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the arms of the ocean are carrying me
the arms of the ocean delivered me
[ text | voice | omen | action ]
the arms of the ocean are carrying me
the arms of the ocean delivered me
[ text | voice | omen | action ]
[ It's a pleasant game of sorts, boldness towards the other flitting to shyness in response: how he tells her thought about her offer before, about her doing that to him — and her hand moves down his chest, the start of a promise to make good on that offer. She makes him shy, then he does the same in return, emboldening the other to try a little more. A kind of comfortable, thrilling banter — encouraging one another with it, coaxing one another into that teasing that is often still so very new for them in ways. So much of it is new, but it comes rooted in that trust and affection for one another. It never feels scary, anxious.
It takes little effort to coax her closer; content to melt against him, close enough to count the eyelashes of his heavy-lidded look. She carefully wets her lips, the edges still curved into the coy smile as she waits for an answer. Both, he says, and her eyebrows raise a little in curiosity; gazing intently as her fingers curl a little tighter in his shirt between them — to prompt him for a little more than that. And well, he... very much does that. Slow, easy teases. For a long moment, she can't bring herself to speak. Her teeth inadvertently biting down on her lower lip, even no matter what he'd say — it still surprises her. A gentle kind of surprised, but quietly delighted at the same time.
He can very likely feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. It's no secret that she enjoys these little bursts of boldness from him, she's told him as much. And he continues, there's more, the gentlest of squeezes that have her eyes blinking wide for a moment. ... Did he just... squeeze her backside? Oh, she's not mad about that, even if it takes her a few seconds to recover. She almost giggles a little but his final words really strike her and there's an understanding of what he means — the tiniest of whines in her throat.
... She considers herself enlightened. ]
I've thought about it, too. [ Finally, she's able to bring herself to form words. Breathless, hushed in reply. It's like she's already seeing stars, little prickles behind her eyes. A pleasant kind of dizziness that makes the edges of her blur, and it's him. Just him, at her centre. Her breaths are quick and shallow, hips squirming a little without quite meaning to.
Her mouth brushes against his, slow and careful, as if a reward for revealing his thoughts to her. But also it's getting very difficult to put off kissing him for much longer. They have plenty of time, though. A night without Paimon's presence lingering close by feels like all the time in the world, a rare and precious instance. She can take her time, they can take their time — let themselves enjoy it. ]
... I like to think about you touching me, when I'm alone. [ The softest of sordid confessions. He wanted her to know that he thinks about her, she wants him to know that she thinks about him. Someone desirable. She's not one to discuss her personal habits so openly, but they do happen when she finds the time — something often a rare occurrence given their lives here. Of course she thinks about him, how it might feel like, how he might feel like; how she softly whimpers his name like prayers — much like does when he's with her in those intimate moments together. ] What I imagine it'll be like, if it were your hands instead.
[ But she supposes one of them won't need to rely solely on imagination much longer, a there's the tiniest flicker of mischief in her eyes with that. Her heart flutters, nerves and giddiness all rolled into one. She pulls back, makes space between them, but not too far away. Her hand resumes its journey downwards, brushing against the fabric of his suit pants — careful but purposeful. The gentlest pressure of her fingers, feeling for him, slow movements back and forth. ]
I can go slow. [ Her voice is low, gentle. She gauges his initial reaction at that first touch. ] If you ever want me to stop, tell me. There's no pressure.
It takes little effort to coax her closer; content to melt against him, close enough to count the eyelashes of his heavy-lidded look. She carefully wets her lips, the edges still curved into the coy smile as she waits for an answer. Both, he says, and her eyebrows raise a little in curiosity; gazing intently as her fingers curl a little tighter in his shirt between them — to prompt him for a little more than that. And well, he... very much does that. Slow, easy teases. For a long moment, she can't bring herself to speak. Her teeth inadvertently biting down on her lower lip, even no matter what he'd say — it still surprises her. A gentle kind of surprised, but quietly delighted at the same time.
He can very likely feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. It's no secret that she enjoys these little bursts of boldness from him, she's told him as much. And he continues, there's more, the gentlest of squeezes that have her eyes blinking wide for a moment. ... Did he just... squeeze her backside? Oh, she's not mad about that, even if it takes her a few seconds to recover. She almost giggles a little but his final words really strike her and there's an understanding of what he means — the tiniest of whines in her throat.
... She considers herself enlightened. ]
I've thought about it, too. [ Finally, she's able to bring herself to form words. Breathless, hushed in reply. It's like she's already seeing stars, little prickles behind her eyes. A pleasant kind of dizziness that makes the edges of her blur, and it's him. Just him, at her centre. Her breaths are quick and shallow, hips squirming a little without quite meaning to.
Her mouth brushes against his, slow and careful, as if a reward for revealing his thoughts to her. But also it's getting very difficult to put off kissing him for much longer. They have plenty of time, though. A night without Paimon's presence lingering close by feels like all the time in the world, a rare and precious instance. She can take her time, they can take their time — let themselves enjoy it. ]
... I like to think about you touching me, when I'm alone. [ The softest of sordid confessions. He wanted her to know that he thinks about her, she wants him to know that she thinks about him. Someone desirable. She's not one to discuss her personal habits so openly, but they do happen when she finds the time — something often a rare occurrence given their lives here. Of course she thinks about him, how it might feel like, how he might feel like; how she softly whimpers his name like prayers — much like does when he's with her in those intimate moments together. ] What I imagine it'll be like, if it were your hands instead.
