deafens | ( talk dirty to me )

{ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. }

( to be fair it isn't exactly like either of them were under the impression that anything would actually get watched. all things considered, nic's actually quite impressed with their - read, her - self-restraint. they're about an hour into some movie with a weird french title so kindly suggested for her by netflix when she loses interest. it's probably a good film, she should really rewatch it some time when she's not half draped against max's side with literally anything but movies on her mind.

it's pretty obvious when her attention shifts. her hand drags from sitting casually against his hip to low on his stomach, with just enough pressure for a slightly pale mark to trail behind her fingers. settling an inch or so below his bellybutton, she grins and shifts her weight, turning in against him and pressing her lips in light little moves that can barely count as kisses along his jaw. such a tease, really. )

Are you still watching?

( she says, as though she'd chill out if he said yes. )

[ they lasted an hour, holy shit. the movie has actually been pretty good, so that's a plus (and max makes a mental note to finish it later, after maybe), but the moment it slips into a slow lull in plot, his mind is straying (well, straying more) to the warm press of nic's body against his side just, apparently, as fast as she is. bless you, nic, you always have the best ideas for activities.

feeling her hand trailing over his skin, max exhales a sigh quietly, like the sound you make when you're settling into a warm bath, and your entire body starts to melt out all the tension. at the same time, tilting up his chin with a lazy smile curling his lips at her lips teasing along his jaw. ]

Not nearly.

[ clear enough in how the arm that'd been wrapped around her back the last hour starts to drift, fingertips trailing a little path along her side, down her ribs and along the side of her breast, to her hip, tracing the line of bone downward, to the indent where her thigh meets her pelvis. the other covers her hand on his stomach, and gently nudges her palm lower. here for this, bae. fuck this movie right now, honestly. his head tilts, enough to catch her lips up from their sneaking almost-kisses, and tug at her lower lip, teeth lightly kneading. ]

Good.

( there's a little smirk on her lips by the time max's catch hers, and for a moment she's content to writhe slowly under his touch and graze her hand slowly lower down his stomach. as always though, she's not great at holding out for any significant length of time. it's not long before that's not enough for her, and she surges forward slightly to press a little more insistently into the kiss.

she wastes no time in shifting her position, moving over him and straddling his thighs. fro this position it's easy to move a hand between his legs, though once she presses her palm flat against him once she quickly abandons that in favour of running one finger along his cock and watching his reaction. )

I think we can find other ways of entertaining ourselves. Right?

( she looks amused, the way she always does when she thinks she has the upper hand, and she keeps up the light brush of her fingers as she grinds hr hips slowly down against his thigh., )

[ bless her, bless her impatience, bless netflix and bless this boring interlude in the french movie, because max is drinking her in, licking into her mouth and parting his lips for more, deeper, harder, all of it. at least, until she's pulling away to straddle him. well, that's okay too, especially with a finger teasing along his thickening cock and the way she's using his thigh to roll her hips against. ]

I think we are exceedingly good at finding other ways to entertain ourselves.

[ really, it's a talent. said as he lifts the leg under her some, pressing up against the warmth between her thighs, a hand wandering up her leg to slip back to her ass as max moves to sit up some. he can feel the muscle flex under his palm, and gives a squeeze to a perfectly curved cheek, before hooking his arm around the small of her back and tugging her up closer.

with a soft, lazy smile, max isn't in that huge of a hurry, liking the way nic teases, liking how much nic enjoys teasing, but he grips at her hips, and manhandles her a bit. moves her to line up with him, pelvis over his, and tugs, wanting her to change where it is she's grinding on him, slick heat seated just against where his cock lies, hard, against his stomach. just slide a little, please, dear. ]

Edited 2015-11-10 11:37 (UTC)

Edited 2015-11-10 11:38 (UTC)

[ shenanigans. That's what this business comes out as more half the time when max lounges around nic's place, completely baked, until one of them starts digging in the sex toys drawer. At first, for the sake of giggles and snickers and having dildo lightsaber fights, but let's be real, they know where this will end up. Or, rather, the several specific options of where this will end up. with Max on his back, legs spread invitingly wide, being the choice one for today, and Nic hovering between his thighs, strap on bumping against his inner thigh. Max, still absurdly hard, despite the string of snickers that leaves him now and again, the flush of red coloring his chest and neck due, in part, to each.

