[ He won't argue with that, though he finds the practicality of some traditions to be flimsy, at best, and worse than useless, at worst. Still, he's nowhere near close enough to "the truth" of the Golden Peacock to retort with any substantial argument, so it's easier to let the doubt roll off his back. For the most part. What he can't restrain is a quiet exhale—almost a scoff, if he were any more forceful with it. It's hard enough to believe that a hotel suffering from terminal cumbrain offers enough value to the multiverse that anyone would bother to sustain it.
But even if he'd wanted to say anything, perhaps it would've been cut short. They're this far now—it's not like her intentions are subtle, and any refusal he could mount has been nonexistent. Then it's no shock that she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, over the vertical scar that runs across them, quick and chaste, too brief for him to think about responding before she pulls away. There's amusement when he huffs, the corner of his lips quirked into a smirk. ]
I thought I was supposed to be testing your drug. The experiment isn't gonna hold up if you interfere.
[ He wouldn't have a problem pitching her off his lap if he were so committed to the integrity of the test, but verbal is as far as his opposition gets. At least it can't be questioned that the aphrodisiac is doing its job. ]
[As if seeking to answer her own question, Rin rolls her hips against him. Purposefully indulging in the friction between them as she drags herself against the evidence of his interest. However she quickly dismounts. Pulling herself off his lap and settling beside him once more to make sure the 'medicine' is completely prepared for him to take.
It's a shame to have to retreat, but even if her heart beats a little faster she knows they've already agreed to swap. The thrill she seeks is sure to come in time.]
[ For her efforts, Tohsaka earns a deep inhale pulled through his nose. It's not at the point of painful, but it's uncomfortable nevertheless, the quick pressure against his groin before she pulls off completely, leaving him now cold and weightless. Mostly, it's just annoying, and the twist in his lips conveys it; expected as this outcome was, given their little experiment, he remains liable to getting huffy at an instance of teasing.
But ultimately, he's agreed to come for a specific purpose, so he doesn't fight it. He scoots forward on the couch and leans in, taking the glass between four fingers, pinky lifted yet again. For as fussy as the gesture seems, he doesn't flinch at the murky appearance of the mixture; he swirls it around once, twice, then raises it to his lips and throws it back as though it were a beer he was meant to chug.
The medicine is bitter. The taste of it is harsh going down his tongue, so in that sense, probably better to have it done quickly. His throat bobs with the large gulps he takes, draining the glass clean within a couple of swallows. When it clatters back onto the coffee table, there's only a thin rim of powder left coating the bottom edge. Though Tomura doesn't complain verbally, he sticks his tongue out as a signal of distaste. He's mostly forgotten about the print of a heart now stamped onto it, just red enough to stand out against the flesh; currently, he's just more concerned that his mouth feels gritty. ]
[It makes her stomach flip, knowing that even just seeing his tongue at this point is getting her pulse to quicken. Frustrated at how susceptible she is, but unable to fight it. After all, that's the point. Isn't it? She purposefully took some of that airy frosting off his face so she'd be ready. But it was only a little bit, so why is she so captivated by his tongue?
Maybe it's the way his suit mark catches her eye, or the soft pink contrasting against the rough features of his face? Rin's hands rest on her lap, and her fingers curl and grip at the fabric of her skirt to keep herself from ruining the illusion of patience.]
Perhaps... I should grind the powder finer next time.
[ Truthfully, to be interacting neutrally with so many new people, forced to make connections, is a relative oddity to him. His upbringing with All For One had been secluded, the pawns turned over to his hands relegated firmly behind the lines of division and hierarchy (at least as much of a hierarchy as an unleashed mob could be said to have). His steadiest companions—the ones that lasted more than a month or so—were only a handful. Used to fleeting connections, or ones that have already grown familiar, he doesn't have the habit of observing people too closely. Rin could be glad that her observation and her tension go unnoticed. ]
It's fine.
[ He says this, but his nose wrinkles. He takes the glass and reaches for the water jug for a refill. ]
It's medicine.
