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no subject
[When Mukuro grabs her, she doesn't even tense up. Her reaction is almost lazy, even though her heart rate speeds up, her eyes go wide. Mukuro grabs her and moves her and holds her, and Lila's . . . surprised, but also not. Is it so strange, really? Mukuro wants to be close, especially when things feel strange and difficult and dangerous. She wants comfort just like anyone else. It's just that she trusts so few people to safely provide it.]
[That's another way they're the same. One more way at the bottom of an ever-growing list.]
[Lila isn't thinking about that list now, though. Not with arms around her and her face still tucked against Mukuro's throat despite the shift in position. Her own arms settle naturally around Mukuro's neck, fingers clasping loosely together at the nape as though the idea of being let go is so unrealistic she's got no need to tightly hold on. She's a ragdoll, limp in Mukuro's arms, knees pressed tight to outside of her thighs.]
[When Mukuro pulls back to look at her, Lila looks back, blinking slowly, calm and content. As agitated as she was a few minutes ago, this feels so correct that she's calmed down entirely. She's where she needs to be.]
[So is Mukuro, who promised. They both promised. There's a leash here, but it goes two ways, and she . . . takes her responsibility seriously.]
[The only tell is the way Lila's hands shift. They separate, and one comes to curl in the fabric at Mukuro's shoulder, the other sinks deep into the thick hair-and-fur at the nape of her neck. That's the only indication that something's going to happen before Lila's stretching up, the whole line of her body pressed close as she kisses Mukuro — soft and staticky and lingering.]
[Perfect moments don't exist. But she likes this one pretty well.]
no subject
somehow, she isn't expecting it.
there's a tiny gasp, just before Lila connects, and then - it's like - like when you turn off an old television, how it flashes and then contracts to one bright circle in the center of the dimming screen. everything else is faded. a shiver runs through her, fur fluffing up as if from the static of the screen. her mind is mostly blank except that low electric hum and she can't tell if it's real or imagined but it doesn't matter. nothing else matters. her focus has narrowed to just this, just now. just Lila. she accepts it tamely, doing her best to make it easier, even as her heartbeat speeds out of rhythm. she holds Lila just a little tighter, curls her tail up and around them both like a shield, and lets her eyes close.
later, she'll be impressed and kind of awed that Lila just went for it, despite the unfamiliarity of dealing with a snout. it's a marvel to her that Lila would want to do this at all with someone like her, especially now, beastly thing that she is. but right now she can't think about that, about how everything about her has always been wrong, how no one else is ever supposed to care about her or treat her like this - because Lila is, and there's no room in her head for doubt or fear or anything but her.]
no subject
[Not that it's the first time she's thought that. She doesn't even know when the first time is. It snuck up on her, but it lives in her freely and openly now: that Mukuro is cute like this, cute on the Fog, cute in the daytime with her big ears and her sharp teeth. Mukuro's really cute in the moment before Lila kisses her, breath catching like she didn't expect it, like Lila isn't always thinking about whether this is the right moment, or this one, or what about now. Like she's not always thinking about loving Mukuro somehow. Doesn't matter what state she's in.]
[This place has done something to her. Made her greedier, or made her heart bigger, or opened her up somehow. This girl is hers, she thinks, and no one can ever hurt her again. Mukuro's the big bad wolf, but she's the scary one, and that's good, because — because Mukuro needs somebody to take care of her, sometimes.]
[It's different, kind of, and kind of isn't. Everything about this fits Mukuro and fits them. She presses as close to Mukuro on her lap as she can manage, fitting herself flush and stubbornly refusing to let go. After a few moments she remembers her claws and starts moving them, scratching the nape of Mukuro's neck as she grins against her mouth, not really stopping at all when she speaks. Words can do what they want, but they can't make her let go.]
I'm yours, right?
[There's something in her voice that sounds kind of like prove it.]
no subject
There's another shallow gasp when Lila digs her claws into her mane. Not to hurt, it doesn't hurt - she knows it could, and that it won't, and that makes it even sweeter. When Lila speaks, Mukuro shivers. Beautiful terrible carnivore girl, hungry enough to swallow her heart, but - it's not - like that. This feels - safe, even with her heart speeding out of rhythm and the adrenalin in her veins. Even though this isn't what she'd ever have expected, after everything. It's right.