[ But she supposes one of them won't need to rely solely on imagination much longer, a there's the tiniest flicker of mischief in her eyes with that. Her heart flutters, nerves and giddiness all rolled into one. She pulls back, makes space between them, but not too far away. Her hand resumes its journey downwards, brushing against the fabric of his suit pants — careful but purposeful. The gentlest pressure of her fingers, feeling for him, slow movements back and forth. ]
I can go slow. [ Her voice is low, gentle. She gauges his initial reaction at that first touch. ] If you ever want me to stop, tell me. There's no pressure.
No, that's fair. I know the two times I died they just kind of... came out of nowhere. It was nice she asked for your opinion, though. It was your life, after all. But yes, life is often very much not fair.
[ There's a brief pause before she offers: ]
The answer is 'no', by the way.
[ There's a brief pause before she offers: ]
The answer is 'no', by the way.
( Peter watches the way his words — and actions — affect her, the familiar thrill of enjoying each other's reactions, of a mutual newness to all of this sort of thing, both of them learning it with each other. He loves seeing every flush of soft pink across Luna's cheeks, every flutter of eyes opening wider: loves seeing her look surprised and delighted and loved. That's always what's at the heart of it, his love for her — there in his eyes, so warm for Luna.
He catches that soft sound, the ghost of a whine, and Peter exhales softly, letting himself have every piece of this moment with her, letting himself feel the heat to his pulse, the pleasant staticy hum. It certainly isn't the first time he's felt that way, there's been so, so many times, time after time — but the prospect of what they're talking about, what's to come.... this is so new, too. His head's swimming and Luna's words catch hold, warm and thick and loving and— oh. It's Peter's turn to look gently surprised, to give a sound that borders a whine, something that comes from deep in his throat and flutters up from within it. She thinks about him, touching her, when she's alone—
His ears flush again, but despite his shyness, he's not shying away from any of it, biting down gently on his lip for a moment, not hiding the smile that creeps up. She likes to think about him— He's absolutely melting all over again beneath her, pleasantly stunned by it all, and feeling his body react to the words alone seconds before her hands slowly start to move downwards again. Peter gives another soft sound, though it's— a little louder this time, and another shudder ripples through him. Not the frightening kind he knows so well and can never be used to, no hints to quiet ghosts growing louder. His body is only his for this moment, and every shudder and ripple belongs to her, and everything feels so good that he almost can't believe it's real.
Then he's feeling the light pressure of fingertips against him, and Peter gasps softly with a wave of dizzy heat, can't stop the slight movement of his hips in response. Oh — it's so soft but so much, even that gentle pressure of her fingertips finding him. He hears her words through the thuds of his own heart in his eardrums, slowly moves his hands back around from her to rest at her waist for now, tightening, a gentle firmness. The softest nod accompanies it, and a breathless sigh; he feels himself tightening a little, body so sensitive to her, to being touched at all in ways it hasn't been. )
You too. ( Peter whispers, eyes rolling up to find hers, holding onto those familiar rainy-day greys. ) If you want to— stop. If anything's not comfortable anymore. It's okay.
( He's just as aware how new this is for her, and how exploratory — to be touching someone in intimate ways, to learn how things are, feel, and there's no pressure at any point of this to keep going. )
But it feels good. You can.... touch harder, if you want. It feels good.
( Even through the material of his clothing, a fact that's probably obvious by the reaction he's having to her, the way his clothing is becoming a little tighter, fuller. He's not... completely affected, just yet — but definitely affected, his body certainly extremely aware of her. There's no rush, though, everything can be slow and warm and comfortable. He gives another soft sound, swallows gently. Smiles, up at her. )
He catches that soft sound, the ghost of a whine, and Peter exhales softly, letting himself have every piece of this moment with her, letting himself feel the heat to his pulse, the pleasant staticy hum. It certainly isn't the first time he's felt that way, there's been so, so many times, time after time — but the prospect of what they're talking about, what's to come.... this is so new, too. His head's swimming and Luna's words catch hold, warm and thick and loving and— oh. It's Peter's turn to look gently surprised, to give a sound that borders a whine, something that comes from deep in his throat and flutters up from within it. She thinks about him, touching her, when she's alone—
His ears flush again, but despite his shyness, he's not shying away from any of it, biting down gently on his lip for a moment, not hiding the smile that creeps up. She likes to think about him— He's absolutely melting all over again beneath her, pleasantly stunned by it all, and feeling his body react to the words alone seconds before her hands slowly start to move downwards again. Peter gives another soft sound, though it's— a little louder this time, and another shudder ripples through him. Not the frightening kind he knows so well and can never be used to, no hints to quiet ghosts growing louder. His body is only his for this moment, and every shudder and ripple belongs to her, and everything feels so good that he almost can't believe it's real.
Then he's feeling the light pressure of fingertips against him, and Peter gasps softly with a wave of dizzy heat, can't stop the slight movement of his hips in response. Oh — it's so soft but so much, even that gentle pressure of her fingertips finding him. He hears her words through the thuds of his own heart in his eardrums, slowly moves his hands back around from her to rest at her waist for now, tightening, a gentle firmness. The softest nod accompanies it, and a breathless sigh; he feels himself tightening a little, body so sensitive to her, to being touched at all in ways it hasn't been. )
You too. ( Peter whispers, eyes rolling up to find hers, holding onto those familiar rainy-day greys. ) If you want to— stop. If anything's not comfortable anymore. It's okay.
( He's just as aware how new this is for her, and how exploratory — to be touching someone in intimate ways, to learn how things are, feel, and there's no pressure at any point of this to keep going. )
But it feels good. You can.... touch harder, if you want. It feels good.
