abnormalizes | Seasons: IC Contact/Continuations

[Sometimes words are hard. She gets that. Evangeline kisses him back just as intensely, her emotions swelling up in her heart to answer his.

I've got you. It's okay. I love you. I love you. If she kisses him deeply enough, she can surely express those feelings.]

[If that's the energy she's putting in, then this is one hell of a kiss she'll be getting from him -
Even with his issues parsing things like feelings, he can tell there's something there. Something warm and fierce that he can't help but to chase for more of, one arm sweeping underneath her to pull her up close against him.

Returning it all with something molten and unrelenting, heated and roiling in ways even the amulet around his neck can't quite give him the words for.]

[Evangeline has had deep kisses before. She would go so far as to say that she's had a lot of them. She's kissed people while scrambling to get their clothes off of them without being willing to stop kissing them even for a moment.

This feels different. Something that makes her heart pound for reasons entirely unrelated to physical desire. Even if the physical motions are the same, the emotions welling up in her are new and unfamiliar, and she wants more of them.

She presses as close as she can to him as she kisses back, like maybe she could sink into him if she just tried hard enough. Like she could attach herself and he could never be taken away from her.]

[It's almost comical how hard he chases into the depth of that kiss, as if the threat of bruised lips and nicks from teeth aren't something there to worry about. He can't really help it -
He's never been kissed like this before, he doesn't want to even entertain the idea of letting it end.

So he doesn't.

He can tell he needs this. The kiss, yes, but more than that. The company. The warmth. Evangeline.
Far be it from him not to move his other other arm to the bedding, forearm braced beside her head and hemming her in close - like he's tucking her up and hiding her from everyone else all at the same time.]

[In this moment, she is walled off from the world. She is safe here - no pain, or fear, or loss can reach her. She doesn't need to worry about danger. All that she needs to do is kiss Chipp back as hard as she possibly can. If her lips bruise, so be it.

She reaches for the hand braced beside her, the bruised and scarred one, and interlaces their fingers together tightly. Holding on like she never wants to let him go, because she doesn't.]

[Her hand finds his, laces with it, and he doesn't even hesitate to return it. It's a simple gesture, but right now, it means more than he could say.

With that hand taken, though, it means he has to move to brace himself on knees so he can free his other hand - bringing that one down to settle somewhere on her hips, metal claws finding their way just barely beneath the hem of her shirt.
Asking for permission as best he can without having to pull back for even a second.

A kiss on its own couldn't ever be enough to return her feelings, after all.]

[Tragically, she needs her words to answer, even if just barely.]

Yes. Please.

[Then she's back to trying to mold her body with his lips-first, like even that brief separation was physically painful for her.]

[Just barely - just long enough that he's left panting between them before she brings them back together again.
And that permission is all he needs, those claws of his already sliding up underneath her clothes to spread out warm and sharp against her skin, his magic undoing the buttons on her suit alongside it so neither of them have to pull away.

His hand isn't searching for anything in particular yet. This is all he wants - just to feel the softness of her skin under his hand, the metal barely able to pick up such sensations.
Just to know that someone so kind would look at his snapping jaws and willingly put herself between them.

Something about that thought gets him to chuckle, raspy and breathless, and he pulls away for a split second -]

... I ain't deserve you in the least.

[- Before he presses back in with a surge of energy, like he plans to eat her whole.
He may not deserve her, but he'll be having her anyway.]

[There's a protest on her tongue before he swallows it up. He deserves better than he thinks he does-

But more than that, whether he deserves her or not, she is his. She presses into each touch without fear of what those claws could do to her without her suit. She wraps her arm around his back and holds him close. Don't go anywhere. Not because he thinks he doesn't deserve her, and not because something takes him away.]

[It's not long until he has her suit jacket flayed open, his claws gliding across her ribs to feel every single one.
They only stop for a moment at the edge of her bra before following along it, snaking down around her back to undo it with ease... by breaking it, of course, snapping through the loops holding it shut like they're paper.

All just so he can settle those claws around her breast, the touch careful and as delicate as her skin is as he massages it in his palm -
A little reminder that even though he may not care much for women in general, with Evangeline, every part of her is something he finds worth exploring.]

[It's fine, she can afford to replace a few dozen more bras in her wardrobe, and anyway that's not what she's focused on right now.

Her voice manages to escape from the kiss, all-consuming as it is. It's muffled, but still clear enough, the need in her voice coming through.]

Jean...

[Her free hand makes its way underneath his hoodie to touch his skin, just as soft and reverent. No less worthy of adoration for the scars that cover his body.]

[That touch is careful, loving, full of a light he too feels like he simply doesn't deserve - yet he presses into it anyway, taking it all for himself and rumbling into the kiss between them.
And taking in the way she's said his name.
His real name.

Something about it seems to spur him on, ripping his attention away elsewhere as he pulls away to sit back on his knees in between hers, reaching down to start working off her skirt -
Only to lunge in for her neck, pressing his mouth against it to leave red-hot little marks on her skin as he undresses her.
Not caring at all where those marks land, of course. If anything, he wants others to see them.]

[He can mark her up as much as he wants to - after all, he’s wearing her mark around his neck for everyone to see. It’s only fair.

She lifts her hips to help him get her skirt off, panting for breath. Her head feels fuzzy and light. Every time he kisses her skin her voice resounds, wordless but full of need.

One-handed, she tugs at his cloak to get it off him. Clothes are unnecessary for either of them right now.]

[The cloak comes off with ease, held on only with magnets, and he's more than happy to let it fall to the side wherever Evangeline deigns to toss it.
He'll be doing the same with her both her skirt and underwear, after all.