Because the thought of nic pumping into him until he's seeing stars and feeling a warm, weightless tingle all over, and then flipping them to return the favor, is just too good to be ruined my his drug addled mind at the moment. ]

Be gentle. [ he half giggles out, mock-delicate and a little falsetto, hand gripping at the false cock jutting out from her hips, pretending at stroking it for a second, before his hand slips lower, fingertips brushing between nic's thighs, around the straps of the toy to drag along the slick warmth of her, tracing an idle path back and forward again. ]

I've been wounded before. [ we are now straying into soap opera territory. Look he's a little too high to be picky about what kind of swooning damsel he feels like being. Just fuck him before he gets too embarrassing, please. ]

( the problem is normally that she rarely takes sex seriously enough for it to get interesting, but with max he manages to strike the right balance between being a complete idiot and still remaining sexy, so it works. today that just means the strap on that's been sitting in a drawer totally unloved for months now is finally getting some much deserved use, and she's barely able to hold back a snort of laughter at the wounded comment. )

Oh, only if you promise to be good. ( she responds with as serious an expression as she can manage, which is broken the moment she feels his fingers brushing idly against her, and she walks two fingers up his chest slow and teasing in response. ) Are you going to be good for me, Max?

( it's funny and yet it's not at the same time, because she's one moment away from bursting into laughter but she's also clearly very turned on by the whole thing, and she closes her thighs briefly to press against his fingers again as her own reach his mouth and she taps his lip lightly, smirk back. )

Open up.

[ sex should be fun, and taking it too serious veers too much into the territory of, well, feelings, and max is way, way too high to be even considering responsibly handling feelings at the moment. of course, he likes nic, and he trusts nic to an incredible degree to have her do this sort of thing to him, but they're similar in that sex is for fun, and dating is something they have zero frame of reference or understanding for. somehow, that makes this easier. simpler. fun for the sake of fun, and getting off because it's just fucking good, and nic's fingers walking up his chest are a trail of teasing heat, max's back arching up with a blissful smile on his lips, eager for more of her touch. ]

I'm always good. [ that's a big fat fucking lie, and everyone present knows it. her thighs close around his fingers, pulling him tight against her, and max curls the digits some, slipping a middle finger into her and out again, slick and warm as he massages small circles against the central bundle of nerves, slow and languid and unhurried. ] What'll you do if I forget, madam?

[ the extra little emphasis on 'madam' there, because maybe he's trying to make her crack up at this point. because it's fun, because nic looks gorgeous when she smiles, because he's a fucking trash lord. slim fingertips tap at his lips, and despite the uppity talk, his jaw falls slack, and max tilts forward enough to take her fingers into his mouth, sucking at them, dragging his tongue between two, and letting out a maybe slightly exagerrated pornstar moan as he does. because he can.

not entirely certain if she wanted him blowing her fingers, but fuck it, he's doing it. seemed like a good idea at the time. ]

Edited 2015-11-14 08:19 (UTC)

( cw. knives, blood )
1, 2

[honestly, august is surprised it's never happened before now. he'd been quiet letting himself in, and with the steady beat of music coming from nic's room it would make sense that she didn't hear him. his hand turns the doorknob and the door is opened smoothly without a creak, for once.

what he's met with makes his breath catch in his throat. he stares, hand still on the doorknob because he doesn't dare let it go. the covers have been kicked back. too hot for them-- he doesn't blame her for that. he watches as her back arches from the bed; she's writhing as she goes, like she can't handle even her own touch. his eyes dart to her hand, which is gripping the headpost, and he has a sudden urge to tie it there, but he doesn't move for that.

instead, he moves forward, careful to keep from making too much noise. the only alert she'll have from his presence is the weight his hand gives on the mattress, pressing down as he moves between her legs. he kneels there, looking her over, as one of his hands brush against the inside of her thigh.

they don't hook up. or, they don't like her and tristan do, or her and anyone, really. this must be the second time. it's rare, but he couldn't pass it up. he looks at her, brows raising, a small smirk tugging at his lips,]

Hey.