[ It's supposed to be unpleasant. And even if it weren't, the pleasantry wouldn't change the effectiveness, the intended purpose of the drug. They weren't children anymore, needing the bitterness to be tempered by the syrupy sweet; they couldn't expect for every hardship to be cushioned, couldn't expect to get far in life by taking a smooth path. If the medicine works just as well in its current form, why go out of the way?
If it works. He washes down the remaining grit in his mouth, then slouches back on the couch to wait. ]
[Will she be able to last that long? Even if Tomura isn't "conventionally" attractive, she still finds herself drawn to him. Hungry for his warmth, and dying to explore his skin. It may be rough, riddled with scar tissue, and some parts may look worn like untreated leather. Yet he still appeals to her. Tomura reminds her of a large predator — strong muscle and probably the intent to back it up, but lazy. Unmoved and unbothered by anyone who isn't a current meal or threat to his territory.
It makes a small girl like her want to push him down and keep him that way. Carefully underneath her thumb like a collared beast. It would be a false sense of triumph and security to be sure, but it would satiate her need.]
A minute, [ he repeats. Sure, not that painful. He rolls his head, then sits back to wait, arms crossed, one leg thrown over the other. His eyes close, and he doesn't say anything, instead attentive to the functions of his body, waiting for a sign that the anaphrodisiac is taking effect. The baseline seems the same as his condition before he ingested the medicine: he feels warmer than usual, and certain parts of his body feel hypersensitive, like they're simply waiting for a touch.
He gives it maybe two minutes before he speaks up. ]
Am I supposed to feel it working by now?
[ His tone comes out tight and gruff, and his posture—initially patient and waiting—reflects the new attitude. While he hasn't changed the way he's sitting at all, his fists are now clenched and a tension runs through his legs—wholly unlike someone who's found relief in her cure. ]
Ideally, [she responds as a defeated sigh that falls from her lips.]
Better luck next time, I guess. I should make it more potent.
[Tohsaka reaches out to him. Her soft hand resting on one of his balled fists. Her fingers brush against the lines of his knuckles and feel at the tension he holds in himself. She'll make the first move, she'll start advancing. This is her responsibility, and it would be cruel of Rin to make him stew in it any longer than necessary.
After all, she's warm too. Her blood running hot in her veins as she dares not take her eyes off him. Blue gaze fixes on the way his body is tight. Strong with defined muscle and visible strength. She wants to feel it, too — that strength. To know what she's up against and to contemplate the ways she might subdue him should they ever disagree on something worth applying strength over.
Would most conventional girls cringe at him and shy away? Probably, but she's intrigued. Like a cat whose curiosity gets the best of them.]
Do you want a kiss, or would you rather I speed this up?
[ That most "conventional girls" would shy away from him is something he suspects, and he chalks it up to that for why he lacks cards from women. Whether it's a true or false assumption doesn't concern him much—while he doesn't often reject advances, he doesn't involve himself on the side of seduction and courtship, finding only distaste in the ritual of trying to make oneself appealing to others. If they happened to be the right people to play the game, then the time might eventually come around—like now.
He registers the brush of her fingers against his hands, though he doesn't unfurl to receive her just yet. The repression of arousal leaves him tensed and avoidant, his attention devoted to restraint like the dams holding back a flood. He sucks in a breath through his nose. ]
You didn't do it on purpose, did ya?
[ He sounds neutral, if gruff in his distraction: it might be half a joke, half suspicion. Maybe Tohsaka would be the type to try something like that, but even if it were intentional, he wouldn't find himself overly bothered. Such is life in the Golden Peacock, playing their hedonist game. And since the answer doesn't truly matter, he finally moves, a twist of his wrists ending with hers held firmly in his grasp. His index remains lifted on his right hand—the side which still has that finger—as though in habit, despite the casual certainty in his strength. ]
Get on with it, then.
[ There's a strain to the thin curl of his lips—the challenge it should bear wavers, thanks to the sense of urgency. No qualms with letting his partner lead, as long as the stakes aren't high. Perhaps it might telegraph reservation and modesty in some, but for him, Tohsaka's earlier read would be correct—the kind of nonchalance yielded by a particular mix of laziness and unwavering self-assurance. ]
I think if I wanted to just sleep with you, I probably could have found an easier way.
