longwillows | ✨ somnia inbox

[The entire glitter effect is actually a bit delightful. And of course he doesn't mind at all catching someone dressing so casually. She relaxing at home and he's used to people dressing all manner of ways from the station anyway.]

[(And he certainly doesn't mind catching sight of a bit of leg.)]

[Her smile and saying she hardly recognized him makes him look pleased. This is a bit more like he prefers to look and he feels much more like himself all of a sudden.]

[As for mention of the catsuits, though, his ears blush a tiny bit.]

I don't know. I think a catsuit might leave you a bit overdressed and you look awfully cozy right now. If anything I'm the one that perhaps needs to pare down.

[He briefly wiggles his foot, where it's crossed over his other leg, as if jokingly insinuating he's the one in the wrong for not showing enough leg.]

Your place or mine? I should warn you, though I do have a private room, I'm afraid the dorms are a bit...communal in some of their common areas, if you'd prefer privacy. I like staying here just because it'd make it easy for someone to wake me if I'm needed in the Infirmary.

[He staked out a room that must have belonged to an RA so it was much more like a private room, with a private bath. But that means the kitchens and other areas entail some risk of running into others.]

[As her eyes are drawn down to the whimsical gesture of his foot, her answering smirk is devilish in its delight.] No need to dress down. I like unwrapping my presents.

[Even if the gaudiness of his chosen fashion is strange by current Earth standards, it doesn't register as unusual to her. She quite likes loud, striking clothing. And the more of it he wears, the more she gets to help him take off.

There's a tilt of her head, a flick of her gaze off to the side somewhere as she gives a thoughtful hm. Surveying something in physical space, it seems.] My bed's in rough shape at the moment. Your place is fine; the Hosts are the only audience I'm worried about.

[He smiles and ducks his head when she mentions unwrapping her presents, looking pleased.]

[Pleased enough his feathers are bristling slightly and his tail is flicking happily where it rests on the couch, despite his best efforts.]

Well, mine is very comfortable at the moment, though it could be warmer.

[He then gives her directions, to the building and then his room, and waits, reading a book to not spend the whole time squirming in anticipation.]

[A cheerful ring of laughter follows as she takes in the fluff of feathers and the flick of tail.] Don't worry—I'll help you warm it up.

[With that suggestive sign-off, she heads out to begin the trek. She doesn't change out of her pajamas, though she does pop on some tiny shorts and a huge holo-sequined coat before braving the streets.

Kalmiya is decent with directions, but the Murmur's preservation of maps and the sound of Julian's voice remain helpful guides on her way over. The trip is uncomfortable not despite the peace, but because of it; she breathes easier in the silent air, the phase and flow of her body as natural as a heartbeat while she navigates the reanimated remains of Manhattan. It is a deceptive peace. She doesn't care for it.

It shaves some travel time off, at least, with the ease of teleporting. She's polite enough to knock when she reaches his room, even if it's a silly knock, some rhythm she picked up from the Feywild.] Hello~ Tether delivery service!

[He opens the door and only just manages to avoid posing in the doorframe.]

[He thinks she looks cute. The holo-sequined coat would kill it in the Federation. And she looks so comfy. He misses comfy. He liked some of those cozy mornings with Leeta before they got up for their respective shifts.]

[Not that it ever would've worked out when she had feelings for Rom.]

[But fresh start. He's on the market again. There's a very pretty woman on his doorstep looking for something casual. (Sort of, considering the tether thing.)]

[He gives her a huge smile then wrinkles his nose as he jokes:]

Do I have to sign for anything?

[But despite the joke, he doesn't hesitate to gesture for her to come inside with a gentlemanly wave.]

[His room is fairly nice for something commandeered from a college dorm. More professor-like than student-like. Or at least maybe PHD-candidate-esque. He's tried to make it a bit less sophomoric, in what free time he's had to even worry about it since he's been so focused on setting up the Infirmary and hospital. There stacks of medical journals in a few places, including piled on a desk with some notebooks. There are books on shelves - nice books. He's "liberated" some leather bound copies in any places he's found them.]