Mukuro doesn't answer with words. She doesn't think she even could, but that's fine, she doesn't have to. Lila understands her, even when she's stammering or speechless. So. She simply tilts her head slightly and leans to return the kiss, tame and gentle but, for once, not hesitant. There's no sense of uncertainty when she slips one hand into the shadow-shock of her hair, holding her close - nor even when she grazes her fangs over Lila's lower lip, just barely, so very, very careful not to hurt. Lila is hers, and she is Lila's, and it feels so obvious even she can't overthink it.]
no subject
[For Mukuro, she wants to be soft. Softness is harder. It’s not something she’s ever had permission to be, much less practice in being. From birth she’s been taught to have her claws out, and it seeped into her psyche in too, too many ways. But there is no power dynamic with Mukuro. They’re equal. The only person with the power to change it, to twist it and make it wrong, is Lila, and she won’t. She can’t. She could never.]
[She wants to be soft for Mukuro, sweet and a little bit sour, but not so much as to hurt. She wants to make her home in Mukuro’s heart, but gently, not kindly because that’s too far to push but with all the aching tenderness she can scrounge from her empty unbody. She gives herself to Mukuro — I’m yours — like permission, like a question, like a gift, except she’s not giving anything at all. It’s been true since long before she said it out loud. Even if Mukuro didn’t know, she did.]
[When Mukuro kisses her back, she makes a sound, warm and rolling, like a purr and a hum and a laugh mixed together. Eager as she is to respond, she holds herself back, lets Mukuro carry her along in her own way. She’s Mukuro’s. She wants to know what it means to be Mukuro’s, underneath it all. The way people touch means everything. What people do with their hands and their mouths and their bodies — that’s honesty.]
[And Mukuro buries a hand in her hair, which uncoils, sparking at the end, and re-coils gently around her wrist, cool and soft, surprisingly similar in texture to human hair underneath the static of it all. That sound comes again, more surprised but still very pleased, when Mukuro’s fangs happen to her. So gentle. That’s right. Mukuro wants to be soft for her, too.]
[She feels so much, she thinks she might explode.]
[The tip of her tongue chases Mukuro’s teeth as they pull away; she crowds in close for more, not giving any chance to breathe, demanding and insistent. Mine, mine, mine, the drumbeat at the back of her mind, but it’s not the beat of obsession for once, just possession. Her heart is too full to handle, and this is the only way she knows to explain.]
no subject
Her ears flit forward, straining for more, every part of her alert and eager. She didn't even have time to second-guess her choices, Lila's responses are so quick and encouraging. It's something she wonders at, distantly, in the back of her mind. This level of freedom is new and overwhelming; Mukuro has never been given free reign like this. She's been trained to accept, not initiate. She'd be kind of terrified, if it was anything but this - anyone but Lila, who keeps making pleased, encouraging noises, chasing away doubts before they have any time to fully form. Even then, Mukuro's heart is fluttering like hummingbird wings in her chest, so quick and strong even Lila can probably feel it - but even that thought doesn't embarrass her like it should.
It's not dangerous for Lila to know how she feels, it's not a flaw or a weakness for Mukuro to be obvious in how she wants - she's glad to prove how committed she is, more than anything. It's another trait they share without knowing, the thought that bodies are far more honest than words. She can say she's Lila's all she likes, but there's nothing more convincing than proving it.
So when Lila demands more, Mukuro is more than happy to provide, even as a noise of pleased surprise escapes her, too. She's pliant and open, as she always is for Lila, but she meets all of Lila's enthusiasm with her own to match. Mukuro belongs to her as much and as long as Lila wants her, and she'll do her best to not disappoint. Lila chases, and Mukuro lets herself be caught, closing her eyes into another lingering kiss. She's careful, doing her best not to be clumsy despite her snout, easing into using this new shape in a much softer way than she has so far. She's crushed bones in these jaws, and yet, every time her mouth meets Lila's is gentle. Her next breath out carries a faint whine, at once canine and girl, plaintive and reverent.]
no subject
[What she's learning is that she actually really, really likes kissing Mukuro like this. It's different, and she's desperately curious, starving-curious, to kiss her during the daytime — but this, this is different and breathless and lovely, the more she learns the muzzle's shape and angles. So far, her favorite thing is the teeth. Every time they break even slightly, she slips her tongue out to taste the tip of Mukuro's canines, whichever one is closer, relishing the implication of strength, of power that presses at her tongue, knowing that Mukuro could hurt her, knowing that she won't, not ever. Knowing that, if she ever wanted it, Mukuro could hold her still, safe, secure, unable to move.]
[That's not the kind of thing she's ever thought about before. She doesn't like people having power over her. But this is — it's different. It's Mukuro, it's different. Nothing bad will ever, ever happen to her in Mukuro's arms, and that's so freeing it feels like inhaling for the first time. Like doors opening. Like freefalling with a parachute.]
[Soft whining in her ear brings her settling deep into the moment. Literally: she settles more securely into her body, weight resting heavier on Mukuro's lap. The more present she feels, the more she squirms, breath coming out in a sharp huff that's something like impatience, gimme gimme gimme, and something like longing, hold me hold me hold me. Her mind is flying. She wants a hundred things at once.]