[Tohsaka knows she's not ugly. Her petite body has its assets even if she's a bit of a disappointment up top. Her image wasn't crafted for a place like this — instead she grew up modest and alluring. Something ideal and up on a pedestal without being too raunchy or base. She was desirable in the way one might want to covet a jewel rather than lusted after like one might crave an unhealthy food. She's quite certain if he's willing then she could have just asked.
Only on her end she cannot just ask. Everything must be a game or a challenge or some kind of transaction. The trade of one thing for another. In a contest of mental gymnastics, Rin would probably be considered an Olympian.]
You know, that's an awfully accusatory thing to say to someone who finds it easy to work with you.
[Hell, maybe in time she'll be able to say she enjoys working with him. As is, he has her wrist firmly in the grip of his hand. It makes Rin uses her free one to hold his cheek and guide his face. Angling him in a way she can easily lean in and press a kiss just off from his lips. The small beauty mark just above his jaw serves as a target of her physical advance so she can slowly pepper her way to the corner of Shigaraki's mouth.
Meanwhile her free hand falls from his face (because she's allowing him to keep the wrist he had claimed) and Rin reaches down to his waistband. Gentle fingers exploring what obstacles she may have to tackle before they're able to free him from the tension straining Tomura's muscles.]
[ "Easier," huh? It's highly possible. Not that Tomura is particularly easy pickings, but sex here is nothing more than a transaction, a card swap, one more tic mark for a ticket home. Perhaps they're alike, in that sense: a willing party is a willing party. Do taste and preference even really matter, in a place like this? There's no point in denying it, when he's agreed to play the resort's game their way—for now. ]
Just checking—
[ His mild response to her offense, not that it seems very deep-seated at all. He wouldn't have particularly cared, in any case; call it a fucked up sense of adaptation, but getting dosed feels par of the course for life here, regardless of how it might be taken elsewhere. The result is the same anyway: that familiar pull of arousal, drawing him toward the warm body leaning in, cascading perfumed fragrance.
Though she hadn't asked for it, she kisses him anyway. Surprising. In contrast to her smooth, fair skin, she would find his lips scarred and chapped—not that it's ever stopped him before, nor certain partners of his. He simply wouldn't have expected it to come from the lady of the house. Still somewhat at a loss (and no doubt making some assumptions as to how a woman would prefer to fuck), he lets her take the lead, to take the kiss as far as she wants. It's soft, a little tentative for his preference in this state, the impatience simmering below his skin finding the touch at his waistband more welcome. In turn, Tohsaka would find little impediment in her way, just a simple pair of drawstring sweatpants and plain briefs beneath that. He'll release her wrist to make it easier on her, and his hands will instead find purchase on her hips—not yet pulling, but the grip of his fingers firm and tense, the one current point of contact where he can externalize some of the building pressure within his body. ]
[The silent intensity in how he grips her is not lost in Rin. The way his fingers curl into the fabric and through it her flesh — he's strained. Holding back and eager for something more, even if his voice and expression don't quite match the building need his body presents.
Rin bites at his bottom lip — rolls the chapped skin between her teeth before taking him suddenly. Locked briefly, passionately, as she swipes a taste and small moment of stolen time exploring his mouth. After that sudden confirmation of her own interest, Rin pulls away. Just enough so that her hands can ease away his bottoms to leave him bare assed on her couch. Just enough so that she can shed any remaining clothes on herself other than the miniskirt fluttering about the tops of her thighs.]
Just relax. I said I'd take care of it.
[Before advancing any further her eyes fall to his lap. Gauging how ready he is, because Tohsaka already knows she can probably "get right to it" with just a little bit more effort. The heat and yearning pool in her gut just aching to be quenched. Meanwhile she shifts her weight — preparing herself to mount him properly soon.]
[ Being taken in for a proper kiss isn't what he expected, but it's no unpleasant surprise: the sudden nip of her teeth, the heat of her lips and tongue. It lasts only for a brief moment, a passionate flare, before she withdraws, denying him the opportunity to properly respond. It takes considerable willpower not to pursue her, though the temptation is at least tempered by a sense of pride and an uncertainty in the preferred approach to engage her. It helps that the distance is clearly necessary and calculated, as Tohsaka strips out of her clothing, leaving only the skirt. Drawn by curiosity and arousal, Tomura's eyes trace the contours of skin and muscle exposed: the modest swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, softer and more delicate than any other form he's held thus far, but plenty enticing in its own respect.
