fe_male | memeboxing

[ They seriously are just totally allergic to the concept of saying things directly and straightforwardly, which makes it very much so for the best that they don't ever have to. With as much closeness as they have and as many tools for knowing what other people are and aren't saying, things can get noticed and stored half the time without them even noticing. Whether they ever consciously realize it perhaps doesn't even matter, in some ways.

She swallows down the noise she wants to make, thins the exchange of sensation between their minds a little at a time until it's lighter, enough to be there and pleasant but not as much of a spur towards this ending. There's a sense of loss with that, but at the same time she doesn't mind. The slower pace and the dragging it out means more time to look at him, at the strain of his muscles and the look in his eyes and the lines of his body. God, this moment should last forever. ]

[ Conscious, subconscious, unconscious - they tend to have a pretty good thing going on as long as some form of -scious is used. They're just that good.

Tony doesn't quite notice the thinning as much as she does, likely, because he's not as attuned to that aspect of it. He is, instead, trying to not focus on all the messages his body is sending him. Sight on alert, touch electric with stimulation to the point where he feels like he's practically buzzing even in areas she has yet to touch, hearing catching that swallowed sound regardless of her efforts, every single hitched or halting breath ringing true in his ears. It's not that he's in any danger of overload, this is just how they were supposed to be used, in his opinion. He can't help the alert state of them, but he can appreciate it while it's there. Unfortunately, it does mean that it's harder to concentrate on those chemical reactions. Perhaps the mental bond between them was actually serving a purpose. Without that to also concentrate on, as unhelpful as it was, there's little else but the sensate and senseful.

Not that he minds. Just that it means even despite their efforts to drag this out as long as possible, as long as possible isn't going to be that much longer. ]

[ If there's one really good way to use his senses, she's pretty sure this is it. Even through the slightly lessened link she can feel a little bit of how they feel, of the extra sensation they allow. She can only compare it to what an empathic feedback loop gives her in terms of pleasure, and anything that can be compared to that feels pretty damn good.

It isn't going to be able to, and she knows that, can feel herself so close, the urge to speed up again that she's barely tamping back, the crush of sensation as her breath stutters and stumbles it's way out. She can't hold herself back almost any longer, she thinks. Though that will mean she can keep a slower pace for him without having to exert all her self control to not try for more. ]

[ He's actually pretty well in agreement too, so at least everybody's on the same page here. The empathic loop from this side was pretty fucking great. Hopefully she can pull something out of how pleasantly overwhelmed he's starting to become and accidentally broadcast that's remotely equivalent to what he got out of her own loop. Or at least, the makings of one.

See, and it's weird, that it's also the sheer force of will he can imagine is required to maintain such control that contributes to issues, that it's that too that feels like it speeds things up for him. And he has a moment, of looking at her, where he can tell, and communicate mentally, ocularly, whatever works, that he's effectively all but finished, so she ought to get what she needs now or be ready to uncuff him after he is. It's all beautiful, and it's been amazing, but he just can't hold it back. Not that that's bad either, really, just... She seems quite committed now as well - it seems like a nice thing to do, to warn her. If it even works. ]

[ She can, and there's still a small remnant of the loop left, more than enough for her when a not insignificant part of her is still used to nothing in that area.

They have rather strong effects on each other, in general, and god that look in his eyes and that sense from his mind when put together with this moment, it's too much or it's just enough. She shifts angles just a little, hits the angle that's perfect for her and lets the sensation overwhelm her, closes her eyes as every muscle in her body in her body tightens around him, her hands reaching to grasp his shoulders tightly for support as she shudders, mumbling something unintelligible. ]

[ Oh thank fucking god; he didn't have a problem helping her along after he finished, but he's so tired now he'd just honestly prefer not to have to, and the way she clenches down, the feeling he can feel radiating from her, sheer completion, her hands on his shoulders for stability and support, whatever she's saying to him, he can't hear it well enough beyond the force of his own finishing, finally letting himself go as she's done and doing right now all around him, and he similarly tenses, another creak to the bed as his arms try to pull down towards himself, flexing and straining to match her own tightening and going taut. His eyes are closed, and he doesn't really remember how that happened, and he's breathing a bit heavier around and into the gag, because what else does he have to do. ]

[ About half of it's just swearing anyways, the other half his name and encouragement mixed in, mostly in sentences that have no grammatical structure. She lets the loop between them open back up fully, because there's no point in holding back now, lets their sensations filter back and forth between each other and intertwine until there's a moment she can hardly tell what she's feeling from where.

