kalmiya "worm off the string" longwillow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
longwillows) wrote2025-06-30 09:05 am
longwillows) wrote2025-06-30 09:05 amEntry tags:
✨ somnia inbox
reach out?
longwillows) wrote2025-06-30 09:05 am
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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?]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
cw: beep beep definitely in the nsfw now
[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.]
BEEP BEEP THIS BUS DON'T STOP
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?]