[He stole some actually nice sheets and a relatively new set of comforters from a store in a deep blue. And there's a little couch there with coffee tables and a chipped tea set that looks like it's actually used, given the little caddy of scavenged teas.]

All jokes aside, you're much more than just a Tether. [He reaches out to snag her hands.] You've been very kind to me and I'm grateful for it, especially given some of the situations I came from.

I hope you might consider becoming friends after this.

[He doesn't have any major expectations. In the past he's been prone to falling into infatuation easily, but that's been tempered over time (most of the time). But she's been both kind and fun and he has friends in his life that've shown him how rewarding friendship can be with people like that.]

[His joke (and the very cute scrunch of his nose) earn him a jubilant laugh as Kalmiya follows the wave of his arm and sweeps into the room. Immediately she's captivated by the lived-in quality of the surroundings, all the personal touches that hint at the inhabitant of this dwelling. The medical texts look nightmarish, the tea set is darling, and the bed looks very comfy.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears the words of one of her Tethers months ago, giving her so much shit for her apathy towards her own living space.

She's still in the moment of taking it all in when he reaches for her, a grip which draws faint surprise but no resistance. She regards him with curious eyes and perked ears; a mild confusion touches the smile she gives in return.] Well, we're certainly not going to be strangers. Why wouldn't I want to be friends?

[Why is this such a common reaction to her affections??]

[He defaults to Starfleet officer cultural explanation mode because that's just pretty much how they operate. Part of it is a love of explaining different cultures. There's such enthusiasm in how he chatters away and he's utterly oblivious to the fact an info dump might dampen the mood.]

Oh, well, back home at least, for some people, they sometimes engage in casual sex just to blow off steam or share some mutual enjoyment, but with no expectations of even a casual platonic relationship after.

[He goes about making sure the door is locked. (His hallway is a bit remote compared to the other occupied places, but just in case someone comes knocking for a medical emergency. He really wants them to knock.)]

[Then he looks to make the place a bit more hospitable, turning up the heat on the space heater.]

We even have a whole pleasure planet with resorts where people go to hook up with lovers they bring and lovers they meet - sometimes with multiple partners at once. The local culture there puts heavy emphasis on enjoyment of casual sex and many of the locals are deeply attracted to aliens. If alien visitors are open to a sexual rite called jamaharon, they can display a totem called a horga'hn that advertises their receptiveness to any possible partners.

[He's not sure why any others have wanted to clarify wanting friendship from her but in his case, his society is so sexually liberated and quite frankly openly horny that sex can be completely divorced from anything approaching even platonic connection.]

So it's usually prudent to let someone know you like their personality and also want a friendship, to have the same expectations. I know you offered the Tether but someone accepting it could accept it based on need, not because they've enjoyed talking to you.

And I've enjoyed talking to you.

[He holds out a hand.]

Here, let me take your coat - which is very striking, by the way.

[Fortunately for Julian, Kalmiya has the insatiable curiosity of someone cut off from the rest of the world for the better part of two decades. She watches for only a moment as he bustles around (did he turn the heat up? Very generous,) though soon finds her gaze pulled back to the collection that surrounds her. However, while she regards the nice leatherbound books, her big fox ears are rotated towards Julian, clearly indicating how intently she's listening.

By the time he's mostly through his explanation, though, she's turned back to him with a furrow in her brow and a smile settled somewhere comfortably between amusement and mischief. With intrigued sincerity,] That sounds amazing. Communities like that in my world are very small; there's no entire society of the sort that I know of.

[Permissively, she shrugs her coat off into his waiting grasp, humming in appreciation of his compliment. When she straightens up, there is a pointed square to her shoulders, the posture of someone who's very accustomed to standing much taller than her physical stature allows. The mischief in her expression has evolved into good-natured challenge.] I do appreciate the clarity of your intentions. But please don't misunderstand the kindness I've extended. I would never offer something like this to someone who didn't enjoy my company.

I don't mind helping to satisfy a need, but I will not be used.

