carbungle | IC Contact

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[...oh. oh, wow.

He bites his lip to muffle a quiet groan as she rubs her leg against him, feeling a soft stir of warmth spreading from her body to his own, coaxing his spent arousal towards life again. When she shivers at his hand on her breast he moves his fingers experimentally, squeezing gently, caressing her skin, his thumb brushing over her nipple to see what she likes. She's bare now, and he finds himself wanting more, so he shifts his legs and hips away from her just long enough to kick his pants the rest of the way off, ignoring them as they disappear of the edge of the bed. He misses her warmth already, and presses up against her once more, skin to skin, legs twining.

Taking a deep breath, because it's one thing to know she wants it and another to actually do it, he forgoes her thigh between his legs and opts instead to rub directly against her, coaxing his body back to hardness by seeking out her heat. He wants that fire back... he's already starting to burn.]

...I, uh. [His voice almost cracks, and he goes bright red - moreso than he was already - swallowing hard and trying again.] I got, um. Condoms...

[Which might be the most clear-cut tell that he has in fact been thinking about this before now.]

[ Just a flick of his fingers over her breast's tip has her strain against him as a whine passes through her lips. She feels that, alright, as if it directly twines herself within the further he fondles. Her chest is heavy-- literally, of course, and supple, but also heavy with her breaths, her lips against his neck in a half-formed kiss, a half-pant. She has no heart, but her body pulses with desire, laced with shivers and near-desperate keens, fingers digging into his arms tightly.

She's been thinking of this, too, because the one night he had coaxed her climax from her had left her wanting both to give to him in return and have more of him, of what it would be like to feel him truly against her, with her as one, to share in this pleasure and connection together. Her imagination simply isn't enough. ]

Condoms? [ Pyra eyes blink open, her gaze hazy with desire, half-lidded from the wonderful damage he's doing to her. Gingerly, she lifts her thigh from between his legs to move over his. Coolness greets the crux of her legs briefly, and it's with a urging push and a turn that she makes herself straddle atop him. She's wet. She's ready. He'll feel it as obviously as the way she looks at him, leaning forward upon him, exhaling from the contact. ] You don't-- really... Noct, you don't need them.

[ He's seen what her body is made of. There ain't no organs there! Her birth control is ~magic~.

She leans over him, her hands sliding up his chest to over his shoulders, her touch leaving his body to palm at the mattress upon either side of his head. Her whisper comes low, ] Let me... let me feel you.

[He opens his mouth to object - because it can't just be okay, because he has to be responsible here, something about duty and lineage and magic, things that don't come up in a normal person's sex ed. It takes a few seconds to click, in part because her shifted position makes him stutter through a gasp, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as his length is trapped beneath her, rubbed teasingly against the wet warmth between her legs. In part also because he'd forgotten she wasn't human, something easy to forget when she's so real and responsive beneath his fingers. Crystal, or energy, whatever- she's a person, and he'd categorized her as someone who he would need condoms for.

He's then momentarily derailed by the fact that had he realized this before, he could have avoided the embarrassment of 1) asking Era about it and thus implying he was on the brink of having a sex life, and 2) having to buy condoms from robots.

He shivers, looking up at her with somewhat glossy eyes, trying to refocus on that. It's far more interesting than his fluster, which he'll have plenty of time to worry about later. He moves his hands to press them onto her hips, fingers gliding over her thighs, rocking a little against her.]

I'm, ah... I'm in, if you want it.

[it's not a question; he knows she does, can feel it in waves. And now that the words are out of his mouth, it occurs to him that he would very much like to be in.]

[ Her wet warmth coats him where they are connected at the hips, obvious that there is no question of if. She wants this, wants him, to feel him and be connected to him. She smiles, leaning forward to give him a kiss upon his forehead. ] O...Okay... Let's.

[ With his consent, she's not waiting any longer to bring this act to its final course, and she lifts herself off of him by a few reaches to reach for his length to help with positioning. His tip is shiny with a coating both his pleasure and her tongue from before, making his shaft slicker in her hands. She presses her sex to his with a silent swallow, head to entrace, the sensitivity of which pulses and tingles from just the trace of him there.

