fe_male | memeboxing

[ She lets him shift his arm some, trying to keep it from being more than a little uncomfortable, then lets go once they reach the bedroom, turning around to close the door behind them before she circles around to face him, reaching out to slide her fingers roughly down the side of his jaw as she watches him intently, steadier by the moment. ] Raise your arms. Normal safeword? [ Just to be certain. ]

[ He rotates his shoulder a little bit, testing it - she'd been stretching it, holding it back there like that, which wasn't unpleasant but wasn't really all that helpful either way. The commands... He questions them, but whether it was the careful look in her eye, or the rough touch of her hand at his jaw, he feels inclined to oblige, slowly lifting both arms simultaneously over his head. Depending on what she does, this bares his torso, eventually, and he can't say he's not excited by the prospect.

In regards to the last question. ] Yes. [ He could have nodded, could have done anything, but he chose to say it. What will you do with that, Max? ]

[ She slides her hands under his shirt, lightly sliding over skin for a moment before she starts to pull the shirt up and over his head. Arms up like that can get genuinely uncomfortable quickly, and she's going to avoid that for the moment after having force marched him in here.

But oh, that's definitely not allowed. She tosses the shirt aside, slides a hand into his hair and tugs backwards as she leans forward, close as she can without touching. ] You may lower your arms, slowly. Did I say you could talk? [ She knows it was on purpose, knows he's pushing. It's strange, the conflicting feelings she has from that, because at once she's so very okay with him pushing but wants to make him do what she says. ]

[ At least, though, when he does listen, he listens fairly well; his arms very slowly and steadily fall back down to rest at his sides as he otherwise stays quite still apart from the way his adam's apple shifts when he swallows against the tightness in his throat at his head being pulled back. There are a few points on the ceiling where there isn't really anything to look at but are where his gaze bounces back and forth between regardless. He doesn't respond to the question, whether by talking or humming some sort of acknowledgement, just waits for whatever she decides to do next. ]

[ She gives a short nod of approval at his arms, but the majority of her attention stays on watching his face, waiting for him to answer. At the least he doesn't start talking again, but she studies him for a moment regardless, waiting to see if there's going to be any response. A question asked deserves some kind of answer, but he's still being stubborn and she still craves the fight that gives her. She breathes out, slides her hand out of his hair and cups it on the back of his neck for a moment before taking a step back. ] Get down on your knees. [ In one respect a temporary measure so that she can get things she needs to get and clarify plans in her head beyond the initial tumult of desire and frustration. On another level, she wants to see this, wants to see him do this for her, and there's a quiet need in her own eyes, buried as well as she can. ]

[ No, you don't get a response because he feels like going all out. Talking isn't limited to speech - there's a whole area of communication that is facial expression, body language, etc. Knock one, knock them all. So he remains unresponsive while she studies him, letting his head come down a little bit with her palm on the back of his neck, and then down to a normal tilt when she steps back, appraising him.

That command - that's not one she's given him before. Highly symbolic, to have a half naked man kneeling in front of you, silently. It's not really so much a matter of trust - it can't be, because he trusts her implicitly, to the point where he doesn't even remember when that was a thing that was happening, that level of trust. On the other, they're both still clearly getting something out of this bickering back and forth, and while on one hand he does want to obey and sink to the floor, on the other, he still wants to push, still wants to know what she'll do if he doesn't.

So he slowly - looking at her the whole time - slides down. To one knee. If she simply stands there, continuing to stare at him for too long, he'll fully comply, because he does want things to keep moving forward, but he's fishing for a reaction until she makes it clear she won't be giving him one. ]

[ She doesn't know what to make of that yet, to be honest. It's not like him to be this unresponsive, and she's not sure what to chalk it up to. That it's him taking her extremely seriously hasn't even crossed her mind yet, and probably won't for a while yet.

Fairly symbolic, yes, but she's not really thinking of that. She's thinking of the way he's watching her right now, the fact that he's sliding down the way she asked, her breath pushed out like she feels it physically, and she does. To one knee, though, which has entirely different connotations, and she narrows her eyes because even just the visual is somewhat unsettling. ] I'm keeping track of when you don't listen to me, Tony. [ She watches him carefully until he does comply and then she turns her back on him to go to the closet, retrieve a few things and put them on the bedside table before walking back to him, circling until she's standing behind him, out of his range of vision, fingers light on the nape of his neck and trailing down his spine. ]

[ It's okay, he'll be responsive soon enough. Probably quite responsive, actually. You can take part of his lack of such until this point to be frustration, and part to be stubbornness when he knows he won't be able to be so restrained later on.

