only could take it as something to grow used to, something that she doesnât argue or mind knowing that they both struggled to allow themselves to separate for long. mai fits perfectly in her lap, against her body when cellinia instinctively rests her chin against her beautiful admirerâs own shoulder.
as if in response to the way she stares at her, beneath her lashes and lying again about the possibility of falling asleep like this. they both know she wouldnât, celliniaâs hands find a home against her hips again. the roughness of them even in warm water noticeable against the soft skin, the way her fingertips stroke idle circles into them with an amused hum.)
That relaxed, are you?
(she breathes it out lowly, ah, they may not behave for long. cellinia even has little faith that they could, but thatâs fine in itself. they neednât always behave. not all the time if they desired to cause mischief instead.)
[Sweet Cellinia, already accepting that Mai enjoys her little white lies, and willing to let her do away with personal space in favor of satisfying her whims. She's not an easy person to endure, this girl, for all of her quirks, some more harmless than othersâ but Cellinia seems to be doing well enough, taking her in stride. Time would certainly tell if Mai's greedy clinginess will be too smothering. Life's disappointments have shown her that even asking for too little can be twisted into seeming to be too much, so she's half-given up treading carefully. People can think what they wish of her, and they do. She'll tell herself that she doesn't care too muchâ yet when she's indulged like this, with someone who openly displays her own possessiveness, it almost serves to reinforce her own wicked nature. Why would she ever bother changing, or try to bend herself into someone else's ideal of a 'good girl,' when wearing those sharp thorns proudly has earned her that coveted missing piece?
'I'll make you mine forever.'
How could Mai not feel like the cat who got the cream? And she is every bit that haughty cat, sweetening only for the hand that feeds her, but happy to give a few bites, all the same. She does leave behind the prettiest marks, after all.]
Oh, yeah, I'm plenty relaxed.
[Her voice purrs, following a blissful sigh as she settles further against Cellinia's chest. Once more, they fit together as easily as if they were meant for this, the many different ways they might wish to hold each other close. It's as if the heat has softened their sharp edges even further, making them pliant and obliging to this rare tenderness. Of course, Cellinia envelops her far better than the warm water does, with her hands comfortably upon her hips, and her chin nestled upon her shoulder. The same safe feeling that wrapped her up so snugly in the night tingles familiarly wherever their skin connects, and Mai melts a bit further against her lover's embrace. One of her own hands traces along Cellinia's leg, before finding a few of the love bites she'd left and stroking over them mindlessly. Mm, she probably could have left a few more, right�]
This definitely helps after sleeping on a couch. [She can't help it, she really can'tâ ] But you weren't half-bad, at least.
[Best sleep she's had in a long time, a sentiment that they obviously both share, given how unwilling they were to rise for the day. Cellinia truly made the most wonderful pillow, amongst all of the other things she did to leave Mai nice and sleepy. Even now, she has no complaints at how peaceful it is to settle against her body, taking up space unapologetically in this continuation of their cuddling on that couch she had just bemoaned playfully. And when she tips her head just enough to get a better look at her lover's charming face, she can't resist the urge to keep teasing her a little. Despite being in such a precarious position, right in the middle of a wolf's grasp, Mai just can't bring herself to play the perfect little captive.]
Next time, though, I deserve to sleep in a proper bed. That's not too much to ask, right?
[As if to bolster her sweet-talking request, Mai reaches up to stroke slowly at Cellinia's sharp ears. She rubs and teases the silky fur with her fingertips, before letting her hand drag down somewhat to card through the damp, dark strands of hair. Mai knows it, of course she does, that her ask is only as possible as her willingness to be a good girl and not get carried away like last time. But it's already been established, right? Being good is overrated and hardly as funâ besides, she's almost certain that she'll continue to enjoy frustrating Cellinia, probably as much as Cellinia herself enjoys humoring her mischievous ways.]
(who needed to be good people, truthful and honest, when it gave them this? they traded innocence for the murmurs of something more than that. something wicked in promises to own and be owned. possessive girls, girls that refuse to let go through anything. they sink claws and teeth in deep. cellinia is only acting upon her own hunger and desire. she wants to make this girl hers forever, is what her baser instincts scream. those animalistic and more primal desires. who would willingly take a wolf up on such an offer? nobody sane, nobody desiring something sweet and innocent. their thorns fit too well against one another in how they wrap and ravel around each other. encasing them in a crown of them, something that would hurt those who dared to try and rip them from the girls. rip them apart, even, from how deep they go. all theyâd do is hurt themselves for trying to separate them now that their twisted garden has begun to grow something far lovelier than gentle blooms of flowers in fields and glades. she didnât want mai to change or force change about herself, no, this suited her plenty well. their missing piece, the piece they knew not was found within one another like it had been there this whole time. familiar, something that wraps around them further.
âI want to make you mine.â
she meant those words, she wants to cover her in everything. her scent, her teeth which could just as easily rip someone to shreds yet doesnât. she only bites down for the marks she left, the marks which decorate her loverâs beautiful skin and body. she doesnât mind even carrying maiâs marks, those pretty marks along her neck. those thighs of hers, and her back. no, there wasnât a need to hate it. not even to dislike it. what she does is, she takes this greed and embraces it with her own. how cute, her precious and sweet little wolf responds with similar greediness when it comes to such things about them.
cellinia hums lowly again at that purr, the feeling of maiâs fingers brushing along love bites that she left her. if she did want to leave more of them, who was she to disagree? she almost certainly wouldnât, not while they relax in this warm bath. a warmer embrace that seems to keep them together, melting away the stress and worries they would have typically dealt with. that mattered little, not in how skin to skin they seem to melt away into being something softer than they could have ever been. safety. protection, like those arms would never let go of her if she could help it. perhaps later she can leave a few more of her own marks, would she like that more to have them? or more of her kiss along her skin to light her on fire underneath her skin too, right?)
It was hard to get up....
(few words said, but they were words she meant. it was hard to get up. not in a bad way about being stiff, but in the sense of them not desiring to end their comfortable embrace. like this, when mai tips her head, their eyes lock again as best they may from this position. she doesnât mind that her lover refuses to be a perfect little captive in her den. thatâs what makes it all the more interesting. their bodies are like puzzle pieces for one another, ones which could only melt them further. their edges would never fade, not even the thorns, or how they could stab into anything unwittingly getting too close for comfort. but, that also meant little to them who were unfazed by the sting. instead they embrace it, they let themselves go in tenderness that would never be shared with another lover.
it truly is precarious, no? mai is trapped in her warm embrace, anything could happen that was less than innocent and chaste. though she says nothing for now, nothing more than nuzzling into her shoulder at her fingers teasing those fluffy ears of hers. their sharpness as usual standing out when they twitch in response, the wet fur easy to brush through before maiâs hand makes its way through celliniaâs hair instead. those cute ears almost seemed disappointed she stopped for now. she can behave, she thinks. for how long is not as easy to tell seeing as how mai could frustrate her as she pleases and watch this handsome wolf unravel for her again in the warm water. it all depends on their willingness to behave.)
Itâs not too much to ask for....I did get the sheets swapped out for if we needed a bit more rest.
(would that stay a simple time of rest, truly? the two of them could easily turn that from what would be a small rest into more than that. especially since cellinia almost wonders if she ought to start expecting to sleep nude in how comfortable they both seem to be at the idea of that. sleeping bare and vulnerable, holding one another in such an embrace. how shameless, some might say.)
[Though not truly a proof of ownership, these two lovers have left upon one another a reservation or sorts in those bruises scattered across their bodies. They'll serve as as both a reminder of their shared appetite for one another, and a promise to return and feast again. For a pair of girls who linger at the edges of loneliness, wearing such marks means anchoring themselves to something that is true, rooting them in place for another soul who would dare to bloom with them in spite of the harsh terrain comprising their hearts. It would be a sorry thing to watch these marks fade over time, the dabs of violet disappearing beneath unblemished skin once more. Would it be like the slow waking from a dream, where the details start to become fuzzy, while the proof of hungry adoration becomes no longer obvious? Would their bodies, in an attempt to protect them, try to forget how delectable it felt to have a lover's lips and teeth leaving stinging souvenirs in places where they had demanded them?
Or would the ghosts of those kisses and bites haunt their flesh long after the bruises disappeared beneath the surface? Is that what Cellinia intended with her declaration? That her teeth sink more profoundly than merely skin-deepâ no, she must've gone farther below, leaving behind a more permanent promise where no eyes might ever see. Certainly, this promise is one that draws blood, staining Mai all the more beautifully for her. And it won't show, it isn't something obvious enough for anyone but them to be aware of, but it shall be a stain that blooms like the most dangerous flower in their distorted garden. A mark that finds its only match in one another's souls, whenever the fog of misery lifts enough from their eyes for them to witness the miracle of it for themselves.
For now, though, the haze is still thickâ the images of love, that lamentable and unnecessary feeling, cannot yet be discerned. Nevertheless, it flickers faintly in this haze, unhurried for these lovers to become wise to its swaying presence. They can certainly think themselves only engaging in this little dance for some physical satisfaction. Neither will know of the true consequences of of their union until it's far too late, and delightfully so.]
Funny, that you think we'd be getting any rest over there.
[She raises her eyebrows knowingly at Cellinia's harmless suggestion. There's absolutely nothing innocent that can happen involving the two of them and a bed, considering how they made a right mess of it last night. Does Cellinia already desire to have Mai again, feel her melting beneath her touch and pleading for all of the terrible things that she really shouldn't be? Will they really be able to rest once they've returned to the altar where they've made their sinful vows? No, that passion is already too addictive, and they already know well enough that when it comes to behaving, they're well-matched in their impatience.]
I meant, next timeâ next time I come to get some sleep.
[Because whenever it does happen next, there will be another evening spent in full together. Mai has tasted a good night's rest, a slumber without the plague of horrid dreams and thoughts fraught with a loathing directed at herself. Shameless or not, she experienced a warmth wholly unfamiliar to her, in the way that their flesh kissed one another unimpeded throughout the night. It felt peaceful, natural in its rarity, to lay bare beside one who so easily vowed to cut down anyone who might try to do them harm. No need to wear any cloak of false modesty when they've opened up the more raw parts of themselves, if even for the briefest of moments. Whether they liked it or not, there was no going back to whatever shells of themselves that they had been before.]
Don't try to trap me in your bed, Celliniaâ I don't know if I'd ever make it out in one piece.
[Her sharp laugh echos off the tiled walls, and she tries her best to give Cellinia a kissâ making it as far as cheek from the position their in, and the way her lover is nuzzled into her shoulder. When she considered the idea of being trapped, Mai recalls how well-suited Cellinia was to being bound. Yes, she made the most eye-catching captive, didn't she? Behaving magnificently until Mai beckoned her down the path of retribution under the guise of pleasure. Forget about Mai leaving in one pieceâ whomever finds themselves at the mercy of her moodiness might find themselves wishing that she would be confined in the wolf's sacred altar of wicked love.]
(the bruises might never leave her mind, not even the taste of her. there is nothing to stop her mind from wandering back to it, the thoughts of less than innocent words exchanged. anchoring themselves means opening their respective gardens to the pain and more that would come from allowing vulnerability. vulnerability could end them as much as it could absolve them of the agony theyâve suffered. their skin may heal of the bruises and bite marks, the love bites left sooner rather than later, but that wouldnât stop cellinia from leaving more in their place. sheâd leave so many more. decorate her body in them without a second thought as a monument to this twisted garden that theyâre growing in one another. resisting wonât do her any good on that, not in how she considers it. her teeth sinking into places only mai would know about. covering her in the marks that were demanded as her reward. that promise she ached for of them with cellinia even giving her plenty of new ones that might not fade any time soon themselves.
souvenirs that may never fade away, even, in how their minds would often go back to it. wondering about them. the unending urge to own and be owned in the way theyâve begun to anchor one another. reality could call for them, but that doesnât mean they would lose this. cellinia herself meant more than surface level marks in her wish to haunt and be haunted. permanent promises, their vows while she offers blood in exchange for freedom as one girl deserves herself. truth is something they ignore, because that meant coming to terms sooner with how comfortable they are in each otherâs arms. those consequences could only be part of what leaves its everlasting mark. cellinia is comfortable, her hands idle in how they rub into the skin of her loverâs hips. sheâs not in any rush to move them further. touch alone does plenty for her, but it wasnât something that could satisfy this greed alone. cravings which felt constant to push further.
her darkly given vows and promises would only continue, because who was she to judge the way her lover holds her monsters as something she wants to be removed from her life? from the perpetual nightmare theyâve given her that was so helpfully kept at bay by her wolfâs own warm embrace? but she did know, neither of them would be sleeping. not a single bit or not for long if they found themselves alone in bed together again. it wouldnât be them resting, theyâd be unable to resist the allure of that siren song which calls to them. that song that demands they donât stop feeling this unending hunger, that it doesnât die down while their bodies meet again and again beneath the moon.
on that wicked altar the wolf offers made of bloodstained promises and tender love given from her teeth and claws. her tongue which could lavish her in its own worship from the way cellinia speaks to mai like sheâs every bit what she could have ever desired in this fucked up and miserable excuse of a world. the sinful vows could only keep growing, whispered lowly along her lips and neck when offered it. why wouldnât she oblige to this, after all? the wolf could only be excited by it. that her lover could ever want something so violent and ugly in her presence, so willing to worship her without a second thought in love they do not admit to feeling for many reasons.)
Fair, I think my point last time still stands.
(she said it best last night, didnât she? murmuring how she wouldnât let her sleep while restrained so beautifully for mai. maybe she did desire it, to hear the things mai wants from her. how the idea makes her melt more in the hands of a beast that is too ready to give her such cruel promises for those that she deems the ones she desired to be punished. neither of them would behave long in the grace of this sinful delight and addiction of theirs to touch, passion, and intense cravings. cellinia knows she wouldnât be able to stop herself from wanting to touch her more, from wanting to hear that sound of her lovely voice hitting those notes for her as far better music than what plays on her stereo.
itâs a song in itself to hear, one that cellinia memorizes down to the last note. that restful slumber they had for the first time in ages is only something mutually shared, shameless. theyâre so very shameless, how they long for nights now with their flesh kissing the others. where theyâd hold open their bodies and battered hearts for someone that knows this suffering of theirs too well. vulnerability, the raw feeling of it from someone passing through the cracks while equally injured, itâs another addiction. they could never go back to those days. not any time. she didnât want to, that was clear from what the felt subconsciously.)
Hmm? Youâre fine in my arms, arenât you? I could be gentle for you, how Iâd treat you and touch you.
(she followed down that path given with ease, cellinia who is comfortable and holding her like something to covet. she behaved, behaved under her loverâs touch and murmurs. cellinia can be perfect on a leash and collar when it suits her on that altar they made their vows and promises. the wolf seems to have caught what her lover wants after her lips brush against her cheek when her head tilts just right to catch her lips. the kiss they wanted, likely both craved, given with a soft sigh into maiâs lips.)
[Any manner of absolution from this tormenting existence could only be a welcome reprieve, but did either of them really find themselves deserving of it? Vulnerability was double-edged sword ready to taste the blood it would draw from the clumsiness of being wielded by two love-starved drifters. It's easier to live in the illusion that they're stronger than this weakness, even if they've both tasted the truth last nightâ that they aren't stronger. And even now, this taste dares to linger upon their tongues, further dissolving this futile illusion.
The only things that are real, the only things that are true, are the touches they give one another beneath the warm water. Promised words can be sweet blessings, just as easily as they can become bitter curses, yet these vows can only be certain once they're fulfilled. The disappointment of broken promises isn't unfamiliar to Mai, leaving her to force herself to only believe in whatever misery is in front of her. Yet despite this bleak determination, a part of her heart sneaks around her own blind spots, clinging to these promises of freedom beckoning her to take a taste. More than that, the parts ingrained into her soulâ the part of her that can create something out of nothingâ make her believe that she can craft a reality out of the ghosts they will become. That a worthwhile life can be born from this curse of death, and that these temporary touches can one day become a lasting embrace.
Cellinia has found what she has yearned for in this unlikely lover, and she, too, is what Mai would have desired in her lonely wishes to escape, to be protected and cherishedâ loved, even, if she could be so greedy and shameless for such a gift. Perhaps, before now, her wishes were merely aimed in the wrong direction, focused towards a target that was ever-moving. An impenetrable target, made so by the world that they shared, though a world that had shaped Mai differently due to her own weakness. Yet, her long-held wished for this devotion and dedication somehow found their way to the right person, one who was shaped similarly by a treacherous past. She was far from a white knight, but Cellinia could be a champion nonetheless, vanquishing the monsters and restoring a sad girl's feelings of worth. Violence and ugliness, the world was so full of of those thingsâ hiding within curses, family strife and broken promisesâ that Cellinia and her blood-drenched vows are the most beautiful offerings that Mai could ever hope to have in her hands.]
Right, I bet.
[She remembers, of course, that heated threat to keep Mai just out of the arms of sleep, so long as their bodies find themselves entangled in bed again. Mai scoffs humorously at the brief recollection, Cellinia's reminder that she is every bit a wolf in her appetite, as well. That's fineâ not sleeping is favorable to whatever nightmares that would certainly break through, finding a sure way to shatter their reverie. Mai would rather Cellinia drain every last bit of resistance from her bones, not leaving a shred of energy left for any terrible dreams to latch onto and take root. Sure, they can sleep eventually, when it's all they have the strength left to do after their passionate efforts. A dual payout, reallyâ indulging in that sweet ecstasy that Mai has never felt at another's hands before, and basking in the reprieve from the terrors that feed upon a vulnerable mind.
If she could will it, she would hope to dream of only Cellinia, even if her wolf was but a breath away, slumbering sweetly in her arms. But, of course, nothing is better than being able to have her in the waking moments. She'd feast upon her until her mind is full of nothing else but her lover, pushing out the monsters in favor of all of the ways that making love to her would haunt Mai splendidlyâ every kiss and touch, every shudder, those eyes that behold her, and that soothing voice that dedicates every cry and sigh and promise to Mai, and Mai alone.
Even now, she is afflicted by the same cravings that seize her lover. The soft sigh that Cellinia gifts to her in relief at resuming their kisses is responded to with a pleased hum. Addiction is rearing its head again, making her heart quicken with excitement that she gets to be as greedy as she wants, without anyone to stop her. She is most certainly fine in Cellinia's arms, if only because Cellinia won't deny her for a moment.]
Could you, now? That's a scary offer.
[She teases softly, smirking in their kisses while her fingers move to stroke at the back of her lover's head. Gentleness is rather frightening for someone who's only known cold severity. But, she won't refuse itâ she wants it, just like she wants everything she can take from this curiously generous wolf.]
Are you sure it wouldn't be more fun for you to just pick my bones clean, right now?
(absolution may never come, but that was something they both knew was undeserved of them to dare dream and believe theyâd ever be freed of their sins. theyâre starved of love, a drop of it being something they found hard to ignore. to be rid of. the sweet taste of it on their tongues could only damn them further. but that in itself has no argument, there is no room for it. the blood on the lips of the wolf, on her tongue and teeth that would stain their kiss. they can pretend, theyâre far better off pretending that theyâre not as weak as they often felt on occasion. that this wouldnât make them pathetic when the slow realization comes in that there was some manner of spark felt between their love hungry souls. where they find themselves beginning in this new reality to realize they were falling, that theyâve fallen so hard and so fast that itâs not like them. that this must be a joke the world and this fucked up universe has decided to play upon them for their longing.
what they do not know is this only becomes realer with each tick of the clock, every passing second causes them to fall deeper past the line theyâve crossed so readily. disappointment is something venomous in itself, the way that it can wrap around already tired hearts and wear them down further. hearts are interesting, but the way they could make someone feel alive again is another thing in itself. she would allow herself to be damned, damned against everything that clings to them. heaven is what they make it, this freedom she would grant her lover is something they could carefully craft themselves. they needed nobody but their own two hands which were worn and torn apart by everything. these ghosts could only become part of their souls, because as useless as their unsightly hearts are, that meant little to what they found themselves in one another. sheâs what she wished for most, a goddess that knows her pain without them saying it. that something is deeply understood without them knowing.
she gives her something that mai wanted, that love and protection that they hadnât realized. her arms fit around her like a shield, cherished, even in all the greed she has. this is a heart that so rarely is given, granted freely to those that who may get close enough. a heart that has been battered, destroyed, and treated to all the illness within this world. dragged down and threatened to stay in the dark while they could only breathe. they can only pray, hope, that they might find anew kindness that had been ripped away from them. love that they lost, affection that had been cut apart by everything. stomped out embers of being cherished, of what remains of what had been parts of themselves that once lived. once breathed, but she feels alive. the wolf feels it, she even sees it in the way maiâs eyes may light up at the little things done thus far. how she seems so lively, so beautiful when she gets that smug look on her face. how she feels self-assured or tries to be regardless of her lowly views that cellinia did not know about.
now that is true beauty, even as she listens to her and remembers that heated promise. yes, she would have done her job well. sheâd have worn her out thoroughly, into tender dreams where this beast and her hunger chase away nightmares. all the nameless monsters that lie in wait would be no match for her, her bloodstained champion. a black knight instead of a white knight who had been shaped by this wretched world into the beast that she is. still a beast, a wolf and wild. free while promising the same to any woman insane enough to risk themselves to get that far. the right person who would return to her, covered in their blood or allow her that privilege to watch while wiping away their filth from her body. to give into passion there whether she had been injured or not amidst the chaos she gave them for their much larger sins of mistreating this girl. this goddess, princess, and her little red riding hood she has in those ink covered arms.)
One that I mean.
(she murmurs into the kiss, maybe sheâd even push away those nightmares with this alone. gentleness, the haunting of her lips and touch. in both ways sheâd do that. sheâd keep her awake until mai felt ready to give in to slumber, a restful sleep that could only be granted by celliniaâs own rough and worn hands. how theyâd take so very good care of her while she carries on those notes she adores hearing, her voice is another thing cellinia loves to hear. the soft sighs, the hums, and how sheâd moan so prettily when being claimed by this wolf. this beast of hers that would hardly ever find herself satisfied with only that alone.
haunting her is only part of it, the rest? the rest is claiming her properly as hers, whenever that day may come. sheâll mark her nice and proper. with teeth tenderly sinking into her neck and not moving to clamp down further. enough to give her the love only a beast could have. how it might feel to know that she could end her, but doesnât from this love that they know not they felt together since the moment they first kissed. itâs only fitting, fitting that she does that while treating her to what it means to belong to a wolf. to a wild wolf.)
It wouldnât be as worth it if I did that, picking you clean.
