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Hugtopia Contact Post (NSFW Edition)
| action | let's get dirty |
( current non-NSFW contact post )
( original contact post )
| action | let's get dirty |
( current non-NSFW contact post )
( original contact post )
| action | let's get dirty |
( current non-NSFW contact post )
( original contact post )
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His complaint is quaintly endearing, though, and she decides to be completely unhelpful, just for fun: ]
I think this is the messiest I’ve seen you.
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Can we pick up the pace? I cannot wait to get these clothes off.
[Begone, mess!! If he wasn't the way he is, he'd probably be dragging his shirt off right here in the street.]
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Maybe it because the only other times she’s seen him remotely disheveled are when they’ve just finished—-
Perhaps she could have dismissed this thought on a better day, had he not mentioned taking off his clothes. But he says those words and she feels a brief flare of warmth tingle through her, imagining him not just taking his clothes off, but taking his clothes off for her, and he’d get that slightly smirkish smile that he only sometimes looks at her with but it’s a treat every time as he’d push her gently to their bed and crawl atop of her, and his pants would be too tight for him—
Now’s!! Not the time..!
Pyra clears her throat, attempting to sound casual. ]
Don’t you have a spare t-shirt in your armory…?
just gonna mark this as nsfw preemptively--
I usually do... I cleared out most of the stuff in there we didn't need to make space for potions, though. I guess I can toss the usual back in now that things have calmed down.
[The warmth persists, spreading gradually and bringing a flush to his cheeks, so he shrugs out of his jacket first, hanging it over an arm. They're not far from home, so it won't take that long for them to get themselves through the door. And then he's free to whip these dusty clothes off and-
-oh. It clicks, then; the warmth, the expression. The quiet restraint in her tone. He pauses, clearing his throat, then leans in to sling an arm around her shoulders, fighting back a smile.]
Y'know... sweat can make fabric really stick in place. I might need help getting it off.
[Get it- oh, hang on.
...It's! Been a while! He's realizing, now. Everything got put on pause since he almost died, and she's been incredibly patient with him, to the point where he'd probably failed to notice these moments. His inattentiveness has been more than merited, sure, but he's in much better condition now, and if he's reading the signs right, he knows precisely what she's thinking. At least, his own body does.]
it is his nsfw contact post
By the time he finishes speaking, her mind's already skipped too many barriers, directly linking need help getting it off to getting him off.
...He's still being casual, though. Stay cool, Pyra. She shouldn't be thinking about how she misses the feeling of both his fingers on her, in her, and all the noises and expressions he makes when her hands are around him, coaxing out more with each second.
Pyra has no heartbeat, but the energy within her shudders, quick and pulsing with a warmer heat, as if thrilled by the prospect of-- something. Now that warmth spreads visibly to her cheeks. ] I can-- [ A little too eager, there. ] help with that.
[ Does he want it off now, because her eyes are sweeping over his torso... ]
shh covers bases
He'd meant what he said before: he wanted to get home faster, so with an approving hum he tilts his head to kiss her jawline, his hand at her shoulder sliding over a sensitive spot on her neck, and he whispers, intentionally husky,]
To the victor, the spoils.
[And then he pulls away and calls his blade out, warping in the direction of the house. Race home! He's not stripping in the middle of the street, but the sooner they get there, the sooner she can do whatever she wants with him.]
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She's never felt so invigorated to win in a race.
she's gonna get that D!!Pyra's going to be making up for his head start by attempting to strategize her warping route better. ]
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He warps from roof to roof, weaving through broken structures, careful of unstable surfaces, and keeping an eye out for her as they go. It doesn't technically matter who wins, but there's no stopping his competitive streak now that he's woken it up.]
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She tries her hardest to beat him (heh) back to their home, but he's quicker and far more experienced than her at warping with his magic. By the time she stumbles in through their front door and makes it to their room, believing that she's won, nope. There he is, standing by the bed.
Surprised causes her eyes to widen at first, but then she smiles at him, stepping forward, raising her hands upward, surrendering her loss. But is it really a loss? She gives him a full once-over, taking in his still-tussled state and how the wind of his warping has pushed back some of his bangs. ]
You were ahead of me so much, I didn't even see you enter the house.
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I did get a head start, but yeah. [He won, hell yeah.] So what should my prize be...?
[He looks her up and down, taking stock of her surrendering posture, her smile, and her own flustered state. There's not much subtlety in his gaze as it lingers on the parts of her outfit where the skin shows through.]
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I don't know, but maybe...
[ She steps forward, hands going up the sides of her own body. As her fingertips trail over her outfit and up her breast, little patches of light appear upon the fabric as if they're being burned, dissolved away. Not all of her shirt fades, but it leaves a stringy, mesh-like cover over in its place, as if she's just come from battle. ] It involves a little less on?
[ Whether he wants to take her clothes off or she do a strip-tease for him, she's oblige. ]
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Show me.