Good.

[Self-respect is important. And he certainly wouldn't want to be on the other end of someone offering something like this out of pity.]

[Mutual enjoyment of each other's company, her feeling that he values her company, that's different.]

[With her coat hung on a little hook near the door, he turns to her, walking over. He slips his arms around her waist, a gentle smile curving his lips.]

I shall endeavor to be worthy your time.

[As his arms encircle her waist, her confidence softens, though it doesn't by any means ebb. Effortlessly she reaches up to settle her own arms over his shoulders and catches a lock of his hair in the idle twirl of her index finger.] No need to try too hard. Respect tends to speak for itself.

[The curl of her smile is playful as she tucks herself a little closer to him. The trio of tails at her back sway with her climbing enthusiasm.] So, any preferences? I'm quite flexible.

[Metaphorically and literally, if the particular lilt of her voice is anything to go by.]

[His own tail was now flicking around wildly.]

As am I. [On both counts, honestly. The Augmented physique he'd started with was flexible and the new changes hadn't really countered that. He'd nearly been a pro athlete at one point.] I've...experimented. Other species back home have all kinds of practices.

[He tended to bend more towards their preferences, since some of it was heavily cultural. Humans were curious. It often entailed being flexible and trying something.]

But the most important thing is I usually like to focus my attentions on my partner for a while first. I find it very satisfying.

[And he had very good endurance, so it meant a long time of letting anticipation build without risk of losing control too soon.]

I'm very good with my tongue. And my hands.

[A bubble of laughter both surprised and delighted answers his boasting. So confident; she's eager to find out whether it's warranted. (Would he be willing to share some stories of those other species? Pillow talk, maybe.)

Joyously,] Well, far be it from me to deny you that satisfaction! I'll try to be good while you work.

[For some measure of "good." Staying still and keeping her hands to herself are not her strong suits in circumstances such as this, evidenced by the way her hands are already beginning to wander curiously along the firm slope of his shoulders.]

[He doesn't find the wandering hands to be a problem at all. He only moves more into her personal space, pressing soft kisses to her lips. His hands play with the hem of her sweater, fingers splaying out against the skin underneath, starting to tease their way upward.]

[The kisses are slow and teasing at first, then more exploratory, his tongue dancing between her lips, first slowly flicking against the tip of her tongue, then rolling. There's an obvious self-control there, a slow dance that can't happen if you're getting quick and sloppy.]

[Up close, there's the smell of musk and sandalwood. (He clearly takes pains to be pleasant for whoever he's with and he was worried what he might smell like with this new form.)]

[As one hand explores under the hem of her shirt the other is more affectionate, reaching up to cradle a cheek, his thumb gently caressing her face. He breaks off the kissing to only add to this open affection, kissing down along the line of her jaw, pressing hot kisses to her neck, the hand under her shirt reaching up to the small of her back to pull her even more closely to him.]

[There are hints of a tether already, just from the friendly moments they've had, just the edges of one that could be forming, strengthened by what they're doing. They don't need to fully engage in the act for him to already be feeling a fondness for her. When he's slept with someone that wasn't a stranger, there's always been that kind of warmth. Because he feels remote and distant enough from people for any form of connection to hold something warm.]

[Those are the first things to leak through. The first: a warmth and gentle feeling for her, a simple admiration for someone that he's getting a sense is a mix of sweetness and steel. Nothing too intense, nothing too fixated, just an earnest little bit of exuberance, a part of him going "oh, she seems rather brilliant, doesn't she? And lucky me, she wants to have some fun with me!" It's very playful.]

[The second thing through: something more quietly lonely underneath. A part of him that holds moments like this as precious, even if they don't last - knowing that they usually don't. Gathers them all together in a pile with other moments of love and connection from friends and loved ones, presses the entire pile close to a heart deeply wounded by something, and tells himself people wanting to be close in any way, means he's human.]

[But where others want to take, where they covet, his instinct is to give and to earn time and affection, as if it isn't simply warranted by existing. To give and give and give: Time. Care. Energy. Patience. Understanding. Pleasure.]

