Sorry, it's weird, right? I don't—really know, just—
[ she breaks off, gasping, and curls a hand tightly into moonjelly's hair. ]
It's just. Nice when you say my name and when you look at me like I'm the only thing in the world even if I hate eye contact and also when you mark me up but that part I don't have to ask for.
[ her voice is flowing when she says the name, softly and floatily. it's the voice she uses when she's singing, the one that compels and captivates those who listen to her. the one that conveys the emotions she isn't actually speaking - here, a longing.
she thumbs a nipple, moving to bite again - leaving another mark just a few inches from the first. ]
My prey, then. Were you jealous? When I brought up Coquette? Did you want to be the only one I hunt?
[ oh no she needs to jump out a window and never be seen again, but also the way moonjelly says her name really is captivating, and also her brain keeps short-circuiting with every touch. ]
It's very uncool of me and I, ah—nnnn... it's not like I even have the right, and I'm. Trying really hard not to make it weird, and. And. I know it's—stupid.
It's fine. I like it. It makes me feel like I belong somewhere other than the sea.
[ another bite - this time just to the side of the same nipple she's tweaking. her other hand slips down into corretto's bottoms, rubbing her through her underwear. ]
[ she tilts her head back and cuts off as she clamps her mouth shut on what would have otherwise been a full-throated moan; she grinds against moonjelly's hand reflexively. ]
It's just really hard to, to... y. you know. Everything.
Ah—ahhh, I guess—you're making, a pretty good caaaaase... fuck.
[ she presses back against Moonjelly's fingers, sighing headily; her own fingers trace down the front of the other woman's clothes to cup at her breasts over the fabric. ]
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Re: MOONJELLY
Sorry, it's weird, right? I don't—really know, just—
[ she breaks off, gasping, and curls a hand tightly into moonjelly's hair. ]
It's just. Nice when you say my name and when you look at me like I'm the only thing in the world even if I hate eye contact and also when you mark me up but that part I don't have to ask for.
Re: MOONJELLY
[ her voice is flowing when she says the name, softly and floatily. it's the voice she uses when she's singing, the one that compels and captivates those who listen to her. the one that conveys the emotions she isn't actually speaking - here, a longing.
she thumbs a nipple, moving to bite again - leaving another mark just a few inches from the first. ]
My prey, then. Were you jealous? When I brought up Coquette? Did you want to be the only one I hunt?
Re: MOONJELLY
[ oh no she needs to jump out a window and never be seen again, but also the way moonjelly says her name really is captivating, and also her brain keeps short-circuiting with every touch. ]
It's very uncool of me and I, ah—nnnn... it's not like I even have the right, and I'm. Trying really hard not to make it weird, and. And. I know it's—stupid.
Re: MOONJELLY
[ another bite - this time just to the side of the same nipple she's tweaking. her other hand slips down into corretto's bottoms, rubbing her through her underwear. ]
It wasn't your fault I left, you know.
Re: MOONJELLY
[ she tilts her head back and cuts off as she clamps her mouth shut on what would have otherwise been a full-throated moan; she grinds against moonjelly's hand reflexively. ]
It's just really hard to, to... y. you know. Everything.
Re: MOONJELLY
No. I don't. So use your words. You know I'm not good at understanding these things.
And - stop covering your mouth. I want to hear you.
1/2
Re: MOONJELLY
[ she squirms a little ]
...I know. I just always feel like I'm doing something wrong. Everywhere. With everyone, so...
...it's one thing to know it's not my fault, academically, and another to get myself to actually believe it.
Re: MOONJELLY
[ a beat, before she slips her hand into corretto's underwear, fingers brushing against her clit. ]
Isn't that easy?
Re: MOONJELLY
[ she presses back against Moonjelly's fingers, sighing headily; her own fingers trace down the front of the other woman's clothes to cup at her breasts over the fabric. ]