[Her expression and that little tease she'd done with her clothes- he wants more of that, suddenly. It doesn't matter that he's seen it all before, as every time it's great, while the anticipation he feels and the way she smiles now makes it all the better. He's still thriving off the adrenaline rush of their race, his heart beating fast, ready for more.]
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Her hips sway with the ripple, a movement that she morphs into a half-turn from him. Glancing at Noctis from over her shoulder, she smiles at him, taking in his posture and expression. Pyra isn't a dancer, but she can put a small show on just for him. ] My pleasure...
[ Her fingers pull at the meshwork of her top, changing it over her skin in patterns that are half-formed between light and fabric. The mesh shifts organically, becoming more like webbing, then lace-like over her skin. She's intentionally pressing her palms to herself and over the flat of her stomach, traveling upward, cupping the underside of her breasts and then sinking her fingers into the soft flesh. One hand begins to knead into herself, toying with her own body as more fabric unravels. She watches him hungrily as she turns against, slowly. Her touch isn't as good as his, but he's there, watching her, and that's almost just as good to evoke a sound, soft and breathy, from her lips as heat flows through her.
Her hand moves upward, and her arms extend in a lazy stretch, pulling the lace-light top off of her. With a flick of her wrist, it dissolves, and she turns to face him with her other arm covering her chest. Slowly, she allows it to drop from her breasts to reveal herself completely, moving her hand down her hips to hook a thumb into her shorts. A gentle pull begins to dissolve them into a lacy, racy sort of undergarment, and she bends forward, flexible and showy, to do the same to her stockings. In a gesture that mimics removing her thigh-highs, her fingers run down one leg, then the other, allowing the fabric to shred into light.
Pyra steps towards Noctis, sauntering, slowly, as if he is a meal just ready to be savored, gaze going up, then down his body, obvious for what she wants.
Then she drops to a crouch before him, hands upon either of his knees, and she spreads them apart to allow herself to wedge herself between. ] Anything else...?
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U-uh... well... that was my prize, right? So... what do you want, for second place...?
[He swallows, and his expression speaks volumes of what he wants- to touch her, and for her to touch him more. Every spot she'd let her hands wander, he wants to mimic with his own and watch her expression as he does so. His fingers curl just imagining it, resistant as he waits for her answer. Push and pull- that's what this is. He wants to give as good as he gets, and whatever he's feeling... whatever she's feeling... it's already quite intense, turns out. He can feel it in waves, rippling through his body with an intensity he's not used to feeling so quickly. It's- nice. Unexpected, but he likes it.]
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[ Pyra lifts her torso from his hips, allowing her hands to move to the drawstring that keeps the waist of his pants intact. Undoing it, she pulls the fabric away and tugs what she needs to apart to have him free of the confines of cloth. With a devious accent to the light in her eyes, she bends forward, using her tongue to wet him, base to shaft to her mouse puckering to suck briefly upon his tip, explicit and showy with all of her focus upon him. But it'll be her hand working him today, because she can't exactly kiss him upon his mouth and enjoy his taste herself if it's otherwise occupied.
Pyra wraps one finger, then two, about his base, using what wetness she had left with her mouth as lubricant to glide up and down his shaft. Then she lifts herself, pressing a knee to the edge of the bed along his thigh to support herself. She moves to kiss him upon his bottom lip, attempting to tug his mouth open to allow her entrance. ]
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She's warm and soft against him as always, and there's heat coiling fast now, so much faster than usual; she might notice him rise in readiness beneath her touch, hardened and full, and before long his other hand tugs away from the bed to grasp her from behind with both, pulling her close enough that she's fully straddling him now. As he arches against her, hips rocking, the only thing blocking his path is her hand. He's eager, hungry, ready, and there's a request in his kiss as he deepens it further, pulling back only to gasp for a breath.]
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Try as she might to have her hand work him in a consistent rhythm, the angle is too tight between their bodies, and-- she can feel him wanting more, too. He needn't even ask.
Using her hand, Pyra positions herself and guides him in with a slick, wet and obvious sound. The feeling of him filling her completely causes another hot gasp to pass from her lips, and her hands cling to his shoulders as her body trembles. A pant, then another, follows with a whine as the barest of shudders against his body strikes a match of heat within her. Her hips rock forward. Another flare of pleasure ensues, and her back arches slightly. She opens her eyes to look at him to see if he's faring the same, and her own are filled with as much love as there is lust.
She kisses him before they really begin. ]
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With a noise almost akin to a growl he pulls her in and twists them around, setting her down against the edge of the mattress and leaning over her body, driving into her with the newfound momentum of his feet firmly planted on the ground. He dips to kiss her again, hands sliding along her thighs to help her wrap her long legs around his waist, trailing his lips down her cheek, neck, to her breasts, taking a nub in his mouth and rolling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He picks up the pace, drawing back to nearly his full length before rushing in once more, chasing that fire, that incredible high. He can feel- her, every inch of her, the sensations they're sharing. He doesn't understand it but at the same time he recognizes the feeling right to the core, like it's some long-lost language that only they understand. Him, her, as one, connected in a way they'd never been before. He's lost in it, and he loves it, loves her and how she makes him feel.]