( Even through the material of his clothing, a fact that's probably obvious by the reaction he's having to her, the way his clothing is becoming a little tighter, fuller. He's not... completely affected, just yet — but definitely affected, his body certainly extremely aware of her. There's no rush, though, everything can be slow and warm and comfortable. He gives another soft sound, swallows gently. Smiles, up at her. )
[ Luna watches him, and she can't help but let her lips purse in reply, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth. It's kind of fascinating to her, in a way. Seeing those responses in him to what she does, what she says. It's... exciting. That runs in the undercurrent of it all, the giddy excitement of something new. Knowing she's having this effect on him, and in turn how he affects her. And it's exciting because of the freedom they have within this moment, so rare and precious.
His hips shift, and he sighs. It's easy to get swept up in it all. But his words are sobering for a moment: If you want to— stop. If anything's not comfortable anymore. It's okay. This might be about him, but it's... about her too, isn't it? It's about them. And it's there— either of them can stop if they want, if it's too much. Luna's eyes soften at that, her lips unpursing. She looks at him for a long moment with that softened gaze, warmth and affection and love.
She leans in to press her mouth to his, a small, chaste kiss. Her voice soft for a moment when she pulls away. ]
I know. And... good, that's what I want. What I'm aiming for. [ The gentlest of chuckles, a little breathy. But she means that, joking aside. She's glad it feels good for him, already. Luna wants this to feel good for him, hopes that they can start what they finish. That it won't be too much. She wants that.
And she's aware of how his body reacts to her touch, a slow rousing that neither of them are in any hurry to speed along. Time, for once, is their friend. They can take their time with it, enjoy it. Still, she presses on at his suggestion — the gentlest curve of her fingers against him as she applies a little more pressure. Slow, deliberate movements but still quite leisurely in pace. Her eyes flutter slightly, a thought coming to her mind, remembering something: the shape of it a little different but certainly related to this moment. This... technically isn't the first time she's done this. She can't help but chuckle a little at the realisation. ]
... I have to admit something— [ She looks sheepish, almost apologetic. But there's a good humour to her tone. ] I realise I put you at a bit disadvantage, I do have quite a good idea of what I'm doing. [ There's a brief moment or two as she tries how best to explain what she means. ] I... admittedly got a little curious, back when I changed into a boy last year.
[ There's a little inhale, her shoulders shrugging easily. ]
But... I, well... had this in mind, you in mind. I wanted to make sure this felt good for you, for whenever we got to this. I suppose it was a kind of... research.
[ Trust the Ravenclaw to look into the techniques of masturbation. This might not be some other essay she has to write, or some assignment or exam she has to take — but there's something of it there, in spirit. Although in truth, whatever Luna found was enjoyable and what Peter might find enjoyable are two very different things. Learning how to go about things is one thing, actually putting it into practice is another. Not that it was so terrible, with this. They can work things out together, and she very much likes the idea of that.
That being said, she does resume her concentration on the task at hand. Unhurried, careful and attentive. She's enjoying this, enjoying this moment with him — trying very hard not to let herself get too carried away. The emotions within her intense, and the excitement is almost intoxicating. Her hand moving against him with purposeful pressure, fabric tightening against her palm. Her kisses are slow, lingering things. She doesn't deepen them too much, wanting to keep an eye on his reactions as time goes on.
She's checking in with him here and there with silent looks, raised eyebrows of questioning if he's still alright in those long, lazy moments that follow. Each time resuming with her kisses once more; it's comfortable. And then, when she next pulls away, her hand shifts to his waistband and then no further. Her fingertips rest against fabric. She swallows thickly, a little breathless, her heart fluttering as she looks at him — waiting for permission. ]
Do you want me to keep going?
His hips shift, and he sighs. It's easy to get swept up in it all. But his words are sobering for a moment: If you want to— stop. If anything's not comfortable anymore. It's okay. This might be about him, but it's... about her too, isn't it? It's about them. And it's there— either of them can stop if they want, if it's too much. Luna's eyes soften at that, her lips unpursing. She looks at him for a long moment with that softened gaze, warmth and affection and love.
She leans in to press her mouth to his, a small, chaste kiss. Her voice soft for a moment when she pulls away. ]
I know. And... good, that's what I want. What I'm aiming for. [ The gentlest of chuckles, a little breathy. But she means that, joking aside. She's glad it feels good for him, already. Luna wants this to feel good for him, hopes that they can start what they finish. That it won't be too much. She wants that.
And she's aware of how his body reacts to her touch, a slow rousing that neither of them are in any hurry to speed along. Time, for once, is their friend. They can take their time with it, enjoy it. Still, she presses on at his suggestion — the gentlest curve of her fingers against him as she applies a little more pressure. Slow, deliberate movements but still quite leisurely in pace. Her eyes flutter slightly, a thought coming to her mind, remembering something: the shape of it a little different but certainly related to this moment. This... technically isn't the first time she's done this. She can't help but chuckle a little at the realisation. ]
... I have to admit something— [ She looks sheepish, almost apologetic. But there's a good humour to her tone. ] I realise I put you at a bit disadvantage, I do have quite a good idea of what I'm doing. [ There's a brief moment or two as she tries how best to explain what she means. ] I... admittedly got a little curious, back when I changed into a boy last year.
[ There's a little inhale, her shoulders shrugging easily. ]
But... I, well... had this in mind, you in mind. I wanted to make sure this felt good for you, for whenever we got to this. I suppose it was a kind of... research.
[ Trust the Ravenclaw to look into the techniques of masturbation. This might not be some other essay she has to write, or some assignment or exam she has to take — but there's something of it there, in spirit. Although in truth, whatever Luna found was enjoyable and what Peter might find enjoyable are two very different things. Learning how to go about things is one thing, actually putting it into practice is another. Not that it was so terrible, with this. They can work things out together, and she very much likes the idea of that.