If this feeling could stay forever that would be ideal, but like all good things it can't. When she comes back to herself it's slowly and she stays where she is for the moment, looks down at him and lets her eyes trace everything she can see of him, every bit of him in this moment so that she can snapshot it for later. ]

[ Swearing is fine. He likes swearing. He's in too many of the public's eyes to do a whole lot of it, since, okay, yeah, little kids, he's not all touchy-feely but he does have a soft spot for children and their right to keep their innocence, even if most of the time he's still terrible at it. At some point you realize it's just easier to find more creative ways to vent frustration. Like, blowing up your living room. Creative!

Tony takes a little bit longer - his hit just after, he's quite involved in the physical sensations when it happens and that always tends to do something funny to the actual reaction times, chemically and physically, whatever reason - but he returns similarly slowly, looking back at her with increasing clarity over a period of a minute or so. His heart isn't still racing but it's faster, there's a sheen to his skin that wasn't there when they got started with all of this, and he appears much more calm and relaxed, at least in this moment. It's unlikely that some of the previous stress won't return, but right now, right here, he's not as concerned with it. ]

[ That's - creative, yes, sure. In a not actually that great way though. Or at least a very nonproductive way.

That's all good, it's all very good and about what she was aiming for, which is nice. Good to know she got things fairly right, good to know that he's a little more relaxed. That she eased some of it, at least temporarily. She leans down, slips the knot of the tie and tosses it aside, presses her lips to his for a lingering moment. ] Better now? [ It's hushed, looking to keep the moment more or less intact. ]

[ creativity is no guarantee of productivity. in fact, frequently the opposite

Quite right. She usually does though - he manages to have an odd sense of both surprise and a total lack of the same. She's close again, warm against his own warmth, and then kissing, and he lets his eyes slide shut to appreciate it, he's tired, and she's perfect, and he wants to remember it. Her words are warm when they hit his skin and patter across his face, and he has the hints of a smile behind his lips. ] Better. [ Similarly low, quiet, husky, not breaking the moment. ]

[ When an empath genuinely likes someone it's remarkable how spot on their reading of that person and what they need becomes. And she really genuinely likes him a great deal. That brings a faint smile to her own lips, still almost against his, and she lifts one hand to retrieve the key from the bedpost and unlock one hand, rubbing his wrist gently. He'd been pulling pretty hard at times. ] You can always tell me. [ Still just as quiet. ] Whatever you need.

[ This is a very good point. Just, understanding people, it's almost anathema to him sometimes. There are aspects of people he actually understands very well, but anything involving sadness or gravitas or personal history and he has no idea what to say to comfort them or anything of the sort. Which is a large part of interacting with people, sadly.

Wow, yeah, he had been, he hadn't really been paying attention, kind of surprising, and he turns to look over at what she's doing for a moment. He's going to have some interesting bruises. ] Because I totally knew this was a thing I needed.

[ It really is. It's probably for the best he's currently wound up with her, because when it comes to things involving personal history she doesn't really want comforting most of the time, or at least anything extending past a physical presence and mutual agreement to pretend everything's okay.

He's going to have some very interesting bruises, and on his neck as well, but she's good at using makeup to cover injuries if he needs any help with that. ] Even if you don't know what you need. [ A faint smile, just a twitch of the edges of her mouth as she moves to his other hand, releases it too and looks down at him from his side. ] Whatever.

[ Yeahhhh, he's quite wound up around her at the moment; it's helpful. He's focusing on her, and himself, and how he interacts with her and whatever she wants, really, he doesn't care. (Pliable, remember?) But he looks back at her face as she moves from one wrist to the other, looking back at her in return. Her face, breathing carefully. Pause. Considering. ]

What if it's more?

[ He really is remarkably pliable and she's not sure what to do with that entirely right now except stay close, listen to him, stay open and accessible. She wraps his hands in hers, looks down and watches him carefully. He's talking to her, now, of his own free will. She doesn't try to keep back the soft smile on her face, because it's not really victory she's smiling about, it's him being willing to talk to her. Which is a victory, but that's not the point. ]

Anything, Tony.

[ It's cool, because in a little while he's going to notice and feel weird about it and probably rein it in. Like, a lot. He was being a total dick like. Not that long ago. It won't be that hard to slip back into it - the outfit is still warm. He's already picking up on all this careful observation and getting torn between look-at-me and look-anywhere-else. It's not that difficult to work out which one is the natural inclination, but there's a lot of the unnatural about Tony Stark most of the time.

So there's another pause, because sure, he's talking, but that still doesn't mean he actually knows what to say. ] It's just the time of year, or something. Some stuff came up, some stuff came back. [ Wasn't dealt with properly in the first place. You know. ]

[ She's been kind of expecting that for a while, really, counting each moment it doesn't come as a win. Temporary successes are still successes, she doesn't expect miracles here. That would be unrealistic, and if there's something she's trained herself into being best it's pragmatic. But she's still going to watch him, because even if he's more guarded again now it's still easier to tell things than usual.