He exhales harshly through his nose, before raising his hips and assisting her in getting his pants off. Then he's left with his bottom half bare, uncovering a dusting of white hair and his erection, hard and ready, already spurred to full interest with the aid of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins. Again, with some willpower, he sinks back into the couch, legs spread, unashamed of his exposure. He'll keep his hands to himself for now, while he waits to see what she has planned, letting one arm fall over the chair back while the other drops to his side. It's only his eyes that don't rest, as they rake over her body and follow her movements, before finally landing on her face. ]
Then show me.
[ It's a command, to match her own suggestions. Tomura's not the type to beg, so the impatience manifests as challenge instead, to goad her on rather than to ask her for release. ]
[The command encourages her advance. She's eager and ready to draw him to completion, and while she doesn't thing she can promise anything special or memorable... Rin is certain she can at least "do the job". One hand rests on his shoulder for balancce while the other wraps around the shaft of his cock. Soft hands feeling the heat of Tomura's interest as she holds him steady to lower herself. Rin's hiked up skirt doesn't give him much to watch — leaving plenty to surprise and imagination until his tip brushes against the soft, hairless skin of her slit.
Hair traps scent, after all, as so she always makes certain she's as smooth as possible. He'll feel the way she changes the angle of her hips so that his tip glides along her folds. Picking up the slick fluid that serves as evidence of her own arousal. After giving him a few passes, Rin aims Tomura's erection at her core, and begins to lower herself down so that he sinks into her.]
Just don't expect anything too special.
[It takes her a few moments to adjust having him inside her, but after the walls of her cunt relax around his dick Rin begins to ride him. The hand that kept his cock steady now takes hold of his other shoulder as she uses the strength in her legs and abs to find herself a steady rhythm. Rin expects nothing of him — but not as an insult! The failure of her mixture is not a burden he should have to bear, so Rin intends to let him luxuriate.]
Unless you're the kind of guy who likes to make requests?
[If not, well... she'll make sure to explore him a little more once she finds a solid pace.]
[ It might all be going a bit quick, but the aphrodisiac has sped things up quite a bit on his end. He's hard and flushed already, reactive to touch, a wave of tension traveling through his legs and hips as her fingers wrap around his length. He doesn't quite move into her grasp—but the thought, the temptation, is there. Instead, he releases an impatient breath, his jaw clenching—and then his hands do too, curling into fists as she guides him beneath her and presses him into her hot folds.
She's wet, the slickness easing the glide of his tip against her slit, setting his already-sensitive nerves alight. With a breath hissed through clenched teeth, his hands come up to her once more, slipping under her skirt and gripping her thighs; she'll feel the strange points of his two remaining digits on his maimed left hand, but even his uninjured right grasps at her with only four fingers, the middle having been lifted away out of long-impressed habit. There's enough bruising force between them, nevertheless, and the bite of his nails, almost-but-not-quite dragging her down as she sinks over his cock, enveloping him in wet heat that makes his blood hum.
He doesn't rush her while she presumably adjusts (do girls need that?), but his hips shift again, restless and impatient. It's more so because he doesn't know what to expect that he makes no moves of his own—between his inexperience with women and being on this end of the act, it's not so easy to predict what to actually do to get the most out of this position. What doesn't currently really factor in is his partner's enjoyment of the act; unfortunately, he just isn't yet at the point of caring very much how this experience plays out for Rin.