Also wow so not the symbolic I was thinking of when I put him on one knee. It was meant to be like, kneeling with the ability to stand right back up, not... any sort of proposal mimickry. But he does eventually shift down, kneeling as she originally asked, looking up at her. He watches her go to the closet, tries to see what it is she's brought back out with her - mostly unsuccessfully for the moment - and disappear behind him again.

The light touch startles him just a little bit, although he does a decent job stifling the reaction - the flinch. The goosebumps that break across, mild and fleeting as they are, are more difficult to control. ]

[ There are only so many ways to go down on one knee, but it's all remedied now and he's watching her, which is a strangely nice feeling. She can feel his eyes on her until she circles back, and then she's watching him, carefully, looking for every reaction. The goosebumps, the tiny movement of muscles - it's all in response to her hand on him, and it's wonderful. ]

You can stand up now. [ Soft and precise, hand still on him. She needs him somewhere else and a little more naked, now, even if she thinks she could probably watch him like this for a long time. Maybe some other time, when she has more patience and less need. ]

[ He doesn't entirely mind being on his knees in front of her, not as much as one might think he would, at least. But nothing happened, just there. This is like church or something, the handful of times he remembers having gone as a child - kneel, stand, sit, stand, kneel, sit, kneel, yeah Jesus aerobics. So that's hesitation - and maybe part of that is the sudden softness in her tone, in her touch, because Tony knows what to do with rough and harsh, but isn't nearly as well-equipped to handle understanding and gentility.

But it's not a long hesitation regardless, and then he's standing back up, unsure of whether he can actually turn around to look at her, and thus getting halfway through a glance back over his shoulder before aborting the movement. He wants to ask her what she wants him to do now, already, itching for something to do, to obey or fight against, and his eyes focus on one thing for a split second before unfocusing and landing somewhere else. In similar fashion, he's at the very least moving his mouth again, bit by bit; licking his lips, pulling the lower one in to bite for a moment, then the upper for symmetry's sake. Regardless, he wants her to move on to the next aspect of all of this quickly. ]

[ An exercise in obedience for the moment, mostly, though perhaps some other time it will be more than simply that. For right now, it's not enough. Not enough for either of them, she suspects, and she can feel his impatience under his skin, see it in that curbed half glance back. She waits until he's up and then moves back to face him, her hand trailing over his skin with her half circle until it's on his chest, and then she takes it off and takes a step back. ]

Take off your pants and lie down on the bed. [ Still quiet, like some part of her is convinced she can break this moment by pushing too hard, but there's a confidence and surety to it regardless. This is a balance, and the more they work at achieving it, the more they push and pull at each other, the more relief she feels. ]

[ He's quite impatient. More so the longer she continues to not do things, use gentle touches and soft words, and it's a little difficult to not lean too much into her hand as it slides over him, or follow it when she actually pulls away entirely. As soon as she's back in his field of vision, he's watching her again - he doesn't particularly have anything else to do and right now she is everything that's possibly interesting at all.

But okay, that's some kind of progress. Not particularly something he questions even without all the context happening right now around it, although he's still trying to work out how he feels about listening to her. Right now it's coming down to the question of saving it for later and capitulating to the point where later doesn't get too much of a chance to happen. But either way. He starts at the button and zipper without dropping his gaze, only does so when he needs to bend a little bit to push them down and step out of them before moving to lie down. Well, lean back. She hasn't said how she wants him to do it, and there's more challenge in the way he can lean back on his elbows and look at her again. ]

[ She likes his attention fixed on her, the attentiveness in his gaze. A power thing, she guesses, and frankly she'd never considered this particular method of sex in general before him and hadn't ever thought it would be something she'd enjoy, but. Well.

In her turn she watches him the entire time, not trying at all to hide her deliberate appraisal of him. It's not like she hasn't seen it all before. The leaning back gains him only her moving to the bed to bend over and plant her fingers in a circle around the reactor, pushing him backwards. ] Lying down, in the middle. [ If he's watching her, she's still watching back just as intently, and her voice has lost the softness to it, her fingers as they slide down his chest losing the gentleness despite lingering on him. ]

[ Hands splayed around the reactor evokes eyes a little wider than he'd want them to be. Normally he's okay with it, but occasionally, just the certain aspect, something different, a specific thing he can't quite identify, will come into play, and he needs a moment to chill out. Hands around the reactor makes him think about people trying to remove it, and he falls back flat onto the bed fairly easily, masking his expression even as he goes.