She does know, and she puts her hand on his shoulder, runs her thumb slowly up and down. ] Stuff does that. Takes a while to get used to it. [ She's not entirely sure you ever do get used to it. More used to it, she guesses. That's accurate. ]

Yeah.

[ She is remarkably pragmatic it's kind of impressive. And a good balance for someone who tends to manage walking some sort of balance between darkly optimistic pessimism and blindingly pessimistic optimism. But for the moment he's just working out when it's okay to start being an asshole again (he suspects 'never' is probably the answer but that seems like a really long time in his opinion) and how much he actually feels like being one right now (which is 'not much' but it isn't as though Tony isn't known for being mercurial or anything). ] Did you get enough out of that? [ no not the like, not, well ] I mean, the - context. [ all that context. and sort of an attempt at levity, which doesn't really work in this situation. ] Because I'm not explaining it again.

[ Turns out idealism is really just being a total idiot sometimes, particularly when it comes to the sort of situation she wound up in. She mostly just thinks she was lucky she learned pragmatism fast enough that her idealism didn't wind up killing her. ] I got enough. [ She tucks her knees up to her chest, puts her chin on her knees and watches him, pressed against his side a little. Never is accurate, yeah, she may understand the instinct and where it comes from better but being an asshole still isn't an answer to the problem. She's not okay with that part. ] No need to re-explain anything. I'm a fast learner.

[ He nods a little bit, because cool, good, he really didn't want to have to ... do all that again. Like, at all. And he shifts, because this whole just looking at each other - they need to do something else. Hug, sleep, leave, something, although he can't tell if he wants to sleep on her, close together, held in her arms, or let her just sleep on him from this position here, holding her like he's worried she'll go somewhere. Supposing she even does want to. Sleep, that is. Feel protected. Feel in control. Is control really the issue? It's definitely part of it. And then how about protection? Probably somehow a larger part. Just the way things happened. ] You are. A fast learner.

[ She ducks her head a little bit at that shift, looks down instead of at him for a moment because this is the part that winds up feeling kind of awkward to her, because after that much intimacy there's still a part of her that wants to recoil from it, that's still scared of what the consequences could be. Scared of that level of emotional closeness. She runs a hand over her face, trying to push back the feeling of exposure, glances back at him. ] Was there something you needed to be doing? [ A beat, and she shrugs a little bit as if it's not important at all, as if this is all totally normal, everything that's just happened and everything they've talked about. ] I'm tired, I might just go to sleep.

[ His hands, which had been settling on her thighs since they both finished, a relatively safe place to leave them, tighten on her as she mentions leaving to sleep, because, okay, yes, he has been pulling away, but that doesn't mean he wants her to. After that much vulnerability, if the next step is abandonment, or anything that isn't really just chilling out together, maybe sleeping all close to one another, he won't handle it well. Because then, it feels like appeasement. Here, that's what you needed, now I'll go. And that's not what Tony's looking for. ]

You could sleep here? [ Which comes out far more pleading than he meant for it to but hits a better accuracy despite him anyway. ]

[ She covers his hands with hers, a silent reassurance as she carefully figures her way through this. Personally she'd prefer to stay, because sleeping with him (in the actually sleeping sense, in this case) is relaxing. Because she likes the reassurance and the comfort and she likes him being close. She's just not sure what he wants. Or wasn't sure, because that tone makes it a lot more clear, brings a tiny smile to the edges of her mouth. ] I could. That would be nice. I thought maybe you - [ wouldn't want to stay with her, would want to just put this away and pretend it hadn't happened, would need space to himself. ] Would need to do something else.

[ The hands, those are fine, and he's not actually going to really do anything about it, aside from considering looking away again, but that just sort of looks like amusement on her part. There's not really any particular reason, it just. Does. He doesn't want her to leave, but he doesn't really feel like there's an aspect of this that's all that amusing. But he'd rather she not leave right now more than anything else. ] Think I just got everything I needed. Big bed, c'mon.

[ She promises it's not amusement at all, just being pleased that he'd like her to stay. And happiness that he said everything he needed, and a lot of slightly confused emotions here that she's not entirely sure how to quantify for herself, much less for him. ] It is a big bed. [ Because that is far easier to say than anything that really addresses anything. She slides to lie down curled close against his side, one leg hitched over his as if to make sure he's not going anywhere. ] 'm glad you're here.

see? totally reassuring instead of disappointing

'totally'

yes totally. /for sure/

uh huh

;; someday you will believe me when i say things

somedaaaaaaaaaaaay, over the raaaaainbowww

just you waaaait

i have to go back further for the subject line conversation than the actual tags to get context now

lakhdf 8D look at these great life choices we make

i question the words 'great', 'life', and 'choices' in that sentence

that's like the entire point of the sentence you're questioning there

oops?

oops is for accidents you totally didn't disagree on accident

what. wait, what.

i'm no longer sure

i'm glad that makes two of us

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