So, even if she asks that, there isn't a good reply for him to give. Just a huffed breath in amusement, before her movements cue him to the option of pushing a little more. His grip on her thighs tightens briefly as he rolls his hips into her momentum; though this may be a relative unknown to him, the instinctual desire to chase a pace that's harder and rougher isn't lost on him, further incited by the aphro coursing through his body. The steady rhythm she builds only lasts for a bit; once he's settled with the knowledge that Tohsaka isn't voicing any complaints, that the glide of his length against her walls meets with no resistance, his hands slip up to grip her ass and anchor her position before he pistons his hips into hers, setting a brutal pace for (he hopes) a much quicker payoff. ]
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no subject
But even if he'd wanted to say anything, perhaps it would've been cut short. They're this far now—it's not like her intentions are subtle, and any refusal he could mount has been nonexistent. Then it's no shock that she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, over the vertical scar that runs across them, quick and chaste, too brief for him to think about responding before she pulls away. There's amusement when he huffs, the corner of his lips quirked into a smirk. ]
I thought I was supposed to be testing your drug. The experiment isn't gonna hold up if you interfere.
[ He wouldn't have a problem pitching her off his lap if he were so committed to the integrity of the test, but verbal is as far as his opposition gets. At least it can't be questioned that the aphrodisiac is doing its job. ]
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[As if seeking to answer her own question, Rin rolls her hips against him. Purposefully indulging in the friction between them as she drags herself against the evidence of his interest. However she quickly dismounts. Pulling herself off his lap and settling beside him once more to make sure the 'medicine' is completely prepared for him to take.
It's a shame to have to retreat, but even if her heart beats a little faster she knows they've already agreed to swap. The thrill she seeks is sure to come in time.]
Drink up.
no subject
But ultimately, he's agreed to come for a specific purpose, so he doesn't fight it. He scoots forward on the couch and leans in, taking the glass between four fingers, pinky lifted yet again. For as fussy as the gesture seems, he doesn't flinch at the murky appearance of the mixture; he swirls it around once, twice, then raises it to his lips and throws it back as though it were a beer he was meant to chug.
The medicine is bitter. The taste of it is harsh going down his tongue, so in that sense, probably better to have it done quickly. His throat bobs with the large gulps he takes, draining the glass clean within a couple of swallows. When it clatters back onto the coffee table, there's only a thin rim of powder left coating the bottom edge. Though Tomura doesn't complain verbally, he sticks his tongue out as a signal of distaste. He's mostly forgotten about the print of a heart now stamped onto it, just red enough to stand out against the flesh; currently, he's just more concerned that his mouth feels gritty. ]
no subject
Maybe it's the way his suit mark catches her eye, or the soft pink contrasting against the rough features of his face? Rin's hands rest on her lap, and her fingers curl and grip at the fabric of her skirt to keep herself from ruining the illusion of patience.]
Perhaps... I should grind the powder finer next time.
no subject
It's fine.
[ He says this, but his nose wrinkles. He takes the glass and reaches for the water jug for a refill. ]
It's medicine.
[ It's supposed to be unpleasant. And even if it weren't, the pleasantry wouldn't change the effectiveness, the intended purpose of the drug. They weren't children anymore, needing the bitterness to be tempered by the syrupy sweet; they couldn't expect for every hardship to be cushioned, couldn't expect to get far in life by taking a smooth path. If the medicine works just as well in its current form, why go out of the way?
If it works. He washes down the remaining grit in his mouth, then slouches back on the couch to wait. ]
How long is it supposed to take?
no subject
[Will she be able to last that long? Even if Tomura isn't "conventionally" attractive, she still finds herself drawn to him. Hungry for his warmth, and dying to explore his skin. It may be rough, riddled with scar tissue, and some parts may look worn like untreated leather. Yet he still appeals to her. Tomura reminds her of a large predator — strong muscle and probably the intent to back it up, but lazy. Unmoved and unbothered by anyone who isn't a current meal or threat to his territory.
It makes a small girl like her want to push him down and keep him that way. Carefully underneath her thumb like a collared beast. It would be a false sense of triumph and security to be sure, but it would satiate her need.]
no subject
He gives it maybe two minutes before he speaks up. ]
Am I supposed to feel it working by now?
[ His tone comes out tight and gruff, and his posture—initially patient and waiting—reflects the new attitude. While he hasn't changed the way he's sitting at all, his fists are now clenched and a tension runs through his legs—wholly unlike someone who's found relief in her cure. ]
no subject
Better luck next time, I guess. I should make it more potent.