Momentary wigging aside, lying flat is okay, when she's leaning over him like that. He just wants to keep watching her, really, and with their respective positions, he can do that from where she wants, so there's little reason to not do as she says. His eye contact, does, though, remain intact for the most part, even while her fingers slide down his chest and his lips part just so incrementally for the reaction. ]

[ Normally she wouldn't touch it in this context, because of all the connotations she knows it comes with, but today she's just reckless enough, just on edge enough to find those wide eyes satisfying. She does at least think enough to move her hand quickly, give it the space again to let him chill out. She watches him for a long moment as she bends over him, one knee on the bed between his legs for support, and then leans down to whisper in his ear. ]

Do you trust me? [ An answer that she knows, but she wants to ask it regardless, wants to see how he'll choose to answer right now. Her free hand is on his arm, sliding it up the bed over his head, at an angle. ]

[ He's not sure what to make of her reaction to his own reaction. He does trust her - even if in a moment he won't be entirely sure how to say that without talking, and may or may not forget that he can't; I haven't decided yet - but that's something that so very quickly became a very sensitive issue and so few others even know what it means, that light in his chest, much less have access to it, and his experience with sharing is limited at best anyway.

So for a moment he drags his arm against her, watching her still - he usually watches people (well, sort of), it's just not normally this apparent, because he usually watches them while watching one of any number of other things at the same time. Having this much of his attention at a single point is rare. For a moment, he does that. But she asks the question, and he almost immediately starts to answer her, because regardless, he does trust her, and that's weird and that's scary but it's almost as implicit and deep as the issues in his heart, which is itself weird and scary and he reacts instinctively because thinking about it at all is dangerous. But he can't answer her, not like that, not verbally, and he clamps down on the word, licks his lips for a moment to reconsider, and then moves his arm with her, where he thinks she's going with it. ]

[ Having this much of his attention at a single point, a single point that's her, is sending a small shiver up her spine. She's not sure if she thinks it's perfect or if part of her still finds such attention dangerous. Maybe both at once, really. Maybe.

She's watching him carefully for his answer, sees that momentary hesitation and waits for him, watching. Categorizing every motion he makes, the shifts in expression of his face. And then he moves with her and she nods at him. ] Okay. Thank you. [ Trust is a precious and rare commodity, and being reminded that she has his - it's enough to keep her a little more steady, more sure that what she's doing here is for their pleasure as well as simply their release.

She watches him carefully, moves to his other side as she plants a knee between his legs and nudges them open. If he'll let her, she'll manuever him spread eagled, not restrained yet, constantly glancing at him to assess whether or not he remains okay with her movements. ]

[ He nods a little at her thank you, but he's dropped his gaze to look at some other random point in the room and the nod may or may not be for her as a result. It probably is though; he's not in the habit of just nodding to himself.

The lack of restraints so far is a little curious, just telling him to keep his arms where she placed them by unspoken direction. He lets her nudge his legs apart, placing all of his limbs the way she would like, trying to work out what she's doing and watching not her face - not anymore - but her own hands, the way she's choosing to interact with him, the way her wrists disappear up into her sleeves and how many clothes she has on. He's a little chilly though, himself. Maybe she's also cold - he tends to run a bit hotter than she does. ]

[ Her touch is sure and swift, not heavy but no room left for gentleness in it right now except in the brief moments she brushes her hands across his bare skin in transit to some other part of his body, until eventually they wind up resting on his thighs as she watches him. Her own clothes aren't on her mind at all, irrelevant to what she's thinking of and looking at, and after a long moment of weighing him in her gaze she rolls off the bed, retrieves the restraints she'd put down earlier.

She'd considered leaving him unbound, letting whether she touched him or not remain dependent on whether he could keep himself as she wanted him, but that she thinks she'll save for another time, after she's experimented further and finetuned how far she can push him. Two fingers slide down his chest, almost all the way his cock, and then she slides them back up and starts securing his wrists. ]

[ Honestly, he appreciates them, because he would so not be able to just keep himself in place like that yet. That would... require a lot more training, and they haven't done this often enough for that sort of thing to sink in. Right now, all that would do is mean he'd move out of instinct, then be punished, replaced to the former position, get frustrated, move, replace - really, it would get repetitive very quickly.