That being said, she does resume her concentration on the task at hand. Unhurried, careful and attentive. She's enjoying this, enjoying this moment with him — trying very hard not to let herself get too carried away. The emotions within her intense, and the excitement is almost intoxicating. Her hand moving against him with purposeful pressure, fabric tightening against her palm. Her kisses are slow, lingering things. She doesn't deepen them too much, wanting to keep an eye on his reactions as time goes on.
She's checking in with him here and there with silent looks, raised eyebrows of questioning if he's still alright in those long, lazy moments that follow. Each time resuming with her kisses once more; it's comfortable. And then, when she next pulls away, her hand shifts to his waistband and then no further. Her fingertips rest against fabric. She swallows thickly, a little breathless, her heart fluttering as she looks at him — waiting for permission. ]
Do you want me to keep going?
( Peter's mouth parts against hers for that soft kiss, heart beating harder in response, a mixture of wanting more and yet being so wonderfully satisfied with the slow, intentional pace of it all. Sometimes it's easy to feel like his time is... limited (in all ways, really), but even when it comes to things like his intimacy with Luna.... it can feel like there's a timer on it, if he lets himself think that way. It's not that he ever rushes through it, just that he knows he has to share himself with the other thing, inevitably. Paimon does give them plenty of alone time, but it's just.... nice, different, to have been secured an entire day. There's a safety to it; Peter can relax.
And so despite the rising tension in him, the quickening pulse of his heart, there's something so comfortable to everything. Luna's fingers press against him a little more firmly and his eyes are fluttering again, almost closing for a moment as a soft, shuddery exhale escapes him breathlessly. He's listening, though, fingers slowly pressing inwards against her sides, something progressively more needy, legs shifting a little wider as his body opens itself more for her.
Curious, when she was a boy last year..... Peter's hazy eyes open back up at that, stunned for a brief moment, and then a tickled laugh bubbling out of him, grinning up at her. )
Oh my god.... You did research on...... Of course you did.
( Through his amusement, there's fondness, warm and practically dripping from him like honey, and it makes him love her so much — as bizarre as all of it is in this place, Luna becoming a boy, through it all, that familiarity..... Of course Luna would take that as a learning opportunity; it's so completely her. And that she had him in mind...
His fond, warm laughter quiets, and he's smiling up at the girl for a few long moments still, before it slowly sobers again, and he's happily indulging in those kisses with her, slow and open-mouthed and lingering, and he feels himself slowly pushing back a little against those gestures of her hand — cautious, experimental at first, and part of him doesn't want to let himself get... too worked up, too fast. It tends to happen when he's with her, as neglected as Peter's body is.... but here and now, he gauges himself, gently moving his hips very slowly to push the soft swell of himself against her hand, never too hard or fast, giving ragged little breaths against the corner of her mouth.
When she pulls away, Peter gives another soft sound, taking a moment to catch the breath he hasn't quite lost, but has been demanding more from him, looking dreamlike up at Luna. His heart's a fluttering thing, dizzied and buzzing. His eyes slowly move down to her hand, hungry and shy and knowing what he wants — gaze lifting to return to her face. )
I want you to. Show me what you learned~.
( He gives a little grin again, amused and delighted and playful all over again for a brief moment — that familiar, comfortable amusement between them — but then
it's quietly fading into something more serious again, and his mouth parts as his head tilts back more against the plush back of the sofa, exposing more of his slender throat, body revealing itself to her, inviting. )
Please touch me.
And so despite the rising tension in him, the quickening pulse of his heart, there's something so comfortable to everything. Luna's fingers press against him a little more firmly and his eyes are fluttering again, almost closing for a moment as a soft, shuddery exhale escapes him breathlessly. He's listening, though, fingers slowly pressing inwards against her sides, something progressively more needy, legs shifting a little wider as his body opens itself more for her.
Curious, when she was a boy last year..... Peter's hazy eyes open back up at that, stunned for a brief moment, and then a tickled laugh bubbling out of him, grinning up at her. )
Oh my god.... You did research on...... Of course you did.
( Through his amusement, there's fondness, warm and practically dripping from him like honey, and it makes him love her so much — as bizarre as all of it is in this place, Luna becoming a boy, through it all, that familiarity..... Of course Luna would take that as a learning opportunity; it's so completely her. And that she had him in mind...
His fond, warm laughter quiets, and he's smiling up at the girl for a few long moments still, before it slowly sobers again, and he's happily indulging in those kisses with her, slow and open-mouthed and lingering, and he feels himself slowly pushing back a little against those gestures of her hand — cautious, experimental at first, and part of him doesn't want to let himself get... too worked up, too fast. It tends to happen when he's with her, as neglected as Peter's body is.... but here and now, he gauges himself, gently moving his hips very slowly to push the soft swell of himself against her hand, never too hard or fast, giving ragged little breaths against the corner of her mouth.
When she pulls away, Peter gives another soft sound, taking a moment to catch the breath he hasn't quite lost, but has been demanding more from him, looking dreamlike up at Luna. His heart's a fluttering thing, dizzied and buzzing. His eyes slowly move down to her hand, hungry and shy and knowing what he wants — gaze lifting to return to her face. )
I want you to. Show me what you learned~.
( He gives a little grin again, amused and delighted and playful all over again for a brief moment — that familiar, comfortable amusement between them — but then
it's quietly fading into something more serious again, and his mouth parts as his head tilts back more against the plush back of the sofa, exposing more of his slender throat, body revealing itself to her, inviting. )
Please touch me.