(careful, little wolf, you might make her fall for you more with that. or is that the intention without you both realizing? to say that, that you wouldnât want to pick her bones clean and leave. that she would hold her in her arms, treat her so tender and gently that she would never want to leave her den? her bed, even?)
[Oh, they've not a single clue that yes, the universe is indeed enjoying a little laugh from the union of these two forlorn loversâ though not at their expense. No, what it finds most humorous is the slow tipping of the scales once more, a well-deserved vengeance that simmers beneath the surface of a rain-drenched desert, and a love that will dare to resurface the harsh terrain that birthed two terrorized, embittered hearts. It shall delight in watching them fall into the rhythm of this unfamiliar dance, the realization of these shared feelings unfurling at their feet like the prettiest, most poisonous flowers springing to life. For how could the universe look upon their weary hearts with mocking cruelty, when the longing that interlaces these two together is so sweet, sweet enough for even the universe, in its grand infinity, to desire a taste of for itself?
Because it is already so very precious, this commencement of affections that are simply the answers to brokenhearted prayers. If only to assuage their brittle pride, they can pretend that they haven't been yearning for such a connection as much as they'd like to, until the truth of it refuses to be suffocated any longer. It's far too easy to lie beneath the harsh light of the day, after all, and tuck these feelings into the long shadows cast by the sun. But the merciless night strips them of this makeshift defenseâ when everything is bathed in shadow, where else can they hide from the emotions they had hoped to bury and flee from? And now, after the watchful moon has retreated after baring their darkness to one another, can these lovers truly continue to pretend that they can walk away unblemished by the other's thorns?
Ah, but how they shall long for more nights together, after coming to the silent conclusion that one was not nearly enoughâ and yet, how oblivious they are that is the night itself that has ruined them so magnificently. For the kisses they share now are far different than the ones hungrily indulged in yesterday afternoon. The tender words exchanged here carry a different weight than the easy flirtations traded as they satiated their frustrations discreetly in Cellinia's car. And when her wolf wraps her arms around her now, Mai can only feel the profound safety imbued in her throughout their night-long embrace.]
Hmm. It almost sounds to me like you're trying to play the long game, then.
[Doesn't it? Wanting to keep her forever, and treating her gently as she does, rather than sending her back in pieces as soon as she's had her fill. How endearingâ and perhaps Mai does fall just the tiniest bit more, whether or not she's aware of it. There's an unmistakable warmth in her eyes that alights in response to this reassurance, and when she brings their lips closer for another kiss, it is one that lingers more noticeably than those that came before. She can't deny it, that she definitely would have faulted Cellinia terribly if she had decided made a quick meal of Mai, instead. Time and time again, she's had to endure this very decision made for her, but now it slowly dawns on Mai, creeping into the openings of her heart split apart by the beautifully scheming nightâ that she tires of it. She tires of being left behind, of never being enough, of being forced to swallow fear when all she wants is to feel safe. And she tires of always being hurt, while never being loved.
There isn't a doubt in her mind that Cellinia means every word she says. And even if Mai can't bring herself to say it aloud, she believes her. Instinctively, she brings the hand that was upon her lover's leg to her own hip, where she caresses Cellinia's hand, there. That secure feeling burgeons beneath her skin, warming her far better than the heat of the water that envelops them both.]
You're a lot more patient than I would have guessed.
[It goes without saying that Cellinia is patient where Mai is sorely lackingâ though when it comes to that decision that the wolf had placed in her hands, that major decision, it's not a matter of patience on Mai's part. Rather, it's the fear that she still finds herself choking on. Yet if she can burrow in the safety that Cellinia promises, then that fear might someday loosen it's deadly hold on her. This wolf's patience shall be put to the test, but the reward promises to be oh so satisfying.]
I'm still deciding if I like it. But, I guess you're welcome to go on and savor me to your heart's content, until I figure it out.
[One more white lie to be filed awayâ of course she likes it. Mai claims another kiss, a savoring of her own because why let Cellinia have all the fun? Though, Mai craves something deeper, a more intimate connection. This position, though comfortable and sweet, hinders her desire, and so she draws herself forward so that she may shift and face Cellinia properly. Oh, but not even this is enough for herâ she braces her hands on the edge of the tub behind her lover's back while moving to place her knees on either side of Cellinia's hips, straddling her lap. Much better. Now she may kiss her unimpeded, and Mai still wants to lather those cute ears of hers. She can do all of it easily enough, in this position. Yes, they're still behaving⊠]
(behave. itâs a soft reminder, behave. behave as theyâre faced with something theyâve craved for so long that theyâve become numb to it. as the universe delights in their foolishness, at forlorn love and a pair of girls who have suffered the worst it has to offer in differing ways. this world could mock and destroy them further; it would even gleefully watch the way this filth at their ankles sinks them down. engulfing them as it grips on their bodies, dragging into the sand and blood that awaits them everything that it could. this taste it desires could even be perceived as another desire to play with them while they wish more to keep close what precious little theyâve had. cellinia perhaps more than anyone, feels that way about how she would refuse to let go of what semblance of warmth she has. she longed for it, she never wanted to let go again. to lose what she has while struggling grandly against the odds. she pretends with ease that she didnât want this. that the wolf could do without anything deeper, but reality is often crueler and more honest than she could ever be.
those brokenhearted prayers, hope, and desires were futile. pride was something fickle, something that others abused to stomp upon those that were weaker. but itâs suffocating. how could one woman ignore it? much less two, both of them do themselves no favors in their ignorance and damning. they hide their hearts, what remains of them, and long to fill whole underneath it all. yet finding that someone has a steep price, a price perhaps too heavy for their already tired souls. longing destroys, so does letting in someone that would abuse that in a desire to feel love. that love which they so grant one another without realizing, the tender poison while those poisonous flowers in their garden they share lie in wait to one day bloom beautifully into something wicked. something that would never allow in another soul that might try to break it apart. nobody else could enter their world, their world of blood and rain. their world of thorns pricking into their skin as they fall apart to what had been missing, they need not admit that.
because itâs clear as day, they want more than a single night. that night which ruined them without thinking about it could only wait in the background, how it flexes itâs grasp on their minds to sink into them. their kisses, their flirtations, are different from what had been part of an idea that itâs only purely physical. physical love is easier, easier to those who might detach only for it to crush the ones that thirst for more. that are too tired of being used by those around them. itâd suffocate them more to deny that they crave beyond it, but weaknesses would often be used against them in many ways. in celliniaâs old world, itâd even kill those foolish enough to allow themselves to be weak. to open their hearts knowing that the cost is past something that can be paid with money. that could only be paid in blood when love comes into the picture.
she would know it, she denied love to one poor soul who felt it towards her often. for her, it was nothing. a chase of something physical, less than satisfactory. but that was a pair of young girls fooling around, or what could be thought of as along those lines as one woman sought to claim her as her own. it failed, if only because cellinia does not allow herself to be tied down by anyone. she is still wild, still free, but she knows what she thinks she wants. what this wolf wants is seeping into reality from this dreamlike world theyâre within together. she could see that light in maiâs eyes, how it reacts to learning she wonât pick her bones clean and leave. did she get hurt by people who did that often, is something the wolf thinks about for the moment. how much of it was pain caused by others who came into her bed? they must have never treated her with tender love, only a desire to get theirs and leave while offering promises that were never going to be fulfilled by the women that wanted her for the night.
how tired this girl must be to seek out warm affections from a beast who could have just as easily snapped her jaws on her for trying. she does not lash out, she only holds her. a pair of hands comfortably around her waist while offering more warmth than they had ever gave her. the wolf is something sweet in how some might think her words are lies, that she must be searching for a meal. reality as is typical, is not something theyâd consider. she doesnât look at her as a meal between each lingering kiss, the words were something she means in those whispers and vows. the darkly given promises of blood waiting to be spilled if mai gives her wolf and wicked knight the word. itâs instinct that causes her hand to pause its movements to relax in her loverâs hold. the brush of her soft fingers against rough skin, itâs soothing in itself.
warm, protective in how cellinia holds her. reassuring that theyâd both grant this safety to each other that has long since avoided them. patience is something she knows too well, cellinia is patient despite the way she can be hungry for mai to the point of surpassing it. sheâs one of the more calmer predators that someone could ever dream about. willing to wait, willing to allow her to feel more than that fear which grips her by the throat and chokes her. this wolf is offering her goddess quite the rewards if she did decide one day soon to answer that desire for bloody vengeance that has been long overdue for her kin.)
I can be patient, more than I can come off as.
(but thatâs only part of the fun, the wait. the long hunt, she would chase this girl and give her everything that those fools never had. sheâd shower her in affections that only the broken could give, while making more tender love to her the more these nights carry on between them. not just the urge for sex, for something physical, but seeking past that in how their warmth can only be shared between their weary souls. their bitter and jaded hearts which would have wept and called this a mockery of the pain theyâve suffered. she can tell her remark is another lie, another attempt at hiding it. how much she likes it, how much this girl craves it while sitting in her lap and indulging in kisses which theyâd get carried away eventually in sharing. all despite the word given that theyâd both behave long enough to bathe.
the wolf is dragged from her idle thoughts when mai shifts, her hands temporarily parting from her loverâs body while she watches her move to face the wolf proper. amber eyes land again on hazel, the two of them face to face while her little red riding hood straddles her. itâs instinct that causes cellinia to wrap her arms back around her, to rest one along her back while the other returns to itâs spot against her hip. between the kiss her lover takes, and how she savors it. cellinia reminds herself again, she must behave, but it feels impossible from the line before their eyes. how misbehaving is a temptation that is dangling without issue, waiting for them to step over it and fall again.)
Iâd always wait. Thatâs not even something I could deny.
[Cellinia can see it clearly, can't she? The miasma of listlessness towards life that weeps from Mai's spirit and threatens to suffocate any pure-hearted fool who would never know her burdens. How perceptive the big bad wolf has always been, with her keen eyes that do not fail to catch the threads weariness in the bearing of this proud girl who dared to stroll into her den. And Mai is no fool, her own heart so terribly wicked, that she doesn't think that Cellinia is unable to see what she conceals from most with her uninviting exterior and acerbic tongue. That she cannot feel the way that Mai comes to life again from being held like the treasure she might have been in another life. Even if those precious eyes might still will themselves to be ignorant of love's advent, they can be privy to nearly everything elseâ is it not what this stubborn girl wishes for, at her lonesome depths, to be truly seen for every sorry facet she wears? That her body could be more than merely a means to an end, and beheld for the beautiful cage it is, one where her true longings are condemned to wither and perish?
It's funny, how much easier physical love alone can be. That any amorous pair can simply bare their bodies to one another, not an ounce of love required for the way they'll give and take in their passions. All they would need are lips to bite and feast, hands to grab and possessâ but only for a spell, because what is a claim without love, other than a pleasure that is just as fleeting as any other that can be grasped at in this life? Cellinia can think of her past dalliances as being nothing, for Mai certainly will of her ownâ nothing but an escape from the inescapable, the anguish that is never too far behind. Yet, what they have now, together, is certainly far from nothing. When they pressed their bodies together, the wounds of their heart practically wept in relief, the blood of their painful short years mingling like a most poisonous curse.
But isn't the yearning for a love that can only be paid for with tainted blood such a marvel? How could it be anything other than the highest price and the highest honor? Surely, both Mai and Cellinia have witnessed such currency change hands before, if only from their family's dealings, legitimate or otherwise. They were two well-pedigreed young women, raised in the grandeur of acclaimed lineages whose wealth of achievements were held before them as examples of how they ought to prove their worth. Every honor and every accolade that could ever matter in their critical eyes has a priceâ and generously-spilled blood would triumph every time.
That it should be no different for this budding romance of theirs, is something that these lovers can leave out of their thoughts, for now. Their hands are still unsullied, as they brush against one another's affectionately beneath the water.]
You're a humble one, aren't you?
[Yes, she's plenty aware that her wolf is merely stating an unadorned truth, but the teasing still falls from her well-kissed lips easily enough. A truthfulness slithers beneath the banterâ Mai can forgive that Cellinia's patience far exceeds her own, but she refuses to accept a humility that is unbecoming of a beast so magnificent. The image of her wolf's lifeless eyes is irrevocably seared into her mind, after all. She can hardly fathom what atrocities had caused you to fall to such depths, Cellinia, but she can certainly believe that whatever strength it took to claw out of that abyss is worth the dignity that it deserves. So what, if even this pride is one that puts her own fragile ego to shame? One day, even Cellinia with her perceptive eyes, can see that Mai has long-since accepted that her own self-assurance would forever pale in the face of those whose tenacity she'd quietly admire.]
I guess I'll have to watch you carefully, hm? Do you think I can learn a thing or two, then?
[About nurturing a patience that could keep her impulsive nature at bay for as long as they decide to be involved with each other. Sardonically, she laughs again, their lips but a hairsbreadth apart between these soft kisses. Perhaps she means it only in jest, teasing the possibility of being a good enough student for once in her life to learn a virtue that seemed ill-placed in her character to begin withâ a goddess, sitting at the feet of her own devotee. How amusing she finds you, sweet wolf, that she would flirt with the idea of following your example and taking a lesson in patience, of all things, from a beast. Let patience remain the folly of humans, along with humilityâ but Cellinia does wear both so attractively.
She draws back from their kisses, already impatient for more, and already accepting that she could never, ever truly cloak herself in such a virtue for the sake of handling these curious new feelings with the gentleness one would expect. Her hands stroke along Cellinia's ears againâ can't she ever get enough, greedy girl?â and over her steam-dampened hair, until they find themselves cupping her jaw. Mai looks down at her from this position, and the thoughts of her lover's strange perfection tumble in her mind. There are the parts of her that are frightening, that would give any sane person pauseâ her wolfish features and the canvas of her flesh sporting well-storied tattoos and scars. Then there are aspects of her that are rather adorable, those same sharp ears that give Mai the sweetest reactions when she indulges in her impulse to play with them. And there are the parts that Mai finds utterly arrestingâ Cellinia's beauty, her eyes so reverent, and the siren song that her dark heart beckons to Mai with. How could all of this be hers, be Mai's? The laws of this universe must be breaking, broken, just as they had been the moment she took her first breath.
Mai keeps these thoughts to herself, of course, as her thumbs caress idly at Cellinia's cheeks, but the silence has gone on a beat too long for her to hide these thoughts behind a snarky remark or another greedy kiss. Could this be another mistake, that she lets her walls fall a bit more, this way? That she doesn't make the effort to distract Cellinia from her mind's wandering with another good-natured barb? Perhaps what she wishes to do next might count as a distractionâ though more for herself, than anything. She reaches for one of the shampoo bottles she had lined up, and with her free hand, rubs at one of Cellinia's ears again.]
Let me�
[A question only asked out of the courtesy of voicing her intentions. Much like the other times she has played the well-mannered young miss (a joke, for she was only ever passable at best), she lets the facade crumble upon itself in favor of letting her true amusement shine through.]
(it isnât difficult, not for someone like her thatâs gone through it to recognize that. the listlessness, going through the motions in everything presented to her. like death could come at any time, and she didnât care for anything more than if itâd be sooner rather than later. thereâs something unique in it. something that can draw attention when life is breathed into those that were at the edge of being utterly broken. falling to pieces and becoming nothing more than empty shells of what they once were in their respective lives, of formerly innocent girls that had become worn down by the world rapidly. sheâs good at noticing it, perceptive in most things. itâs impossible for her to not know after having first-hand experience in it. playing ignorant never was cellinia in some ways, she didnât like to. not when she looks at this girl like a goddess, a treasure for her. theyâre both lonesome souls, unable to help the way their longing can both damn and free them. ever-growing while reaching through those cracks in their thorn covered cages for something beautiful. try as they may to snuff it out, it never worked. it rarely did, cellinia would tell herself often letting down her guard is a bigger weakness yet she finds herself unable to help it. here, in her arms while their minds wander in thought about this feeling they canât explain. this love colored feeling that doesnât go away while they pretend that it isnât any further past physical.
physical love, it could be easier. not to think too much, to touch and consume then move on while pretending they would be fine. that something more was not worth the effort in their lives while ignoring that spark, the spark which struck between them. sometimes people might find it easier to act as though that never happened, cellinia can be guilty of it knowing her past with one person. she wonât think much about it with the number of people mai might have been hurt by with the expectation of desiring more, of wanting more than a single night only for it to go ignored by those she cried out to silently. this is more than that nothing they gave her, their bodies fit together nicely and that poison of love they ignore mingles through their veins. in their blood, their hearts, how far down could it go? might it reach their souls? rot them further in love and venom that could only be shared in a curse as ruinous as this that theyâve cast upon one another?
exchanges like this, promised with tainted blood and love are always dangerous, risky. watching as grown men give up their lives for this, their honor and their everything like theyâve realized they amount to nothing without it. without love, theyâre nothing. without the object of their desire, theyâre worthless. worthless fools who could only be strung about like puppets dancing for those that might even find their pain funny, how far theyâre willing to go or if theyâd pay the ultimate price for the honor bestowed upon them. as girls of their pedigree, itâs only natural theyâve seen it themselves. how love ruins and destroys them. how anything could destroy people from their respective worlds, prices were paid at a large cost and they would know it. because theyâve seen it so often, cellinia herself has. even in the world of plays that she had been dragged to by another friend in her childhood that wished to indulge in the arts. that saw herself as a playwright as time went on with the desire to write them. but cellinia did not care for wealth, the grandeur of it. she saw throwing it around as pointless.
blood might be spilled, eventually. their hands could not remain clean forever, yet thatâs a given. for a romance like theirs, there would be no innocence. no fairy-tale could compare to what this story would bring them. theyâd make them all pale in comparison to it, to their own lives which twist and turn. that the darkly given vows would only grow further as they keep falling harder, more for this goddess before the wolf and this wolf before her. but enough about that, their hands are more busy in tender affections given to one another as they lounge in the bath.)
Mm, Iâm not one for bragging.
(arrogance was never her thing, what they get instead is cold truth. the atrocities of the past were many, none good. nothing sheâd ever mention when their lips part briefly, barely any space is there between them. humility is something imparted in her. something that she never let go of even once, her strength is only in part due to her own resolutions. her decision in knowing what she could have had happened. had she gone another way, she would have been lost. maybe she might show you, mai, how far sheâs willing to go for you. how much sheâs willing to give in her own desire to push out of despair. despair, death, and blood that had grown to be a common occurrence. tenacity that she held like it was something her life depended on whenever cellinia had begun to piece herself together again. this strength, however, is not easy to obtain, and she recognizes that. not everyone has it in them to keep going after what sheâs gone through. breaking from a cycle is never easy.)
Maybe. Thatâs if you want to.
(if she wants to be a good student, maybe this wolf can show her goddess so much more. plenty more than their respective worlds could have given her. they didnât deserve to have these delights that she would give mai, the romance and how sheâd touch her. the gifts she gives her goddess that sits comfortably in her lap while she stops her head from wandering into less than chaste thoughts from their closeness. she finds you endearing, beautiful goddess, knowing that would be a struggle. she wouldnât make you learn these lessons unless you desired it. a lesson in which theyâd both find themselves taking their time more. but, mai wears impatience so well. as she does, her smugness, her pride. cellinia finds them both attractive parts of her love to the point of often saying it.
ah, even cellinia wants more kisses whenever they part again. she doesnât look away, not from her lover with those reverent eyes. how they stare so full of devotion once more. those ears of hers twitch into the strokes of soft fingers while her wolf starts to melt again to the touch theyâre granted. they do (of course) droop in disappointment to her hands leaving again. fickle things that delight in the affection she gives them, but she canât divert her gaze. cellinia finds herself getting lost in her, in her eyes while their poor darkened hearts call out to one another. a demand and a wish for this love theyâve been starved of for so long. this girl, she wants to make her so badly into hers. only hers. theyâd never stop her if cellinia had her say, not even the universe would prevent her from that desire. the broken rules of it could burn, too.
she neednât think too much while leaning into her loverâs hands, a kiss pressed to the palm of one at first while maiâs thumbs rub into fair cheeks. the distraction of her hand going back to her ears is helpful, to deter any other thoughts from breaching into their dream. reality being pushed away again while cellinia melts to maiâs hand giving her ears attention. the ear she strokes happily twitches into it while her wolf nuzzles against her hand. how cute of her, before her attention falls back on the now. on mai speaking and holding that bottle, this is another privilege not so easily granted. touching her ears, theyâre sensitive, you know? because of that, thereâs only one thing that can be said. knowing that mai has earned this rarest of privileges.)
Go ahead, Mai, touch them as much as you want to. Be careful, they can be sensitive....
(setting herself up for future trouble, but itâs apparent that her ears are sensitive. her tail even is in a certain spot, were mai to reach for the base and stroke at it more. aside from the typical with not wanting it pulled roughly or too hard. that would make her bite any poor bastards that went that far.)
[For all of the expectations that their families had placed upon them, it seems as if these world-weary lovers are faring much more successfully in their unique quest for a meaningful honor, compared to their powerful kinsmen who so readily give into viciousness for the sake of a blood-stained glory. Those foolishly proud warriors shall dance upon their strings, veritable puppets in the hands of shadowy figures who only ever intend to maintain the status quo. Even Mai, mired in sin as she is, can recognize that chasing family honor is tantamount to chasing one's own demise. And she has stopped wishing that it wasn't so, even if it means that she'll live with the secret fear that the other half of her heart might one day stop beating for good because of this futile pursuit. Why can't love be enough to stem such an arrogance? Yet Mai has known so pitifully little of it in her short life, that even she can often be swayed by how easy it is to eschew such a frivolous emotion in favor of accolades that merit boasting.
Though, of course bragging isn't Cellinia's style. Another hallmark of one who has found their rhythm in an otherwise ruthless world. Her life can speak for itself, the untethered way she lives her days. And whoever she answers toâ for doesn't everyone answer to someone, no matter how free one is?â must not leash her all that tightly, if at all. That alone might be something brag-worthy, if Cellinia would ever give herself the indulgence.
Really, what else does boasting serve, other than a way to fill a bothersome and profound emptiness with lofty words? As much as she loathes it, Mai can recognize this in her own attitude, a compulsion she doesn't even bother fighting. There are quite a few aspects of her life that she is reluctant to challenge, aren't there? Like the chains of her bloodline shackling her tightly to the source of her own despair, knowing she'll return no matter how badly she might hope to flee. Still, despite being so love-starved and afraid to sever her own bonds, something in the way Cellinia watches her dares to reinforce the possibility that she can still deserve to be rebuilt after she shatters apart for this affection. Maybe she can't be patient, or humble, or even strong enough to hold her ownâ but could she be something to be loved forever? What would she have to do, what would she have to change, for her to truly be certain of it? What a questionâ she thought she had long since grown tired of asking it.