She sinks just a bit deeper onto him, and here she draws another breath as the breach begins, thighs trembling in want and anticipation, and it takes all of her control to not quicken the descent to satisfy emptiness inside her. But she knows she must pace herself-- for him, for herself, for not knowing how he might feel, and to allow herself to adjust to his girth. A few seconds pass, and she slips him inside of her, her folds and her warmth enveloping the entirety of his tip hungrily. She knows to relax to make this easier, but nothing can prepare her for him, the strange and wonderful joining between two parts of a body that so rarely interact outside of this. Just this initial inch of slippery friction has her gasp, and her breaths become gulps; she feels heat, she feels that heat travel up her spine and throughout her body. But even for her there is discomfort to adjust to his size, and she draws a shuddering breath before exhaling out to the ceiling. Her one hand that's still upon him grips him tighter at the base than before, while the other rests on his waist, clutching him there. A moment passes, then another..., it's getting better. Easier. Heat spreads across her cheeks at how obviously lustful she's been for him.

She falls deeper into him, removing her hand from his length and placing it upon his side, her voice staggering into a loud moan, then a quiet exhale of his name. How does it feel so good already? Maybe because she's been waiting for this. Maybe because she loves him. Sweat begins to bead upon her chest, rolling down her breasts and abdomen as she strains to focus on fitting to him as pleasure continues to overcome her. Her body sinks over him even deeper. She's hardly halfway down on him, and her breaths are already labored, but the pleasure is beckoning her to continue. He feels so good, so filling, pulsing against her flesh, molding and pressing against all of her walls. She quivers with want again, and that motion gives way to slipping all the way down to the hilt.

Perhaps too far down, punctuated with a wet slap. Her body momentarily goes rigid, hands tightening upon his side, and then slack as he is felt completely sheathed. She gasps as her spine arches...

It's only two seconds' delay, trembling, breathing, before her hips swivel forward upon his. And then she begins to move, to rock, to lift up, then return, to rise then fall, to feel him not just in her, but slicking within her, against her, with her. It won't be long until her movements grow more urgent, powerful as she's guided by that pleasure to give it all back to him, to make this an experience that has him see stars-- not in an overwhelming sense, but to make it something loving and tailored to him. ]

[His breath is stuttered as she guides him inside herself, his heart beginning to thud like a drumbeat in his chest, eager in a similar fashion to when she'd had her lips on him. This is different, of course- her body folds around him to take him in, rubbing against his length not just with tongue but fully encircling it with muscle and the pulse of her arousal. It's slow, almost painfully so, and he grips tightly to the sheet beneath him to hold back from bucking his hips to find her core, managing to maintain enough sense to realize she's in control here. And... he likes that, actually. There's something powerfully delicious about consenting to her desire, letting her take him as she pleases. It's a different sort of abandoned agency to the times his body has been made to manifest or house power- from the gods, the ring, the Crystal. He chose this, to take her, to let her take him in.

He can't take his eyes off of her, his gaze drifting hungrily across her body- the way her thighs shiver, the way her breasts rise as she gasps, the way her mouth moves as she groans out her pleasure. The way his length disappears inside her, feeling more and more of that wet and welcoming heat with every inch. The more he sees it, the more he wants to see- he wants to vanish within her, wants them to move as one, he wants to hear her say his name like that over and over. His eyes are heavy, clouded by the heat of his own lust, and as she sinks down against him one of his hands releases the fabric and slides up her thigh, wandering across to her stomach, thumb brushing over just above where their bodies are joined. Lingering only a few moments, his fingers travel further upwards, following a trail of sweat to her breasts, brushing teasingly over pliant, tender flesh. He wants to touch and explore her body the way she'd done with his, seek out even more sensitive areas and leave her gasping.

And then she reaches the base, fully sinking down onto him with a sudden and unexpected rush, and his breath catches once more, releasing a guttural moan. His hips buck upwards a bit before he can help himself, hand dropping to curl against her side in an attempt to support her. The way her back arched makes him want to lurch upwards to follow her, to pull her back kiss along the curve of her bared neck. Maybe... maybe he will.