( it's actually surprisingly uncommon for just about anyone to walk in on nicola during times like this. august is lucky enough to be one of the few who ticks all the boxes ( has a key, knows her room, is comfortable letting himself in, is quiet as fuck when he wants to be ) and given nic's libido runs at eleven on a bad day, it was inevitable really.

the mattress dips slightly as weight is pressed onto it, and though she jumps slightly at the interruption she almost surprises herself with how little she cares once she sees who it is. she slows her movements though, stops entirely with her fingers still pressed in place as she watches his approach.

it's a little weird. maybe. it's not, because nic sleeps with people as easily as most friends share a hug, but they've just never been those kinds of friends. there was that one time, but once is hardly enough for this to feel normal. and yet she doesn't move, save to spread her legs a little further and make room for him there. )

Fancy seeing you here.

( she tries to reply with funny, but her breathing is still laboured and her cheeks are still pink with effort, and it just winds up as a breathy little huff that accompanies the slight shiver that runs up her body as a hand comes into contact with her thigh. honestly she's wound tight enough to snap, by this point. )

Yeah, I'm sure it is.

[there are two reasons why august had never wanted to be involved with nic. one is that she's his best friend from childhood, and he doesn't want to jeopardize that. not that it could happen, though, because nic is so comfortable with nearly everything that it would be hard to fuck their relationship up. the second reason is more complicated; his interests in bed isn't something he wants to share with her. not that he absolutely has to have it his way, because he doesn't -- he's fine with going as far as the other person wants to go. but he can't share himself with nic the way he would with someone else; he doesn't want to scare her.

so as he drops back to sit against his heels, watching her chest rise and fall with labored breaths, he knows this can't happen too often, if again. and that's okay. he pulls his hand away from her skin to unbutton his shirt, quickly, and then he's tugging off his tie. the shirt is tossed somewhere, but the tie is kept in his hand.

he leans forward for a moment and it's easy for him to grab hold of her waist to drag her closer, and it seems like he's making her easier to reach, to touch, but --]

Trust me and hold still.

[he's not going to tie her up. instead, he holds the tie up in front of her in a brief is this okay? sort of motion before he continues, pressing the silk over her eyes and lifting head her just enough to tie it behind her.]

( for a moment nic is genuinely confused. of course she trusts him, but that's hardly relevant to what's happening here. she hasn't made any move to resume her previous efforts yet, and her fingers twitch slightly but that's it. it makes sense fairly quickly though, and once she realises why she's being pulled in towards him she quickly tilts her head forward to make it easier for him. )

Of course I trust you.

( and it really is as simple as that for her. tie secured in its place as a makeshift blindfold, she lowers her head and stretches both of her arms slowly above her head. her back arches just a fraction during the movements, the strain is just enough for her to let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction, and then she relaxes in front of august, one foot idly moving up against the outside of his leg where he kneels between her thighs. there's an unashamed smile on her face as she speaks again: )

Don't make me wait too long, please.

( god knows nic is the least patient person alive, practically )

( it's actually surprisingly easy to track the sequence of events that led them here. august had been, for lack of a better word, pretty fucked up when he knocked at her door. apparently hellfire doesn't always play nice or something like tht, she's not quite sure of the specifics. at any rate, nic isn't the best healer in the world at the best of times, let alone when she's stressed, and she'd needed help. the easiest way to boost any kind of magic, particularly within her class, is to use blood. again thanks to the stress, she'd cut far too deep and rough - she'll be surprised if there isn't a nasty scar there for life now - and her hand is still bleeding long after the ritual is complete and august is back to not dying.

it's still bleeding. blood loss isn't a big concern for her, magic users' bodies tend to run everything a little faster, and it's probably replenishing faster than she's losing anything, but it's not a great idea to just let herself bleed away like this. except she doesn't actually get a chance to do anything about it, because before she manages to turn away she feels a hand at her wrist, and she turns back to look at no-longer half dead gus, and- oh.

honestly she doesn't think she's ever seen anyone look at her the way his eyes are zeroed in on her right now. )

I should...do something with this.