I did—! [ Luna's face brightens immensely at that, an amused giggle erupting from her in reply. It does sound quite silly, in a way. Doesn't it? But... yes, of course she did something like that. There's something more playful in her expression, amused by his reaction. Even as surprising at it is, he's still unsurprised by her, warmed by it. It softens something in her, just as it always does — appreciated, loved by him, the easiness of everything between them. The laughter breaks the seriousness of all of this too, it feels nice to laugh about things like this. Even if this is such a huge step for them, they can still have fun with it, too.
And he wants her to keep going, wants her to touch him. Show him what she's learned. Flits between playfulness and seriousness, her own heart quickening at that — her eyes flicking between between his gaze and his throat, wanting to kiss him there. She takes a breath, shuddery on the exhale — trying to steady the little twist of nerves that entwines itself with the excitement. Another smile toying with the corners of her mouth as she briefly presses her lips to his, then shifts her head to start peppering more kisses to his cheek, his jaw; trailing down his neck, his throat — gentle, fluttering little things, unhurried and careful.
She takes her time with it. Hands trembling slightly, working to undo his suit pants, one slipping between layers of fabric — fingers finding, then brushing against him. She pauses from her kisses, uttering another shaky breath against his throat that softly voices into a sigh — explorative touches, testing. He feels so warm against her fingertips. And even if Luna has an idea of what she's doing, this is still... so new to her. She's never touched him before like this, and not even her 'research' can prepare her for that. Her heart skips feverishly, loud in her ears.
Then finally, her fingers close around him and she gently tugs him free. She pulls away a little, then. Not quite able to help herself, head tilting to look down between them, at him. She wants to see him, too. There's another soft breath from her, as if uttering some sort of silent 'Oh, that's what it looks like.' Her eyes widen slightly, darkening with a quiet intensity — something hungry, wanting, excited. Biting down on her lower lip, there's a little hum, curiosity and appreciation, pleased.
... It's perhaps a blessing that only words can pass between their mental link, she's... taking a little moment to herself to... picture a few things. She's quiet for a short while, just smiling away to herself with her cheeks darkening even more. ]
Although even with research— [ It startles out of her softly, remembering herself. There's another hum and she gives him a slow, gentle squeeze. ] I don't know... exactly what you like. Everyone's a bit different, aren't they?
[ Still more learning to be done, and the thought makes her laugh a little. A tiny chuckle in her throat as she leans in once more, moves back to pressing more kisses against his throat. They're slower, lingering ones now — her lips brushing against his skin, never pulling back too far from him. Her hand finally moves, mirroring her kisses: slow and lazy movements. She knows enough to start slow, it's not something that needs rushed. Her kisses move upwards, close to his ear, her voice hushes when she next speaks. ]
So you'll need to tell me. [ There's a smile in her words, light and easy. ] Whether you want me to go faster—? Slower—? All I need you to think about is what I'm doing, how it feels. That way, I can make sure this feels good for you.
[ She's being incredibly earnest about it all. She presses another kiss against his neck, feather-light. Then, teasingly, even with her sincerity: ]
Though I'm quite sure you won't have any trouble telling me, if you've been thinking about me doing this before.
And he wants her to keep going, wants her to touch him. Show him what she's learned. Flits between playfulness and seriousness, her own heart quickening at that — her eyes flicking between between his gaze and his throat, wanting to kiss him there. She takes a breath, shuddery on the exhale — trying to steady the little twist of nerves that entwines itself with the excitement. Another smile toying with the corners of her mouth as she briefly presses her lips to his, then shifts her head to start peppering more kisses to his cheek, his jaw; trailing down his neck, his throat — gentle, fluttering little things, unhurried and careful.
She takes her time with it. Hands trembling slightly, working to undo his suit pants, one slipping between layers of fabric — fingers finding, then brushing against him. She pauses from her kisses, uttering another shaky breath against his throat that softly voices into a sigh — explorative touches, testing. He feels so warm against her fingertips. And even if Luna has an idea of what she's doing, this is still... so new to her. She's never touched him before like this, and not even her 'research' can prepare her for that. Her heart skips feverishly, loud in her ears.
Then finally, her fingers close around him and she gently tugs him free. She pulls away a little, then. Not quite able to help herself, head tilting to look down between them, at him. She wants to see him, too. There's another soft breath from her, as if uttering some sort of silent 'Oh, that's what it looks like.' Her eyes widen slightly, darkening with a quiet intensity — something hungry, wanting, excited. Biting down on her lower lip, there's a little hum, curiosity and appreciation, pleased.
... It's perhaps a blessing that only words can pass between their mental link, she's... taking a little moment to herself to... picture a few things. She's quiet for a short while, just smiling away to herself with her cheeks darkening even more. ]
Although even with research— [ It startles out of her softly, remembering herself. There's another hum and she gives him a slow, gentle squeeze. ] I don't know... exactly what you like. Everyone's a bit different, aren't they?
[ Still more learning to be done, and the thought makes her laugh a little. A tiny chuckle in her throat as she leans in once more, moves back to pressing more kisses against his throat. They're slower, lingering ones now — her lips brushing against his skin, never pulling back too far from him. Her hand finally moves, mirroring her kisses: slow and lazy movements. She knows enough to start slow, it's not something that needs rushed. Her kisses move upwards, close to his ear, her voice hushes when she next speaks. ]
So you'll need to tell me. [ There's a smile in her words, light and easy. ] Whether you want me to go faster—? Slower—? All I need you to think about is what I'm doing, how it feels. That way, I can make sure this feels good for you.
[ She's being incredibly earnest about it all. She presses another kiss against his neck, feather-light. Then, teasingly, even with her sincerity: ]
Though I'm quite sure you won't have any trouble telling me, if you've been thinking about me doing this before.