Muku—
[She leans her whole body against Mukuro's chest, their breath warm and indistinguishable. Her claws scrape against the back of the wolf's neck, deliberately scratching, a rhythmic movement as grounding for her as she wants it to be for Mukuro.]
You're so good. So good, so good, so so so . . .
[It dissolves into mumbling, which devolves into another kiss. She's not interested in stopping. She doesn't do stopping.]
no subject
She knows that at first it had been the similarities that drew her in. When Mukuro was newly arrived, her one connection forcibly and freshly severed, panicked and desperate - this girl was the first to remind her, even a little bit, of what she'd lost. But even in that first meeting there were differences - Lila was confident, but not cruel. Even if she had the ability to be, she hadn't been. She spoke straightforwardly, always saying exactly what she meant. She didn't get upset or mock her, when Mukuro stumbled; she never took any of the conversational knives Mukuro kept accidentally handing her. Even from the very beginning she'd told Mukuro to make her own choices. "If you don't like your name, pick a new one." She'd always chosen to be kind to Mukuro. And Mukuro knows it was a choice, she knew even then that kindness doesn't come easily to her, but Lila kept doing it every time - and she was always honest, until it became second nature for Mukuro to trust her. Until Mukuro was more than willing to serve and sacrifice, the same as she would for any of the ones she really cared about, and even then Lila never misused that.
And - even now. Even with claws and fangs, even with so many, many ways to hurt her, Lila isn't. She could, and Mukuro would let her - gladly, humbly, gratefully - but she isn't, and it's such an immediate, stark difference from all her past experiences. Even aside from the physical - the praise makes her heart thrill ever higher, sends pleased sparks of satisfaction through her, makes her want to do anything and everything she can to hear more, more, more - it feels almost selfish, greedy to want so much, she knows she's never deserved it - except Lila thinks she does, and who is she to argue? How could Mukuro ever even dream of doubting her? It's the same reason she isn't scared. This is all new, down to the basics - she can't even claim any expertise with this body, or with her partner's. There are so many ways she could fail - except it doesn't feel like that, really. Not with Lila encouraging her every step of the way, with everything she is - every little noise, every inch of herself pressed close, eager and hungry and telling her she's good.
God, she wants so badly to be good for her.
Her tail's wagging so rapidly she's almost shaking - no, she is shaking, just a little, and her breathing's coming in shallow little pants, and there's heat coiled low in her belly and she feels more alive than she can remember being - the next kiss draws another sound out of her, plaintive and needy, and when they part she has to inhale sharply before she can rasp,]
Lila, [breathless and reverent, claws curled so carefully around her to keep her close,] I - hhh - h-how - tell me what you want, please, I - anything, anything, I just--
[She'd give her the world if she could. She's not thinking of anything but Lila, in this moment. Just her, all-encompassing.]
no subject
[And Lila finds she doesn't mind. More than that, she shudders underneath it, Mukuro's words wrapping around her like hands on her body, like the body heat she's suddenly so desperate for. Tell me what you want, Mukuro begs, and she shakes her head, uncertain, because the answer is—]
Everything.
[It comes out on a long, whined exhale, her head falling forward gently to rest their foreheads together. This isn't a helpful answer, she knows, but it's all she can manage for a moment. Her instincts are all messed up. If it was a guy she wouldn't care, she'd just take what she wanted, but with a girl she finds herself unsure if it's too much, too fast. If it's going to make her look bad skmehow. At the same time, she can't doubt Mukuro, she never has. And then again she's desperate. She wants to feel so, so badly. And Mukuro is so good at reminding her how real she is.]
[What comes out, ultimately, is a shaky,] It's okay? [a breathless request for reassurance. In the same instant she solidifies still further, although just verging on all the way, because all the way means making a decision about clothes, and she can't, not yet. It's a lot. And she knows what she wants, but—]
Touch me? Like— [A pulse of red flashes through her, lingers, beating warm in her core. Her mouth hangs open slightly, panting, knees squeezing tight around Mukuro's thighs.] It — at the dance, the thing, you know — just touching me was—
[Everything. Too much and not enough. She fumbles.]
I want everything. But can you just touch me?
no subject
It's okay.
[Little more than a whisper, but without hesitation. It's okay. They're okay. She's more okay than she's been in weeks, it feels like. Touch me, she asks - not an order, it's too soft, softer than Lila almost ever is, but Mukuro takes it as gospel all the same. Lila doesn't have to command her for her to listen, she wants to, she wants to be hers, she wants to be good.