She's moving before he can think to do anything but murmur her name, and after the first few rolls and grinds she'd done on her own he shifts subtly to move with her as he releases another sharp gasp. His feet brace against the mattress, knees folding just enough to brush against her from behind, giving him leverage to thrust his hips up to meet her again, trying to adjust to her pace. His hands settle on her thighs, the muscles of his arms and chest flexing and glistening with sweat as he uses his strength to help lift her, releasing his upward push to let gravity and her own movement bring her back down that much harder, swallowing his length to the hilt once more, over and over. She's so wet that each thrust is smooth and seamlessly glides into the next, which only further fuels his thirst for more, more. She feels incredible against him, inside and out, and between the heat she's spreading through him and the way her beautiful body moves against his, he feels like he's going to go crazy. Instinctively he picks up the pace, his hips bucking more urgently into her as he chases that high she'd led him to before, this time pushing her up there with him- at least, he hopes. By the noises she's making, she sure looks as if she's enjoying it.]

[ She's enjoying it. She loves it. She loves him, and perhaps it's this last reason that she's putting as much effort into making this experience as exhausting and pleasurable as possible, wanting to work him as much as she wants to feel him herself.

Up, down, in and out, a swivel, a swerve. She begins to pant with every fall and every time his hips rise up to meet hers, an instinctual, unabashed motion that tells her that he's wanting this as much as her. She answers his efforts with work, rising up his length to the head and then plunging back to his base. She moans as her body shudders and sweat begins to dot her brow, attempting to find just the right position for the both of them, and there, there, she feels a powerful stroke within her just as his hands brush over her chest. She seizes, stuttering their rhythm to allow a gasp to pass out between her lips as her thighs tremble and press inward on either side of him.

One of Pyra's hands lifts off of his chest to grip the one upon her, and she presses her palm to her breast as if urging him to grasp her-- more, more, as she resumes, and builds, to the pace their hips were moving before.

It's becoming loud, heated with her moans by voice and each time they connect with each other, the creaking of the bed, the song of his breaths in return... and the pleasure is all but a deafening thrum within her ears. He's moving faster, and she-- likes that. She likes how she cannot think before he lifts up and into her, she likes how he's moving so quickly and deeply into her, that he is building up towards a completion, and he's working with her. It's such a different sensation to have him-- actually him-- within her that it encourages her even more. Pyra tilts herself just a margin forward, breathing out his name with a shallow gasp, allowing her movements more leverage and force upon him in tandem, providing more friction for them both, and allowing him to reach deeper into her, so that each time they part and join he might feel a slick coolness before being enveloped by her warmth entirely. She's close, she can feel herself just on the edge of that cliff, each thrust into her like another gust of wind pushing her towards it, causing her to teeter, to stumble, to have her toes curl as if she weren't brave enough to take that leap--

One more thrust from him and simultaneous fall from her, hips forcefully connecting fully to his, causes her to be thrown off that ledge entirely. She peaks with a soft cry of his name, constricting through the fierce set of trembles that overcome her body both outside and inside. Her hips rock forward and back upon him, wanton and despondent in her climax, massaging her lasting pleasure with refractory jerks. Lips parted for a few extra pants, she'll continue to move afterwards, should he need to follow right after. ]

[She's good. She's too good, overwhelming him with a sea of new sensations, every bump and grind coaxing him to go further, to move faster, to thrust deeper, instinctively longing to reach her deepest core. He follows her pace, challenging her at random with a particularly rough lift to startle a moan out of her, thirsting to hear that sound again and again. He wants to see her pleasure as much as he's seeking out his own. The thought of her enjoying the feel of him inside her, of taking joy in what he's doing to her- it's intoxicating.

When her hand encourages his own he moves it, supporting and massaging her breast, fondling the soft and pliant skin. He allows the noises she makes to guide him where to touch more, what areas to explore, as best as he's able to focus beyond the connection point between their bodies that threatens to drown him in the fog of endless pleasure. The other curls at her hip, dipping underneath and still working to support her lifts and drops.