Mai is painfully aware, that if she wished to be anything different, she would just be a sorry imitation of the brilliant examples of true freedom around her, right? It's hard enough to fathom becoming a better iteration of her sorry self, joking suggestions aside. Cellinia's nonchalant reply makes it clear that she doesn't wish to impress any change that Mai isn't willing to make. Another thing this wolf recognizes, surely, is that her own tenacity is in a class unparalleled.]
It's always, 'if you want you,' with you.
[There isn't any real gravity in the frustration within this remark, but it would be a lie if Mai didn't find herself struggling a bit with the freedom of choice that Cellinia never fails to offer her. Surely it's nothing more than generosity, a marked lack of pushiness that is otherwise commonplace in Mai's life. Her keen wolf might even be able to see that it's still difficult to shake old habitsâ ones that have Mai drawn to easy decisions, a path she doesn't need to think too hard about because everything is already outlined for her. She hates it, of course, hates every decision she has been powerless to stop. And maybe she hates that she can see a divergence in this structured path, now, one that Cellinia's influence creates for her, whether her lover is aware of this or not.
If Mai is fortunate, this perceptive wolf might not be able to sense her trepidation at taking the first step upon this forked road. She'll dare to turn away from the familiar, and reach into the haze of hushed promises and a warmth that she might happily let burn her alive.]
Oh, I know they are.
[She murmurs, her palm tingling from the kiss Cellinia gives her there. Mai knows that those ears are rather sensitive to touch, especially those of a more tender nature. How adorable, that they so clearly miss her fingers when they droop the second that they're bereft. It's such an easy affection to give, that Mai is only too happy to do so. The sight, the feel of Cellinia nuzzling into her touch as soon as she resumes is something that Mai cherishes with obvious pleasure. Her eyes light up at the permission given. It's far better than a mere 'Yes, go ahead,' or some other dry manner of approval. Cellinia makes it plain that Mai has the special privilege of touching as much as she wants to, so long as she does so with care.]
Don't worry, I'll be nice and gentle for you.
[She'll coo it almost suggestively, though she'll no doubt keep her word. Let not the sparkle of mischief in her eyes give the impression of any hidden, wicked intentions. Mai will be good, and she'll show you that she's just as capable of behaving, Cellinia. Yes, she can be a surprisingly good girl when she has something that she wants to proveâ a worthiness, in this case, of handling something so delicate. It's fitting, for her hands were never meant for the harshness of battle or gruesome slaughtering. Mai would much rather have luxurious, plush sensations beneath her fingertips. In another lifetime, she supposes, if she had been born the talented niece of the family head, instead of the disappointment she ended up being. A pointless cycle of terrible thoughtsâ Mai is perfectly fine making do with what she has before her, now. The beautiful, soft ears of a strangely patient wolf are quite the consolation prize, no? One might think them better than any finery she might have enjoyed had her position in life been any less dismal. She can do it, Mai believesâ she can return the favor and treat Cellinia like she herself is a treasure.
Who can say, this might be a rare privilege for the wolf to have for herself, a sweeter Mai that so few are ever so lucky to experience. And the others who have been witness to this side of her aren't without scratches and bruises from her callous natureâ ah, but Cellinia has earned herself a fair handful of her own, hasn't she? Though, of a far different natureâŠ
No matter, Cellinia has asked her to treat her carefully, and so Mai shall do just that. Slowly, she scoops handfuls of water gently over her ears and hair, stroking her head gently whenever her palm is empty. She takes particular care not to spill anything over her lover's face or past the protective fluff of the wolfish ears, humming thoughtfully to herself periodically as she carries out her task. It's an exercise in tenderness, one that she thinks herself clumsy at despite doing well enough. She wants more chances, after all, of enjoying those sweet ears that twitch happily for her.
One satisfied, Mai pours a bit of shampoo between her hands and begins to lather it at Cellinia's crown to start. The soft fragrance fills the steamy air between them, a scent that Mai wouldn't mind breathing in deeply whenever she cuddles against her lover next. Her fingers then ease the bubbles over the slick fur of Cellinia's ears, and a rather agreeable smile plays upon her lips as she gets to indulge in this little act of grooming. She only half-stifles a laugh at how darling Cellinia looks like this, with the dark fur contrasting against the pale foam.]
(fighting for oneâs own family was only a slippery slope that could worsen at any time, giving up everything for love and their honor was another thing in itself. men would die gladly for one kiss that was rarely if ever granted to them, women would cry themselves to sleep and die broken as they lose what they once held as precious to them. there isnât any coming back from that, not the pain that would be suffered for their efforts. blood would fall upon them like rain while the taint of it drowns them in an unending storm. would it be worth it? the answer is a mystery. worth is decided by those who live, the survivors of their once dreary hell they came from. blood does little for those that were in true agony, the ones that leave are always those who are stronger and willing to destroy what they had to as a means of living behind their past. destroy it all, burn it away down to nothing but ashes remaining. death is granted freely for those willing to stop a woman or man that has nothing left to lose. standing in their way does little more than anger them, make them kill the fools that were willing to try interrupting. to try and force them away back into the fold against their very wills. thatâs even why lone wolves exist, lone wolves like this beautiful and handsome one that falls into an easy rhythm presented before her. love itself is an arrogant thing, saying it knows better while also swaying those under that venomous spell to give up everything that makes them for it.
that love is all theyâd ever need in this cruel world. she steps about with her world unrestrained, alive. nothing could stop her and not even her boss cares to do such a thing, if she was still breathing and alive, then who was he to stop that? her indulgences were a part of her living, just the same way that she offers a chance at holding the leash to an animal such as herself. that wolf who allows herself calmly to wait until that day her teeth would be stained in blood and the blood of those who sullied a goddess. the taint of it being something that would never wash away easily. not as long as she breathes, not as long as they seek to hurt this poor lonesome girl.
how is that not something worthy of bragging about? look at this beautiful beast, this beast which mai has in her hands. she can hold her, she can touch her as she pleases. even watch as this beast brings the world to her, at her feet and held out as an offering from this disgraceful and sinful knight. her sins which would never be absolved, used as a means of entangling them further into one another. their souls mingling, their hearts holding tightly on to what is dangled out before them. why wouldnât they? they longed for love, they ignore it so desperately without knowing that itâs too late for them to step away from what it deemed to be their time. this sweetness that would suffocate and drown them together in rain and blood. let that garden bloom, the venomous flowers of poison and darkly whispered vows. change is not something the wolf would force upon her goddess, but she would surely be there in their eternal vows as the one thatâd never leave her side. that sheâd surrender to her love as a means of showing her that she may rebuild the same way this broken mess of a woman before the little goddess did. the answer to her questions would take time, and cellinia herself could not answer them for her.
she recognizes not the way mai hesitates to take the first step, but this is a dance of two. in harmony, they must step about, they must dance and move the way the rhythm before them dictates. or the way that cellinia might bring them both true freedom in how she grants these choices, allowing her more than the suffocating feeling of oppression that came from the forced decisions of monsters that felt it necessary to press upon this girl their ideas. their means of calling agony to her tired mind and body could only be considered another mark to the list of misdeeds that were committed to this girl. all which would be paid in blood when the time comes, if ever, for such a thing to be done by her willing knight. when she said that this choice is maiâs own, she means it. humility is not something cellinia expects of her, truly, she expects this girl to be whatever she feels her true self must be. be it that goddess who in all her pride stands above the men and women, the wretched bastards who did this to her as being absolved of their damnation or as the little red riding hood who wants to be whisked away by a wolf.
cellinia means the words âif you want toâ as placing upon mai freedoms that were never granted to her, not without the intention of abusing it for whatever choice they felt she made wrong. her lover may not be aware of it, not of how her presence causes her goddess to have her perception changed, but itâs interesting. the way that she breaks the maze to pieces while giving mai more ways to traverse it. showing her each path, her pace set about on a slow trail while calling out from hidden shortcuts or walls that cellinia destroyed personally. thatâs only fitting she did, she has that way about her. dancing along while pausing in her wild steps, the steps of a storm called a beast and woman, to treat a girl with tenderness that she never once had in her life.
theyâll burn, theyâll fly, theyâll drift away under the sea granted them. this is their roads, their maze, and their own paths to take. nobody would take away from mai this chance if cellinia could help it, cellinia might even go as far as to give to her everything her battered heart has held itself together with. if it means that she never does without again, sheâd do that. those are promises given under the moon that would be upheld in the most tender of ways if the wolf were to eventually swear it to her.)
Thought youâd notice.
(because thatâs clear, her ears are sensitive things. she murmurs it in kind, amber eyes looking up at her lover through her lashes. she must look lovely, making eye contact like this while her ears seem happy with the attention theyâre getting. cellinia doesnât just nuzzle into anyone the way she does maiâs hand, she doesnât let any random person touch those cute ears of hers. she also doesnât give them the permission that sheâs granted mai, either. granting her free rein over them and the opportunity to touch them to her hearts content as a delight that can be kept between them. ah, her goddess lit up brighter at how she granted her those words. how it makes cellinia want to kiss her again. deeply, soft, and melting. sheâs not, if only because they did need to behave for the moment, long enough to finish this bath.)
Iâll kiss you plenty if you do....
(the words flow out, a soft murmur and purr in the sweet offering. that near suggestive coo almost lights her on fire again, sheâs going to watch closely now, mai. those soft hands are her favorite part of her lover, although, cellinia might remark, all of her is lovely. those hands and her voice are especially, her lips are another. how they seem to call out to her, the kiss of them being a beautiful song that coaxes from the wolf such wonderful notes. the wolfâs fluffy ears sit patiently, a near twitch of them at the attention theyâre getting. that must be a rarity for this part of the wolf, then. from how prickly she is, it would take considerable time to get near touching them. another thing for mai to feel pride in of her own, who can say that they get to freely touch the ears of a beast? not many, or perhaps nobody else could. that mai wants to try and treat cellinia like a treasure is fine with her wolf, too. sheâll have to spoil her further in return, be it by making tender love with her again on their altar or more chaste moments of calm in their weary lives.
she appreciates it, how mai gives cellinia a gift of her own in what she offers in a quiet moment. amber eyes follow those hands she would kiss along plenty, until mai reaches for the water to wet along the fur of her sharp ears. the wolf relaxes beneath her, her head tilted slightly back to help her goddess in her own want to be tender with her wolf.
her hums are what cellinia focuses on, for now. cute, is something she thinks to herself. clumsy attempts or not, theyâre welcomed attempts at tender affection. enough that her ears twitch along idly to gentle rubs of her head. cellinia for her part is rubbing maiâs back again, slowly, affection given and returned during the task at hand while theyâre in a more comfortable moment of love and care. sheâll wash her loverâs back in return for this, as another step between them in a moment of domestic bliss that never once could have been granted to them.
for a moment, celliniaâs eyes close, but not without her stoic expression softening into something relaxed. like sheâs melting to her loverâs touch at the scent of lavender shampoo filling the air, a soft and soothing scent. those ears of hers, they twitch again into maiâs capable fingers before relaxing. perhaps she might even look far too adorable for someone that could end lives without a second thought, especially after those lovely eyes open half-lidded at the sound of laughter from her lover. the melody of it, half-stifled or not, grabbing the wolfâs attention with the single word uttered. âcuteâ.)
[Is it delicious, Cellinia, the freedom with which you've painted your new life? Every breath taken, every day spent roaming as you please? That this wolf would offer herself upon a leash for an untrained hand to take is a rather curious thing. For the girl she presents herself in such a way is herself tethered to a master, conditioned with commands and accustomed to her own manner of discipline. What does Mai know of commanding an animal wild enough to make her dreams come true with but a word? What does she know of control, other than what she has lived under the yoke of a prestigious name? Any semblance of control she might have tasted is superficial at best, haughty and untrained. Mai can barely command herselfâ and she certainly hasn't fared well when it comes to attempting as much towards anyone who means anything to her. By accepting Cellinia's leash, holding it firm, does it loosen Mai's own? And if it slips from her hand, would it only choke her all the more?
But if Mai should decide to never loose her precious wolf upon the monsters who wouldn't hesitate to ripe her to shreds themselves, perhaps this leash could at least tether to her side for as long as she wishes. Forever, if her heart could even fathom an eternity that would desire her uninspired existence. Yet it's true, they have made eternal vows without even considering the gravity of their wordsâ a leash of its own, binding them to the mistress of destiny. The dark longings that stew in their hearts only make these vows all the more concrete, even if these lovers can only see the dark waves of misery rushing over their feet. Believing themselves unable to grasp this pact, this budding love, neither realize that it is love that grasps them. That it speaks to Mai through Cellinia's promise and her wordless devotion, and that speaks to Cellinia through Mai's loneliness, her desperation to be kept safe.
Who shall they be, in the end? A broken soul might not see the choices held out to them, might not see them as true paths meant for them to follow. So who shall these two become, the longer they dance in one another's arms, to the rhythm of Fate, the melody of love that builds ever-slowly as they find their footing? Would they waltz to the hymn dedicated to a proud goddess and her most ardent follower, who pays her tribute in the blood of tormentors? Or would theirs be a simple little tune, a lullaby telling of how this little red riding hood remained in the depths of the forest with her wolf, leaving behind her quest in favor of freedom? Cellinia, world-worn as she is, recognizes that this is what waits at the end of the maze she deconstructsâ freedom. To claim it, all Mai needs to do is allow her own eyes to adjust to something greater than the narrow path of certain despair, and take that hand held out to her.
What her eyes take in at this moment, though, is enough to assuage the fear of traversing this maze. Cellinia watching Mai from beneath her dark lashes, how she moves and caresses her ears, as if there was nothing more interesting in this world than her. Watching her hands, and promising her kisses for a considerate touch. And what a promise that is, how easy it is for her generous wolf to offer such rewards. Mai doesn't respond to that promise right away with words, rather, a knowing grin as she holds Cellinia's head tenderly, dipping her head low enough to steal a quick kiss before she's finished with her task. Hasn't she already earned it, though? She can tell that Cellinia is all too keen on laying claim to her lips again.]
Hmph. You want to kiss me plenty, already.
[And the feeling is mutual, can it be any more obvious? For now, though, they'll simply have to make do with letting their hands fulfill what their lips cannot. At first, Mai arches slightly in response to Cellinia's palms running slowly along her back, before quickly easing into how soothing it feels. It feeds the fire of her own yearnings, too, you know. How she longs to press her body fully against her lover's, drape her arms about her neck and do more than sneak a single kiss. But, that would veer dangerously into 'misbehaving' territory, wouldn't it? They'd never make it out of the tub. Mai would be fine with that.
The dance they take part in now is merely a warm-upâ it's so very important to be good when it's called for, if only so they can be as bad as they please afterward. Can their kisses stay just kisses, once they begin again? It's difficult to say for certain, with how they've discovered how splendid it is to bury themselves in a blissful affection that simply doesn't exist out there, in that dreary outside world. What began as a hunger for something purely carnal now begins to cloak itself in something soft and caring, forgiving in how they wordlessly absolve one another of sins they dare not yet share.
Here, together while they still have daylight to take advantage of, they can cleanse one another of the stains that mar them. Here, Mai can comb her soapy fingers through Cellinia's hair, admiring how silkily it catches the light before she works the foam along the strands. They really do have to tidy up, and why not help one another out a little? Cellinia is more than welcome to assist Mai however she desiresâ whenever Mai has decided that she's gotten her fill of playing with her cutely twitching ears. Not yet, not yet, and she'll not conceal her mirth at Cellinia's curiosity.]
Mm-hmm.
[There's no denying it, or even trying to justify herself at this fact. Cellinia is very cute, especially like this, head tipped back and eyes half-open and watching Mai's little amusement at it. Is it a word that she's only heard a handful of times to describe her? How sadâ though Mai can't bring herself to pity the ones who might've missed the chance to compliment her for being so agreeable beneath them.]
And if you're going to tell me that you'd rather be scary, don't. Because I don't like scary things at all.
[Doesn't Cellinia want to be liked by her? Mai's tone seems to convey this cheeky remark beneath her declaration, though they both know that they want the other to like themâ and they both know that they already do.]
(freedom can be sweet, but there is something in living in it that can be lonely without someone at the side of those who freed themselves from the hell they once were part of. loneliness is its own poison, the way it can dull them and make them into shells of themselves that rot away from the solitude. that feeling that someone wonât ever know about that struggle, the way they no longer felt like they had a place in the world. that they stuck out in many ways for not having something tie them down any longer. would freedom ever be worth it? sheâs free, free to live the way that she never could have in that familiga. freed from the tiredness that had a weight on her shoulders for so long, but she offers this. a chance and itâs rarity being the biggest prize any girl like them could have asked for. that would be, to hold the proverbial leash of a wild animal. an offering both peculiar and, in its own way, a different honor that could have been given to her. she grants you freedoms you never had before, mai. choices she can make, things she might have in her hands for herself.
everything that family had stripped away of her might become a distant memory if thatâs her decision, be it to leave them or end them. this is a gift of devotion, of worship and darker longings. promises uttered that nobody sane would consider. eternity isnât enough, not for the broken souls like theirs. with or without considering the gravity of their vows uttered underneath a moonlit night, what good did overthinking it do? it did nothing. what cellinia does is take fate into her own hands, her way. it may threaten to rip her to shreds, it might even one day kill her as fast as she came into this world. they give out love their worn down souls had longed for.
they embrace misery and wash it away in absolution. they break away maze walls and loneliness to a truth they do not face. that is love. budding romance, a budding love would both make and unmake them. at the end of it, they didnât need anything more than that while they breathed. while they danced under the moonlight, fate is nothing and neither is destiny in the arms of a lover. like those stories, the fairy tales that they both have long since stopped believing in when they proved to be fake in their longing for something to change. the only difference being one girl took it upon herself to force the change she had been after, the other has given up to the nameless devils that torment her and more in a desire for them fade away. for what might one day be vindication, or perhaps even release from their grasp in true freedom while they disappear off to somewhere theyâd never find her again.
isnât it always so obvious? she has a craving for her lips that has yet to fade, that hasnât stopped since their first kiss. how she can kiss this girl so tenderly, how she can kiss her in a breathless and graceless mess while their bodies are pressed tight together. they donât need reality, either. not as long as theyâre together. reality is only something that both girls can make their own in the way they desire it. though one might be more experienced in that than the other after her hard-earned freedom from a life she found herself hating more. as she lived it, she found herself so tired. so full of anger at the audacity, the way that it destroyed those around them for only a desire to live themselves. it crushed them, it ended them. but enough about that, what she has her eyes on is something real. something in her grasp without realizing when she hums softly into the stolen kiss and tender grasp of her head.
as expected, her desire is always going to be evident in that regard.
the smile is all the sweeter, how her goddess leans more into her body and melts at her hands tender affections. mai was right, theyâd not make it out of the tub if she did. did cellinia care? no, she didnât. sheâd touch her more for that, sheâd decorate her collar in fresher marks and kisses while their bodies near mingle together. to allow the world to fade away for a little longer in each touch and brush of their skin, each nip of teeth along sensitive places. each kiss given delicately as they please or tenderly on both blemished and unblemished flesh. their bodies are something they can lay claim on. something that theyâd mark themselves as theirs in this prelude. this dance theyâre doing together of many throughout their lives with their partner being another weary soul who makes them feel home.
their sins arenât worth that effort of considering, they didnât need the attention. attention that they both seem more keen on giving to one another, knowing their kisses would rarely stay only a kiss for long is only part of it. burying themselves in this warmth is more than worth the effort of their tired souls to keep going. because their sins could stay far away in this embrace, their hearts could feel something more than the dreadful weight that drags them down off into bottomless pits, until that hand offered by both sides reached out further. into the maze, into the bottomless pit of their lives.
sheâll do whatever mai needed her to do when her lover gets her fill, of those cute ears that happen to be twitching for her when her fingers brush against their fur. the fluff of them, even. she does clean up nicely, donât you think? so far, anyway. between that and how the black and red strands of her hair is something smooth in itself. soft and easy to run her fingers along through, to card them and play with it as a more chaste distraction to their constant want of one another.
itâs only another thing, another part of themselves that they grant when cellinia catches the mirth in maiâs eyes. how itâs genuinely cuter of her than the wolf. it suits her more, the twinkle of mischief, of something softer in a normally prickly girl that wears her edges like a suit of armor. but can the wolf be blamed for her curiosity? sheâs hardly ever been called this seriously. cute, that is.)
Mm? I donât need to be scary with you.
(another crack, another serious remark. what good was frightening her lover? she did want her to stay, she wanted her near. cellinia didnât need to be scary for her, she didnât even want to drive her away from her arms. if anything, she wanted more than that enough that her greed might be the scary part while she sits calmly for her lover. allowing her to take in this cute sight of her melting, to see her at ease and compliant.
thatâs another sweeter prize in itself, one that theyâd never know about. the words whispered, the promises, and how cellinia gets flushed pink at such words. faint, but she canât hide it from mai. itâs doubtful that she ever could for long knowing the way she tends to get underneath the surface and how cellinia presents herself.)
[To see just how deeply damaged one was from the rot of loneliness, is to feel the stinging discomfort of those old wounds being soothed by the gentleness of companionship. She cannot speak for Cellinia, but Mai's own memories of relaxing so freely like this have been buried under the weight of countless disappointments. Such comforts were withheld from her to begin with, though she'd steal any chance she could back in those long-gone childhood days. They seemed so distant to her, as wellâ a different lifetime ago, the anchor loosened and setting her adrift upon an merciless ocean. Even now, though she might sometimes find herself sharing a bath with her classmates after a grueling bout of lessons, she still can't reclaim that innocence, that freedom she once clung to in the shackles of her old life. It was all differentâ there was no mirror of herself any longer in Kyoto. Her family had stripped that from her too, hadn't they? But that just might be something that Cellinia could never retrieve again for her, no matter what promises she'd make.