She makes a soft, affirmative sound, first, making sure Lila knows it's okay, she's been heard, that she won't have to wait. Mukuro reaches to cup her cheek with one hand, nuzzling at her briefly before she ducks - and swipes her tongue along the scar across her throat, and bites, so so gently, where her neck and shoulder meet. Not enough to bleed, not even enough to leave a mark - she wouldn't dream of it, not without permission, not without being asked. But a reminder of her teeth, of her promise, i'm yours and you're mine, where all her strength is for Lila. Lila, Lila, Lila-- she can't tell if she's murmuring it or just listening to it echo in her mind, drowning out anything else - her other hand's around Lila's middle, holding her close, claws splayed across her ribcage. Gentle, always, because even though she knows Lila's tough she never wants to hurt her. Mukuro would rather die.]
cw slut-shaming
[It doesn't make sense. Even she knows that. Mukuro, of all people, wouldn't care. Mukuro doesn't care about anything like that. But it would shatter her if this changed anything. She'd fall apart.]
[This feels so much realer than anything that happened to her in those seven months.]
[The fear doesn't last, anyway. It's easy to trust Mukuro, that look in her eye and the more-than-human warmth of her body; she reassures, and Lila swallows, bites her lip, nods, pushing herself a little closer to proper corporeality.]
[And then there's no time to adjust, which is frankly the greatest relief she could have asked for. Mukuro's breath hot on her throat, the wet stripe licked along her scar, would make her legs give out if she wasn't already being supported. As it is, she whimpers, head instinctively tipping to one side to make room, because she doesn't mind-know but she heart-knows, she body-knows—]
[Teeth. In her throat, in the space where the plane of her shoulder meets the slope of her neck. Her whole body jolts at the sudden sensation of it, shudders slow as that sensation doesn't stop; all of her nerves realize, bit by bit, that it's not a single sharp bite but a slow, steady pressure, pinning her down, holding her in place. I'm yours and you're mine.]
Fuck, [she whispers,] fuckfuckfuck, Mm— [And she's there, suddenly, the claiming and belonging of it all shoving her firmly into the only body she can properly claim as her own anymore, the monochromatic form that's normally such work to access. Not here, not now, not with Mukuro. Not feeling this good, warm from tip to toe and fully settled in her bare skin. Her weight settles, entirely present and square in the middle of Mukuro's lap, just Lila, only Lila, warm and warming still under so much being wanted.]
cw: vague body image/self-hate thoughts, Junko Implications
Her first coherent thought, in words, is 'this isn't fair.' So - she lets go with one hand and then the other, unzipping and shrugging off her vest, letting it fall where it may. She doesn't want Lila to be self-conscious, and she doesn't want Lila to put up with the feel of rough fabric and zippers against her skin when she has soft fur to offer instead. Even if she's just a beast, even if her chest is just a sleek flat plane under thick fur - disappointing - but she shoves that thought down, immediately, because she doesn't want to think about that, about her, not when she's so unbelievably lucky to have Lila here with her, wanting her, real for her, despite how many flaws and faults she might have. She can't focus on them. Lila won't let her.
She releases her jaws and lathes her tongue over the spot, smoothing out the minor indents her teeth left behind. Nothing else. No blood, no bruises. She can snap bones like twigs, slice through flesh in an instant, but for Lila, she's nothing but tame. She kisses the center of the scar, then lays a trail of them up Lila's throat to meet her mouth again, soft and sweet and endlessly grateful as she pulls Lila close against her. All of her - sharp teeth, soft fur, warm tongue and liquid-gold eyes - every single part of her is for Lila. To keep as long as she wants, to use as she sees fit. Mukuro pulls back to gaze at her after a moment, into Lila's mismatched eyes, and murmurs breathlessly,]
You're beautiful.
[It's not a new sentiment. But it never hurts to remind her.]
no subject
[So she forgot. She didn't think about what it would be like to be this close to someone after all this time, in a body that approaches a human body in so many ways. Already she's burning up, so close to a body warmer than a human being's and covered in fur and held close and wanting so hard, like it's burning her up from the inside. The texture of fur tickles the insides of her thighs as Mukuro shifts beneath her, as she feels and hears more than sees the vest be discarded. It takes no time, nothing at all, for her to reach for what she's been offered, hands greedily sinking into Mukuro's fur, both at once, raking up from stomach to chest, curious and exploratory. Her eyes stay closed, head tipped to one side, breathless with the kisses laid on her neck, breathless with everything she's been given. And they just started.]
[They just started, and already Mukuro's looking at her so hard she can feel it with her eyes closed. She cracks her own open just in time for a kiss, then another, and after the third she licks the tip of Mukuro's nose, dizzy with affection.]
Yeah? . . . You like to tell me that, huh?