( There's a soft sound as Luna's kisses move to his jaw and then neck, little gestures trickling down against his throat. Peter's loose and draped against the sofa cushions, body limp and comfortable, although there's a soft tension when Luna's fingers undo buttons, unable to help his back arching inwards just a little with a quiet hitch of breath — one that turns into a louder gasp when the girl finds him, and Peter's hands momentarily leave her sides, sliding back and down on either side of himself, curling inwards against the sofa beneath him more tightly. Oh— he breathes out a softer sound, the echo of a laugh, something both startled and pleased, pupils blossoming darker.
It— feels so different than he imagined, real and not fantasy, Luna's fingers cool to the touch against him, but pleasantly so; he likes the way it feels, secure. His own heart's pounding just as much, and he's sitting very still, almost as though afraid to move — but his eyes slowly lower to watch her, seeing the way his girlfriend's looking downwards for that moment, at him. Peter's immediately flushed all over again, shy and nervous and pleased, a whirlwind of emotions (he.... realises he quite likes watching her watch him.....)
A feeling that only amplifies as he witnesses Luna smiling like that.... Oh. Ohhhhh, man. He feels himself react to that, feels his body give movements against her hand, little twitches, jumps — cheeks flushing again as he barely suppresses a shuddery little moan. But it's... a lot, to be touched, after so long — it's almost surreal, almost overwhelming, except Luna never could be and she keeps it from ever feeling that way, with her slow gentleness, with her warm, loving smiles, with her assurances. ...His body's certainly thrilled by all of it, not shy at all to react, and Peter's swallowing as Luna starts kissing him again, unable to even think about suppressing the tremour that ripples right through him, almost violently.
His fingers are curling harder into the sofa, but then he lets them find her again, nudging gently up under the sides of her dress and over Luna's thighs, thumbs gently pressing inwards as he gives a long, slow exhale outwards. God, she feels so good, and that coupled with the things she's saying....... When Peter's finally able to speak again, it comes out slightly hoarse, and he has to clear his throat softly. )
When I think about you..... ( .........He's thought about her doing lots of things, admittedly, things that they definitely aren't delving into just yet, and yes it's a very good thing that mental pictures don't transfer through their link, because a few of those do flicker through his memory, and Peter flushes again. Feels himself reacting in new ways, something's— oh. He startles a little, eyes dropping back downwards to look at himself, and although it's hard to see from here, it's...... He's definitely a bit leaky. ...Pretty leaky, actually. He knows what this... is... (it sounds so crude to voice aloud, so he doesn't, fucking pre-cum, who made up that word??) but it's still— hopefully this isn't gross for her. His brows lift, and he gives another hapless, shy little laugh, embarrassed around one of the edges, amused around the other. )
....Sorry. I'm. Um. This feels really good. ( .....Clearly. And he's about to try and answer again, but the rush of nervous energy bubbles up in him again and Peter's suddenly clasping a hand against his mouth, gently. Laughing a little bit against it, tickled and embarrassed all in a pleasant, shy haze. )
I'm sorry. Oh my god. This is probably a little gross, right...? It's okay if you think it is.
( Peter calling yourself gross is probably not the best way to keep a sexy mood )
It— feels so different than he imagined, real and not fantasy, Luna's fingers cool to the touch against him, but pleasantly so; he likes the way it feels, secure. His own heart's pounding just as much, and he's sitting very still, almost as though afraid to move — but his eyes slowly lower to watch her, seeing the way his girlfriend's looking downwards for that moment, at him. Peter's immediately flushed all over again, shy and nervous and pleased, a whirlwind of emotions (he.... realises he quite likes watching her watch him.....)
A feeling that only amplifies as he witnesses Luna smiling like that.... Oh. Ohhhhh, man. He feels himself react to that, feels his body give movements against her hand, little twitches, jumps — cheeks flushing again as he barely suppresses a shuddery little moan. But it's... a lot, to be touched, after so long — it's almost surreal, almost overwhelming, except Luna never could be and she keeps it from ever feeling that way, with her slow gentleness, with her warm, loving smiles, with her assurances. ...His body's certainly thrilled by all of it, not shy at all to react, and Peter's swallowing as Luna starts kissing him again, unable to even think about suppressing the tremour that ripples right through him, almost violently.
His fingers are curling harder into the sofa, but then he lets them find her again, nudging gently up under the sides of her dress and over Luna's thighs, thumbs gently pressing inwards as he gives a long, slow exhale outwards. God, she feels so good, and that coupled with the things she's saying....... When Peter's finally able to speak again, it comes out slightly hoarse, and he has to clear his throat softly. )
When I think about you..... ( .........He's thought about her doing lots of things, admittedly, things that they definitely aren't delving into just yet, and yes it's a very good thing that mental pictures don't transfer through their link, because a few of those do flicker through his memory, and Peter flushes again. Feels himself reacting in new ways, something's— oh. He startles a little, eyes dropping back downwards to look at himself, and although it's hard to see from here, it's...... He's definitely a bit leaky. ...Pretty leaky, actually. He knows what this... is... (it sounds so crude to voice aloud, so he doesn't, fucking pre-cum, who made up that word??) but it's still— hopefully this isn't gross for her. His brows lift, and he gives another hapless, shy little laugh, embarrassed around one of the edges, amused around the other. )
....Sorry. I'm. Um. This feels really good. ( .....Clearly. And he's about to try and answer again, but the rush of nervous energy bubbles up in him again and Peter's suddenly clasping a hand against his mouth, gently. Laughing a little bit against it, tickled and embarrassed all in a pleasant, shy haze. )
I'm sorry. Oh my god. This is probably a little gross, right...? It's okay if you think it is.