Edited 2026-02-25 08:56 (UTC)

[Though not overeager, she is a very responsive partner, indulging joyfully in each exploratory kiss and humming with pleased approval when he begins to work his way down her neck. The tilt of her head is one of offering, baring more skin beneath her jaw as he prompts a giggle with the way he tugs her more flush to him.

The scent at her neck, in contrast to his cologne, is floral and sweet, desert jasmine and sun-ripened guava. In fact, it verges on unnaturally sweet—and moves even further in that direction as Julian proceeds, nearly cloying in the way that overripe fruit and flora are in the scant days before decay. There's a note of something subtler within, as well: identifiable to Julian (and only Julian) as something he, personally, would be drawn to, whatever that may be.

In much the same way that dropping in on her over the Murmur did not immediately yield a clear picture, Kalmiya's end of the burgeoning tether doesn't quite give everything away. Her excitement and fondness are quite clear, a warmth that is offered with both open mind and judicious heart. Beyond that, though, her psyche takes the shape of an overgrown and twilit forest, an untamed wildwood of possibility—as likely to contain wonder as it is danger. The rich and complicated density of someone who has had to intimately learn their own mind, and—more importantly—how to hide it from others.

There is the sense of life stirring, a thoughtful chorus of crickets and rustle of branches. Curious, interested. Watchful, but not exactly on guard; no more than any forest creature going about their usual business. Allowing this new presence past the tree line, where the setting sun still lights the way. Kalmiya loves easily, loves freely and without fear—

—but any deeper into the woods, detail vanishes in the dark density of the thicket. Trust is something she is much, much more careful with.

Regardless, there is enough that she has welcomed this affection, this connection. And what she sees, what she feels at his end of the tether—there is the sense that it absorbs into the loam of the woods as rainwater does, as protected by the mysterious terrain as any of her own secrets.

There is a peculiar softness to her skin as the warmth of his hand impresses upon her back, a receptiveness that edges just beyond the natural give of fat and flesh. As if her physical form is adjusting to the shape of his, a subtle malleability that enables her to press herself even closer without any awkwardness to the fit. A satisfied sigh results when he reaches the juncture of neck and shoulder, her hands squeezing encouragingly where they're venturing just above the plane of his back. The rise onto the balls of her feet is both enthusiastic and considerate of their height difference. She does seem to like the tall ones, doesn't she?]

[It's all too much. It's been so long. Her body is so soft and yielding. And there's something about her smell that's peculiar. There's the floral, and a touch of something that isn't quite desert sage: the smell of burning bateret leaves, like they burned every year on the station during the Bajoran Gratitude Festival.]

[It's a smell of home. It puts him at ease and reminds him he's still in his own skin, enjoying the touch of someone beautiful like he often has before, even if his skin has changed.]

[This may as well be his quarters. This may as well be someone lovely who met his eyes from across the way at Quark's.]

[Feeling more comfortable in his own skin, his wandering hands reach down to grab her arse. He's been admiring that part of her body, and her beautiful thick thighs.]

Oh, wow. [It just pops out. He just goes and says it because she's going to feel his appreciation through the link anyway.]

[His hands slide up her sides, to finally liberate her of that sweater, cute though it may be. She'll feel the lust, of course, the sudden, consuming need to see as much bare skin as possible. But also something joyful too.]

[The snort of laughter that escapes her is echoed in the sound of small bells across the growing tether, the chime of a pure and joyful amusement at his reaction to her plush posterior (and at the squeeze itself, just a bit.)] You know, I get that a lot!

[Which is not to say it's any less pleasing to hear. It feels good to be wanted.

An echo of appreciation answers his, simple satisfaction with urgency bleeding in at the edges as his hands catch the hem of her sweater. Though she didn't dress up, exactly, it seems there was at least one more addition to her ensemble besides the coat and shorts. Unless she's the type to lounge around in nice bras.

(Sometimes. But usually not.)