[She feels drunk. She feels loopy. She's overwhelmed, but it's in a good way. Really, they're not as dissimilar as they might be when it comes to body type. Lila's always been little, and although she's filled out some it's not dramatic, a petite frame for such a demanding person.]
[Careful but not cautious, her fingers rake through the fur on Mukuro's chest, bottom lip between her teeth. Her gaze keeps drifting down, hungry. Slowly but surely, the confidence is coming back, seeping in warm and welcoming as her body remembers how to feel good.]
You're hot. You're — really — yeah. [Yeah. She arches against the warmth of Mukuro's hand on her stomach, shivering as she feels it collect and spread across her skin.] It's . . . cool. Seeing you like this. Is that weird? That I want you like this?
[She doesn't sound like she thinks it's weird. She doesn't sound insecure in the least anymore. Her stare is locked on the way her fingers slide through Mukuro's bare fur, aware of nothing else.]
no subject
Because you are-- ah--
[She can't help shivering. Something about the way Lila combs through her fur like that, curious and eager - especially when her hands are so warm. She's used to - nothing, really, at most a mild chill when Lila passes through her, this is so different. But even as distracted as she is, her ears flit towards the sound of Lila's voice. Attentive, as always, even feeling completely out of her depth.]
Mmn - m-maybe, but - we're all weird, [Mukuro mumbles, nosing at her, ever affectionate.] 'n it'd be - weird, anyway, I - n-no one's ever-- [thought of her as hot, or cute, or handsome or anything else Lila's ever said, no one's ever cared what Mukuro thought about anything, no one's ever been so nice to her--] e-ever treated me - like you do.
[She lowers her head to bite Lila's opposite shoulder, equally as gentle. Hers, each other's, always - and never, ever a danger to her.]
no subject
[Under the pressure of Mukuro's teeth, she shivers, sighs, opens up her heart bit by bit at every brush of skin and fur. This is something she knows, she knows it, she does, truly, it's just . . . it seems so strange. So ridiculous, that nobody wanted Mukuro the way she wants her. Thoroughly, completely, adoringly, with every inch of her body and every ounce of her heart. It doesn't make sense.]
[Teeth worrying lightly at her bottom lip, she shifts, restlessly lifting her hips with every touch Mukuro offers her; her claws trail up the thinner fur on Mukuro's stomach, up her chest, to draw hungry circles on her shoulder. Back down again, exploring with greedy hands as she goes, fingers spread. There's more of Mukuro to discover later, another time, a whole different body, but this is the one under her hands now, and this is the one she wants.]
. . . I'm gonna make it so it's not weird anymore.
[She turns her head and whispers it into the soft shell of Mukuro's ear, breath tickling, parting the fur under her lips.]
I'm gonna make you feel good all the time, so that feels normal. So you know how much I want you, really know it. I want you to be able to feel it when I walk in the room, how hard it is for me to not be touching you. I'm gonna make sure you know how much you're wanted. Okay? I promise.
[She doesn't break promises. Not ever, and especially not this one.]
no subject
Lila purring in her ear, oh, god - Mukuro shivers, swallows hard, and nods, dumbly, only able to listen for a few moments before she can manage a response.]
Okay, [she breathes, almost a sigh, reverent and absolutely trusting. She believes her. Of course she believes her. Even if it seems impossible - for anyone to care about her like this, for anyone to want her like this - Lila wouldn't lie to her, and Lila doesn't give up. So - okay. Lila can have her. Anywhere, any time. Mukuro's hers, completely.
A thought occurs to her, slowly, like surfacing through molasses - it's hard to think like this, her mind's hazy, but - they're in the kitchen. Still. It doesn't really matter, especially since Lila doesn't really cook, but - she deserves better, right? To be comfortable, to be pampered. So. She keeps one arm around Lila's middle, slips the other beneath her to keep her supported, and slides down off the island counter, claws clicking onto the tile. Even when she's fully corporeal, it's nothing for Mukuro to carry Lila to her bedroom.]
no subject
[It makes her yelp, the combination of the sudden motion and the warmth and the arm that slides under her for balance. Wrapping her arms around the back of Mukuro's neck by instinct, she buries her face in the fur of her neck to stifle her giggles. By the time they've made it to her room, she's biting gently at the crux of shoulder and neck, not even slightly making it through the ruff but just happy to be making some kind of contact.]
[And then Mukuro lays her down on the bed so gently, like she's some kind of treasure, like she deserves the world and more than the world. Staring up at her, all washed-out color and vulnerability, Lila looks like she's seeing Mukuro for the first time all over again.]
[It kind of feels like it. Even with people she trusts as much as she trusts Mukuro, it's hard not to think things will go a certain way. But Mukuro's treating her like — not like she's breakable, but like she deserves to be protected even though she's titanium.]