He loves- he loves this. The brief chill of her absence followed by the warm enveloping heat as she takes him in again, the wet slap of skin on skin, sweat pooling in the concaves of her muscle and between her breasts. He loves the way she gasps and cries, the way she stumbles over his name, the weight of her body lingering on him when he catches her off guard with a thrust abrupt enough that she needs a second to regain her focus after the wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. There's a drumbeat in his head, an echo of more, more, more, and he's helpless to indulge it. He loves it. He loves her. And he knew that already, but still.

His pace slows when she drops down with a cry, her body arched and trembling, and he can recognize the signs of her climax. He rides it out with her, self-satisfied and eager to witness it properly. Last time, he'd had his face buried against her neck and had only seen the aftermath. This, though... she's radiant. A hot, beautiful mess, mouth open and chest heaving. He rather likes that look on her.

He's not far behind her at all, picking up the pace again as he regains his focus; a few more hard, grinding thrusts up into her body to catch up with her until he's at last releasing deep within her body with a strangled cry, his hands taut and trembling against her skin. He slumps back against the mattress, utterly spent and gasping like he'd just finished a long fight, sweaty and pulsing with lingering adrenaline. He can feel the wet mix of their sex against his length, and he shivers at the sensation, of being surrounded by her warmth and the evidence of what they'd just done. He'll miss it when they have to separate, so he makes no move to do so yet. Just for a moment, he'll indulge in this feeling, like being wrapped up in a cozy warm blanket after a shower.]

[ Another shudder overcomes her as he finishes within her, and she's left trembling upon his hips, panting hotly as her pleasure dwells. In addition to everything else about their joining, there's something equally satisfying at having the privilege's to see him so... indulgent and human, giving into his urges and instincts, his pants and moans, the strain in his muscles as he bucked into her, and seeing him so satisfied in the end. She had called him perfect not even minutes ago, and even like this, he still is.

She leans forward upon his body, finding that she remains sensitive to the feeling of him still inside, the collection of their essence between them, and the heat of his body. Her breasts press upon his chest, and she gives him tender kiss upon his sternum, then neck, then forehead, exhaling afterwards....

And then giggling softly against his neck, unable to help herself, her joy, her satisfaction of how wonderful it feels to be with him, to love him, to make love to him, and to hold him afterwards. She's still panting, catching her breath. It's probably awkward in some way to hug him even as they remain coupled and sweaty and sticky, but she does it anyway. This mess is theirs. This love is theirs. She has something like this... and it's beautiful. ] ....N-Noct.

[ Her nose bumps against his. She's practically shining with her affection, even as she uncouples herself from him. ]

Have I told you today that I love you?

[He smiles up at her, flushed and still trying to regain control over his breathing. He feels a little... wild, having done this, rebelling against the protocol and behaviour he'd been taught growing up, throwing aside the restrictions of the throne and whatever familial expectations had rested on his shoulders since the word "puberty" started to get thrown around in his vicinity. To hell with all of that. He just had sex, and it was great, and his mind can't muster a single ounce of regret for doing so. Not when he's still riding the high of his pleasure, not when she looks so content and is smiling at him. This was good, it was wonderful and life-changing and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if she asked it of him.

As she bends to rest against his body, sweaty skin sliding and sticking together in a way that makes his chest rumble with barely muffled laughter - they're so messy and gross, it really shouldn't feel this great and yet - he lifts his arms to wrap around her, fingers idly stroking across her back and through damp strands of her hair. If he can catch her cheek or lips, he'll kiss there too, though he won't drag her away from his neck when she's so comfy like this.]

Can't say. I'll count that one, then. [Another kiss, firm and smiling against her forehead.] Have I?

[Because he will, he will, and he does.]

[ Did he? She can hardly remember what the rest of the day had held for them, and she doesn't want to. She wants both herself and her mind to remain here and now. She wants to continue to gaze and hold and kiss him in return as the heat between them fizzles into pleasant embers of an eternal fire. His hand upon her back and the kiss upon her lips is met receptively, and afterwards she presses her forehead to his as her own hand combs through his hair.