[Tohsaka reaches out to him. Her soft hand resting on one of his balled fists. Her fingers brush against the lines of his knuckles and feel at the tension he holds in himself. She'll make the first move, she'll start advancing. This is her responsibility, and it would be cruel of Rin to make him stew in it any longer than necessary.
After all, she's warm too. Her blood running hot in her veins as she dares not take her eyes off him. Blue gaze fixes on the way his body is tight. Strong with defined muscle and visible strength. She wants to feel it, too — that strength. To know what she's up against and to contemplate the ways she might subdue him should they ever disagree on something worth applying strength over.
Would most conventional girls cringe at him and shy away? Probably, but she's intrigued. Like a cat whose curiosity gets the best of them.]
Do you want a kiss, or would you rather I speed this up?
no subject
He registers the brush of her fingers against his hands, though he doesn't unfurl to receive her just yet. The repression of arousal leaves him tensed and avoidant, his attention devoted to restraint like the dams holding back a flood. He sucks in a breath through his nose. ]
You didn't do it on purpose, did ya?
[ He sounds neutral, if gruff in his distraction: it might be half a joke, half suspicion. Maybe Tohsaka would be the type to try something like that, but even if it were intentional, he wouldn't find himself overly bothered. Such is life in the Golden Peacock, playing their hedonist game. And since the answer doesn't truly matter, he finally moves, a twist of his wrists ending with hers held firmly in his grasp. His index remains lifted on his right hand—the side which still has that finger—as though in habit, despite the casual certainty in his strength. ]
Get on with it, then.
[ There's a strain to the thin curl of his lips—the challenge it should bear wavers, thanks to the sense of urgency. No qualms with letting his partner lead, as long as the stakes aren't high. Perhaps it might telegraph reservation and modesty in some, but for him, Tohsaka's earlier read would be correct—the kind of nonchalance yielded by a particular mix of laziness and unwavering self-assurance. ]
no subject
[Tohsaka knows she's not ugly. Her petite body has its assets even if she's a bit of a disappointment up top. Her image wasn't crafted for a place like this — instead she grew up modest and alluring. Something ideal and up on a pedestal without being too raunchy or base. She was desirable in the way one might want to covet a jewel rather than lusted after like one might crave an unhealthy food. She's quite certain if he's willing then she could have just asked.
Only on her end she cannot just ask. Everything must be a game or a challenge or some kind of transaction. The trade of one thing for another. In a contest of mental gymnastics, Rin would probably be considered an Olympian.]
You know, that's an awfully accusatory thing to say to someone who finds it easy to work with you.
[Hell, maybe in time she'll be able to say she enjoys working with him. As is, he has her wrist firmly in the grip of his hand. It makes Rin uses her free one to hold his cheek and guide his face. Angling him in a way she can easily lean in and press a kiss just off from his lips. The small beauty mark just above his jaw serves as a target of her physical advance so she can slowly pepper her way to the corner of Shigaraki's mouth.
Meanwhile her free hand falls from his face (because she's allowing him to keep the wrist he had claimed) and Rin reaches down to his waistband. Gentle fingers exploring what obstacles she may have to tackle before they're able to free him from the tension straining Tomura's muscles.]
no subject
Just checking—
[ His mild response to her offense, not that it seems very deep-seated at all. He wouldn't have particularly cared, in any case; call it a fucked up sense of adaptation, but getting dosed feels par of the course for life here, regardless of how it might be taken elsewhere. The result is the same anyway: that familiar pull of arousal, drawing him toward the warm body leaning in, cascading perfumed fragrance.
Though she hadn't asked for it, she kisses him anyway. Surprising. In contrast to her smooth, fair skin, she would find his lips scarred and chapped—not that it's ever stopped him before, nor certain partners of his. He simply wouldn't have expected it to come from the lady of the house. Still somewhat at a loss (and no doubt making some assumptions as to how a woman would prefer to fuck), he lets her take the lead, to take the kiss as far as she wants. It's soft, a little tentative for his preference in this state, the impatience simmering below his skin finding the touch at his waistband more welcome. In turn, Tohsaka would find little impediment in her way, just a simple pair of drawstring sweatpants and plain briefs beneath that. He'll release her wrist to make it easier on her, and his hands will instead find purchase on her hips—not yet pulling, but the grip of his fingers firm and tense, the one current point of contact where he can externalize some of the building pressure within his body. ]
no subject
Rin bites at his bottom lip — rolls the chapped skin between her teeth before taking him suddenly. Locked briefly, passionately, as she swipes a taste and small moment of stolen time exploring his mouth. After that sudden confirmation of her own interest, Rin pulls away. Just enough so that her hands can ease away his bottoms to leave him bare assed on her couch. Just enough so that she can shed any remaining clothes on herself other than the miniskirt fluttering about the tops of her thighs.]