( she comments, quietly, but instead of making any move to leave she just watches him with a quiet curiosity, wondering what his next move will be. )

[there's always an allure to being healed after a nasty run-in with something, always a calm before the rush of blood to the head that has him up and running again, again and again. lazy waves of thoughts have him sitting upright, but whatever euphoria came from the healing is quickly broken by the smell and amount of blood that's coming from nic.

it happens immediately, an unconscious, quick effort that has him grabbing her wrist to stop her in her tracks. the pupil dilation is fast and his iris is almost nonexistent with how wide his pupils are now. his breath hitches. he acknowledges that she needs to fix it up, acknowledges that he should let her go, but he doesn't.

his grip isn't tight enough that she won't be able to pull away if she wants to, and he's not exactly doing anything to further open the wound, but what he does start to do is a little strange. eyes half-lidded and in a trance-like state, he is as gentle as possible as he brings her hand to his face, pressing her palm against his cheek before pulling it to his lips.

which is where he stops himself. his grip loosens, his eyes snap wide open and he's letting her go, horrified. nic is his best friend. he hasn't seen her in god knows how long and this is how he's repaying her? he can't even look at her. what a funny sight he must be, blood smeared on his face, tongue darting out to catch whatever is left on his lips.]

I'm sorry. Go -- go [he clears his throat, focusing on the floor,] clean yourself up.

( nic has....a wide taste, that much everyone knows is true. it's probably par for the course with revolving through a lot of hookups, but there's a great variety from one person to the other, from one day to the next. it's all over the place, basically, just like her.

one thing that has never come into it is blood though, she's never even thought about it before now. and then august pressed his lips to the cut on her palm and it's like touching an exposed wire. he's absolutely right, she should go. she should fix her hand up and they should give him time to recuperate and her time to replenish herself and nic suddenly can't think of any reason to think about any of those very reasonable priorities.

instead she moved her hand until she can touch a thumb to his lips, catching a drop of blood that had been left behind and gently pushing it back into his mouth. her eyes squint slightly as she focuses on him, curious and almost as intense as he'd been only moments before with her. )

No...I don't think so. ( she says. her voice is a little faraway, distracted, but she steps in a little closer and waits to see what exactly he'll do next. ) I think I want to stay right here, actually.

[when nic pushes the blood into his mouth, august is genuinely surprised, and even moreso when she speaks. it takes a moment for him to put his next words together, so much so that he repeats her to buy himself some time.]

You want to stay here.

[his voice can only be described as sultry, the kind of low and intimate voice he uses when he's alone with another person. he takes her wounded hand in his once more, thanking himself for never putting his shirt back on after she'd healed him. the blood flow had slowed significantly, but that doesn't stop him from pressing her palm against his bare skin. the smell of iron in the air is pungent; he likes it that way.]

I... like it. The look, the smell, the taste, the feel.

[he's never really told anyone that much about his obsession. he leaves it up to nic to decide what to do next.]

( she just nods her response, taking a step closer in and pushing her palm up flush against the skin. she flexes her hand slightly, nothing dramatic, but enough that it stretches the wound just enough to keep the blood flowing. she can manage it quite well after all, between magic and general first aid there's no real chance of nic bleeding out from a deeper-than-needed ritual palm cut.

really, when compared to some of her habits this one is actually quite safe. )

Yeah, ( she mumbles softly in reply, a little unnecessary commentary. her other hand moves to cup his cheek and she leans in to press her lips against the corner of his mouth. it's not quite a kiss, not yet, but it's almost there. ) how much do you like it?

( sure hope this doesn't awaken anything weird in her... )

( it's all nic's fault, really.

nothing like this has ever happened before - she's flirted, of course, because nic's incapable of not pushing boundaries - and then nic went and decided that she couldn't be bothered doing drop offs on one particular day, and made everyone come to her apartment instead. by the time cat arrives after school is out, nic's already high. this in and of itself isn't particularly rare, most of her waking hours are spent intoxicated in one way or another, but this time it just means she's a little flirtier, a little more pliant and a little closer as she places a lit joint between the older woman's lips.

they're standing close enough now that it seems almost a shame to waste the proximity. she doesn't take her eyes off of cat's as she steps in a little closer, moving well and truly into her personal space, and though she halts for a moment to watch her carefully for signs of resistance, it is only for a moment, and then her hand is brushing under her top, skimming just inside the waistband of pants until she finds a button to release. )

( talk dirty to me )

i have nothing appropriate for this

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⇒ open

⇒ open

⇒ open

⇒ open, threesome

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Idefk what happened here

i love it tho

:'3 yes good

⇒ open

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yolo

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lbrh they probably hooked up all the time

i have no chill and u have no chill this is deffo something

this is a 0 chill zone u r welcome here

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brings this back bitch

gurgles

no really doNT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT

bad bad bad this is bad

a+++++++