[Her chest rises, and she catches her breath, holding it there for long seconds before letting it out again.]
Come here. [Barely audible, whispered and sweet. One ankle hooks around the back of Mukuro's calf.] I want you, so come here.
getting spicy, mild cisnormative thoughts but also the opposite of that
There's so much she wants to do she's almost dizzy - her first instinct is to kneel and worship her the way Lila deserves, she knows she's good at it, especially now. My, big bad wolf, what a long tongue you have. But she also knows there's a time limit, tick-tick-ticking away. She can't do everything at once. And she knows - Lila wants to be connected, to be close, to feel as much as she can while she can. And Mukuro's been given this fluid form as a gift. Told to use it as she sees fit. Told to enjoy it, and all the things she could never do in her old life. There's one part of her shape-shifting that hasn't been relevant to discuss until now, and even though it's - nerve-wracking, to try this when she's less familiar with this body, at least she knows Lila wants her. Like this, truly and completely. If she's been with boys before, then it isn't an issue, right...?
Besides - it's still not fair. So. With a shaky little breath, she reaches down. Front button and zipper first, then the button clasp over her tail, so she can squirm free of her pants and kick them aside. It's much, much more obvious now in the thin flexible undershorts, but she doesn't hesitate - if she waits she'll lose her nerve, so off they come too, after another moment. It's only then she's able to look back at her, and even without a blush showing through her fur, she's sure it's obvious in the way her ears pin back and her tail curls uncertainly below her. Nervous, vulnerable, but - she's Lila's, all of her and always. As long as Lila wants her. She takes a breath, licks her lips, and tries to speak:]
Is this - okay...?
[A low little rasp, unsure but hopeful. At the very least, the stereotypical fear is not at all on her mind - it's nicely proportionate to the rest of her, and at a bit over six and a half feet tall, that's not really a concern. No, it's the inhuman anatomy she's most self-conscious of - even if Lila's been very accommodating of her wolfishness so far, and it isn't as though it works any differently.]
also some mild cisnormative thoughts
[This never occurred to her. When she's thought about sex with Mukuro — which she has, a lot — she never factored the idea of a significant change in, because they never talked about it and it didn't really matter. It's like she told Komaeda: the exact details aren't the point. She just wants what she wants, and the rest sorts itself out.]
[That doesn't mean she's not surprised, though. It dawns on her slowly, thoughts slow with wanting, lips caught between her teeth as she watches Mukuro pull back a bit and shuck the rest of her clothes off, eyes dragging down her body with every fluid, graceful movement until finally—]
[Her attention snags. Breath catches. The body she so rarely manages contact with responds immediately, flooding her with heat that creeps grayscale up her cheeks and down her chest. She'd stare anyway, she'd be covetous and greedy anyway, but the difference is that she knows what this feels like, more or less, and her body remembers, too.]
[The sound she lets out is soft and pleading and just as involuntary as the way her thighs rub together, squeezing slightly before she nods. Her voice is gravelly, gunsmoke and hunger.]
Yeah. Yeah, that's—
[When she finally manages to look Mukuro in the face again, her pupils are blown, black expanding to the rims of her irises. Lila doesn't get embarrassed about much of anything, and she sure as shit doesn't look embarrassed now. She looks like she knows exactly what she wants, and knows she's going to get it, too.]
You know you're, like, unfairly hot, right? I need you to get that.
[And she needs Mukuro, period. Her ankle snakes insistently around the back of Mukuro's knee. Closer.]
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Because even if she hasn't done this before - with this body, this shape, this person - the wolf knows. It's just like anything else. Whether it's making use of her new long limbs, controlling the tiny muscles in her ears, or processing the data from what felt like brand new senses - the wolf knows, and the instincts are there to guide her. So she moves forward again to cover Lila's body with her own, sinking low on her elbows to feel Lila's curves dip into her fur. She reaches between them, ever careful of her claws - she should have clipped them, or something, but she hadn't known, she could never have guessed - and gently, so gently, she touches her.
She's still smiling to herself, about that compliment. Unfairly hot. That's probably true. It does feel unfair, that someone like her could captivate someone like Lila. Is it selfish, for her to be so grateful for it? And as insistent as Lila's being, she doesn't want to make her wait, but...]
I don't want to hurt you, [she breathes, pulling away from Lila to transfer that slick heat to herself. Even if she's not experienced using this yet, she gets the idea, and she's not completely clueless - it does make her shiver a little, though, the fur along her spine fluffing up a little at the sensation. Oh, wow. She's - going to have to focus. Don't disappoint. Closing her eyes, she noses in again, breathing soft and shallow as she aligns herself.]