Just relax. I said I'd take care of it.
[Before advancing any further her eyes fall to his lap. Gauging how ready he is, because Tohsaka already knows she can probably "get right to it" with just a little bit more effort. The heat and yearning pool in her gut just aching to be quenched. Meanwhile she shifts her weight — preparing herself to mount him properly soon.]
And I keep my word.
no subject
He exhales harshly through his nose, before raising his hips and assisting her in getting his pants off. Then he's left with his bottom half bare, uncovering a dusting of white hair and his erection, hard and ready, already spurred to full interest with the aid of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins. Again, with some willpower, he sinks back into the couch, legs spread, unashamed of his exposure. He'll keep his hands to himself for now, while he waits to see what she has planned, letting one arm fall over the chair back while the other drops to his side. It's only his eyes that don't rest, as they rake over her body and follow her movements, before finally landing on her face. ]
Then show me.
[ It's a command, to match her own suggestions. Tomura's not the type to beg, so the impatience manifests as challenge instead, to goad her on rather than to ask her for release. ]
no subject
Hair traps scent, after all, as so she always makes certain she's as smooth as possible. He'll feel the way she changes the angle of her hips so that his tip glides along her folds. Picking up the slick fluid that serves as evidence of her own arousal. After giving him a few passes, Rin aims Tomura's erection at her core, and begins to lower herself down so that he sinks into her.]
Just don't expect anything too special.
[It takes her a few moments to adjust having him inside her, but after the walls of her cunt relax around his dick Rin begins to ride him. The hand that kept his cock steady now takes hold of his other shoulder as she uses the strength in her legs and abs to find herself a steady rhythm. Rin expects nothing of him — but not as an insult! The failure of her mixture is not a burden he should have to bear, so Rin intends to let him luxuriate.]
Unless you're the kind of guy who likes to make requests?
[If not, well... she'll make sure to explore him a little more once she finds a solid pace.]
no subject
She's wet, the slickness easing the glide of his tip against her slit, setting his already-sensitive nerves alight. With a breath hissed through clenched teeth, his hands come up to her once more, slipping under her skirt and gripping her thighs; she'll feel the strange points of his two remaining digits on his maimed left hand, but even his uninjured right grasps at her with only four fingers, the middle having been lifted away out of long-impressed habit. There's enough bruising force between them, nevertheless, and the bite of his nails, almost-but-not-quite dragging her down as she sinks over his cock, enveloping him in wet heat that makes his blood hum.
He doesn't rush her while she presumably adjusts (do girls need that?), but his hips shift again, restless and impatient. It's more so because he doesn't know what to expect that he makes no moves of his own—between his inexperience with women and being on this end of the act, it's not so easy to predict what to actually do to get the most out of this position. What doesn't currently really factor in is his partner's enjoyment of the act; unfortunately, he just isn't yet at the point of caring very much how this experience plays out for Rin.
So, even if she asks that, there isn't a good reply for him to give. Just a huffed breath in amusement, before her movements cue him to the option of pushing a little more. His grip on her thighs tightens briefly as he rolls his hips into her momentum; though this may be a relative unknown to him, the instinctual desire to chase a pace that's harder and rougher isn't lost on him, further incited by the aphro coursing through his body. The steady rhythm she builds only lasts for a bit; once he's settled with the knowledge that Tohsaka isn't voicing any complaints, that the glide of his length against her walls meets with no resistance, his hands slip up to grip her ass and anchor her position before he pistons his hips into hers, setting a brutal pace for (he hopes) a much quicker payoff. ]