( Peter calling yourself gross is probably not the best way to keep a sexy mood )
Edited 2023-05-22 03:58 (UTC)
[ She has to admit, she's quite enjoying this. Perhaps even more so that she suspects Peter might be enjoying it. There's a certain kind of delight in getting to see how she's affecting him. The little sounds he makes, the way his body shifts and moves with her touches. The breathy laughter, and the way he flushes over and over. But it also makes her feel good knowing she's doing this to him, that she's making him feel good. As gently and carefully as it is, even with how they're taking their time with it. Something easy, and natural.
And she's almost painfully aware of when his hands find her again; sliding a little further up her thighs, the shifting of fabric, thumbs pressing against her skin. The pressure of it making her squirm ever so slightly in his lap. It actually stops her from her kisses, uttering a shaky exhale — the soft voice of a moan mixed in with it. Sweet Merlin, it's terribly distracting. She has to take a moment to try and recollect herself. To not lose herself in that sensation since she's supposed to be focusing on him. But it's... not a distraction she minds.
She quickly tries to shake it from her when Peter finally brings himself to speak, wanting to focus on what he's saying: when I think about you— but he trails off, unable to finish. Luna feels him startle slightly and she pulls back a little to check on him, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. The answer is there immediately and she breathes out a soft sound. Something hot and a little sticky against her fingers. For a brief moment, she actually wonders if Peter might have.... finished. Which would be quite... amazing, but she's sure she's not that good. But she does look down between them briefly and inhales with clarity, voicing a soft ah. She remembers this, with her own 'research'. It must be quite a normal thing then, she thinks.
But Peter's laughing, and she can't help but chuckle a little — as if the laughter between them reverberates from one to the other. In truth, it's... a bit ridiculous how bodies can be, really. They can be a little gross, perhaps. But she certainly doesn't find anything Peter's is currently doing to be gross. She pulls away to gaze down at him, amusement and affection in her smile before she shakes her head. ]
No, I don't think it's gross. [ She hums thoughtfully, pausing for a long moment before she dares herself into her next move. Her gaze lowers between them once more, lips purse briefly. Her thumb brushes pointedly against the tip of him, using it to help her as she continues to the slow, easy movements of her hand. ]
I think... messy, maybe? But I'm alright with a little messy. [ There's something impish in her eyes at that before she continues, her voice dropping low into a hushed whisper: ] And besides, it's... not just boys that get— well, messy when they're aroused.
[ Her eyebrows raise slightly, if he catches her.... meaning. Yes, she knows that's not fair. That is incredibly terrible of her to say when he's currently in his position. And no, her hand still hasn't stopped from what it's doing — her hand slick but still allowing a little bit of friction with each stroke. She does have a very good point—! Bodies are messy—! There is something good-natured in her with it all, despite the fact she's teasing him terribly.
Her head tilts to one side in curiosity. ]
So... 'when I think about you'—? You didn't quite finish.
And she's almost painfully aware of when his hands find her again; sliding a little further up her thighs, the shifting of fabric, thumbs pressing against her skin. The pressure of it making her squirm ever so slightly in his lap. It actually stops her from her kisses, uttering a shaky exhale — the soft voice of a moan mixed in with it. Sweet Merlin, it's terribly distracting. She has to take a moment to try and recollect herself. To not lose herself in that sensation since she's supposed to be focusing on him. But it's... not a distraction she minds.
She quickly tries to shake it from her when Peter finally brings himself to speak, wanting to focus on what he's saying: when I think about you— but he trails off, unable to finish. Luna feels him startle slightly and she pulls back a little to check on him, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. The answer is there immediately and she breathes out a soft sound. Something hot and a little sticky against her fingers. For a brief moment, she actually wonders if Peter might have.... finished. Which would be quite... amazing, but she's sure she's not that good. But she does look down between them briefly and inhales with clarity, voicing a soft ah. She remembers this, with her own 'research'. It must be quite a normal thing then, she thinks.
But Peter's laughing, and she can't help but chuckle a little — as if the laughter between them reverberates from one to the other. In truth, it's... a bit ridiculous how bodies can be, really. They can be a little gross, perhaps. But she certainly doesn't find anything Peter's is currently doing to be gross. She pulls away to gaze down at him, amusement and affection in her smile before she shakes her head. ]
No, I don't think it's gross. [ She hums thoughtfully, pausing for a long moment before she dares herself into her next move. Her gaze lowers between them once more, lips purse briefly. Her thumb brushes pointedly against the tip of him, using it to help her as she continues to the slow, easy movements of her hand. ]
I think... messy, maybe? But I'm alright with a little messy. [ There's something impish in her eyes at that before she continues, her voice dropping low into a hushed whisper: ] And besides, it's... not just boys that get— well, messy when they're aroused.
[ Her eyebrows raise slightly, if he catches her.... meaning. Yes, she knows that's not fair. That is incredibly terrible of her to say when he's currently in his position. And no, her hand still hasn't stopped from what it's doing — her hand slick but still allowing a little bit of friction with each stroke. She does have a very good point—! Bodies are messy—! There is something good-natured in her with it all, despite the fact she's teasing him terribly.
Her head tilts to one side in curiosity. ]
So... 'when I think about you'—? You didn't quite finish.
so following up on this whole pasta thing, did you ever disclose to me what kind of pasta you are cause if you did there is approx 99.5% chance i have forgotten.
[ SUS. ] ˓˓ ⍥⃝⃝ ˒˒
DID YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A WITCH I DON'T REMEMBER THAT [ potentially unsurprisingly, he was pretty high. ] if youre a witch person then you could, reasonably, become a pasta. or has fiction lied to me all these years
DID YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A WITCH I DON'T REMEMBER THAT [ potentially unsurprisingly, he was pretty high. ] if youre a witch person then you could, reasonably, become a pasta. or has fiction lied to me all these years
It's possible I didn't tell you that, although Peter does tell people I'm a witch when he talks about me. [ Either way, she doesn't remember. ]
I probably could! Although it'd be far easier to turn someone else into a pasta. Probably. I'm not quite sure if there's a spell for that.