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Every time he kisses her, it feels like fire, and her hands cling over his body greedily, nails raking in a tight hold over his skin. With both of her legs around him, she bucks her hips to take him in, angling them in a way that allows him to practically glide between her legs, sinking and thrusting and pulling back and returning to hot and wet heat in a way that she loves. In her most desperate of moments as they continue to connect, she finds one of his hands to take and squeeze. This is them, together; this is a moment that no one else can share but them, and it's beautiful and messy and exhilarating.
He'll feel this all for himself through their connection, the movement, the friction, the pleasure it causes her and the way her body responds to the fire he's ignited, building and building until it all becomes too much. The more she seeks breaks apart, the pressure snapping within her, and it's a torrent of pleasure let loose. Pyra's back arches dramatically against the bed, strained and lost to heat that electrifies her. Her voice staggers as her hips lift then lock into place against his, trembling and bucking twice as if to prolong the white-hot pleasure into which she sinks. Hooking her ankles behind his back, she calls his name-- lust still low and thick upon her tongue, but lovingly, gratefully-- into his ear. ]
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He can feel it just as intimately when she reaches that apex, his breath stuttering, gasping alongside her and faltering his thrust for a moment, experiencing an orgasm before his own hits him, and it leaves him stunned. He'd known- he'd felt- that was her-
Her whisper in his ear makes him shudder and begin to move again, riding out those incredible and disorienting waves of pleasure, trying to prolong the sensation for her (and- and him, he's still feeling it, god). He only makes it a few more thrusts before he sinks in deep one last time and releases, burying his face against her neck, panting her name like a prayer. He's locked in place, trapped inside her with limbs tangled around him; he's never felt so incredible in all his life, and for a while he's content to just breathe like that with her, letting those waves of heat, his and hers, ripple through him over and over.]
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N-Noct... [ She stutters at last, finding her voice hoarser from all of her gasps and groans from minutes before. ] That was...
[ Pretty damn amazing? He had just seemed so-- hungry for her, bolder, and she liked every part of it.
Her body quivers like the faint echo of an aftershock, and she bites upon her bottom lip helplessly for all of two seconds as her hips inadvertently lift against his. She's not looking for a round two, but still being joined like this, filled with him and dripping with him, warm and wet and linked, sends an embarrassing thrill up her spine she can't deny. ]
Wonderful.
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He lingers on it for a handful of seconds before lifting up again, eyes fluttering as he regains control of his muddling thoughts at last.]
Pyra... shit. [He huffs a breathless laugh, kissing her again helplessly, more briefly this time.] It was. I- I felt it. I felt you. Was it like that for you, too...?
[He doesn't understand what just happened, but he can hazard a guess- what changed between them is impossible to forget, after all. He can't help asking, relishing in curious wonder at the sensations she'd shared with him as they made love. Those senses still tingle, and he's reluctant to lose it, to pull away and distance himself from the heat of her pleasure. It's a warm glow now, like sitting at a campfire, a softer comfort.]
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She returns each kiss he gives, of course, smiling against his lips and skin, and then pressing her head back to the mattress to look up at him. She bangs clings to her forehead, but her eyes remain shining. ]
It was. [ And she liked that part, too, that feeling of them being in sync, of having to experience what he feels for herself. It's the absolute best feedback that she knows he's enjoying himself.
This is better than her only feeling his pain and injuries. She'd rather be shared his pleasure, his joy, his love, and have hers shared in return. ] I don't know why or how, but.
[ Her hand lifts from his should to press to his cheek. ] We really were as one. [ Mortal. Immortal. Human. Crystal. Whatever. They love each other, and they were able to truly be together. ]
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[Unexpected, but not unwelcome, for sure. His thoughts align with her own, thinking of the last time this came up: this is much, much better than his wounds appearing on her body. If she has to share his pain, he's glad they can at least share one another's pleasure to balance things out.
His hand lifts to cover hers at his cheek, thumb stroking idly over her skin. Still so warm, unblemished. He could gaze at every inch of her and not get tired of it; his free hand traces over the light lines along her body, a subtle exploration of paths he knows well already.]
Hey... I love you. [He leans in to kiss her again, drawing back to kiss at her cheek, her forehead.] I'm sorry I've been kinda... hands off, lately. But I'm really happy we did this.
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But then he says I'm sorry, and she quickly attempts to put a stop to that by bringing a finger up to his lips. ] None of that, okay?
[ He's sorry about being "hands off"? When he nearly died? When he had to become used to seeing a crystal upon his body, or the after-effects of how all those memories effected his mind? When the city was being eaten by worms? It's not as if she had been in the mood either with any of these things happening! That last thing she'd want is for him to feel he needs to apologize. ]
We're here together now... that's what mattes.
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