vecna | ☣️ midwestern mayhem inbox.

Yes. It looks good with my complexion.

Really? I’d love to see that for myself.

[Excuse enough to lean in and place a generous kiss on her lips. No matter if she’s already “wearing” another color. Just one more to layer on.

Pulls back when he’s done, and—]

You’re right. It’s beautiful on you, too. But I’m biased.

[ oh, he's got her number. eyes closed, lips parted when he draws away, and in her chest, a drumbeat that could drown out armies. how incredibly trite. and how incredibly effective. ]

I told you.

We’ll have to hold onto that one.

[The lipstick, he means, though at this point they might just hold onto every color, because why not?]

Now where were we? [Nuzzles into her neck, and he thinks he can feel her pulse there. Murmurs—] Would you like to lie down?

[ FLOPS BACK WITH A SLOW, LOW LAUGH ]

I would.

[IMMEDIATELY ON TOP OF HER, hands still diving into her open shirt, groping at her chest and pushing her bosom together to create that wonderful swell of cleavage.

To give it one more lingering kiss. Mwah. The perfect imprint of his lips there, as long as he keeps her pressed together.]

I can feel your heartbeat. Someone’s excited.

[ there's a thrill in the juvenile, isn't there? and she loves how she feels when he's crawling into her space and touching her, so that eager heartbeat quickens some more. fills her with this giddy, tingling sensation. she loves that, too! in her fingers and all beneath the surface of his skin wherever his hands and lips brush over.

arches her back lazily, hands up above her head as if she's stretching and nothing more. but really, she's enjoying the skin on skin, and the sight of her breasts becoming littered with kiss marks. ]

I want you very badly.

[There will always be a thrill in the juvenile for Henry, who never really got a chance to be juvenile in this way. All these feelings, repressed and uninterested before, now are spilling forward like a fount in her presence. It's exciting, giddying, and yes, juvenile in the best way.

The line of her, too, is always so appealing. That long plane of exposed skin and the soft but full mounds of her breasts on display, and the dark marks of lipstick already mottling the places where he loves to put his mouth the most. (Everywhere, but right now, her chest is amassing quite a collection.)

He trails his kisses lower, down through her cleavage, lifting her breasts just high enough to leave a few along their undersides. A rustle of sheets as he has to scoot down lower to tease his lips at her stomach, instead.]

How badly?

Very.

[ a whiny note. and she's not embarrassed by that, either. brings her legs up to bracket him as he moves lower, but, actually... don't go too far yet. she sinks her hands into his hair and tugs him back to her chest. ]

Will you be stern with me?

[He thinks of faux-pouting, but he can't even bring himself to pretend at being displeased as she draws him back up to her chest. Lowers himself so that his lips brush against her as he speaks, leaving messy smears across her bosom near a nipple.]

Oh? Are you thinking of misbehaving, Sprezzatura?

[Not that this changes his answer at all: yes.]

I always am impeccably behaved. I just want you to be.

[ don't make her think about it! ]

Impeccably behaved... [Hm, doubt. But in the fondest way possible.] Well. If you say so. I'll just make sure you stay that way.

[Props up on an elbow just long enough to gaze at her; to look her up and down, considering.]

Take your shirt off for me.

[Fully.]

Only my blouse?

Just for now. Or are you getting impatient already?

[ popping buttons ]

I am impatient always.

[It takes a not insignificant effort to look only at her face when she starts unbuttoning her blouse, and an actual cognizant effort to raise himself up just enough to speak hushed in her ear.]

Don't worry. We'll have you naked and writhing beneath me before we're done here.

[ with a twinge of personal pride, that she can encourage this attitude in him, and oh, how she benefits from that. abandons her blouse to cup his nape and run her nails' edges over his skin. ]

Oh. Sweet promises. You are doing very well for me, Henry.

[ as though he, not she, is the one who must impress ]

[Warm, and at least halfway exposed, it compels Henry to lay himself on top of her just enough to feel the pressure of their bodies seamed together — and as always, her warmth, felt through even his clothing.

The not-quite-string of her nails are proving to always be a pleasant feeling. He can unpack that later. For now, his hands rove back up her sides, one of them meandering so high as to thread his fingers through her hair.]

You're the one who's supposed to behave and be good for me, Sprezzatura.

[ well that's too bad because she's immediately

KOALAING ONTO HIM

arms and legs around, that blessed weight and warmth and closeness that she adores. ]

I am behaving very well! I have been saying this!

[KOALA’D

Which means he has no recourse but to lie there, pressed against her, as her limbs allow so very little else.]

Are you? [Scoffs, light.] And how am I supposed to kiss you all over if you’re clinging to me like this?

I don't know. How are you?

[ murmured into his hair ]

I could ask nicely...

[Kisses the part of her easiest to access right now: her neck, where he can feel her pulse beneath his lips.]

But you did ask me to be stern. So maybe not so nicely, hm?

[And just like that, ghost-like, the invisible touch of his powers again, feeling like little more than hands encircling her wrists. Simply present for now, and not pulling.]

[ starts to wiggle in time with the uptick of her pulse, throbbing there in her throat. and other places. ]

And once you've done that, what then?

[And other places.

To be fair, him too.]

If you don’t let go, you’re about to find out.

[ well. she snuggles on tighter, likely to no surprise of Henry's. soft laughter near his ear, causing her breast to rise and fall and her stomach to tense. the heels of her feet bounce gently off his clothed backside: one foot, then the other, then the first, then the second, then again.

there is no fear anymore.

so... maybe it was love. a devouring kind of love in more ways than the obvious, when she'd slid him down her gullet. ]

But I like to hold you.

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