I probably could! Although it'd be far easier to turn someone else into a pasta. Probably. I'm not quite sure if there's a spell for that.
ok so. hypothetical: if u turned someone into a pasta and then someone ate them what would happen. purely hypothetical.
guess that makes sense don't it.
anyway, what pasta would you be
also i don't want to eat you, ur cool.
anyway, what pasta would you be
also i don't want to eat you, ur cool.
cute. hmm
capellini. as i am but a smol and fragile thing [ lmao. ]
capellini. as i am but a smol and fragile thing [ lmao. ]
dont u start flirting with me witchy woman, i'll tell ur boyfriend.
more seriously, cause now im remembering a little more. you know, things have been a little wild lately but what kind of magic do you practice?
more seriously, cause now im remembering a little more. you know, things have been a little wild lately but what kind of magic do you practice?
I assure you, Peter's the only person I want. 🥰 [ She is very smitten. ]
Well, the kind from my own world is a bit different. It's wandwork mostly, I can do a bit of everything. Charms, Transfiguration, defensive and offensive spells. And I can make potions too.
But I've been learning about different kinds. Occult kinds of magic, and then the blood magic of this place. It's all much more ritual based than my own magic.
Well, the kind from my own world is a bit different. It's wandwork mostly, I can do a bit of everything. Charms, Transfiguration, defensive and offensive spells. And I can make potions too.
But I've been learning about different kinds. Occult kinds of magic, and then the blood magic of this place. It's all much more ritual based than my own magic.
[ aww, that's cute. he's glad, in all seriousness, that they have one another. ] okay so. okay.
i do not understand magic. at all. i come from a pretty science based reality and there are people who believe in magic but its never really been proven to exist like this place. i am still having a hard time dealing with the fact that the moon powers shit. moons do not work that way in my world.
anway. apparently i'm a coldblood. sure, i've read some shit but uh. would you, are you willing to help people out with stuff like that?
i do not understand magic. at all. i come from a pretty science based reality and there are people who believe in magic but its never really been proven to exist like this place. i am still having a hard time dealing with the fact that the moon powers shit. moons do not work that way in my world.
anway. apparently i'm a coldblood. sure, i've read some shit but uh. would you, are you willing to help people out with stuff like that?
... I can imagine how all of this is quite overwhelming.
If it helps, while the moon in my world is relevant to magic and its processes, it's certainly not like here. I've only known of three worlds where the moon is an actual entity of sorts, including this one.
[ Honestly, it's quite a new concept for her, too. ]
I'm a Paleblood, but I'd certainly be willing to try and see what I could do to help. I'm guessing you've been given some kind of elemental-based blood magic abilities.
Have you talked to other Coldbloods? They might be able to give you some insight too.
If it helps, while the moon in my world is relevant to magic and its processes, it's certainly not like here. I've only known of three worlds where the moon is an actual entity of sorts, including this one.
[ Honestly, it's quite a new concept for her, too. ]
I'm a Paleblood, but I'd certainly be willing to try and see what I could do to help. I'm guessing you've been given some kind of elemental-based blood magic abilities.
Have you talked to other Coldbloods? They might be able to give you some insight too.
uh. the moon is... alive, here? [ @@;; ]
what's up with palebloods? as far as i've been told, yeah. we have some kind of element-based shit. anything that "burns". which is exciting i always wanted to wield a sledgehammer that's on fire.
not lady though, she's already rigged with electricity
BUT THEN luna
i don't think i could cheat on lady like that, you know???
[ yes he got completely carried away and didn't reply to half of what luna said, woops. ]
what's up with palebloods? as far as i've been told, yeah. we have some kind of element-based shit. anything that "burns". which is exciting i always wanted to wield a sledgehammer that's on fire.
not lady though, she's already rigged with electricity
BUT THEN luna
i don't think i could cheat on lady like that, you know???
[ yes he got completely carried away and didn't reply to half of what luna said, woops. ]
Sort of. The moon is still the moon, but the moon is also Moon Presence. You've maybe seen her in the skies, an enormous, tentacled being? She's the reason why we have Lunar Orbs for power, and she controls the moon cycles. She's lovely.
[ Luna's quite a big fan. ]
Palebloods tend to have abilities that are mental-based. Telepathy, dream-walking, precognition. That sort of thing. I have the ability of Prophecy, although I learned recently it won't be something I'll ever be able to control. [ She's learned that it usually happens during times of... uh, 'natural bleeding', as the Pthumerians call it. Or she can perform blood rituals to bring one on, but there's very little control otherwise. ]
I'm sorry but... who is "lady"...?
[ Luna's quite a big fan. ]
Palebloods tend to have abilities that are mental-based. Telepathy, dream-walking, precognition. That sort of thing. I have the ability of Prophecy, although I learned recently it won't be something I'll ever be able to control. [ She's learned that it usually happens during times of... uh, 'natural bleeding', as the Pthumerians call it. Or she can perform blood rituals to bring one on, but there's very little control otherwise. ]
I'm sorry but... who is "lady"...?
oh. yeah, always wondered what was up with that but kind of thought maybe i was hallucinating. you know, lotta mushrooms around these parts. [ SHRUG EMOJI. ]
gasp!!! How have I not introduced you to Lady Smash. She's mmyyyy sledge hammer, of course! would you like to see her??
gasp!!! How have I not introduced you to Lady Smash. She's mmyyyy sledge hammer, of course! would you like to see her??
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