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[Don't you dare fucking stop.]
[Something else she never thought about, how different it is to feel fur all over instead of skin. Good, though, and every shift and movement makes her breath catch, makes her move in turn. There's barely time for Mukuro to maneuver before she's braced one leg against her hip and rolling upward, chasing the fleeting touch, bottom lip caught between her very sharp teeth.]
I know. [Her breath comes shallow as she adjusts in an attempt to find contact, twisting her hips. She wants to feel the almost-danger of claws again, wants something, anything—] You're so sweet. You wanna be gentle. I know, I just—
[And then Mukuro's fur does a thing, and her face also does a thing that says she's overwhelmed but feels really good, and then there's a low, guttural sound as Lila feels heat and pressure and almost but not quite. She's so impatient, her hips snap up and she beats Mukuro to the punch, rutting up and rubbing against her but not quite letting her in.]
[Because there are shadows, light but persistent and terribly strong, wrapped around Mukuro's upper thighs, holding her in place. Because Lila didn't even mean to, not entirely, but as her fingers clutch tight at the ridge of fur along Mukuro's spine, her aura responds too, holding Mukuro in place for her to grind against for a minute, just for a minute, just because.]
You can still wreck me a little — right?
[Something in her expression collapses and opens, clear and needy and vulnerable, as she gets the angle just right, still not in but so close it feels almost as good, the tantalizing promise of fullness to come. Her spine arches, neck exposed. Every movement is easier, smoother, wetter. Her body clutches at Mukuro desperately, even as her shadows gleefully refuse to let her in.]
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Oh fuck.
Her body goes rigid, tail straight up, claws digging slightly into the bedding. She's shaking, just a little, thighs trembling as she's held firmly in place, for Lila to use as she wants - immediately, she tries to adjust. Jaw tight, but breathing in purposeful rhythm, deep and slow and controlled. Because this is familiar. If this is how Lila wants to play - she can adjust. She won't disappoint. Even as the slick drag against her makes her whine, makes her strain a little against the bindings - god, she wants her, she wants her, she wants her so badly. The wolf doesn't understand why it's been stopped, and as soon as she processes that question - as soon as she sees the invitation in Lila's exposed throat - she moves without thinking, opening her mouth and closing her jaws around it, the sharp teeth just barely pressing into her skin. Never enough to hurt her for real. Even like this, Mukuro can keep control of herself enough to make sure Lila is safe. But even wordless, it's a very clear answer. Yes, she can do what Lila wants. She's played like this before. With knives or just fangs like them, it's all the same.
The noise that comes out of her is somewhere between a whimper and a growl, soft pleading with sharp edges, doing all she can to communicate without needing to speak. She can, she can, she can be what Lila wants - she can be good but not boring, she can be gentle and still bite. Her shallow breath is hot and damp against Lila's skin - like Lila is against her - fuck, please, please, let her prove how good she can be.]
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[She could do it now — but not like this. Not underneath. It would have to look different. And the idea of it piques something curious and warm, more in her chest than between her legs, but she wants to be under Mukuro right now in a way she can't explain. She likes this. She likes her whole body being covered, she likes watching Mukuro restrain herself, she likes fur all over, making her skin prickle. Vulnerability has never felt good before Mukuro, she would never have bared her throat like this for anyone, but god it's hot like this, she doesn't know why and she can't explain.]
[Doesn't matter. Words don't matter. What matters is that Mukuro's teeth dig gently into her skin, the force of her jaw carefully locked and pressing down no further, and Lila's whole being shakes. Her hips judder out of rhythm, body clenching tight around nothing. She keens, a whine that dips and turns animal in a matter of seconds, looping back into a low, rough, rhythmic noise. Something like a purr, under Mukuro's panting tongue, inside the cage of her teeth, which will open anytime she asks it too.]
[But she doesn't ask. She likes it. She likes when Mukuro holds her down, because Mukuro will never, ever hurt her. It's safe. In a world where almost nothing is safe, this is.]
[Once the spasm of her hips still, she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and rocks down, trying to catch on Mukuro again. In the end she has to reach down between them, too, take her in hand and guide her back in place; but along the way she gets distracted, fingers running blindly along the length of her, drawing a map in her mind and just savoring. Eyes closed, head back, mouth open and drawing in sharp breath. Her thumb drags across the tip and her breath hitches. The shadows squeeze a little tighter around Mukuro's thighs before loosening, letting go.]
Fuck. You'd let me do that as long as I wanted, wouldn't you?