Yet, in a way, Mai can recognize the slivers of what she seeks, dancing in the shadows where her lover's vows lurk in the meantime. Because Cellinia isn't her mirror, no. Whenever her hazel eyes trail over her, drinking in every inch with an unsatisfied curiosity, everything upon the surface reminds her that this wolf is far from being her reflection. But in a way, is there not a novel manner of comfort to be found in this simple fact? Cellinia needs not be exactly what Mai seeksâ but rather, something far greater than what she might have ever fathomed. She doesn't know it now, of course, the two of them still fresh in this bizarre affair of theirs, yet Mai can be perceptive, as well. A force of habit from the life she needed to survive. This, too, is something she'll have to surviveâ this new feeling that will almost certainly tear her heart into the prettiest of pieces to be put back together again
Taking care of her lover with these chaste little touches are a fine distraction from the gravity of what this all really means, anyway. Mai's hands leave those happily twitching ears in favor of soaping up the rest of Cellinia's hair, laying sections of sudsy strands over her shoulders and covering her lovely and bitten bosom as she finishes them. White bubbles clinging to the black-red locks dissolve into the water as soon as the ends kiss the surface. It'll all get washed off, eventually, but this only adds to the cute image of the wolf sitting patiently beneath herâ her hair half-covered in the foam of the sweet-smelling shampoo, the bulk of it coating her fluffy ears like airy little clouds. Oh, but the sweetest part of this is that unmistakable flush gracing her cheeks. Faint or not, Mai gleefully takes pleasure in this sight, feeling like she's getting exactly what she wants. Spoiled girl, really.]
Well, that's a relief.
[As always, the soft mocking in her voice is thinly-veiled. Maybe she is a tad relieved, though, hearing it from Cellinia's lips. Her honest little wolf, reminding her once again that their time spent with one another is not a spell of false benevolence, concealing what nature would otherwise dictate of a beast. But it's her blushing that betrays the most, an expression wholly unbefitting of someone who might have intended to act every bit the frightening encounter for a petulant girl. Cellinia openly declares that she harbors no such intentionsâ and this only makes her all the more charming. Enough so that Mai dares to pepper light kisses across the pink hue of her cheeks. Is there any point in resisting? It's fineâ there's nothing salacious about these kisses. Not yet, anyway.]
You wouldn't get this far if you did.
[Though, the same can be said for the both of themâ had Cellinia been anything more terrifying from the get-go, Mai would have quietly retreated, likely cursing her typical laziness for putting her in the path of something that would only inspire more nightmares. Whenever she can avoid it, she's all too happy to close her eyes to the terrors that seem to slink around every corner. It's fortunate that Cellinia, for all of her menacing decorationsâ hereditary or otherwiseâ is still more cute than scary. Yet, who does this luck seems to favor more, little red riding hood or her wolf? The correct answer is almost certainly both of them.
Mai's fingers are once more caressing the soaped-up fur of Cellinia's sharp ears once she acknowledges that she'll be needing to rinse it all off before long. She sits up just enough to lean forward and reach up for the handheld shower head with her free hand, and before she returns to sit fully on Cellinia's lap again, Mai leans in to one well-lathered ear and murmurs cheekily.]
Just be scary for everyone else, then.
[Mai knows it's a tall ask, impossible even, not at all a productive one if Cellinia is to keep being a working girl. And who knowsâ Mai could find herself playing the hypocrite sooner rather than later. If Cellinia's greed would be the scariest side of herself that she'd choose to share with Mai, then it just might be the kind of fright that this girl could get accustomed to. She'd suffer the adrenaline rush and forfeit herself to the jaws of a wolf, tremble beneath her keen eyes if that's what was demanded of of her. It could be a rather fun game of give and take, this flirtation with the roles expected of them by the outside world.]
(in a time before now, before they had met, and before she had lost that innocence, there had been for her dreams that only children could have. for a time she could be found playing games as children would do. maybe she did once with bright eyes found herself in love, but that ship has long since sailed in self-destruction and heartbreaking choices. one lost herself to despair, the other had broken herself to pieces while carrying on. they donât hold the luster of starry-eyed children, girls who once were so bright-eyed and full of happiness. a wish to and a want in her heart for those days to never end where she once had been so innocent. that her inner child could find peace again in the ruin that was brought upon the wolf in her existence. but thatâs always the problem for girls like them, there was nothing that could truly heal that part of themselves. whatâs left is always to pick up the pieces of once remained. because it didnât matter to this world and all its cruelty what they could have been had things been different.
about loves lost, people taken from them, the ever burning desire to find again that peace so easily ripped from their hands. they lost what could have been, a future theyâd never have and a present that was ever-changing. what it gives them now is something more curious than what once had been their respective lives and worlds. they chase echos, be it of themselves or something deeper. love is something dangerous in how it might end and rebirth them into what felt like dying and living. theyâd live when together, theyâd die when apart. being reflections didnât matter, not a perfect reflection yet enough of one that it strings them together more in this promised gift of everything the wolf has to offer this poor little red riding hood. unusual, bizarre, and even dangerous in the ways that it would tear them apart. cellinia can recognize that, that there is a danger in it and how there was no telling if she would ever be the same again after their meeting.
pleasant distractions are better than the thoughts that might swirl about, how in deep can they be? how far would they go as they lose themselves to love? wonât they be lost again without it or are they telling themselves that this only is another thing that wasnât true when their hearts could cry so loudly, so desperate and needing this salve offered by their lover. her ears again relax without being as disappointed that mai had stopped in favor of tending to the black-red strands of her hair. the patience of this predator isnât a surprise. what is the surprise is that lovely faint pink flush to her cheeks, offering another sweet gift. more spoils for her, sights that none can say theyâve had from her. not even those friends of hers in the pictures has seen the way cellinia could be flustered when she likes someone to that point.
is it truly a relief? perhaps. she doesnât have it in her to scare away this girl, not now. maybe even never with it being intentional. soft mockery and the way maiâs eyes look at her says enough that cellinia neednât say another word. that she likes it. sheâd remain safe with this wolf, this wolf who betrays herself in that pretty pink shade of blush to her sharp features, with her goddess kissing along the color to them. like something chaste in her mannerisms while they both know that any further steps beyond that would result in this bath becoming a different thing entirely. they wouldnât behave any longer while falling deeper into a sweet trap that threatens them more than the unending depths of rain threatening them in the desert it blesses with eternal water.
what mai is getting is beyond the fear that cellinia could have driven into anyone else knowing sheâs a wolf. predators are supposed to be frightening, but she obtained instead a more curious one that is so gentle for her while threatening others with her actual bite. it would be funny were cellinia capable of being frightening towards others while maintaining something of a normal and mundane life with her lover. with her friends, even.)
True....
(fortunately, she loosens up her hold on mai for now while giving a simple answer to her, so that she could grab the shower head while caressing her ears again. those ears which are twitching into her fingers, melting at attention granted to them by proxy of them being adorable. adorable on a girl that shouldnât even be perceived as cute herself for how vicious cellinia might be underneath the surface whenever it comes to the things sheâd do without being fazed. who knows, their luck is looking better than it had at the start. the odds themselves are still stacked against the girls, but perhaps theyâll get somewhere. somewhere beyond the cage for one and the loneliness of another.
she shivers at the way her lover murmurs to her, her ears really are sensitive things in how they stand tall. betraying her again in showing how much she liked hearing her voice speaking to her so lowly, a reminder is given to the part of herself that could be coaxed into misbehaving that they did need to try finishing this bath. try. if it turns to a failure, they might very well make it into more of a habit. but is that so bad? they didnât have to focus on the world or all the things it might do to them again. all that they needed is in front of this pair of jaded girls who flirt too much with what would surely be them falling at their deepest.
a glorious fall, drowning them forever and binding them in a union that would surely be something lethal for what they once were. cellinia does have a job to do, but she couldnât help the thought of eventually taking mai along during working hours. seeing and testing how well they both could avoid getting hot and heavy on the job while in her car, or perhaps in any other places they shouldnât be fooling around in. her greed really is growing in how she might display it when given the chance at the thoughts now coming in against the more serious ones of earlier.)
I could cover your eyes before I do anything frightening, or treat you sweetly after while apologizing.
[Cellinia is especially endearing when flustered like this, enduring these soft kisses about her face while it's more than obvious that she is easily moved by Mai's touches. Whatever manner of innocent love she might have given her heart to in the long-gone days of her youth might be forever lost to the disappointing turn of time, but the flush upon her lovely face is proof enough that her heart isn't frozen completely against a tenderness found in a rather unlikely place. A strange corner of an otherwise nondescript delivery, a patch of warm sunlight tucked away in the oppressive darkness of life's inevitable sufferingâ an echo indeed, of the innocence she might have taken for granted until it was too late.
This is what girls like them are reduced to now, isn't it? Taking part in agreeable distractions from the missteps and failures that have sapped the light from their eyes, in the hopes that maybe this time, this time, they might retrieve true relief in the depths of another. It's a gamble to reach in blindly, no matter how accustomed one might be to the darkness. Yet the two of them seem to be fine like this, grasping about albeit nervously, wondering if their wandering hands might set off some unseen trap, tearing them a wound that would join the others in how deep and unhealing it would become.
It's amusing, that these lovers can be cautious in their own subconscious ways, while their bodies charge ahead rather recklessly.
Mai catches the way Cellinia's ears perk up when she speaks against them, and her body feels the slight tremor going through the wolf at that same act. It doesn't take much, does it? Oh, how Mai adores the way Cellinia trembles beneath her, whether it's innocently like this, or at the mercy of her appetite atop sheets they'll mess up again. It makes her swell with the pride of having the power without needing to do anything more than this. But, it only makes her think almost too immediately of all the ways that she can get even more delightful reactions if she dares to go just a bit further.]
Oh, really? You'd cover my eyes before doing bad things, hm?
[Honestly, what are you to do with this mischief-maker, Cellinia? She's twisted your words for her amusement, and leaves no room for guessing where her thoughts sharply veer with the way her laughter fills the room again. Is it her fault? Cellinia makes it too easy for her, and if she can enjoy that blush for just a moment longer, she won't pass up the chance. Taking Cellinia's chin and tilting her head back, Mai waits for the water to become warn enough to wash away her handiwork from the dark fur and hair. Her fingers move to shield her wolf's pretty, blushing face from the stream of water and shampoo that otherwise descends into the bath. A gentle touch, an admiring gaze, despite the amorous intent of her words.]
You're really into that kind of thing, aren't you?
[She purrs, an obvious allusion to Cellinia's penchant for restraints. The idea of it might be a little different, here, but Mai will prod her with a teasing reminder anyway. Whether or not her lover means something far more innocent than what her own thoughts conjure up, doesn't matter all that much to Mai. She's inspired, goaded even, to let her know that she's thinking of it, this suggestive little memory she intends on treasuring, especially when she finds herself lonely once more.]
But I bet you're prettiest when you're begging for forgiveness. I'd find ways for you to make it up to me, I think.
[Already, thoughts of all of the ways that Cellinia might earn that forgiveness tumble about in her head as she runs warm water over the last patches of foam. Perhaps their thoughts are not so far off from one another's, when it comes down to it. Cellinia has given her wicked mind a taste of just how sweetly she can treat herâ and that was without a mistake to correct. Forget that this entire encounter began as a mistake on both of their parts, one that they're no doubt satisfied to have made, in the end. Neither shall complain too much if they add to the pile, should Cellinia choose to have Mai tag along with her on days when the job is plenty demanding. Goodness knows that they have a poor track record keeping their hands to themselves while in her car⊠]
Wellâ I probably wouldn't have you apologizing for too long. Lucky you, right?
[But a nice and proper girl certainly wouldn't be insinuating the kinds of things that Mai currently is. A better use of her lover's mouth, undoubtedly, offered under the benevolent guise of sparing Cellinia the shame of profusely apologizing for frightening herâ with words, anyway. She shouldn't object, right? Because Mai really does hate scary things, and what better way to remedy body-freezing terrors than something decidedly more hot and pleasing?
At last, the shampoo is thoroughly rinsed through. Cellinia's hair is without a single speck of lather, though scented pleasantly with lavender, calming, and irresistibly so. Enough that, once Mai replaces the shower head and wraps her arms tightly around her lover's shoulders, she breathes her in deeply. Cellinia is such a pretty contradiction, she silently acknowledges, at once dangerous and safe. Has Mai crept her way into a wolf's blind spot, somehow? Or is she in the beast's plain sight, kept in her mercy while the rest of the world may shudder in fear? Maybe it doesn't really matter, because Mai will end up pushing the boundaries regardless.
Such as now, when she ghosts her lips over one of Cellinia's ears. Nice and clean. Mai kisses along the edge first, the sensation of the fur there wet and soft against her mouth. There's a sliver of impatience in the way she takes her fill like this, as if she's been waiting for such an indulgence since they first climbed into the bath together. If it twitches against her kiss, she won't mind in the slightest, and might find herself smiling mirthfully before teasing her tongue up along starting at the base. Is this not her own manner of a sweet treatment, or something unquestionably sinful? Cellinia ought not to have put such strange ideas into Mai's head with her vague insinuationsâ doesn't she know that this girl has quite the imagination when it suits her? Well, she can certainly ponder on it as Mai takes the tip of Cellinia's sharp ear and nips at it with just her lips, a slight pressure not meant to elicit any pain if she could help it.
Yes, you ought to feel very lucky now, Cellinia. That to Mai, behaving comes second to getting her way when she makes the decision.]
(itâs a lovely shade of pink, that urge to kiss her while she pressed her lips to the faint flush along her cheeks had been difficult to ignore. she shows more in some ways through how the wolf allows her little red riding hood to touch her, to give her tender and chaste touches while in a moment of relaxation. where they are meant to behave, but find it arduous to do so in how theyâve been skirting the line together. being in that car together had only marked the start of them chasing these echoes. how theyâre cautious and not in a contradiction to their typical choices, innocent love doesnât suit a beast like her in how itâs too good, too pure for her to taste. the sweetness of it sickly and more than the confections that cellinia herself would often be found eating alone. theyâre so tired, drained in all the ways the cruelty of the world could have done with such ease. their gambling itself could cause more if they werenât careful about where it leads them.
but arenât they here, too, from said gamble? they hold no childlike light in their eyes, only eyes that have seen more than their share of what the world has done to them. to girls like them who once found themselves able to express their innocence without it feeling more as if it were a death sentence to maintain that wounded part of themselves. she often finds herself waiting for said trap to catch her hand, to grab it and tear into it another wound that would fester long after it heals itself closed. anxiety would always be something that remains, perhaps even their nervous and overly cautious attempts at testing the waters in what both girls denies as being love between them. a budding romance that wonât for their sake turn into something tragic like within the plays that cellinia had often found herself dragged into seeing with her only other childhood friend. nothing could heal those festering wounds.
those wounds which festered nevertheless underneath the surface regardless of seeming closed to those prying eyes around in their lives, that stayed long after they should have healed.
their bodies know the truth that they blind themselves to willingly. telling their hearts that this canât be that sweet innocence theyâve had slipped through their bloodied fingers, both figurative and literal. they resist admitting early what most would know by looking at them, that love bloomed in the most unusual and horrific ways in darkly whispered vows and vows of devotion. not that theyâd understand, they would find themselves appalled at the very notion that a beast is offering herself to this girl. oh, theyâd all call for her head. that desire to drive out a monster among humans while telling her lover that sheâd be gone by the morrow. that none of them would let this wolf hurt her again when the reality had been cellinia has loved her more than any human could without knowing. without realizing, no less, that her heart found its home in her.
whatever shall they do when the wolf is found whisking away this little red riding hood one night? taking her far away, away from those that harmed her and carved into her body those unseen wounds that both wolf and goddess had recognized as being like their own without knowing. itâs innocent in how cellinia had shivered, from sensitive ears, and how she likes the sound of her loverâs voice. atop that altar of theirs, the sheets theyâd ruin again and again, she finds it impossible to not imagine what mai means in her response. the mischief and how it drips from her words, the sinful nature of what her lover would be after from her. her ears betraying her would become a norm between them, were anyone else to dare attempt something so bold theyâd surely find themselves on the ground and injured. that is if they werenât someone she knew, although even her friends were not exempt from cellinia judging them if they attempted this.
she has something on the tip of her tongue, a remark of her own that gets cut off when mai takes hold of her chin and tips her head back enough. honestly, itâs enough to cut off any thoughts she may have had. their eyes lock, the wolfâs own searing in the way they look at her goddess from those promises. at being called out, even, for her own enjoyment of being tied down. restrained beneath her like an obedient beast as this pretty little goddess ate her fill of her body, drinking in deep of her with each flick of her tongue at her very arousal.
that purr of her voice is doing far too much to her and her patience, mai could sound so lovely without trying. she didnât need to see her face to keep those beautiful eyes of hers on maiâs own when she feels the admiration in her gaze. the mix of it and her amorous intent while theyâre having this back and forth. another mistake, or maybe not. theyâve long since stopped counting those, and the sins they are forming now would only bloom in their thorn covered gardens that both goddess and wolf are growing together. she has no shame in it, not in how hearing the rather obvious part of where maiâs mind is taking this.
let her treasure it, she deserves to have that memory keep her warm in their nights apart when the loneliness eats at them. cellinia wouldnât let herself stop thinking about her as promised, that request to ruin and be ruined was only the beginning. itâs only fair she allowed this girl to haunt her forever. to never stop haunting her in her waking moments and when she falls asleep. within her imagination, where she might dream of the things sheâd do to her in sinful reverence and chastely given love.
which is why her eyes are locked back on to her loverâs own hazel ones the moment theyâre uncovered, as if that answers the question enough. she is into that. sheâd cover her loverâs eyes and shield her from the scary things that the wolf would do to others that overstepped their boundaries. that pushed their luck too far while also not understanding what theyâre getting themselves into. yes, she can imagine it too well. the apologies whispered softly and cellinia bloody, reluctant to touch her lover yet doing it anyway from that urge to do so whether she were covered in tainted blood or not. the tainted blood of those foolish monsters, of truly, those bastards that would think they can separate them.)
Weâll have to see some time, wonât we? What you might come up with, the ways that I can apologize in more than only words....
(she murmurs the words, almost like she pictures it herself. the idea being painted out for her, the white-hot desperation of the moment would work plenty of wonders in that. how cellinia would treat her gently, mouth to her skin and lips. fingers working their way along her body, memorizing every tremble and twitch like itâs the first time. marking her beautiful body with teeth and kisses in apologies that could only be given in that desperate sense of longing in not wanting to let go. not of her, her lover and that part of herself sheâd lose forever if mai were to be gone completely from her life. it would be a better use of that mouth of hers, that wolfish tongue and the pretty way she could speak to her words both foreign and not.
who can say where mai is, but one thing is for certain, she is safe. safe in the arms of someone dangerous while cellinia loosens her hold again for her, safe in a contradiction who would sooner keep hidden from her gaze the more frightening sides of herself. she wouldnât object to apologizing with her mouth in whatever other ways her goddess can imagine, and how much the wolf would die without her the longer this goes on between them. cellinia did consider asking if mai wanted her back washed, before anything else that is, whenever she feels her arms around her shoulders.
how it almost felt like mai had been struggling in not acting on this urge in how tight it is, she can almost tell her lover is melting at this soothing scent. cellinia personally uses lavender to help herself relax more. be it at night to sleep or in general with wanting to calm down after a particularly intense night of sleep avoiding her, one of the wolfâs hands moves to rest along maiâs upper back. to trail her fingers along her spine while she takes in as much of celliniaâs scent as she desires. the rain and lavender, the hints of nicotine mixed into it. that buried down mote of ashes, too. what a unique scent, for someone as wild as this girl is.
enough to frighten most, but not her goddess who kisses one of her sharp and fluffy ears. the ear itself stands up straight immediately from surprise, cellinia herself? she hadnât expected that in how she sharply exhales, it seems both of them were having vivid imaginations together this time. unintentional on celliniaâs part at the start, but itâs too easy to get her to chase after her goddess and pretty little red riding hood. shameless in how they blur this line of needing to behave, but neither seems to care as their words drift further away from what had been something chaste and intimate in itself from how they were bathing together. the sigh she lets out is slightly louder once maiâs tongue works its way along the ear sheâs giving her attention to. is it from how sensitive they are? maybe, but it also isnât very surprising mai could a sound from her. for it to not be as soft from her nips of teeth along somewhere so sensitive for wolves.
oh, she canât help that tremble, that shiver from it beneath her. sheâs at her mercy in this tub, trapped beneath her while they both veer into misbehaving. how cute, they lasted this long for her ears to be groomed.)
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Date: 2025-04-21 02:40 am (UTC)the kisses are a temptation in themselves, to give in a little longer. to push a little more from chaste to something more. how could they not want more? neither of them are in a hurry, no matter the way they said they ought to get up. which is what makes it so difficult, troublesome really, to part from a comfort theyâve found they enjoy too much for their own good when she hums in response idly to her loverâs words.
they really are hopeless, arenât they? giving in to a little bliss and so soon. not rushing themselves to part, either. they should know better than to get caught up in it when they should tend to themselves first. the kisses cellinia sneaks in are a little greedy, but can you blame her for that, mai? she hasnât had a touch like yours, not once. helpful, anyway, that she isnât the sort of demanding girl with chores. sheâll do her part and help as befitting her own role. truly, she can be such a boy and yet also softer than one in the things this wolf could do without arguing. she does do her own share of the chores, her apartment is spotless for a reason despite the organized clutter here and there. of books, music, and movies she found herself the new owner of.)
Sorry....
(sheâs not sorry. the last kiss she sneaks in of her lips is enough to help melt away the fatigue more, sleepiness fades to a softened up expression. those eyes again full of reverence and all solely on mai. the girl that would have them alone. nothing lasts forever, perhaps, but later mai would get to memorize her face again in bed. on another sleepy morning or afternoon shared between them where her sleepy wolf might even find herself kissing her darling lover all over again into awakening sweetly. she misses her hands already, but she doesnât stop her. not from getting up, not even from the part where cellinia almost snorts at mai suggesting she might want to wear more of her clothes.
she did leave that dress shirt for her in the bathroom, to wear until her uniform was washed up. the truth is that cellinia would be comfortable with mai taking as she pleases from her closest, the selection of hoodies, sweaters, whatever she pleases of her trendy yet masculine collection. soraâs handiwork that she has a decent closet and celliniaâs own taste factoring in since she did have a good sense of style. she finds she canât keep her eyes off mai even now, watching the way she moves after she commented about pulling off her wolfâs clothes. sheâs debating on it, giving her something to wear from her closet if she wants something more comfortable while waiting on her clothes to wash. or even letting mai grab whatever she pleases.
both would be good, but enough about those thoughts. the blanket lifts off her body, her rather handsome wolf even is unfazed but it doesnât help the way she looks at her. oh. she misses seeing her bare already, it leaves little to the imagination of thinking about reaching over to remove it. unraveling it from her lover before they dip into the warm water of their hopefully relaxing bath. best to save those thoughts for later. another time, whenever they both werenât trying to make the most of this bliss theyâre crafting with their own hands. carving into their souls and into their lives gradually as something more than their dreary mundane moments.
but at the same time, her gaze follows her lover off into the distance. into the bathroom, watching her every moment and how the blanket when she catches that haughty look. almost like she flirts again with the wolf by pretending she hasnât committed her body to memory. that mantle of a blanket suits her too well, cellinia thinks more to herself. sheâll be sure to later give you more than what you ordered, mai. your shopping list and time spent away from the gaze of others before the wolf gets on her feet. sheâs next in the bathroom, if only to retrieve their clothes. the uniform and celliniaâs own while mai hums that tune of hers and looks around.
cellinia wonât be in there for long, given she did quietly prowl off after to retrieve her bedding to go with their laundry. the bottles of shampoo and conditioner were plenty. seems like her wolf does put in effort for self-care. good, right? especially with fur like hers, the additional parts of herself that sheâd have to take care of.)