She helpfully lifts her arms above her head to facilitate the removal of her cozy sweater. And then immediately forgets its existence, judging by the way she tugs herself right back against Julian once she's been freed of the garment, like some terrible burden has just been lifted from her shoulders. She said she'd be good, but she can't help but indulge a little in the scent at the crook of his neck, cologne and whatever shaving products he used filling her senses as she nuzzles in.]

[There's a low rumble of appreciation in his throat, more animal than usual, at the sight of her lingerie - and her body. Julian had been charmed heavily on personality alone but woofta.]

[He hands start to roam more aggressively, one of them cupping her breast, thumb running over the lacy fabric of her bra, the other roaming up and down her side.]

[He presses kisses along the line of her jaw, then nibbles at her neck, starting to maneuver them closer to the bed.]

Tell me: anything I should avoid? And do you like to have your tails and ears touched?

[He figures some people might find the changes to their bodies too new to enjoy it.]

[The hand at her side reaches along her back and unhooks her bra one-handed with almost no effort. It's a mix of, well, experience, and also the fact that having the dexterity of a surgeon is handy.]

[A lash of heat surges at the base of her spine at the subharmonic sound of his appreciation. It's followed quickly by a self-satisfied chuckle, something that smooths out into an encouraging hum as his hands explore and find themselves in bolder places. The nip of teeth at her neck draws a shiver from her spine, easily felt as she lets him lead her towards the bed.

The question isn't answered immediately, as first she has to realize it was asked, and then she actually has to think about it, a process made obvious by the focused squint of her eyes.] Uh...

[What doesn't she like? This is very difficult to think about while being summarily freed from her bra, but after a beat of consideration, she continues with some humor.] I know we've got animal traits or whatever now, but I'd rather not talk about mating, I suppose.

[Otherwise, though...] You can touch whatever you want, and try whatever else you'd like. I'm adventurous and sturdy!

[She probably doesn't need to wink as she's backed up against the edge of the mattress, but it's in her tone of voice as much as her cheeky expression.]

[He briefly draws back slightly but only to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. Rather than along the center of his shirt, they line the side, making the whole front of the shirt more of a chest flap. He's found any form of button-down in general much easier to get over the wings, with carefully tailored holes in the back. Pullover shirts are a nightmare.]

[That means she gets to see his briefly horrified and disgusted look at mention of mating, making it clear that'd be an extreme turn off on his end too.]

Oh dear. I'd never dream of it. I much prefer emphasis on recreation over the prospect of procreation.

[Even just the mental prospect of having children is one of his nightmares. Ew.]

Speaking of which, I have implants that should prevent any...surprises.

[He manages to get the shirt off, over his wings, revealing a body that's very lean and beanpole skinny but fit. What is there is all lean muscle. And a contrasting expanse of scales and brown skin and short golden fur. It's slightly mismatched and in patches, with most of his lower abdomen covered in snake skin. But even that's not just one color; there are bands of brown and tan. Soft downy feathers line his fore-arms.]

[He tries his best to ignore his self-consciousness over the changes.]

[And he smiles at her, taking in the sight of her, breath catching in his chest and warmth building low in his stomach, his cock well past twitching to attention and already hard.]

You look like a Renaissance painting.

[Be it fur or feathers, Kalmiya doesn't mind; she watches with hungry interest as he deftly pops open the buttons of his shirt, only distracted momentarily by her own burst of laughter at his answering disgust. Though—] Oh!

[Right, that whole procreation thing usually is an issue. Breezily,] I'm pretty certain we can't anyway. [Actually something she had been meaning to bring up to him, as the medical implications of whatever stymied the reproductive capabilities of Vessels was probably fascinating. And worth professional investigation. She doesn't want babies, but it is strange that they can't have them while the Hosts seemingly can.

Regardless, that's a matter for Doctor Bashir. For the moment, all her focus is on Julian. There's something a little nostalgic, a little homesick, about seeing those golden-blonde stripes of fur against the warm brown of his skin, but it dissipates as her eyes find the smooth scales at his abdomen and track the trail of them down to his waistband. The urge to tug his pants down is arrested only by his breathless compliment (wherein it takes her an extra beat to register the Earth term Renaissance.)]