[It's not even a question. Mukuro would let her just use her and be done, she knows, she knows that, and as good as it feels, as tempting as it might be with someone else — no. At least not now. She sighs, soft and fluttering, and lines them back up, hooks her leg over Mukuro's back, but then she lingers. Feeling where they connect, fingertips dancing light and teasing around the very beginnings of the stretch. She can feel both of their heartbeats between her legs where they connect, very nearly in time.]
'M not worried about you hurting me.
[Her other hand drags absently up and down Mukuro's spine, claws out, digging gently. The other one, when she pulls it back, she taps on her jaws, asking to be let in — to give Mukuro her hand, her sticky fingertips, her everything.]
I want you to go in slow so I can feel — everything. All of you.
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The question-that-isn't is an acknowledgement. Lila knows that, that Mukuro's hers, after all. That Mukuro belonging to her means everything, means anything - anything Lila wants, Mukuro will accept. If Lila wanted to toy with her, spend ages tracing her new body and learning every inch, she would hold herself still, as long as it took. In the same way she'd accept it if Lila wanted to hurt her. But she doesn't. She doesn't, and that's part of why Mukuro wants so badly not to disappoint. If Lila is choosing to be kind - choosing to treat her almost like an equal - she wants to be worthy of it.
Lila's tough. Stronger than most people Mukuro's ever known. She's a fighter and she knows it, she doesn't need to be protected and treated gently. She'll survive, no matter what. Even with this, she knows what she wants and that she can take it. She's the one setting the pace. But she's also the one who keeps reacting so strongly when Mukuro bites. When she's marked, claimed, pinned. Despite everything she is - or maybe because of it - it feels good for her when Mukuro asserts herself too. No matter how clouded her mind might get - Mukuro will always, always be able to focus when it's for Lila.
So she waits, as Lila figures out what exactly she wants. She waits as Lila realigns them and braces herself, waits as Lila speaks to her, gently scratches along her spine. She only moves when Lila taps along her jaws, and then it's to very, very gently take Lila's wrist in one hand as she takes her fingers into her mouth. She looks back at her, a little hazily, but she's calmer than she expected to be, at this point. Because - this is still - like talking. Learning about each other, bit by bit. Being honest. Even if it can be nervewracking to be vulnerable, it's worth it. Even if the idea of disappointing her is terrifying, it doesn't feel like something she actually needs to worry about. She laps Lila's fingers clean in soft, slow strokes of her tongue, letting them hover on the edge of connection for just a moment longer - and when she does move, it's slowly, slowly, so Lila can feel everything. It's only one she's finished, that she slides her hand up from Lila's wrist to lace their fingers together and gently pin her hand down to the bed, that she manages to completely hilt inside her.]
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[And then, finally, she doesn't have to wait anymore.]
[Mukuro is so good for her. Somewhere amidst it all, with her head thrown back and her hair splayed messily across the pillows, she finds it in her to think that. How she only has to say something she wants once, and Mukuro's doing it and doing it perfectly, just because she wants to please. That's what this is. She asked for slow. She's getting it.]
[Actual thoughts are admittedly few and far between. As soon as she feels that first push, she shudders, loses track of her hands (one scrabbling hungrily at Mukuro's back, the other supported and limp by her jaws) as her whole self and all her perception narrows to hyperfocused sensations. Push, but gentle, slow. Her legs falling somehow further apart, craving more, the perfect angle. The growing sense of fullness as the seconds pass, something she's missed so badly that she has absolutely no control over the way her body squeezes gratitude around Mukuro, clutching and inviting and begging, like it would do anything to keep her from leaving now, and it probably would. Her eyes closed, chin tilted to the ceiling, she focuses on the feeling, on the shape, the same but different, and the different is good, the different is — quickening her pulse, actually. Yeah. Fuck.]
Fuck, [she breathes, and keeps saying it, fuck fuck fuck like a mantra in time with her heartbeat, only barely aware she's speaking. Pinned in her body, she feels more like herself, more alive, more real in this moment than she has since her first transformation, so connected and so wanted and so fucking deserving.]
[Mukuro's warm hand takes hers and pins it to the bed above her at the same time as Mukuro finally, finally stops moving. She can feel the way they fit together, the way Mukuro's hips press against the insides of her thighs, and then they shift slightly and the new angle has the base of her, lightly furry and searing warm, rubbing against her clit. She arches, pinned and full and smothered tip to toe, but keening, on the verge of losing control from sheer sensation.]
[She can lose control here. It feels — so safe. She could scream. She might, later. When she opens her eyes to look up at Mukuro, they're foggy with want and heavy with fondness. Every part of her body is tense, ready, except for her expression, which is more full of trust than Mukuro has ever seen. Than anyone has ever seen.]
You—
[She licks her dry lips, sucks in breath, looks for words. In the end, all she manages is what matters most.]
Feel perfect. So good, Muku. You're so good.
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