The moment there before she gets up is kind of nice though. He's not sure why, but the contrast between them - fully in control, fully not; fully clothed, fully not; fully knowing, fully not - he liked that moment. The way she touches him like he's something to be revered - and on a normal day he'll totally agree with you, but literally stripped down, even figuratively stripped down, to his component aspects, he's not so sure.

That said, he does like it when she comes back with actual restraints. A trail of tensing muscle follows just under her fingers, a twitch at the end of her journey downwards, before she moves back up again, and he tilts his head to watch her work. ]

[ She'll hold dreams of someday that being something that can work.

He is something to be revered, to her. Even tired and holding things she'd rather not under her skin, Tony is a constant that she always finds herself circling back towards. She looks at him and she sees the damage, of course. How can she not? But the measure of a person is never in the damage they've taken, but in the manner in which they've moved past it. He took everything he went through and he turned it into Iron Man. Turned himself into a symbol and a hero and saved the world, and she looks at him and she sees someone strong and brave and she doesn't think she ever did anything right enough to deserve him.

She sees that head tilt, brushes a thumb across his lips for a moment with a tiny secret smile and then finishes securing his wrists and ankles, checks to be certain there's no change of damage to him before sitting down on the bed beside him, hand on his chest. ] Don't come until I say you can. [ Watching him steadily to make sure the instructions are understood. ]

[ He'll hold off on his thoughts to that, for one because this isn't a conversation they're actually sharing, for two, because he's not allowed to talk, and for three, the idea of her getting him all tied down and then making him listen to compliments is... He has defenses for criticism, but he can be cut to the bone by a compliment on a slice of paper if wielded by the right person, and few are more right than she.

For a moment he considers taking that thumb into his mouth, showing her what he can do with it, anything to speed things up a little, but he doesn't, lets her return to her work and surreptitiously checks each one afterward. Usually it's just his arms tied down, so he's building anticipation as to what she has planned. The directive is easily given, but will likely be difficult to actually ... not follow through with? Follow through with? Obey. So he swallows once, nods once, and wonders just what she got out while he wasn't looking. ]

[ She's really quite surprised at how well he's adhering to the no talking rule so far, but she has her ways of making that harder and eventually she plans on putting it more thoroughly to the test. Or just overall throughout the course of this.

He can probably do fantastic things with that thumb, but it might have slowed things down more than sped them up. She's contrary like that, particularly right now, and it's her professional opinion that the slower the build the sweeter the payoff. As for the difficulty of obeying that order, well, she'll help ensure that he does. For now, though, she just hums a little bit and runs fingers up and down his chest, across areas she knows are ticklish, before sliding herself to kneel inbetween his legs and trail her hands up them, still watching him steadily. ]

[ Yeah, don't worry about how well he's done with that part so far, because it just means he's wasting all his willpower on not saying anything before she's even gotten started.

She'll probably wind up going very slowly at some point. Tony's far more of the mind that instant gratification is the best kind of gratification, possibly even the only kind of gratification, because anything that takes longer than that belabors the point and takes away from the satisfaction. The kind of satisfaction she's totally apparently not intent on giving out anyway, based on the movement of her hands, and he narrows his eyes and tenses against the sensation, because he doesn't want to laugh right now, thanks, that's so the wrong thing. At least it gives him a good reason to check those restraints, carefully pulling against each one in turn, not too noticeably. Sort of. ]

[ Misappropriated those particular resources, Tony.

She almost definitely will, because the point is definitely not listening to what he wants, or says he wants, and instant gratification is definitely not on the list. One hand drifts down to his right ankle when he shifts against it, watching him as she stills until he's still again in turn and she can turn her attention and her hands back to his thighs, leaning down to follow the path of them with her mouth, carefully avoiding any direct contact with particularly nerve filled areas, just the sensitive skin around them. ]

tony cast as angry fourteen year old girl

okay now r00d

but is it inaccurate

not according to his proclivity for emoticons and blingee

lmao yes i'm totally right

as per usual

that is sweet of you but inaccurate

pffffffffffffffffffft

pffffffffffft back

so creative

that was an entirely dignified and polite way of pointing out that you were still being inaccurate

uh huh

your disbelief of the things i say is so hurtful

yeah well

yeah /well/

super original

you're so mean

sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet

i did not think calling you mean was very sweet but i will accept this change of definitions

oh har di har

asldkf sorry sorry

uh huh

;; you never believe me

because you lieeeeeee

i can't actually argue against that point