You think? [Jubilant, curious. And a little silly, as she lifts the back of her wrist to her forehead and gives an exaggerated swoon, like one might find from some beautifully-posed subject of historical art. She grins brightly.] I'm better than a painting, though.

[The way she straightens up from her dramatic pose is slow, smooth, as tempting as the serpent so often depicted in art of that age. A tilt of the head, a roll of the shoulders, as she steals a curious brush of fingertips over one of his pectorals. Her voice dips low when she leans closer, from playful to sensuous in a matter of seconds.] Since you aren't supposed to touch paintings.

[Every one of her touches is electric, especially with the first stirrings of a Tether, driving even more heat downwards. But he's patient. He still hasn't even bothered with his own trousers yet.]

[Then she drops the line, a picture of temptation, and he decides...okay, he isn't that patient. The trousers still stay on but after grinning at her joke, he practically throws himself at her, kisses hungry, tongue slipping past her lips to flick lightly against her tongue - an advertisement of his future intentions for other parts of her body. He keeps pressing kisses, moving down down down, mouth and hands exploring.]

[He presses full, wet kisses to her breasts, briefly sucking on the skin and flicking his tongue against each of her nipples, kisses his way down a soft stomach until he has to drop to his knees. Peppers more wet kisses against thick thighs.]

[His fingers reach up under the hem of her panties, briefly enjoying the warmth of the skin underneath before he starts to pull them down, fingers of one hand briefly carding through the fur of one of her tails as he slips them past.]

[After a brief nip to a hip, careful not to break skin with his fangs, he wraps both his arms around her legs, pulling her close, pressing some kisses into the soft folds of her, flicking his tongue, once, twice, three times. Not starting anything yet, though.]

[Just another promise.]

[Then he leans back, looking up at her like she's an absolute vision, and nods towards the bed.]

Sit down. Let me take care of you. [A pause.] But could you avoid lying back? I'd like to see your face.

[It's only partly for selfish reasons. The other reason is the Tether isn't strong enough yet, and might not give him enough to work with, when it comes to chasing her pleasure. He tries to be as observant as possible to know when to adjust his tactics.]

[Her satisfied laugh is muffled at first by his fervent kisses, but the weaving thread between them trembles gleefully, small bells and motes of light beckoning from the forest within. She watches as he works his way down her chest, humming appreciatively at the flick of his tongue, shoulders pulling back to arch her body ever so slightly closer to him, more than receptive to his attention.

Though he takes great care not to abrade her skin, the hint of teeth seems to be more enticing to her than dangerous, eliciting a shiver and a hint of sound on the exhale that follows. Even as he descends, she holds onto him; shoulders, then arms, then the nape of his neck, and finally his hair as he pulls her close and stops between her legs.

The backwards tip of her chin exposes the length of her neck as his tongue teases feather-light from his exploration. Another sigh—deeper, more indulgent—accompanies the reflexive curl of her digits, toes and fingers both tensing in anticipation. When she lifts her head once more, she finds he's already looking at her. There's a wonder in his eyes that's hard to wrap her head around, particularly in this dreamy, wanting state.

Let me take care of you. An undertow of hesitation, slowing the current of lust that rushes atop it, for reasons she cares naught for in this moment. They are far less important than this beat of warm consideration he gives her, where the desirous haze in her eyes clears up just enough to complement the mirthful quirk of her smile.] No promises, if your talents are as you've said. But I'll give it my best.

[That said, she rolls first along the balls and then the heels of her feet until her weight shifts down and back towards the bed. With a soft, downy thmp, she lands on the mattress, letting go of Julian for the moment until he settles in. Which should be fairly easy with the generous part of her legs, even taking the width of her thighs into account.

If she has any question as to why he wants to be able to look at her while he works, she doesn't voice it. She is a vision, after all. Who wouldn't want a look?]

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cw: beep beep definitely in the nsfw now

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