She pulls away just enough so that she can catch the tail end of his laughter, and if there was anything in the world that could make her fall for him more, it's just that: seeing him so happy, so content, so willing to stay. It's like there's nothing weighing on him in this moment, and she likes that look on him.

She's blushing hard. Both from realizing that her affection for him is only ever growing and how they're still sticky and sweaty and absolutely, perfectly fine with sharing their bodies like this. For so long has she been questioning and doubting how she's taken a human form, how she shouldn't be like this, how this is not what she truly is, but to share herself with him, and for him to do the same in return, for her to bear this construct of a body and to be held by his arms.... it's invaluable. ]

I'll say it... every day now. [ Her whisper is soft, pledging, and affectionate. ] I'll say it every day, so you won't forget.

You can if you want, but I won't ever forget it. Trust me on that one.

[Every day... wouldn't that be nice. To hear someone say they loved him every day. It's a bit silly and certainly not necessary, but there's no denying how it feels, and he finally understands why she'd encouraged him to say it to his family for so long. If other people felt what he's experiencing right now, then no wonder. Does he make others feel like this? This dizzying, delighted
pleasure running end to end, not just from the sex but from the idea of being treasured in the heart of another person. It's incredible, intense. He's been capable of great power for years, but this warm thrum in his body, the soft pounding of his heart, the warmth between them, the love he can see in her eyes... it's a power anyone's capable of. People really are amazing.

He tucks her hair back and kisses her again, softly, chaste and sweet. He loves this woman, and even just saying the words in his head sends a rush of warmth right through him, a hunger for more of her presence, her words, her face.]

What about you, huh? Every day? I love you.

[ It's as if she's hearing it for the first time all over again, there words that leave her both faint and focused. ]

I think... I think I would like that.

[ She would like that a lot, truthfully, to hear it every day because neither of them know when they might vanish from this world at any moment. Of course, such words shouldn't be coupled with such a dismal thought, and that's why she feels there is another reason to say them to him: because.... she wants to. Because she-- a being who isn't human, who didn't start out as human, who shouldn't be human-- has this feeling in her heart, and she wants to express it. ] Both saying it, and having it said.

[ Architect, she wants to give him everything she can. She wants to be there for him, she wants to help him, she wants to watch him grow, she want to see him smile... She wants to make whatever he wants into a reality.

Her hand trails from the back of is head to the side of his cheek. ]

Noct, I feel so human while with you...

[It's such a little thing, such a nothing phrase, in the grant scheme of things. Three words that ought to leave his mouth with ease. And the look on her face... like it makes her so happy, practically glowing with it. She's even more beautiful when she smiles, and it just makes him want to kiss her again.

Every day. He'll make it happen. He'll have Umbra and Carbuncle remind him if he needs it. Every day.

Her last comment has him curious, tilting his head a bit at her to examine her expression. Human? Is that important to her?]

You may as well be, far as I'm concerned. Is... that what you want?

[He's always considered her a person, from the first day they'd shared a conversation. Knowing she had powers, could channel energy, all the way up to discovering her body was a construct around a crystal, that she carried another being within her, that she could conjure fire... none of that changed how he viewed her. Human isn't the word he had for her, but now he can't help wondering if it was a goal on her end.]

[ Ah, a want asked, and she responds openly and with a smile, as she holds him. ]

I... want to be someone, a human, who... can be with you, Noct. [ She already is with him, but it obviously means something more to say that she is human-- rather, she has humanity, personhood-- that means something more to her.

To be anything less would be unworthy. An unfeeling crystal, while perfect, does not have the fallibility that a human could ever have, the feelings they may experience, the capability to love... And she loves him so much. She loves the world they're in, the deities and the robots here, their crisis and their folly, for having brought them together. She loves his world too, his parents and his friends who have influenced him, his own deities or powers-that-be that created his world to eventually give rise to him; she loves it all... ]

I love.. being human enough to love. And--

Noct, [ She breathes his name again, tenderly and meaningfully, as she kisses him quietly upon the lips in response once. Pulling back, she looks into his eyes. ] I love this world... and I love your world, too, because you're in it.