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Date: 2025-04-21 07:10 am (UTC)Maybe she would leave herself behind, too. Traces of Mai that would eventually find their spots in the nondescript corners of this apartmentâ clothes or facewash or cans of her favorite soft drinks. Her scent on Cellinia's pillows, on one she might decide is her favorite whenever she isn't using her heartbeat to lull her to sleep. Something to make her equally as real during the in-between moments, anything that would keep her in someone's memory when she was out of their arms. Blame it on her various complexes, the ones that never fail to remind her that she's forgettable even when she tries her hardest not to be.
Until then, she'll just have to content herself with wearing the scent of Cellinia's soap, and the faint fragrance of tobacco and cologne lingering on the clothes she'll borrow while waiting for her uniform to be cleaned. It's fineâ it's good enough, it'll have to be, because she can't bring Cellinia back with her, nor can she overstay her welcome, even if Cellinia had suggested keeping her. It almost certainly wasn't a joke, but⊠logic and reason are starting to creep their way into this reverie. There's only one sure way for Cellinia to keep her, and Mai doesn't want to tread close to that option right now.
For now, Mai is fine pretending as if they're normal lovers who merely want to cling to one another for just a bit longer, steal a few more kisses before responsibilities hasten them apart. Mai, of course, doesn't buy Cellinia's apology for a second. That's fine, though, because when has Mai ever been sorry for trouble she's caused for them, thus far? She's certainly not apologetic for cloaking her figure in the blanket, gleeful at the expression on Cellinia's face, one that betrays how accustomed she was to the unimpeded view before. Too badâ but you'll be able to to feast your eyes to your heart's content whenever the bath is sufficiently drawn, greedy little wolf.
Atop the bathroom counter sits the shirts that Cellinia had set out for them to wear last night, before the two of them opted not to even bother with clothing in the height of their splendid frustrations. If Mai were to lounge around here for the remainder of the day, then she sees no problem wearing only that simple dress shirt. A treat for Cellinia pretty eyes, perhaps, if she'll let Mai wear it for long enough to enjoy the sight. Of course, if they are to find themselves wandering about for a proper meal, then it goes without saying that they'd need to dress respectably. But if Cellinia wants to keep her goddess for her eyes only, then really, anything goes.
An oddly comfortable silence befalls them as they tend to their respective tasks. The rush of water into the bathtub is rather soothing, a rhythmic white noise that keeps Mai's mind from wandering too far. Hearing Cellinia taking care of laundry in the next room almost feels too normal and domestic, in a way that tugs at her heart in a way she's unfamiliar with, but nevertheless a way she secretly wants to experience again sometime. Along the edge of the bathtub are a few bottles she's picked out from Cellinia's surprisingly impressive selection. There was even a brand there that Mai sometimes used, another surprise. She'll hold her tongue at a joke she wants to make at thinking she was going to find some dog shampoo mixed in with the more normal options. She can be nice!]
Almost ready.
[She calls out, dipping her hand into the water to test the temperature of their bath. Mai keeps it a little less hot than she normally prefers, but it's comfortable enough to soothe whatever stiffness comes with sleeping on sofas. Next time, she'll avoid wrecking the bed too much for them to enjoy a proper night's sleep there.]
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Date: 2025-04-21 09:51 pm (UTC)some horror, some romance, some action. the list goes on for whatâs lying around when mai grows that curious to look through her belongings. anything more personal is kept in her nightstand. but thatâs a worry for another time, her lover could make a list if she liked of things she would want to be kept around celliniaâs apartment for visits. even thatâs only a start while the wolf attempts ignoring the way her more logical and reasonable sides tells her that she shouldnât expect much. to stop getting her expectations up. no matter the way she wants to leave her scent on mai, or how mai wants to leave such lingering gifts. memorizing her heartbeat while they fall asleep together, pretending they were more than their sins. perhaps pretending they were human, more human than theyâd ever feel. if her lover struggles with being forgotten, then cellinia would never forget her. not in how those eyes of hers sat so pretty on mai like sheâs all that mattered in their world built around being broken to pieces.
it was enough that they wanted more, that they wanted to leave the little pieces of themselves for one another. that it was beyond what had started. however long mai desires to stay, sheâd never let go. not even in their lowest of thoughts and expectations for themselves with their views on how little they deserve such good. for that, sheâll give her freedom. freedom to take what she pleases, to carry out clothes covered in the faint scent of nicotine and cedar scented cologne. the wood notes of it being soothing and subtle while mixed into the scent of rain she also carries.
here they could be whatever they desired. a pair of girls pretending to be lovers while also not realizing how real it felt, how the feeling of domesticity itself was foreign and warm. like another blanket around them in this sweet dream theyâre part of. theyâre together. covering one another in the things they wish to haunt and be haunted by, as if that could chase away nightmares that would never leave them. itâd be nice if it could. if the love they deny could envelop them and keep away such terrible dreams until they unite again. she didnât mean that apology, as they both know, despite her disappointment that mai had covered up from enjoying the view she was given. later, then, she would satisfy her greed more. because she knows, her precious little red riding hood can be a greedy thing herself.
sheâll likely, if her lover wants to go out, allow her to raid her closet for anything she might wish to wear. undressing her, though? that depends on her lover. on if, she presses into that unending desire to feel one another again. the dress shirt was only something she picked out for ease and comfort, cellinia herself had chosen another tank top to wear. nothing more to go with them lounging. she did assume theyâd both want to relax before figuring out what they might do for their late lunch. there is always ordering, as cellinia can admit sheâs done when she didnât feel like cooking.
better to figure it out later, because she could easily want to keep her eyes on her goddess alone for a little longer. itâs comfortable, this quiet and how they seem to fall into it naturally. the washer starts with a low hum, their clothes and her bedding tucked away inside while the wolf reaches for a couple of towels that were kept in a cabinet within. convenient, really, that she keeps some of them in the laundry room to change out when her others might need washing in her bathroom closet. maiâs voice cuts through her thoughts, her thinking, right. time for reality again whenever she comes back within the bathroom. towels both in hand, her brushes would be grabbed later.
theyâd need them, plus she rather mai not be confused why one of them was full of fur instead of hair. cellinia did keep separate ones for the sake of brushing out that tail of hers alone without needing to overcomplicate it. having to care for fur can be a considerable pain, but not too much of one.)
Got the laundry going, maybe we can figure out lunch after?
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Date: 2025-04-23 02:00 am (UTC)Nevertheless, Mai might find herself retracing those skipped steps, in her own furtive way. Her lover can wear all of the secrets she pleases, but her greedy fingers will sift through as many as she'll be able to. When Mai already has something as ironclad as a vow promising blood-drenched freedom, it becomes easier to want to learn more about what exactly makes someone this willing to devote herself so ardently. It's obvious, the perilous undercurrents that course beneath her darkly-inked and silvery-scarred skinâ but that won't be enough for Mai, the longer they indulge in this affair. She'll want to know everything, one way or another, even if it means inevitably overstepping the lines she cannot yet ascertain.
Fortunately, she is still shrugging off the last remnants of weariness to really plan her nosy expedition into her lover's personal life. Cellinia appears not long after Mai calls out to her, the hum of the washing machine dulled even further when she closes the bathroom door behind her partway. It tickles Mai for some reason, knowing that this pretty wolf had been tending to some chores in an effort to keep her little den tidy and livable, nary a complaint on her lips. Sure, Cellinia may live like a guy in some respects, but she's far more responsible than any that Mai had the misfortune of living withâ it's quite endearing.
She sits up a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and grinning at the nonchalant expression on her lover's face.]
Fine with me. You've got me kind of curious about what wolves like to eat. Aside from candy and girls.
[No, she can't resist slipping in this little quip, letting her hand stroke at the dark fluff of Cellinia's tail whenever she's near enough to set their towels down upon the counter. Mai doesn't ignore for an instant that she's in the presence of a beastâ a splendid one, but a beast all the same. She sports plenty of bite marks reminding her of this fact, but she knows well enough that Cellinia isn't going to suggest hunting for some raw flesh for their meal. As evidenced by the mostly normal way she appears to live, Cellinia is almost certainly just like any other girl with a sweet tooth. Another endearing aspect of hersâ that they can share a taste for yet another thing that isn't exactly the best for them.
Once the water level in the bathtub is satisfactory enough, Mai leans over to twist the nozzle to stop the stream. A pleasant steam lingers in the air, condensing lightly upon Mai's skin exposed beneath the blanket still loose around her torso. She rises from her place at the edge of the bathtub, and leans against the wall wearing that self-satisfied smile again. Even wrapped up still, Mai cuts a lovely figure, her hand delicately gesturing out from beneath the blanket and towards the tub.]
Well? It's only polite for me to let my hostess to go first, soâ after you.
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Date: 2025-04-23 03:29 am (UTC)she wears her secrets plenty beneath the thorns, the vines entangling them. they are there, but not seen and not so easily uncovered by those who may think themselves capable. everyone gives up, eventually. even cellinia knows it as a lesson too well. her friends has done that with not even daring to give her any attention more than what they could get their hands on. they know it as their own lesson when dealing with the wolf, she will say things as she pleases. words that often catch them off guard in how serious she is about the way the familige treats others. what mai might find, she would likely be surprised by. some might even be repulsed by her, from this history of bloodstained honor and integrity. the tradition that follows, their way of living as wolves. wolf eat wolf, law of the jungle. the strong will thrive and the weak shall die under heel.
later, she may be able to find something of her personal belongings. perhaps even more than that, something to dig into. to search up when it comes to her history. how overnight a single family burned away into ashes. their bloodline, ended. all that remains is before her when cellinia sets down those towels and adjusts them so they donât fall off the counter. sheâs not one to complain about chores, not even about keeping her home tidy or anything else in her day by day. it makes things easier to maintain something close to normal if she does. as much as she lives like a man, she does have things that stick out that arenât like most men. or maybe she can be called more of a man than most men themselves.
nonchalant expression and attitude aside, sheâs pleased with herself. her daily chores shouldnât be difficult to manage when they get done. any other cleaning, ordering food, changing out laundry and swapping her bedding around. typical things that people wouldnât expect of a wild wolf. anything wild, truly. maybe not even her when her tail decides to brush up against maiâs hand in response to her hand running along the fur. like itâs pleased to also receive attention now that was given to her ears.
how cute of her.)
Mm, or sharing said candy.
(or letting herself be eaten, but thatâs beside the point. the endearing parts of this wolf, this pretty wolf, can be interesting in themselves. how remarkably normal that she is, while standing out with those cute and sharp ears. that fluffy tail. this lovely beast of hers did crack a tiny smile, thatâs as close to them as anyone could ever get. it almost makes her look softer for the moment whenever as suggested, cellinia slowly dips her foot into the water then eases down to sit into the spacious tub first. her amber eyes soon falling on mai, the way that blanket looks wrapped around her again.
it does look good on her, she could admit that. but cellinia also misses seeing her bare, having her in her arms that way without a second thought. something about entrusting a lover with them in their most vulnerable states, thatâs also endearing. like trusting their partner to keep their naked bodies close and protect them all the same. delicate, but lovely. whenever the wolf relaxes, the stiffness of muscle and tension eases. though it didnât stop her from holding a hand out to her lover, as if in invitation.
sheâs waiting, for however long they may behave.)
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Date: 2025-04-23 10:14 pm (UTC)Mai still isn't sure what her devoted beast gets out of keeping her, what would really ignite Cellinia's soul at the end of all of this. She'll find out, though, surelyâ this wolf won't remain an enigma to her for long. Just because Mai has rolled over prettily for her once doesn't mean that she still doesn't feel compelled by a keen curiosity. That part of her is as certain as the sun, whereas the moon can think herself as clever as she pleases whenever she decides to hide her light.
Her eyes do brighten at Cellinia's wisp of a smile, and Mai swells with a triumph that makes itself plain as day upon her features. It's a sight enchanting enough to rival those eyes she so covets upon her, yet one that only adds to the overall allure of her as she slips into the water. Mai beholds every second with obvious delight, watching as Cellinia eases herself against the bathtub, leaning back and looking every bit the menacing work of art that she is. Drops of water spill over the dark ink covering her arms, and collect charmingly over the bruises littering her chest. Certainly a sight to admire, without any shame to muddle it.
At that hand held out so invitingly towards her, Mai can't resist the pride she feels at being watched, this time. Confidence cloaks her just as well as this blanket wrapped around herâ she knows that she's beautiful and she knows that Cellinia desires her. And she knows that it's a bit heartless to keep her handsome admirer waiting, as she slowly lets the fabric slip from her arms and pool at her feet. She wears her own collection of comely marks, and Cellinia deserves to appreciate them before Mai closes the space between their bodies. Her fingers brush against the palm held out to her before she grabs on more firmly and steps into the water now, herself. Never looking away, Mai sinks beneath the water with a soft sigh, and moves closer into Cellinia's corner of the tub.]
âŠgood, I was worried there wouldn't be enough room for me.
[A lieâ it's obvious that the tub is spacious enough, especially for an apartment. There's not a lick of worry on her face, but rather, a contented smirk as she makes herself more comfortable between Cellinia's legs.]
Ah, it feels nice⊠I could fall asleep like this, if I'm not careful.
[Another little lie, betrayed by the mirth in her voice, and the look she gives Cellinia from beneath her lashes. Oh, it should be fun to see how long they can manage to behave. Mai's own faith in the two of them is⊠middling, at best.]
no subject
Date: 2025-04-23 11:07 pm (UTC)her soul ignites in her embrace, her lips thirst for more of her kiss. maybe she might uncover more of this enigma presented before her, how the wolf may never stop being one in some ways. because sheâs learned, she has to keep some parts of herself safe. away from the prying eyes of others for survival, allowing herself to let out everything is a weakness. those who are weak die fast, but not as fast as the lone wolves who abandoned their blood, their kin. mai may be the sun, cellinia could only be the moon to her while she watches her closely.
her marks, the bruises and love bites cover her skin beautifully. the imprints of scratches along her back mixed into where her lips marked more of the canvas she adores most only other parts of her body that mai has touched with her brush. a brush which cellinia shows off without shame, without a second thought in it. they were past the need for shame now, werenât they? and itâs nothing unusual for a beast to not carry shame. itâs only fitting of a wild animal to do such a thing. mark her territory and allow her lover to do the same if she found herself wanting to try and keep something as handsome, as dangerous as she is. her menacing and handsome work of art, her knight in all her darkly given promises. vows which left her with such ease, how they came out like poetry in the violence she would grant her the honor of saying the word for.
she watches mai, those searing amber eyes following closely. the sight of her easing that blanket and the fabric of it down slowly in her steps. she canât help how she watches her. cellinia wouldnât rip her eyes away for any reason, not in how she watches her beautiful goddess slip out of it. the marks which she left for her in worship unveiled, the way it hugged her curves before it dropped to the floor properly and their hands soon are held together. her thumb brushes along the back of maiâs tenderly, the rub of it into the skin slow while her lover takes this invitation presented before her. at first, cellinia expected her to find her own space knowing the tub has plenty of that offered to them both.
what happens instead, she didnât mind that either. mai settling against her, in her lap and closing any space between them as warm droplets of water trail down along their skin. she knows thatâs a lie, but she doesnât call her out on it. she only could take it as something to grow used to, something that she doesnât argue or mind knowing that they both struggled to allow themselves to separate for long. mai fits perfectly in her lap, against her body when cellinia instinctively rests her chin against her beautiful admirerâs own shoulder.
as if in response to the way she stares at her, beneath her lashes and lying again about the possibility of falling asleep like this. they both know she wouldnât, celliniaâs hands find a home against her hips again. the roughness of them even in warm water noticeable against the soft skin, the way her fingertips stroke idle circles into them with an amused hum.)
That relaxed, are you?
(she breathes it out lowly, ah, they may not behave for long. cellinia even has little faith that they could, but thatâs fine in itself. they neednât always behave. not all the time if they desired to cause mischief instead.)
no subject
Date: 2025-04-24 07:30 pm (UTC)'I'll make you mine forever.'
How could Mai not feel like the cat who got the cream? And she is every bit that haughty cat, sweetening only for the hand that feeds her, but happy to give a few bites, all the same. She does leave behind the prettiest marks, after all.]
Oh, yeah, I'm plenty relaxed.
[Her voice purrs, following a blissful sigh as she settles further against Cellinia's chest. Once more, they fit together as easily as if they were meant for this, the many different ways they might wish to hold each other close. It's as if the heat has softened their sharp edges even further, making them pliant and obliging to this rare tenderness. Of course, Cellinia envelops her far better than the warm water does, with her hands comfortably upon her hips, and her chin nestled upon her shoulder. The same safe feeling that wrapped her up so snugly in the night tingles familiarly wherever their skin connects, and Mai melts a bit further against her lover's embrace. One of her own hands traces along Cellinia's leg, before finding a few of the love bites she'd left and stroking over them mindlessly. Mm, she probably could have left a few more, right�]
This definitely helps after sleeping on a couch. [She can't help it, she really can'tâ ] But you weren't half-bad, at least.
[Best sleep she's had in a long time, a sentiment that they obviously both share, given how unwilling they were to rise for the day. Cellinia truly made the most wonderful pillow, amongst all of the other things she did to leave Mai nice and sleepy. Even now, she has no complaints at how peaceful it is to settle against her body, taking up space unapologetically in this continuation of their cuddling on that couch she had just bemoaned playfully. And when she tips her head just enough to get a better look at her lover's charming face, she can't resist the urge to keep teasing her a little. Despite being in such a precarious position, right in the middle of a wolf's grasp, Mai just can't bring herself to play the perfect little captive.]
Next time, though, I deserve to sleep in a proper bed. That's not too much to ask, right?
[As if to bolster her sweet-talking request, Mai reaches up to stroke slowly at Cellinia's sharp ears. She rubs and teases the silky fur with her fingertips, before letting her hand drag down somewhat to card through the damp, dark strands of hair. Mai knows it, of course she does, that her ask is only as possible as her willingness to be a good girl and not get carried away like last time. But it's already been established, right? Being good is overrated and hardly as funâ besides, she's almost certain that she'll continue to enjoy frustrating Cellinia, probably as much as Cellinia herself enjoys humoring her mischievous ways.]
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Date: 2025-04-24 08:35 pm (UTC)âI want to make you mine.â
she meant those words, she wants to cover her in everything. her scent, her teeth which could just as easily rip someone to shreds yet doesnât. she only bites down for the marks she left, the marks which decorate her loverâs beautiful skin and body. she doesnât mind even carrying maiâs marks, those pretty marks along her neck. those thighs of hers, and her back. no, there wasnât a need to hate it. not even to dislike it. what she does is, she takes this greed and embraces it with her own. how cute, her precious and sweet little wolf responds with similar greediness when it comes to such things about them.
cellinia hums lowly again at that purr, the feeling of maiâs fingers brushing along love bites that she left her. if she did want to leave more of them, who was she to disagree? she almost certainly wouldnât, not while they relax in this warm bath. a warmer embrace that seems to keep them together, melting away the stress and worries they would have typically dealt with. that mattered little, not in how skin to skin they seem to melt away into being something softer than they could have ever been. safety. protection, like those arms would never let go of her if she could help it. perhaps later she can leave a few more of her own marks, would she like that more to have them? or more of her kiss along her skin to light her on fire underneath her skin too, right?)
It was hard to get up....
(few words said, but they were words she meant. it was hard to get up. not in a bad way about being stiff, but in the sense of them not desiring to end their comfortable embrace. like this, when mai tips her head, their eyes lock again as best they may from this position. she doesnât mind that her lover refuses to be a perfect little captive in her den. thatâs what makes it all the more interesting. their bodies are like puzzle pieces for one another, ones which could only melt them further. their edges would never fade, not even the thorns, or how they could stab into anything unwittingly getting too close for comfort. but, that also meant little to them who were unfazed by the sting. instead they embrace it, they let themselves go in tenderness that would never be shared with another lover.
it truly is precarious, no? mai is trapped in her warm embrace, anything could happen that was less than innocent and chaste. though she says nothing for now, nothing more than nuzzling into her shoulder at her fingers teasing those fluffy ears of hers. their sharpness as usual standing out when they twitch in response, the wet fur easy to brush through before maiâs hand makes its way through celliniaâs hair instead. those cute ears almost seemed disappointed she stopped for now. she can behave, she thinks. for how long is not as easy to tell seeing as how mai could frustrate her as she pleases and watch this handsome wolf unravel for her again in the warm water. it all depends on their willingness to behave.)
Itâs not too much to ask for....I did get the sheets swapped out for if we needed a bit more rest.
(would that stay a simple time of rest, truly? the two of them could easily turn that from what would be a small rest into more than that. especially since cellinia almost wonders if she ought to start expecting to sleep nude in how comfortable they both seem to be at the idea of that. sleeping bare and vulnerable, holding one another in such an embrace. how shameless, some might say.)
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Date: 2025-04-25 11:48 am (UTC)Or would the ghosts of those kisses and bites haunt their flesh long after the bruises disappeared beneath the surface? Is that what Cellinia intended with her declaration? That her teeth sink more profoundly than merely skin-deepâ no, she must've gone farther below, leaving behind a more permanent promise where no eyes might ever see. Certainly, this promise is one that draws blood, staining Mai all the more beautifully for her. And it won't show, it isn't something obvious enough for anyone but them to be aware of, but it shall be a stain that blooms like the most dangerous flower in their distorted garden. A mark that finds its only match in one another's souls, whenever the fog of misery lifts enough from their eyes for them to witness the miracle of it for themselves.
For now, though, the haze is still thickâ the images of love, that lamentable and unnecessary feeling, cannot yet be discerned. Nevertheless, it flickers faintly in this haze, unhurried for these lovers to become wise to its swaying presence. They can certainly think themselves only engaging in this little dance for some physical satisfaction. Neither will know of the true consequences of of their union until it's far too late, and delightfully so.]
Funny, that you think we'd be getting any rest over there.