The rest he'll have to do, himself, but it's fine - he doesn't mind sitting back for a moment to rip off his tanktop, tossing it elsewhere before moving to free himself from his jeans.

The whole time his expression is scrunched and unpleasant, full of urgency and desperation as if he's on his death bed and right here, right now, Evangeline is the only thing that could possibly keep him alive.
And it's with that desperation that he collapses over her again, metal claws finding a spot on her hips to hold as his other braces himself against the bed again. Holding her in place as he moves to line himself up with her, the head of his cock finding a spot pressed against her and making it abundantly clear what he's looking to do.
Just waiting for her to say yes.]

[As if he has to ask?]

I need you, Jean.

[Not a command, because she hates the thought of making him do anything - but as clear as she can be otherwise about how desperately she needs him to be joined with her.]

[Making sure he has permission every step of the way is deeply important to him, honestly - it's why he waits so loyally until she says what she does, wasting no time beyond that to push inside of her, fill her with himself as much as he's able.
Letting out a low groan as he revels in her heat, a gentle push and pull of his hips so he can really feel her.

And once he's sure there's no chance that he'll slip out, his claws free her hips and move up to brace on the other side of her head, metal forearm pressed heavy into the bedding and that electric elbow of his sparking gently against her skin.
All so he can lean and tuck in against her hair, too. Not even for a kiss - just the softest, most tender embrace as he works to get every inch of himself wrapped inside every inch of her.]

I... need you, too.

[Soft and quiet, half-murmured into her hair, looking at her from the side of his eye as it glows violet in the darkness.]

[Soft and gentle is new. Different. Warm in a way that’s different from lust’s heat.

She traces the scars on his chest with her free hand, gentle and tender. She adores every inch of him, even the parts others would call ugly. That he would call ugly.]

You have me. All of me.

[And that scares her still, but it also allows her to feel this connection between them, and that’s all that matters.]

Edited (the perils of phone tagging) 2025-06-09 17:16 (UTC)

[The way she touches his scars with such a gentle hand, feeling every little dip and crevice and wrinkle that the world's shorn onto him... it's things like this that tell him he made a good choice.
Not just a good choice - the right choice.]

... Then I'm gonna have all of you.

[Matched with a thrust of his hips against hers, the kind that makes his claws grip into the bedding beneath them - and it's clear from the quiet growl in his voice that he means what he says.
Because, well, as it was said earlier...
He may feel like he doesn't deserve her, but he will have her regardless.

Soft and tender and gentle he may be, but that doesn't mean the feelings behind that tenderness are, too.]

[Evangeline doesn't think of herself as anyone special. She's easy to have fun with, sure - she's a good time. But when it comes to her quality as a friend, she doubts herself. And as for her quality as a girlfriend...

Someone wants her, all of her, the sex and the laughter and the tears and the insecurity and the gentle touch and the hurt. The parts of her that she's proud of and the parts she feels are weak and pitiful. Someone looked at every part of her and decided they wanted everything that she is.]

-Please. [She moves her hips back into his, with a shuddering breath.] I want to be yours.

You already are.

[Just a soft little reassurance as he looks down where she's pinned beneath him, moving his prosthetic down to cup her face to make sure she's looking at him, too.
That's something important to him. Knowing he can just look at her without feeling like he needs to hide his face or tear his eyes away, look anywhere else.
And he can't help but think she's beautiful. So beautiful.
Every single part of her.

And as he moves again, moving to fall into a rhythm against her, it's slow - not so slow as to be aognizing, but just... so he can feel her.
Fast and rough is fun, sure, but it's different. He isn't chasing a climax, here - he just wants to feel her.
Every stroke of his cock along her walls, slow and sweet so he can readily, hungrily take it all in.]

[She loves looking at him. Certainly she likes the helmet, but his eyes are more beautiful than any screen will ever be. He never has to hide from her.

She already is his. She doesn't have to do anything more to earn it.

Her eyes mist up, and she automatically reaches with her free hand - she wouldn't let go of his for anything, of course - to scrub at them furiously. Evangeline doesn't cry during sex, that would be completely unlike her.]

[- She only manages to get a scrub or two in before his magic stops her, gently pulling that hand away from her face and dropping it back on the bed.
If she cries, he wants to see it. If she does anything, he wants to see it - that vulnerability is a part of her, and he wants all of her.

And with it he curls forward around her a little more, like he's trying to hide her from the rest of the world -
So she'd be all his, at least in this one moment. At least for right now, while he's buried inside of her, feeling like his non-existent heart could burst at any second.]

-Oh. [Somehow surprised, despite everything. She sniffles, tears starting to fall in earnest now.

-But, okay. No hiding. She traces his scars again, both large and small.]

Jean, I…

[She doesn’t have the words.]

[All that, and yet he shakes his head "no". She doesn't need to say anything - it's okay.]

I... toldja. I want all of ya.

[The tears are a part of that. He even brings up a claw to gently wipe some of them away, his hips going still as he does.
He plans to keep them still, too - sure, he may be flush against her, he can feel himself already starting to ache with need, but that doesn't mean he's not going to pause and wait to see if she's okay.]

[A claw like that could do so much damage to her face, but never for a moment would she fear it. She wouldn’t fear any part of him.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, to let the tears slow to a trickle.]

-I’m okay. It’s just a lot.

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oh uh nsfw, btw

shocking. scandalous.

nsfw? in EVANGELINE'S inbox? unheard of, frankly

Re: nsfw? in EVANGELINE'S inbox? unheard of, frankly

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