[His smile widens a little as she answers - she said it! - though it is perhaps not the most idea of responses. She doesn't have to be human for her to be with him, as evidenced by them being together at all. The idea that she might've felt like she couldn't... that bothers him. What if she'd felt too anxious about that and hadn't reached out to him? Would he have eventually found the courage to reach first? What if she'd refused him? They could've lost out on so much.

He's glad it didn't go that route, but it's another thing to remember: that she too has fears and doubts about who and what she is, and he should take care to remind her of how little they matter when it comes to this.]

Pyra... I think I felt like this before I found out what you were. I didn't know it, but there was definitely something back then. [He remembers the party, poorly timed and drunk and sad, gazing back at her in the dim light under his jacket, imagining what it might feel like to kiss her.] But I felt it after, too. And now. You never had to be "human enough", you were enough just being you.

[He tugs her down for another soft kiss, like he can't stop, like each opportunity to do so is just as blessed as the one before.]

I love your world for making you. For letting us have you for a while, so we could meet like this. And for sharing Mythra with me, and Elysium. I'm really glad to know about you, and where you came from.

[She's human enough to feel him inside her, to move with him, to gasp and moan and find pleasure in the very human act of lovemaking. She can hold his hand, kiss him, speak words of kindness and care when he's feeling down. She never had to be human for any of that.]

[ Unfair again, she thinks. He has the same thoughts as her, but he had said them first. The kiss takes her before she can say anything, and she presses herself to him to indulge in it, molding her body to his and his love. Funny how she had thought of the world and he had spoken of it, but by his lips upon hers and his sturdy hands around her, the universe fades.

It's difficult not to be overcome by emotion, and this time, she doesn't stop it. When she pulls away from him, her eyes mist with joy.

"For letting us have you for a while, so we could meet like this."

To be loved, despite all that she'd done... To want to be with her in this world, despite neither of them having a future in their own. Here, they can have a place in this world together, they can have a future together, and they can travel that path... together.

Something powerful stirs within her, as if on the cusp of awakening. A piece of her, long forgotten; a name, her true name, on the tip of her tongue... ]

....Together.... We'll have the present and future.

[She's even pretty when she cries. How is that fair? His smile widens again, and he tilts to bump his forehead against hers, draping an arm over her side to keep her close and cozy against his body. The present and the future... that could mean a lot of things. The future could be tomorrow, or next week, or the whole new year that lies ahead of them. Either of them could vanish by morning. But now, right now, they can hold one another, kiss and smile and make love, find joy in this little thing they've managed to forge together. Maybe in their own worlds there's no future to be found, but that doesn't mean their lives have to be over. There's something here, and it's precious.

However long this lasts, he's grateful. He's happy. And he'll hold onto it - to her, them - as long as he's able.]

I'm with you, [He murmurs, his voice rich with a satisfied joy he's rarely able to muster, but one he's found more and more with her lately.] Here, and going forward. I won't let go.

[They'd both lost people precious to them. He'd watched Luna sink away from him, and when he'd reached for her she'd been too far for him to pull back. He still lives with that regret. It's... not a mistake he's going to let himself make again, not while it's in his power. Pyra's hand is right here, and he'll hold onto it no matter what she is beneath the skin.]

[ How strange that she feels so whole, when it is love, a human emotion, that should carve an even deeper imperfection into her crystal. Somehow this feels right, more right than she had ever felt as either Mythra or Pyra. A thought occurs to her: for a entity whose energy encompasses all, wouldn't that "all" also include love?

They'll both have to eventually, but they also both know and acknowledge it. Rather than see it as a reason to distance themselves from an inevitable pain, it's as if they've both chosen to accept what they have together in the moment. Or so, that is how she feels.

Because right here, right now, she wants to love him. She wants to be loved. She wants to kiss and to hold him, to tell him he's wonderful, to-- yes, even make this love to him, to make him smile, to protect him. (It's not fair that the world will lose him.) She wants to love him more, and that is the feeling she follows.

Settling in next to him, she smiles in response. ] Then... hold me tight. And I'll hold you.

[ Like this, should he be comfortable enough, they may at last sleep. ]

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