[She raises her eyebrows knowingly at Cellinia's harmless suggestion. There's absolutely nothing innocent that can happen involving the two of them and a bed, considering how they made a right mess of it last night. Does Cellinia already desire to have Mai again, feel her melting beneath her touch and pleading for all of the terrible things that she really shouldn't be? Will they really be able to rest once they've returned to the altar where they've made their sinful vows? No, that passion is already too addictive, and they already know well enough that when it comes to behaving, they're well-matched in their impatience.]
I meant, next timeâ next time I come to get some sleep.
[Because whenever it does happen next, there will be another evening spent in full together. Mai has tasted a good night's rest, a slumber without the plague of horrid dreams and thoughts fraught with a loathing directed at herself. Shameless or not, she experienced a warmth wholly unfamiliar to her, in the way that their flesh kissed one another unimpeded throughout the night. It felt peaceful, natural in its rarity, to lay bare beside one who so easily vowed to cut down anyone who might try to do them harm. No need to wear any cloak of false modesty when they've opened up the more raw parts of themselves, if even for the briefest of moments. Whether they liked it or not, there was no going back to whatever shells of themselves that they had been before.]
Don't try to trap me in your bed, Celliniaâ I don't know if I'd ever make it out in one piece.
[Her sharp laugh echos off the tiled walls, and she tries her best to give Cellinia a kissâ making it as far as cheek from the position their in, and the way her lover is nuzzled into her shoulder. When she considered the idea of being trapped, Mai recalls how well-suited Cellinia was to being bound. Yes, she made the most eye-catching captive, didn't she? Behaving magnificently until Mai beckoned her down the path of retribution under the guise of pleasure. Forget about Mai leaving in one pieceâ whomever finds themselves at the mercy of her moodiness might find themselves wishing that she would be confined in the wolf's sacred altar of wicked love.]
no subject
Date: 2025-04-25 11:11 pm (UTC)souvenirs that may never fade away, even, in how their minds would often go back to it. wondering about them. the unending urge to own and be owned in the way theyâve begun to anchor one another. reality could call for them, but that doesnât mean they would lose this. cellinia herself meant more than surface level marks in her wish to haunt and be haunted. permanent promises, their vows while she offers blood in exchange for freedom as one girl deserves herself. truth is something they ignore, because that meant coming to terms sooner with how comfortable they are in each otherâs arms. those consequences could only be part of what leaves its everlasting mark. cellinia is comfortable, her hands idle in how they rub into the skin of her loverâs hips. sheâs not in any rush to move them further. touch alone does plenty for her, but it wasnât something that could satisfy this greed alone. cravings which felt constant to push further.
her darkly given vows and promises would only continue, because who was she to judge the way her lover holds her monsters as something she wants to be removed from her life? from the perpetual nightmare theyâve given her that was so helpfully kept at bay by her wolfâs own warm embrace? but she did know, neither of them would be sleeping. not a single bit or not for long if they found themselves alone in bed together again. it wouldnât be them resting, theyâd be unable to resist the allure of that siren song which calls to them. that song that demands they donât stop feeling this unending hunger, that it doesnât die down while their bodies meet again and again beneath the moon.
on that wicked altar the wolf offers made of bloodstained promises and tender love given from her teeth and claws. her tongue which could lavish her in its own worship from the way cellinia speaks to mai like sheâs every bit what she could have ever desired in this fucked up and miserable excuse of a world. the sinful vows could only keep growing, whispered lowly along her lips and neck when offered it. why wouldnât she oblige to this, after all? the wolf could only be excited by it. that her lover could ever want something so violent and ugly in her presence, so willing to worship her without a second thought in love they do not admit to feeling for many reasons.)
Fair, I think my point last time still stands.
(she said it best last night, didnât she? murmuring how she wouldnât let her sleep while restrained so beautifully for mai. maybe she did desire it, to hear the things mai wants from her. how the idea makes her melt more in the hands of a beast that is too ready to give her such cruel promises for those that she deems the ones she desired to be punished. neither of them would behave long in the grace of this sinful delight and addiction of theirs to touch, passion, and intense cravings. cellinia knows she wouldnât be able to stop herself from wanting to touch her more, from wanting to hear that sound of her lovely voice hitting those notes for her as far better music than what plays on her stereo.
itâs a song in itself to hear, one that cellinia memorizes down to the last note. that restful slumber they had for the first time in ages is only something mutually shared, shameless. theyâre so very shameless, how they long for nights now with their flesh kissing the others. where theyâd hold open their bodies and battered hearts for someone that knows this suffering of theirs too well. vulnerability, the raw feeling of it from someone passing through the cracks while equally injured, itâs another addiction. they could never go back to those days. not any time. she didnât want to, that was clear from what the felt subconsciously.)
Hmm? Youâre fine in my arms, arenât you? I could be gentle for you, how Iâd treat you and touch you.
(she followed down that path given with ease, cellinia who is comfortable and holding her like something to covet. she behaved, behaved under her loverâs touch and murmurs. cellinia can be perfect on a leash and collar when it suits her on that altar they made their vows and promises. the wolf seems to have caught what her lover wants after her lips brush against her cheek when her head tilts just right to catch her lips. the kiss they wanted, likely both craved, given with a soft sigh into maiâs lips.)
no subject
Date: 2025-04-26 09:15 pm (UTC)The only things that are real, the only things that are true, are the touches they give one another beneath the warm water. Promised words can be sweet blessings, just as easily as they can become bitter curses, yet these vows can only be certain once they're fulfilled. The disappointment of broken promises isn't unfamiliar to Mai, leaving her to force herself to only believe in whatever misery is in front of her. Yet despite this bleak determination, a part of her heart sneaks around her own blind spots, clinging to these promises of freedom beckoning her to take a taste. More than that, the parts ingrained into her soulâ the part of her that can create something out of nothingâ make her believe that she can craft a reality out of the ghosts they will become. That a worthwhile life can be born from this curse of death, and that these temporary touches can one day become a lasting embrace.
Cellinia has found what she has yearned for in this unlikely lover, and she, too, is what Mai would have desired in her lonely wishes to escape, to be protected and cherishedâ loved, even, if she could be so greedy and shameless for such a gift. Perhaps, before now, her wishes were merely aimed in the wrong direction, focused towards a target that was ever-moving. An impenetrable target, made so by the world that they shared, though a world that had shaped Mai differently due to her own weakness. Yet, her long-held wished for this devotion and dedication somehow found their way to the right person, one who was shaped similarly by a treacherous past. She was far from a white knight, but Cellinia could be a champion nonetheless, vanquishing the monsters and restoring a sad girl's feelings of worth. Violence and ugliness, the world was so full of of those thingsâ hiding within curses, family strife and broken promisesâ that Cellinia and her blood-drenched vows are the most beautiful offerings that Mai could ever hope to have in her hands.]
Right, I bet.
[She remembers, of course, that heated threat to keep Mai just out of the arms of sleep, so long as their bodies find themselves entangled in bed again. Mai scoffs humorously at the brief recollection, Cellinia's reminder that she is every bit a wolf in her appetite, as well. That's fineâ not sleeping is favorable to whatever nightmares that would certainly break through, finding a sure way to shatter their reverie. Mai would rather Cellinia drain every last bit of resistance from her bones, not leaving a shred of energy left for any terrible dreams to latch onto and take root. Sure, they can sleep eventually, when it's all they have the strength left to do after their passionate efforts. A dual payout, reallyâ indulging in that sweet ecstasy that Mai has never felt at another's hands before, and basking in the reprieve from the terrors that feed upon a vulnerable mind.
If she could will it, she would hope to dream of only Cellinia, even if her wolf was but a breath away, slumbering sweetly in her arms. But, of course, nothing is better than being able to have her in the waking moments. She'd feast upon her until her mind is full of nothing else but her lover, pushing out the monsters in favor of all of the ways that making love to her would haunt Mai splendidlyâ every kiss and touch, every shudder, those eyes that behold her, and that soothing voice that dedicates every cry and sigh and promise to Mai, and Mai alone.
Even now, she is afflicted by the same cravings that seize her lover. The soft sigh that Cellinia gifts to her in relief at resuming their kisses is responded to with a pleased hum. Addiction is rearing its head again, making her heart quicken with excitement that she gets to be as greedy as she wants, without anyone to stop her. She is most certainly fine in Cellinia's arms, if only because Cellinia won't deny her for a moment.]
Could you, now? That's a scary offer.
[She teases softly, smirking in their kisses while her fingers move to stroke at the back of her lover's head. Gentleness is rather frightening for someone who's only known cold severity. But, she won't refuse itâ she wants it, just like she wants everything she can take from this curiously generous wolf.]
Are you sure it wouldn't be more fun for you to just pick my bones clean, right now?
no subject
Date: 2025-04-27 05:33 am (UTC)what they do not know is this only becomes realer with each tick of the clock, every passing second causes them to fall deeper past the line theyâve crossed so readily. disappointment is something venomous in itself, the way that it can wrap around already tired hearts and wear them down further. hearts are interesting, but the way they could make someone feel alive again is another thing in itself. she would allow herself to be damned, damned against everything that clings to them. heaven is what they make it, this freedom she would grant her lover is something they could carefully craft themselves. they needed nobody but their own two hands which were worn and torn apart by everything. these ghosts could only become part of their souls, because as useless as their unsightly hearts are, that meant little to what they found themselves in one another. sheâs what she wished for most, a goddess that knows her pain without them saying it. that something is deeply understood without them knowing.
she gives her something that mai wanted, that love and protection that they hadnât realized. her arms fit around her like a shield, cherished, even in all the greed she has. this is a heart that so rarely is given, granted freely to those that who may get close enough. a heart that has been battered, destroyed, and treated to all the illness within this world. dragged down and threatened to stay in the dark while they could only breathe. they can only pray, hope, that they might find anew kindness that had been ripped away from them. love that they lost, affection that had been cut apart by everything. stomped out embers of being cherished, of what remains of what had been parts of themselves that once lived. once breathed, but she feels alive. the wolf feels it, she even sees it in the way maiâs eyes may light up at the little things done thus far. how she seems so lively, so beautiful when she gets that smug look on her face. how she feels self-assured or tries to be regardless of her lowly views that cellinia did not know about.
now that is true beauty, even as she listens to her and remembers that heated promise. yes, she would have done her job well. sheâd have worn her out thoroughly, into tender dreams where this beast and her hunger chase away nightmares. all the nameless monsters that lie in wait would be no match for her, her bloodstained champion. a black knight instead of a white knight who had been shaped by this wretched world into the beast that she is. still a beast, a wolf and wild. free while promising the same to any woman insane enough to risk themselves to get that far. the right person who would return to her, covered in their blood or allow her that privilege to watch while wiping away their filth from her body. to give into passion there whether she had been injured or not amidst the chaos she gave them for their much larger sins of mistreating this girl. this goddess, princess, and her little red riding hood she has in those ink covered arms.)
One that I mean.
(she murmurs into the kiss, maybe sheâd even push away those nightmares with this alone. gentleness, the haunting of her lips and touch. in both ways sheâd do that. sheâd keep her awake until mai felt ready to give in to slumber, a restful sleep that could only be granted by celliniaâs own rough and worn hands. how theyâd take so very good care of her while she carries on those notes she adores hearing, her voice is another thing cellinia loves to hear. the soft sighs, the hums, and how sheâd moan so prettily when being claimed by this wolf. this beast of hers that would hardly ever find herself satisfied with only that alone.
haunting her is only part of it, the rest? the rest is claiming her properly as hers, whenever that day may come. sheâll mark her nice and proper. with teeth tenderly sinking into her neck and not moving to clamp down further. enough to give her the love only a beast could have. how it might feel to know that she could end her, but doesnât from this love that they know not they felt together since the moment they first kissed. itâs only fitting, fitting that she does that while treating her to what it means to belong to a wolf. to a wild wolf.)
It wouldnât be as worth it if I did that, picking you clean.
(careful, little wolf, you might make her fall for you more with that. or is that the intention without you both realizing? to say that, that you wouldnât want to pick her bones clean and leave. that she would hold her in her arms, treat her so tender and gently that she would never want to leave her den? her bed, even?)
no subject
Date: 2025-04-28 11:58 am (UTC)Because it is already so very precious, this commencement of affections that are simply the answers to brokenhearted prayers. If only to assuage their brittle pride, they can pretend that they haven't been yearning for such a connection as much as they'd like to, until the truth of it refuses to be suffocated any longer. It's far too easy to lie beneath the harsh light of the day, after all, and tuck these feelings into the long shadows cast by the sun. But the merciless night strips them of this makeshift defenseâ when everything is bathed in shadow, where else can they hide from the emotions they had hoped to bury and flee from? And now, after the watchful moon has retreated after baring their darkness to one another, can these lovers truly continue to pretend that they can walk away unblemished by the other's thorns?
Ah, but how they shall long for more nights together, after coming to the silent conclusion that one was not nearly enoughâ and yet, how oblivious they are that is the night itself that has ruined them so magnificently. For the kisses they share now are far different than the ones hungrily indulged in yesterday afternoon. The tender words exchanged here carry a different weight than the easy flirtations traded as they satiated their frustrations discreetly in Cellinia's car. And when her wolf wraps her arms around her now, Mai can only feel the profound safety imbued in her throughout their night-long embrace.]
Hmm. It almost sounds to me like you're trying to play the long game, then.
[Doesn't it? Wanting to keep her forever, and treating her gently as she does, rather than sending her back in pieces as soon as she's had her fill. How endearingâ and perhaps Mai does fall just the tiniest bit more, whether or not she's aware of it. There's an unmistakable warmth in her eyes that alights in response to this reassurance, and when she brings their lips closer for another kiss, it is one that lingers more noticeably than those that came before. She can't deny it, that she definitely would have faulted Cellinia terribly if she had decided made a quick meal of Mai, instead. Time and time again, she's had to endure this very decision made for her, but now it slowly dawns on Mai, creeping into the openings of her heart split apart by the beautifully scheming nightâ that she tires of it. She tires of being left behind, of never being enough, of being forced to swallow fear when all she wants is to feel safe. And she tires of always being hurt, while never being loved.
There isn't a doubt in her mind that Cellinia means every word she says. And even if Mai can't bring herself to say it aloud, she believes her. Instinctively, she brings the hand that was upon her lover's leg to her own hip, where she caresses Cellinia's hand, there. That secure feeling burgeons beneath her skin, warming her far better than the heat of the water that envelops them both.]
You're a lot more patient than I would have guessed.
[It goes without saying that Cellinia is patient where Mai is sorely lackingâ though when it comes to that decision that the wolf had placed in her hands, that major decision, it's not a matter of patience on Mai's part. Rather, it's the fear that she still finds herself choking on. Yet if she can burrow in the safety that Cellinia promises, then that fear might someday loosen it's deadly hold on her. This wolf's patience shall be put to the test, but the reward promises to be oh so satisfying.]
I'm still deciding if I like it. But, I guess you're welcome to go on and savor me to your heart's content, until I figure it out.
[One more white lie to be filed awayâ of course she likes it. Mai claims another kiss, a savoring of her own because why let Cellinia have all the fun? Though, Mai craves something deeper, a more intimate connection. This position, though comfortable and sweet, hinders her desire, and so she draws herself forward so that she may shift and face Cellinia properly. Oh, but not even this is enough for herâ she braces her hands on the edge of the tub behind her lover's back while moving to place her knees on either side of Cellinia's hips, straddling her lap. Much better. Now she may kiss her unimpeded, and Mai still wants to lather those cute ears of hers. She can do all of it easily enough, in this position. Yes, they're still behaving⊠]
I'm sure you'll be good and wait for me, though.
no subject
Date: 2025-04-29 03:35 am (UTC)those brokenhearted prayers, hope, and desires were futile. pride was something fickle, something that others abused to stomp upon those that were weaker. but itâs suffocating. how could one woman ignore it? much less two, both of them do themselves no favors in their ignorance and damning. they hide their hearts, what remains of them, and long to fill whole underneath it all. yet finding that someone has a steep price, a price perhaps too heavy for their already tired souls. longing destroys, so does letting in someone that would abuse that in a desire to feel love. that love which they so grant one another without realizing, the tender poison while those poisonous flowers in their garden they share lie in wait to one day bloom beautifully into something wicked. something that would never allow in another soul that might try to break it apart. nobody else could enter their world, their world of blood and rain. their world of thorns pricking into their skin as they fall apart to what had been missing, they need not admit that.
because itâs clear as day, they want more than a single night. that night which ruined them without thinking about it could only wait in the background, how it flexes itâs grasp on their minds to sink into them. their kisses, their flirtations, are different from what had been part of an idea that itâs only purely physical. physical love is easier, easier to those who might detach only for it to crush the ones that thirst for more. that are too tired of being used by those around them. itâd suffocate them more to deny that they crave beyond it, but weaknesses would often be used against them in many ways. in celliniaâs old world, itâd even kill those foolish enough to allow themselves to be weak. to open their hearts knowing that the cost is past something that can be paid with money. that could only be paid in blood when love comes into the picture.
she would know it, she denied love to one poor soul who felt it towards her often. for her, it was nothing. a chase of something physical, less than satisfactory. but that was a pair of young girls fooling around, or what could be thought of as along those lines as one woman sought to claim her as her own. it failed, if only because cellinia does not allow herself to be tied down by anyone. she is still wild, still free, but she knows what she thinks she wants. what this wolf wants is seeping into reality from this dreamlike world theyâre within together. she could see that light in maiâs eyes, how it reacts to learning she wonât pick her bones clean and leave. did she get hurt by people who did that often, is something the wolf thinks about for the moment. how much of it was pain caused by others who came into her bed? they must have never treated her with tender love, only a desire to get theirs and leave while offering promises that were never going to be fulfilled by the women that wanted her for the night.
how tired this girl must be to seek out warm affections from a beast who could have just as easily snapped her jaws on her for trying. she does not lash out, she only holds her. a pair of hands comfortably around her waist while offering more warmth than they had ever gave her. the wolf is something sweet in how some might think her words are lies, that she must be searching for a meal. reality as is typical, is not something theyâd consider. she doesnât look at her as a meal between each lingering kiss, the words were something she means in those whispers and vows. the darkly given promises of blood waiting to be spilled if mai gives her wolf and wicked knight the word. itâs instinct that causes her hand to pause its movements to relax in her loverâs hold. the brush of her soft fingers against rough skin, itâs soothing in itself.
warm, protective in how cellinia holds her. reassuring that theyâd both grant this safety to each other that has long since avoided them. patience is something she knows too well, cellinia is patient despite the way she can be hungry for mai to the point of surpassing it. sheâs one of the more calmer predators that someone could ever dream about. willing to wait, willing to allow her to feel more than that fear which grips her by the throat and chokes her. this wolf is offering her goddess quite the rewards if she did decide one day soon to answer that desire for bloody vengeance that has been long overdue for her kin.)
I can be patient, more than I can come off as.
(but thatâs only part of the fun, the wait. the long hunt, she would chase this girl and give her everything that those fools never had. sheâd shower her in affections that only the broken could give, while making more tender love to her the more these nights carry on between them. not just the urge for sex, for something physical, but seeking past that in how their warmth can only be shared between their weary souls. their bitter and jaded hearts which would have wept and called this a mockery of the pain theyâve suffered. she can tell her remark is another lie, another attempt at hiding it. how much she likes it, how much this girl craves it while sitting in her lap and indulging in kisses which theyâd get carried away eventually in sharing. all despite the word given that theyâd both behave long enough to bathe.
the wolf is dragged from her idle thoughts when mai shifts, her hands temporarily parting from her loverâs body while she watches her move to face the wolf proper. amber eyes land again on hazel, the two of them face to face while her little red riding hood straddles her. itâs instinct that causes cellinia to wrap her arms back around her, to rest one along her back while the other returns to itâs spot against her hip. between the kiss her lover takes, and how she savors it. cellinia reminds herself again, she must behave, but it feels impossible from the line before their eyes. how misbehaving is a temptation that is dangling without issue, waiting for them to step over it and fall again.)
Iâd always wait. Thatâs not even something I could deny.
no subject
Date: 2025-04-30 05:36 am (UTC)It's funny, how much easier physical love alone can be. That any amorous pair can simply bare their bodies to one another, not an ounce of love required for the way they'll give and take in their passions. All they would need are lips to bite and feast, hands to grab and possessâ but only for a spell, because what is a claim without love, other than a pleasure that is just as fleeting as any other that can be grasped at in this life? Cellinia can think of her past dalliances as being nothing, for Mai certainly will of her ownâ nothing but an escape from the inescapable, the anguish that is never too far behind. Yet, what they have now, together, is certainly far from nothing. When they pressed their bodies together, the wounds of their heart practically wept in relief, the blood of their painful short years mingling like a most poisonous curse.
But isn't the yearning for a love that can only be paid for with tainted blood such a marvel? How could it be anything other than the highest price and the highest honor? Surely, both Mai and Cellinia have witnessed such currency change hands before, if only from their family's dealings, legitimate or otherwise. They were two well-pedigreed young women, raised in the grandeur of acclaimed lineages whose wealth of achievements were held before them as examples of how they ought to prove their worth. Every honor and every accolade that could ever matter in their critical eyes has a priceâ and generously-spilled blood would triumph every time.
That it should be no different for this budding romance of theirs, is something that these lovers can leave out of their thoughts, for now. Their hands are still unsullied, as they brush against one another's affectionately beneath the water.]
You're a humble one, aren't you?
[Yes, she's plenty aware that her wolf is merely stating an unadorned truth, but the teasing still falls from her well-kissed lips easily enough. A truthfulness slithers beneath the banterâ Mai can forgive that Cellinia's patience far exceeds her own, but she refuses to accept a humility that is unbecoming of a beast so magnificent. The image of her wolf's lifeless eyes is irrevocably seared into her mind, after all. She can hardly fathom what atrocities had caused you to fall to such depths, Cellinia, but she can certainly believe that whatever strength it took to claw out of that abyss is worth the dignity that it deserves. So what, if even this pride is one that puts her own fragile ego to shame? One day, even Cellinia with her perceptive eyes, can see that Mai has long-since accepted that her own self-assurance would forever pale in the face of those whose tenacity she'd quietly admire.]
I guess I'll have to watch you carefully, hm? Do you think I can learn a thing or two, then?
[About nurturing a patience that could keep her impulsive nature at bay for as long as they decide to be involved with each other. Sardonically, she laughs again, their lips but a hairsbreadth apart between these soft kisses. Perhaps she means it only in jest, teasing the possibility of being a good enough student for once in her life to learn a virtue that seemed ill-placed in her character to begin withâ a goddess, sitting at the feet of her own devotee. How amusing she finds you, sweet wolf, that she would flirt with the idea of following your example and taking a lesson in patience, of all things, from a beast. Let patience remain the folly of humans, along with humilityâ but Cellinia does wear both so attractively.
She draws back from their kisses, already impatient for more, and already accepting that she could never, ever truly cloak herself in such a virtue for the sake of handling these curious new feelings with the gentleness one would expect. Her hands stroke along Cellinia's ears againâ can't she ever get enough, greedy girl?â and over her steam-dampened hair, until they find themselves cupping her jaw. Mai looks down at her from this position, and the thoughts of her lover's strange perfection tumble in her mind. There are the parts of her that are frightening, that would give any sane person pauseâ her wolfish features and the canvas of her flesh sporting well-storied tattoos and scars. Then there are aspects of her that are rather adorable, those same sharp ears that give Mai the sweetest reactions when she indulges in her impulse to play with them. And there are the parts that Mai finds utterly arrestingâ Cellinia's beauty, her eyes so reverent, and the siren song that her dark heart beckons to Mai with. How could all of this be hers, be Mai's? The laws of this universe must be breaking, broken, just as they had been the moment she took her first breath.
Mai keeps these thoughts to herself, of course, as her thumbs caress idly at Cellinia's cheeks, but the silence has gone on a beat too long for her to hide these thoughts behind a snarky remark or another greedy kiss. Could this be another mistake, that she lets her walls fall a bit more, this way? That she doesn't make the effort to distract Cellinia from her mind's wandering with another good-natured barb? Perhaps what she wishes to do next might count as a distractionâ though more for herself, than anything. She reaches for one of the shampoo bottles she had lined up, and with her free hand, rubs at one of Cellinia's ears again.]
Let me�
[A question only asked out of the courtesy of voicing her intentions. Much like the other times she has played the well-mannered young miss (a joke, for she was only ever passable at best), she lets the facade crumble upon itself in favor of letting her true amusement shine through.]
no subject
Date: 2025-04-30 10:10 am (UTC)physical love, it could be easier. not to think too much, to touch and consume then move on while pretending they would be fine. that something more was not worth the effort in their lives while ignoring that spark, the spark which struck between them. sometimes people might find it easier to act as though that never happened, cellinia can be guilty of it knowing her past with one person. she wonât think much about it with the number of people mai might have been hurt by with the expectation of desiring more, of wanting more than a single night only for it to go ignored by those she cried out to silently. this is more than that nothing they gave her, their bodies fit together nicely and that poison of love they ignore mingles through their veins. in their blood, their hearts, how far down could it go? might it reach their souls? rot them further in love and venom that could only be shared in a curse as ruinous as this that theyâve cast upon one another?
exchanges like this, promised with tainted blood and love are always dangerous, risky. watching as grown men give up their lives for this, their honor and their everything like theyâve realized they amount to nothing without it. without love, theyâre nothing. without the object of their desire, theyâre worthless. worthless fools who could only be strung about like puppets dancing for those that might even find their pain funny, how far theyâre willing to go or if theyâd pay the ultimate price for the honor bestowed upon them. as girls of their pedigree, itâs only natural theyâve seen it themselves. how love ruins and destroys them. how anything could destroy people from their respective worlds, prices were paid at a large cost and they would know it. because theyâve seen it so often, cellinia herself has. even in the world of plays that she had been dragged to by another friend in her childhood that wished to indulge in the arts. that saw herself as a playwright as time went on with the desire to write them. but cellinia did not care for wealth, the grandeur of it. she saw throwing it around as pointless.
blood might be spilled, eventually. their hands could not remain clean forever, yet thatâs a given. for a romance like theirs, there would be no innocence. no fairy-tale could compare to what this story would bring them. theyâd make them all pale in comparison to it, to their own lives which twist and turn. that the darkly given vows would only grow further as they keep falling harder, more for this goddess before the wolf and this wolf before her. but enough about that, their hands are more busy in tender affections given to one another as they lounge in the bath.)
Mm, Iâm not one for bragging.
(arrogance was never her thing, what they get instead is cold truth. the atrocities of the past were many, none good. nothing sheâd ever mention when their lips part briefly, barely any space is there between them. humility is something imparted in her. something that she never let go of even once, her strength is only in part due to her own resolutions. her decision in knowing what she could have had happened. had she gone another way, she would have been lost. maybe she might show you, mai, how far sheâs willing to go for you. how much sheâs willing to give in her own desire to push out of despair. despair, death, and blood that had grown to be a common occurrence. tenacity that she held like it was something her life depended on whenever cellinia had begun to piece herself together again. this strength, however, is not easy to obtain, and she recognizes that. not everyone has it in them to keep going after what sheâs gone through. breaking from a cycle is never easy.)
Maybe. Thatâs if you want to.
(if she wants to be a good student, maybe this wolf can show her goddess so much more. plenty more than their respective worlds could have given her. they didnât deserve to have these delights that she would give mai, the romance and how sheâd touch her. the gifts she gives her goddess that sits comfortably in her lap while she stops her head from wandering into less than chaste thoughts from their closeness. she finds you endearing, beautiful goddess, knowing that would be a struggle. she wouldnât make you learn these lessons unless you desired it. a lesson in which theyâd both find themselves taking their time more. but, mai wears impatience so well. as she does, her smugness, her pride. cellinia finds them both attractive parts of her love to the point of often saying it.
ah, even cellinia wants more kisses whenever they part again. she doesnât look away, not from her lover with those reverent eyes. how they stare so full of devotion once more. those ears of hers twitch into the strokes of soft fingers while her wolf starts to melt again to the touch theyâre granted. they do (of course) droop in disappointment to her hands leaving again. fickle things that delight in the affection she gives them, but she canât divert her gaze. cellinia finds herself getting lost in her, in her eyes while their poor darkened hearts call out to one another. a demand and a wish for this love theyâve been starved of for so long. this girl, she wants to make her so badly into hers. only hers. theyâd never stop her if cellinia had her say, not even the universe would prevent her from that desire. the broken rules of it could burn, too.
she neednât think too much while leaning into her loverâs hands, a kiss pressed to the palm of one at first while maiâs thumbs rub into fair cheeks. the distraction of her hand going back to her ears is helpful, to deter any other thoughts from breaching into their dream. reality being pushed away again while cellinia melts to maiâs hand giving her ears attention. the ear she strokes happily twitches into it while her wolf nuzzles against her hand. how cute of her, before her attention falls back on the now. on mai speaking and holding that bottle, this is another privilege not so easily granted. touching her ears, theyâre sensitive, you know? because of that, thereâs only one thing that can be said. knowing that mai has earned this rarest of privileges.)
Go ahead, Mai, touch them as much as you want to. Be careful, they can be sensitive....
(setting herself up for future trouble, but itâs apparent that her ears are sensitive. her tail even is in a certain spot, were mai to reach for the base and stroke at it more. aside from the typical with not wanting it pulled roughly or too hard. that would make her bite any poor bastards that went that far.)
no subject
Date: 2025-05-01 08:45 am (UTC)Though, of course bragging isn't Cellinia's style. Another hallmark of one who has found their rhythm in an otherwise ruthless world. Her life can speak for itself, the untethered way she lives her days. And whoever she answers toâ for doesn't everyone answer to someone, no matter how free one is?â must not leash her all that tightly, if at all. That alone might be something brag-worthy, if Cellinia would ever give herself the indulgence.
Really, what else does boasting serve, other than a way to fill a bothersome and profound emptiness with lofty words? As much as she loathes it, Mai can recognize this in her own attitude, a compulsion she doesn't even bother fighting. There are quite a few aspects of her life that she is reluctant to challenge, aren't there? Like the chains of her bloodline shackling her tightly to the source of her own despair, knowing she'll return no matter how badly she might hope to flee. Still, despite being so love-starved and afraid to sever her own bonds, something in the way Cellinia watches her dares to reinforce the possibility that she can still deserve to be rebuilt after she shatters apart for this affection. Maybe she can't be patient, or humble, or even strong enough to hold her ownâ but could she be something to be loved forever? What would she have to do, what would she have to change, for her to truly be certain of it? What a questionâ she thought she had long since grown tired of asking it.
Mai is painfully aware, that if she wished to be anything different, she would just be a sorry imitation of the brilliant examples of true freedom around her, right? It's hard enough to fathom becoming a better iteration of her sorry self, joking suggestions aside. Cellinia's nonchalant reply makes it clear that she doesn't wish to impress any change that Mai isn't willing to make. Another thing this wolf recognizes, surely, is that her own tenacity is in a class unparalleled.]
It's always, 'if you want you,' with you.
[There isn't any real gravity in the frustration within this remark, but it would be a lie if Mai didn't find herself struggling a bit with the freedom of choice that Cellinia never fails to offer her. Surely it's nothing more than generosity, a marked lack of pushiness that is otherwise commonplace in Mai's life. Her keen wolf might even be able to see that it's still difficult to shake old habitsâ ones that have Mai drawn to easy decisions, a path she doesn't need to think too hard about because everything is already outlined for her. She hates it, of course, hates every decision she has been powerless to stop. And maybe she hates that she can see a divergence in this structured path, now, one that Cellinia's influence creates for her, whether her lover is aware of this or not.
If Mai is fortunate, this perceptive wolf might not be able to sense her trepidation at taking the first step upon this forked road. She'll dare to turn away from the familiar, and reach into the haze of hushed promises and a warmth that she might happily let burn her alive.]
Oh, I know they are.
[She murmurs, her palm tingling from the kiss Cellinia gives her there. Mai knows that those ears are rather sensitive to touch, especially those of a more tender nature. How adorable, that they so clearly miss her fingers when they droop the second that they're bereft. It's such an easy affection to give, that Mai is only too happy to do so. The sight, the feel of Cellinia nuzzling into her touch as soon as she resumes is something that Mai cherishes with obvious pleasure. Her eyes light up at the permission given. It's far better than a mere 'Yes, go ahead,' or some other dry manner of approval. Cellinia makes it plain that Mai has the special privilege of touching as much as she wants to, so long as she does so with care.]
Don't worry, I'll be nice and gentle for you.
[She'll coo it almost suggestively, though she'll no doubt keep her word. Let not the sparkle of mischief in her eyes give the impression of any hidden, wicked intentions. Mai will be good, and she'll show you that she's just as capable of behaving, Cellinia. Yes, she can be a surprisingly good girl when she has something that she wants to proveâ a worthiness, in this case, of handling something so delicate. It's fitting, for her hands were never meant for the harshness of battle or gruesome slaughtering. Mai would much rather have luxurious, plush sensations beneath her fingertips. In another lifetime, she supposes, if she had been born the talented niece of the family head, instead of the disappointment she ended up being. A pointless cycle of terrible thoughtsâ Mai is perfectly fine making do with what she has before her, now. The beautiful, soft ears of a strangely patient wolf are quite the consolation prize, no? One might think them better than any finery she might have enjoyed had her position in life been any less dismal. She can do it, Mai believesâ she can return the favor and treat Cellinia like she herself is a treasure.
Who can say, this might be a rare privilege for the wolf to have for herself, a sweeter Mai that so few are ever so lucky to experience. And the others who have been witness to this side of her aren't without scratches and bruises from her callous natureâ ah, but Cellinia has earned herself a fair handful of her own, hasn't she? Though, of a far different natureâŠ
No matter, Cellinia has asked her to treat her carefully, and so Mai shall do just that. Slowly, she scoops handfuls of water gently over her ears and hair, stroking her head gently whenever her palm is empty. She takes particular care not to spill anything over her lover's face or past the protective fluff of the wolfish ears, humming thoughtfully to herself periodically as she carries out her task. It's an exercise in tenderness, one that she thinks herself clumsy at despite doing well enough. She wants more chances, after all, of enjoying those sweet ears that twitch happily for her.
One satisfied, Mai pours a bit of shampoo between her hands and begins to lather it at Cellinia's crown to start. The soft fragrance fills the steamy air between them, a scent that Mai wouldn't mind breathing in deeply whenever she cuddles against her lover next. Her fingers then ease the bubbles over the slick fur of Cellinia's ears, and a rather agreeable smile plays upon her lips as she gets to indulge in this little act of grooming. She only half-stifles a laugh at how darling Cellinia looks like this, with the dark fur contrasting against the pale foam.]
CuteâŠ
no subject
Date: 2025-05-02 10:01 am (UTC)that love is all theyâd ever need in this cruel world. she steps about with her world unrestrained, alive. nothing could stop her and not even her boss cares to do such a thing, if she was still breathing and alive, then who was he to stop that? her indulgences were a part of her living, just the same way that she offers a chance at holding the leash to an animal such as herself. that wolf who allows herself calmly to wait until that day her teeth would be stained in blood and the blood of those who sullied a goddess. the taint of it being something that would never wash away easily. not as long as she breathes, not as long as they seek to hurt this poor lonesome girl.
how is that not something worthy of bragging about? look at this beautiful beast, this beast which mai has in her hands. she can hold her, she can touch her as she pleases. even watch as this beast brings the world to her, at her feet and held out as an offering from this disgraceful and sinful knight. her sins which would never be absolved, used as a means of entangling them further into one another. their souls mingling, their hearts holding tightly on to what is dangled out before them. why wouldnât they? they longed for love, they ignore it so desperately without knowing that itâs too late for them to step away from what it deemed to be their time. this sweetness that would suffocate and drown them together in rain and blood. let that garden bloom, the venomous flowers of poison and darkly whispered vows. change is not something the wolf would force upon her goddess, but she would surely be there in their eternal vows as the one thatâd never leave her side. that sheâd surrender to her love as a means of showing her that she may rebuild the same way this broken mess of a woman before the little goddess did. the answer to her questions would take time, and cellinia herself could not answer them for her.
she recognizes not the way mai hesitates to take the first step, but this is a dance of two. in harmony, they must step about, they must dance and move the way the rhythm before them dictates. or the way that cellinia might bring them both true freedom in how she grants these choices, allowing her more than the suffocating feeling of oppression that came from the forced decisions of monsters that felt it necessary to press upon this girl their ideas. their means of calling agony to her tired mind and body could only be considered another mark to the list of misdeeds that were committed to this girl. all which would be paid in blood when the time comes, if ever, for such a thing to be done by her willing knight. when she said that this choice is maiâs own, she means it. humility is not something cellinia expects of her, truly, she expects this girl to be whatever she feels her true self must be. be it that goddess who in all her pride stands above the men and women, the wretched bastards who did this to her as being absolved of their damnation or as the little red riding hood who wants to be whisked away by a wolf.
cellinia means the words âif you want toâ as placing upon mai freedoms that were never granted to her, not without the intention of abusing it for whatever choice they felt she made wrong. her lover may not be aware of it, not of how her presence causes her goddess to have her perception changed, but itâs interesting. the way that she breaks the maze to pieces while giving mai more ways to traverse it. showing her each path, her pace set about on a slow trail while calling out from hidden shortcuts or walls that cellinia destroyed personally. thatâs only fitting she did, she has that way about her. dancing along while pausing in her wild steps, the steps of a storm called a beast and woman, to treat a girl with tenderness that she never once had in her life.
theyâll burn, theyâll fly, theyâll drift away under the sea granted them. this is their roads, their maze, and their own paths to take. nobody would take away from mai this chance if cellinia could help it, cellinia might even go as far as to give to her everything her battered heart has held itself together with. if it means that she never does without again, sheâd do that. those are promises given under the moon that would be upheld in the most tender of ways if the wolf were to eventually swear it to her.)
Thought youâd notice.
(because thatâs clear, her ears are sensitive things. she murmurs it in kind, amber eyes looking up at her lover through her lashes. she must look lovely, making eye contact like this while her ears seem happy with the attention theyâre getting. cellinia doesnât just nuzzle into anyone the way she does maiâs hand, she doesnât let any random person touch those cute ears of hers. she also doesnât give them the permission that sheâs granted mai, either. granting her free rein over them and the opportunity to touch them to her hearts content as a delight that can be kept between them. ah, her goddess lit up brighter at how she granted her those words. how it makes cellinia want to kiss her again. deeply, soft, and melting. sheâs not, if only because they did need to behave for the moment, long enough to finish this bath.)
Iâll kiss you plenty if you do....
(the words flow out, a soft murmur and purr in the sweet offering. that near suggestive coo almost lights her on fire again, sheâs going to watch closely now, mai. those soft hands are her favorite part of her lover, although, cellinia might remark, all of her is lovely. those hands and her voice are especially, her lips are another. how they seem to call out to her, the kiss of them being a beautiful song that coaxes from the wolf such wonderful notes. the wolfâs fluffy ears sit patiently, a near twitch of them at the attention theyâre getting. that must be a rarity for this part of the wolf, then. from how prickly she is, it would take considerable time to get near touching them. another thing for mai to feel pride in of her own, who can say that they get to freely touch the ears of a beast? not many, or perhaps nobody else could. that mai wants to try and treat cellinia like a treasure is fine with her wolf, too. sheâll have to spoil her further in return, be it by making tender love with her again on their altar or more chaste moments of calm in their weary lives.
she appreciates it, how mai gives cellinia a gift of her own in what she offers in a quiet moment. amber eyes follow those hands she would kiss along plenty, until mai reaches for the water to wet along the fur of her sharp ears. the wolf relaxes beneath her, her head tilted slightly back to help her goddess in her own want to be tender with her wolf.
her hums are what cellinia focuses on, for now. cute, is something she thinks to herself. clumsy attempts or not, theyâre welcomed attempts at tender affection. enough that her ears twitch along idly to gentle rubs of her head. cellinia for her part is rubbing maiâs back again, slowly, affection given and returned during the task at hand while theyâre in a more comfortable moment of love and care. sheâll wash her loverâs back in return for this, as another step between them in a moment of domestic bliss that never once could have been granted to them.
for a moment, celliniaâs eyes close, but not without her stoic expression softening into something relaxed. like sheâs melting to her loverâs touch at the scent of lavender shampoo filling the air, a soft and soothing scent. those ears of hers, they twitch again into maiâs capable fingers before relaxing. perhaps she might even look far too adorable for someone that could end lives without a second thought, especially after those lovely eyes open half-lidded at the sound of laughter from her lover. the melody of it, half-stifled or not, grabbing the wolfâs attention with the single word uttered. âcuteâ.)
Cute, am I?
no subject
Date: 2025-05-04 07:49 am (UTC)But if Mai should decide to never loose her precious wolf upon the monsters who wouldn't hesitate to ripe her to shreds themselves, perhaps this leash could at least tether to her side for as long as she wishes. Forever, if her heart could even fathom an eternity that would desire her uninspired existence. Yet it's true, they have made eternal vows without even considering the gravity of their wordsâ a leash of its own, binding them to the mistress of destiny. The dark longings that stew in their hearts only make these vows all the more concrete, even if these lovers can only see the dark waves of misery rushing over their feet. Believing themselves unable to grasp this pact, this budding love, neither realize that it is love that grasps them. That it speaks to Mai through Cellinia's promise and her wordless devotion, and that speaks to Cellinia through Mai's loneliness, her desperation to be kept safe.
Who shall they be, in the end? A broken soul might not see the choices held out to them, might not see them as true paths meant for them to follow. So who shall these two become, the longer they dance in one another's arms, to the rhythm of Fate, the melody of love that builds ever-slowly as they find their footing? Would they waltz to the hymn dedicated to a proud goddess and her most ardent follower, who pays her tribute in the blood of tormentors? Or would theirs be a simple little tune, a lullaby telling of how this little red riding hood remained in the depths of the forest with her wolf, leaving behind her quest in favor of freedom? Cellinia, world-worn as she is, recognizes that this is what waits at the end of the maze she deconstructsâ freedom. To claim it, all Mai needs to do is allow her own eyes to adjust to something greater than the narrow path of certain despair, and take that hand held out to her.
What her eyes take in at this moment, though, is enough to assuage the fear of traversing this maze. Cellinia watching Mai from beneath her dark lashes, how she moves and caresses her ears, as if there was nothing more interesting in this world than her. Watching her hands, and promising her kisses for a considerate touch. And what a promise that is, how easy it is for her generous wolf to offer such rewards. Mai doesn't respond to that promise right away with words, rather, a knowing grin as she holds Cellinia's head tenderly, dipping her head low enough to steal a quick kiss before she's finished with her task. Hasn't she already earned it, though? She can tell that Cellinia is all too keen on laying claim to her lips again.]
Hmph. You want to kiss me plenty, already.
[And the feeling is mutual, can it be any more obvious? For now, though, they'll simply have to make do with letting their hands fulfill what their lips cannot. At first, Mai arches slightly in response to Cellinia's palms running slowly along her back, before quickly easing into how soothing it feels. It feeds the fire of her own yearnings, too, you know. How she longs to press her body fully against her lover's, drape her arms about her neck and do more than sneak a single kiss. But, that would veer dangerously into 'misbehaving' territory, wouldn't it? They'd never make it out of the tub. Mai would be fine with that.
The dance they take part in now is merely a warm-upâ it's so very important to be good when it's called for, if only so they can be as bad as they please afterward. Can their kisses stay just kisses, once they begin again? It's difficult to say for certain, with how they've discovered how splendid it is to bury themselves in a blissful affection that simply doesn't exist out there, in that dreary outside world. What began as a hunger for something purely carnal now begins to cloak itself in something soft and caring, forgiving in how they wordlessly absolve one another of sins they dare not yet share.
Here, together while they still have daylight to take advantage of, they can cleanse one another of the stains that mar them. Here, Mai can comb her soapy fingers through Cellinia's hair, admiring how silkily it catches the light before she works the foam along the strands. They really do have to tidy up, and why not help one another out a little? Cellinia is more than welcome to assist Mai however she desiresâ whenever Mai has decided that she's gotten her fill of playing with her cutely twitching ears. Not yet, not yet, and she'll not conceal her mirth at Cellinia's curiosity.]
Mm-hmm.
[There's no denying it, or even trying to justify herself at this fact. Cellinia is very cute, especially like this, head tipped back and eyes half-open and watching Mai's little amusement at it. Is it a word that she's only heard a handful of times to describe her? How sadâ though Mai can't bring herself to pity the ones who might've missed the chance to compliment her for being so agreeable beneath them.]
And if you're going to tell me that you'd rather be scary, don't. Because I don't like scary things at all.
[Doesn't Cellinia want to be liked by her? Mai's tone seems to convey this cheeky remark beneath her declaration, though they both know that they want the other to like themâ and they both know that they already do.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-06 06:47 am (UTC)everything that family had stripped away of her might become a distant memory if thatâs her decision, be it to leave them or end them. this is a gift of devotion, of worship and darker longings. promises uttered that nobody sane would consider. eternity isnât enough, not for the broken souls like theirs. with or without considering the gravity of their vows uttered underneath a moonlit night, what good did overthinking it do? it did nothing. what cellinia does is take fate into her own hands, her way. it may threaten to rip her to shreds, it might even one day kill her as fast as she came into this world. they give out love their worn down souls had longed for.
they embrace misery and wash it away in absolution. they break away maze walls and loneliness to a truth they do not face. that is love. budding romance, a budding love would both make and unmake them. at the end of it, they didnât need anything more than that while they breathed. while they danced under the moonlight, fate is nothing and neither is destiny in the arms of a lover. like those stories, the fairy tales that they both have long since stopped believing in when they proved to be fake in their longing for something to change. the only difference being one girl took it upon herself to force the change she had been after, the other has given up to the nameless devils that torment her and more in a desire for them fade away. for what might one day be vindication, or perhaps even release from their grasp in true freedom while they disappear off to somewhere theyâd never find her again.
isnât it always so obvious? she has a craving for her lips that has yet to fade, that hasnât stopped since their first kiss. how she can kiss this girl so tenderly, how she can kiss her in a breathless and graceless mess while their bodies are pressed tight together. they donât need reality, either. not as long as theyâre together. reality is only something that both girls can make their own in the way they desire it. though one might be more experienced in that than the other after her hard-earned freedom from a life she found herself hating more. as she lived it, she found herself so tired. so full of anger at the audacity, the way that it destroyed those around them for only a desire to live themselves. it crushed them, it ended them. but enough about that, what she has her eyes on is something real. something in her grasp without realizing when she hums softly into the stolen kiss and tender grasp of her head.
as expected, her desire is always going to be evident in that regard.
the smile is all the sweeter, how her goddess leans more into her body and melts at her hands tender affections. mai was right, theyâd not make it out of the tub if she did. did cellinia care? no, she didnât. sheâd touch her more for that, sheâd decorate her collar in fresher marks and kisses while their bodies near mingle together. to allow the world to fade away for a little longer in each touch and brush of their skin, each nip of teeth along sensitive places. each kiss given delicately as they please or tenderly on both blemished and unblemished flesh. their bodies are something they can lay claim on. something that theyâd mark themselves as theirs in this prelude. this dance theyâre doing together of many throughout their lives with their partner being another weary soul who makes them feel home.
their sins arenât worth that effort of considering, they didnât need the attention. attention that they both seem more keen on giving to one another, knowing their kisses would rarely stay only a kiss for long is only part of it. burying themselves in this warmth is more than worth the effort of their tired souls to keep going. because their sins could stay far away in this embrace, their hearts could feel something more than the dreadful weight that drags them down off into bottomless pits, until that hand offered by both sides reached out further. into the maze, into the bottomless pit of their lives.
sheâll do whatever mai needed her to do when her lover gets her fill, of those cute ears that happen to be twitching for her when her fingers brush against their fur. the fluff of them, even. she does clean up nicely, donât you think? so far, anyway. between that and how the black and red strands of her hair is something smooth in itself. soft and easy to run her fingers along through, to card them and play with it as a more chaste distraction to their constant want of one another.
itâs only another thing, another part of themselves that they grant when cellinia catches the mirth in maiâs eyes. how itâs genuinely cuter of her than the wolf. it suits her more, the twinkle of mischief, of something softer in a normally prickly girl that wears her edges like a suit of armor. but can the wolf be blamed for her curiosity? sheâs hardly ever been called this seriously. cute, that is.)
Mm? I donât need to be scary with you.
(another crack, another serious remark. what good was frightening her lover? she did want her to stay, she wanted her near. cellinia didnât need to be scary for her, she didnât even want to drive her away from her arms. if anything, she wanted more than that enough that her greed might be the scary part while she sits calmly for her lover. allowing her to take in this cute sight of her melting, to see her at ease and compliant.
thatâs another sweeter prize in itself, one that theyâd never know about. the words whispered, the promises, and how cellinia gets flushed pink at such words. faint, but she canât hide it from mai. itâs doubtful that she ever could for long knowing the way she tends to get underneath the surface and how cellinia presents herself.)
no subject
Date: 2025-05-08 04:32 am (UTC)Yet, in a way, Mai can recognize the slivers of what she seeks, dancing in the shadows where her lover's vows lurk in the meantime. Because Cellinia isn't her mirror, no. Whenever her hazel eyes trail over her, drinking in every inch with an unsatisfied curiosity, everything upon the surface reminds her that this wolf is far from being her reflection. But in a way, is there not a novel manner of comfort to be found in this simple fact? Cellinia needs not be exactly what Mai seeksâ but rather, something far greater than what she might have ever fathomed. She doesn't know it now, of course, the two of them still fresh in this bizarre affair of theirs, yet Mai can be perceptive, as well. A force of habit from the life she needed to survive. This, too, is something she'll have to surviveâ this new feeling that will almost certainly tear her heart into the prettiest of pieces to be put back together again
Taking care of her lover with these chaste little touches are a fine distraction from the gravity of what this all really means, anyway. Mai's hands leave those happily twitching ears in favor of soaping up the rest of Cellinia's hair, laying sections of sudsy strands over her shoulders and covering her lovely and bitten bosom as she finishes them. White bubbles clinging to the black-red locks dissolve into the water as soon as the ends kiss the surface. It'll all get washed off, eventually, but this only adds to the cute image of the wolf sitting patiently beneath herâ her hair half-covered in the foam of the sweet-smelling shampoo, the bulk of it coating her fluffy ears like airy little clouds. Oh, but the sweetest part of this is that unmistakable flush gracing her cheeks. Faint or not, Mai gleefully takes pleasure in this sight, feeling like she's getting exactly what she wants. Spoiled girl, really.]
Well, that's a relief.
[As always, the soft mocking in her voice is thinly-veiled. Maybe she is a tad relieved, though, hearing it from Cellinia's lips. Her honest little wolf, reminding her once again that their time spent with one another is not a spell of false benevolence, concealing what nature would otherwise dictate of a beast. But it's her blushing that betrays the most, an expression wholly unbefitting of someone who might have intended to act every bit the frightening encounter for a petulant girl. Cellinia openly declares that she harbors no such intentionsâ and this only makes her all the more charming. Enough so that Mai dares to pepper light kisses across the pink hue of her cheeks. Is there any point in resisting? It's fineâ there's nothing salacious about these kisses. Not yet, anyway.]
You wouldn't get this far if you did.
[Though, the same can be said for the both of themâ had Cellinia been anything more terrifying from the get-go, Mai would have quietly retreated, likely cursing her typical laziness for putting her in the path of something that would only inspire more nightmares. Whenever she can avoid it, she's all too happy to close her eyes to the terrors that seem to slink around every corner. It's fortunate that Cellinia, for all of her menacing decorationsâ hereditary or otherwiseâ is still more cute than scary. Yet, who does this luck seems to favor more, little red riding hood or her wolf? The correct answer is almost certainly both of them.
Mai's fingers are once more caressing the soaped-up fur of Cellinia's sharp ears once she acknowledges that she'll be needing to rinse it all off before long. She sits up just enough to lean forward and reach up for the handheld shower head with her free hand, and before she returns to sit fully on Cellinia's lap again, Mai leans in to one well-lathered ear and murmurs cheekily.]
Just be scary for everyone else, then.
[Mai knows it's a tall ask, impossible even, not at all a productive one if Cellinia is to keep being a working girl. And who knowsâ Mai could find herself playing the hypocrite sooner rather than later. If Cellinia's greed would be the scariest side of herself that she'd choose to share with Mai, then it just might be the kind of fright that this girl could get accustomed to. She'd suffer the adrenaline rush and forfeit herself to the jaws of a wolf, tremble beneath her keen eyes if that's what was demanded of of her. It could be a rather fun game of give and take, this flirtation with the roles expected of them by the outside world.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-09 08:15 pm (UTC)about loves lost, people taken from them, the ever burning desire to find again that peace so easily ripped from their hands. they lost what could have been, a future theyâd never have and a present that was ever-changing. what it gives them now is something more curious than what once had been their respective lives and worlds. they chase echos, be it of themselves or something deeper. love is something dangerous in how it might end and rebirth them into what felt like dying and living. theyâd live when together, theyâd die when apart. being reflections didnât matter, not a perfect reflection yet enough of one that it strings them together more in this promised gift of everything the wolf has to offer this poor little red riding hood. unusual, bizarre, and even dangerous in the ways that it would tear them apart. cellinia can recognize that, that there is a danger in it and how there was no telling if she would ever be the same again after their meeting.
pleasant distractions are better than the thoughts that might swirl about, how in deep can they be? how far would they go as they lose themselves to love? wonât they be lost again without it or are they telling themselves that this only is another thing that wasnât true when their hearts could cry so loudly, so desperate and needing this salve offered by their lover. her ears again relax without being as disappointed that mai had stopped in favor of tending to the black-red strands of her hair. the patience of this predator isnât a surprise. what is the surprise is that lovely faint pink flush to her cheeks, offering another sweet gift. more spoils for her, sights that none can say theyâve had from her. not even those friends of hers in the pictures has seen the way cellinia could be flustered when she likes someone to that point.
is it truly a relief? perhaps. she doesnât have it in her to scare away this girl, not now. maybe even never with it being intentional. soft mockery and the way maiâs eyes look at her says enough that cellinia neednât say another word. that she likes it. sheâd remain safe with this wolf, this wolf who betrays herself in that pretty pink shade of blush to her sharp features, with her goddess kissing along the color to them. like something chaste in her mannerisms while they both know that any further steps beyond that would result in this bath becoming a different thing entirely. they wouldnât behave any longer while falling deeper into a sweet trap that threatens them more than the unending depths of rain threatening them in the desert it blesses with eternal water.
what mai is getting is beyond the fear that cellinia could have driven into anyone else knowing sheâs a wolf. predators are supposed to be frightening, but she obtained instead a more curious one that is so gentle for her while threatening others with her actual bite. it would be funny were cellinia capable of being frightening towards others while maintaining something of a normal and mundane life with her lover. with her friends, even.)
True....
(fortunately, she loosens up her hold on mai for now while giving a simple answer to her, so that she could grab the shower head while caressing her ears again. those ears which are twitching into her fingers, melting at attention granted to them by proxy of them being adorable. adorable on a girl that shouldnât even be perceived as cute herself for how vicious cellinia might be underneath the surface whenever it comes to the things sheâd do without being fazed. who knows, their luck is looking better than it had at the start. the odds themselves are still stacked against the girls, but perhaps theyâll get somewhere. somewhere beyond the cage for one and the loneliness of another.
she shivers at the way her lover murmurs to her, her ears really are sensitive things in how they stand tall. betraying her again in showing how much she liked hearing her voice speaking to her so lowly, a reminder is given to the part of herself that could be coaxed into misbehaving that they did need to try finishing this bath. try. if it turns to a failure, they might very well make it into more of a habit. but is that so bad? they didnât have to focus on the world or all the things it might do to them again. all that they needed is in front of this pair of jaded girls who flirt too much with what would surely be them falling at their deepest.
a glorious fall, drowning them forever and binding them in a union that would surely be something lethal for what they once were. cellinia does have a job to do, but she couldnât help the thought of eventually taking mai along during working hours. seeing and testing how well they both could avoid getting hot and heavy on the job while in her car, or perhaps in any other places they shouldnât be fooling around in. her greed really is growing in how she might display it when given the chance at the thoughts now coming in against the more serious ones of earlier.)
I could cover your eyes before I do anything frightening, or treat you sweetly after while apologizing.
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Date: 2025-05-11 01:06 am (UTC)This is what girls like them are reduced to now, isn't it? Taking part in agreeable distractions from the missteps and failures that have sapped the light from their eyes, in the hopes that maybe this time, this time, they might retrieve true relief in the depths of another. It's a gamble to reach in blindly, no matter how accustomed one might be to the darkness. Yet the two of them seem to be fine like this, grasping about albeit nervously, wondering if their wandering hands might set off some unseen trap, tearing them a wound that would join the others in how deep and unhealing it would become.
It's amusing, that these lovers can be cautious in their own subconscious ways, while their bodies charge ahead rather recklessly.
Mai catches the way Cellinia's ears perk up when she speaks against them, and her body feels the slight tremor going through the wolf at that same act. It doesn't take much, does it? Oh, how Mai adores the way Cellinia trembles beneath her, whether it's innocently like this, or at the mercy of her appetite atop sheets they'll mess up again. It makes her swell with the pride of having the power without needing to do anything more than this. But, it only makes her think almost too immediately of all the ways that she can get even more delightful reactions if she dares to go just a bit further.]
Oh, really? You'd cover my eyes before doing bad things, hm?
[Honestly, what are you to do with this mischief-maker, Cellinia? She's twisted your words for her amusement, and leaves no room for guessing where her thoughts sharply veer with the way her laughter fills the room again. Is it her fault? Cellinia makes it too easy for her, and if she can enjoy that blush for just a moment longer, she won't pass up the chance. Taking Cellinia's chin and tilting her head back, Mai waits for the water to become warn enough to wash away her handiwork from the dark fur and hair. Her fingers move to shield her wolf's pretty, blushing face from the stream of water and shampoo that otherwise descends into the bath. A gentle touch, an admiring gaze, despite the amorous intent of her words.]
You're really into that kind of thing, aren't you?
[She purrs, an obvious allusion to Cellinia's penchant for restraints. The idea of it might be a little different, here, but Mai will prod her with a teasing reminder anyway. Whether or not her lover means something far more innocent than what her own thoughts conjure up, doesn't matter all that much to Mai. She's inspired, goaded even, to let her know that she's thinking of it, this suggestive little memory she intends on treasuring, especially when she finds herself lonely once more.]
But I bet you're prettiest when you're begging for forgiveness. I'd find ways for you to make it up to me, I think.
[Already, thoughts of all of the ways that Cellinia might earn that forgiveness tumble about in her head as she runs warm water over the last patches of foam. Perhaps their thoughts are not so far off from one another's, when it comes down to it. Cellinia has given her wicked mind a taste of just how sweetly she can treat herâ and that was without a mistake to correct. Forget that this entire encounter began as a mistake on both of their parts, one that they're no doubt satisfied to have made, in the end. Neither shall complain too much if they add to the pile, should Cellinia choose to have Mai tag along with her on days when the job is plenty demanding. Goodness knows that they have a poor track record keeping their hands to themselves while in her car⊠]
Wellâ I probably wouldn't have you apologizing for too long. Lucky you, right?
[But a nice and proper girl certainly wouldn't be insinuating the kinds of things that Mai currently is. A better use of her lover's mouth, undoubtedly, offered under the benevolent guise of sparing Cellinia the shame of profusely apologizing for frightening herâ with words, anyway. She shouldn't object, right? Because Mai really does hate scary things, and what better way to remedy body-freezing terrors than something decidedly more hot and pleasing?
At last, the shampoo is thoroughly rinsed through. Cellinia's hair is without a single speck of lather, though scented pleasantly with lavender, calming, and irresistibly so. Enough that, once Mai replaces the shower head and wraps her arms tightly around her lover's shoulders, she breathes her in deeply. Cellinia is such a pretty contradiction, she silently acknowledges, at once dangerous and safe. Has Mai crept her way into a wolf's blind spot, somehow? Or is she in the beast's plain sight, kept in her mercy while the rest of the world may shudder in fear? Maybe it doesn't really matter, because Mai will end up pushing the boundaries regardless.
Such as now, when she ghosts her lips over one of Cellinia's ears. Nice and clean. Mai kisses along the edge first, the sensation of the fur there wet and soft against her mouth. There's a sliver of impatience in the way she takes her fill like this, as if she's been waiting for such an indulgence since they first climbed into the bath together. If it twitches against her kiss, she won't mind in the slightest, and might find herself smiling mirthfully before teasing her tongue up along starting at the base. Is this not her own manner of a sweet treatment, or something unquestionably sinful? Cellinia ought not to have put such strange ideas into Mai's head with her vague insinuationsâ doesn't she know that this girl has quite the imagination when it suits her? Well, she can certainly ponder on it as Mai takes the tip of Cellinia's sharp ear and nips at it with just her lips, a slight pressure not meant to elicit any pain if she could help it.
Yes, you ought to feel very lucky now, Cellinia. That to Mai, behaving comes second to getting her way when she makes the decision.]
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Date: 2025-05-12 01:43 am (UTC)but arenât they here, too, from said gamble? they hold no childlike light in their eyes, only eyes that have seen more than their share of what the world has done to them. to girls like them who once found themselves able to express their innocence without it feeling more as if it were a death sentence to maintain that wounded part of themselves. she often finds herself waiting for said trap to catch her hand, to grab it and tear into it another wound that would fester long after it heals itself closed. anxiety would always be something that remains, perhaps even their nervous and overly cautious attempts at testing the waters in what both girls denies as being love between them. a budding romance that wonât for their sake turn into something tragic like within the plays that cellinia had often found herself dragged into seeing with her only other childhood friend. nothing could heal those festering wounds.
those wounds which festered nevertheless underneath the surface regardless of seeming closed to those prying eyes around in their lives, that stayed long after they should have healed.
their bodies know the truth that they blind themselves to willingly. telling their hearts that this canât be that sweet innocence theyâve had slipped through their bloodied fingers, both figurative and literal. they resist admitting early what most would know by looking at them, that love bloomed in the most unusual and horrific ways in darkly whispered vows and vows of devotion. not that theyâd understand, they would find themselves appalled at the very notion that a beast is offering herself to this girl. oh, theyâd all call for her head. that desire to drive out a monster among humans while telling her lover that sheâd be gone by the morrow. that none of them would let this wolf hurt her again when the reality had been cellinia has loved her more than any human could without knowing. without realizing, no less, that her heart found its home in her.
whatever shall they do when the wolf is found whisking away this little red riding hood one night? taking her far away, away from those that harmed her and carved into her body those unseen wounds that both wolf and goddess had recognized as being like their own without knowing. itâs innocent in how cellinia had shivered, from sensitive ears, and how she likes the sound of her loverâs voice. atop that altar of theirs, the sheets theyâd ruin again and again, she finds it impossible to not imagine what mai means in her response. the mischief and how it drips from her words, the sinful nature of what her lover would be after from her. her ears betraying her would become a norm between them, were anyone else to dare attempt something so bold theyâd surely find themselves on the ground and injured. that is if they werenât someone she knew, although even her friends were not exempt from cellinia judging them if they attempted this.
she has something on the tip of her tongue, a remark of her own that gets cut off when mai takes hold of her chin and tips her head back enough. honestly, itâs enough to cut off any thoughts she may have had. their eyes lock, the wolfâs own searing in the way they look at her goddess from those promises. at being called out, even, for her own enjoyment of being tied down. restrained beneath her like an obedient beast as this pretty little goddess ate her fill of her body, drinking in deep of her with each flick of her tongue at her very arousal.
that purr of her voice is doing far too much to her and her patience, mai could sound so lovely without trying. she didnât need to see her face to keep those beautiful eyes of hers on maiâs own when she feels the admiration in her gaze. the mix of it and her amorous intent while theyâre having this back and forth. another mistake, or maybe not. theyâve long since stopped counting those, and the sins they are forming now would only bloom in their thorn covered gardens that both goddess and wolf are growing together. she has no shame in it, not in how hearing the rather obvious part of where maiâs mind is taking this.
let her treasure it, she deserves to have that memory keep her warm in their nights apart when the loneliness eats at them. cellinia wouldnât let herself stop thinking about her as promised, that request to ruin and be ruined was only the beginning. itâs only fair she allowed this girl to haunt her forever. to never stop haunting her in her waking moments and when she falls asleep. within her imagination, where she might dream of the things sheâd do to her in sinful reverence and chastely given love.
which is why her eyes are locked back on to her loverâs own hazel ones the moment theyâre uncovered, as if that answers the question enough. she is into that. sheâd cover her loverâs eyes and shield her from the scary things that the wolf would do to others that overstepped their boundaries. that pushed their luck too far while also not understanding what theyâre getting themselves into. yes, she can imagine it too well. the apologies whispered softly and cellinia bloody, reluctant to touch her lover yet doing it anyway from that urge to do so whether she were covered in tainted blood or not. the tainted blood of those foolish monsters, of truly, those bastards that would think they can separate them.)
Weâll have to see some time, wonât we? What you might come up with, the ways that I can apologize in more than only words....
(she murmurs the words, almost like she pictures it herself. the idea being painted out for her, the white-hot desperation of the moment would work plenty of wonders in that. how cellinia would treat her gently, mouth to her skin and lips. fingers working their way along her body, memorizing every tremble and twitch like itâs the first time. marking her beautiful body with teeth and kisses in apologies that could only be given in that desperate sense of longing in not wanting to let go. not of her, her lover and that part of herself sheâd lose forever if mai were to be gone completely from her life. it would be a better use of that mouth of hers, that wolfish tongue and the pretty way she could speak to her words both foreign and not.
who can say where mai is, but one thing is for certain, she is safe. safe in the arms of someone dangerous while cellinia loosens her hold again for her, safe in a contradiction who would sooner keep hidden from her gaze the more frightening sides of herself. she wouldnât object to apologizing with her mouth in whatever other ways her goddess can imagine, and how much the wolf would die without her the longer this goes on between them. cellinia did consider asking if mai wanted her back washed, before anything else that is, whenever she feels her arms around her shoulders.
how it almost felt like mai had been struggling in not acting on this urge in how tight it is, she can almost tell her lover is melting at this soothing scent. cellinia personally uses lavender to help herself relax more. be it at night to sleep or in general with wanting to calm down after a particularly intense night of sleep avoiding her, one of the wolfâs hands moves to rest along maiâs upper back. to trail her fingers along her spine while she takes in as much of celliniaâs scent as she desires. the rain and lavender, the hints of nicotine mixed into it. that buried down mote of ashes, too. what a unique scent, for someone as wild as this girl is.
enough to frighten most, but not her goddess who kisses one of her sharp and fluffy ears. the ear itself stands up straight immediately from surprise, cellinia herself? she hadnât expected that in how she sharply exhales, it seems both of them were having vivid imaginations together this time. unintentional on celliniaâs part at the start, but itâs too easy to get her to chase after her goddess and pretty little red riding hood. shameless in how they blur this line of needing to behave, but neither seems to care as their words drift further away from what had been something chaste and intimate in itself from how they were bathing together. the sigh she lets out is slightly louder once maiâs tongue works its way along the ear sheâs giving her attention to. is it from how sensitive they are? maybe, but it also isnât very surprising mai could a sound from her. for it to not be as soft from her nips of teeth along somewhere so sensitive for wolves.
oh, she canât help that tremble, that shiver from it beneath her. sheâs at her mercy in this tub, trapped beneath her while they both veer into misbehaving. how cute, they lasted this long for her ears to be groomed.)
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