Quick reply for you as on my friends laptop. Hope it is good enough, just thought I would keep the thread moving along 
Their situation was a strange one. The two warriors locked together, not perhaps in a battle of wits and strength like one would expect, but simply a battle to control their emotions, their hormones. It was a rare sight indeed. It was a curious thing, how somebody as empty and hollow as Lucia could be in such a place as she lingered now. On the edge of her sanity, lips locked with a stranger who possessed such similar traits that their likeness was uncanny. His arms wrapped around her like a protective shield, smile atop a golden maw; his bright coyote eyes half shut and savouring each second as though it was a lasting breath, from which if he didn’t, he could pass over to the world beyond the light.
Lucia, whom allowed such scandalous things to happen on a daily basis, had not expected such an event when she had strolled onto the beach in the early morning. It had not been something she had ever expected; her thoughts had constantly been on the idea of being left alone, rotting in her self pity and abuse; comforted only by the alcohol and drugs which fuelled her happiness and gave her soul a reason to live. Perhaps, on a whim, there would be the occasional day where genuine happiness would present itself to her, bearing her soul to the world, ready for the taking – as though opening the doors to pain and destruction, but what she felt on this day was a completely different sensation. Smile atop her obsidian façade, and her viridian coals glazed over, imaging perhaps the effects of drugs, she stood in his arms and found herself praying that he would never let go. There was that lingering fear too, though; that insecurity that this perfect moment would pass, and she would only have but a taste of true happiness. There was misery in her life, and as the say goes, it loves company – more apparent, hers it seemed.
Returning his kisses, the passion increasing with each one, she could taste him inside her veins; the tingling in her fingertips as she felt her digits curl around his face, and an arm slide around his waist. They were locked together, and it would appear the battle would not end soon. Or at least, that was the general hope of the female traveller. She pondered briefly on the idea that this would lead further on, to things that even she couldn’t imagine herself doing without the aid of alcohol for confidence, but the idea did not scare her away – in fact, she harboured the rush that perhaps Snake could be the one male that she could share her secrets with, and do things with, without any aid – just comfort, trust, and loyalty. The perfect cocktail.
Pulling away slightly, arms still entwined around his slender body, she looked at him, directly toward his eyes. “What now?” she whispered, voice thick with arousal. “Where do we go from here?”
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They were similar in many ways, yes, but also profoundly different. He would probably have rated this at the bottom of what he expected could happen when he ventured from Inferni this day, the same as her, though for different reasons; Snake had never allowed anyone this close to him, stubbornly shoving everyone away because of assumptions. Assumptions that every place was like there, every person was like him or her. Life had been a continuance of repetitions, or so he had seen it. After a while meeting and exchanging shallow conversations all blurred into one, so much so that his weariness to it repelled him from meeting others. But today had changed that, introducing a conversation that actually captured his attention and a woman who was not at all like the shadows of others—immediately breaking precedents and making anything possible. His inability to guess what would happen was somewhat frightening at first, but now it was dangerously appealing. Snake had forced himself to let go of tendencies to control, letting things come as they did.
It was overwhelming, in a word. She overwhelmed every sense he had—her image was visible on the back of closed lids, her scent fogging his brain, a roaring in his ears that was not the ocean, her taste sweeter than anything, and the feel of her strong body and soft fur beneath his caressing hands. He abandoned tracking the passage of time, lost entirely in these and the growing passion that existed in each kiss. Snake could feel her fingers on his face, each like a tongue of flame—startling but attractive in its heat. He keenly sensed her arm encircling his waist, locking them together. He did not consider the future, immediate or distant, for time no longer flowed to where he could feel it. Snake was lost in this moment which seemed to stretch forever—which he almost wished would stretch forever—all until she broke away from him. Time returned to him as he opened his olive eyes once more.
They were still wrapped in the other's embrace, so close, but there was a distance that he knew he would go insane if he did not close it. Of course he dared not make that dangerous first move—his mind ingrained against it—but Lucia seemed to know that. Her words floated out to him, mostly interpreted through the studied movement of her lips because the sound was lost in the violent rushing in his ears. It was those words that broke down that fear, the tone of her voice that she half-heard and half-felt speaking more than the words did themselves. He paused for the briefest moment, realizing then that his breathing had adopted a ragged edge—very atypical for the level-headed coyote. A flash of a smile appeared on his lips as he returned them to hers, considering another wordless answer. But then he decided against it, murmuring, "I think you know," in a tone that was rough and thick, drunk with desire, before kissing her once more. But it did not last as long as he had originally intended, an impulse causing him to pause for a second and transfer his lips to trail along her jawline. His arm that had been around her shoulders lowered to her waist while the other crossed to pause on her hip before sinking to her thigh.
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Quick reply whilst at work, WC - 544. Hope it's not too crap, lol. My workmates are harrassing me xD
Her eyes glistened; there was a strange sense of comfort in the air around them. It was odd how one day she was this heartless blank canvass of no emotion, and now, in the presence of this Inferni male, she was a completely different being. Her mind was spinning, the vertigo caused by hormones making her stomach turn and her intestines knot – it was weird how this feeling had such a beautiful name, yet felt so disturbing. Her body felt like it was floating, as though the wind would pick her up and carry her away; something, which if it were possible, would not be wanted. She wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of time, or at least, consider staying with Snake anyway.
With her ebony eyelids sliced across malachite eyes, she could picture his face in her mind. His smooth coyote features, and his tanned pelt brushing away any paranoia or insecurities she once harboured in this dark cave of distant memories and voices of her inner self. This was one of those Jekyll and Hyde moments, and luckily for her – and perhaps Snake as well – she was just herself.
Breathing heavily, the musk of possible sex in the air, she smiled to herself. His lips linked with hers once more, tingling and caressing her nerves in her face; it was a wonderful feeling and it was more addictive than any drug she had ever tasted. What was it about this male that made her like this? Was it his hard soldier exterior or the challenge of breaking his shell and seeing into his soul? Either way, her intentions were good, although perhaps a little sordid. She didn’t mind, however; she would quite happily give herself away to him – time, and time again.
With his arms around her, the world went quiet. The roar of the ocean disappeared, the cold wind blew but there was no chill. His warmth calmed her nerves and her muscles relaxed. Lucia was placid – a rarity in itself. He was really a God. It had to be true. As he pulled away from the kisses they shared, her eyes peeled open – difficult, and challenging. She wanted to stay in her dream; it was heaven. Staring blankly, her eyes glazed and a small smile atop her obsidian maw, the silence was tainted by their breaths. She was confused. Why did he stop? Parting her maw to speak, his words cut her tongue and her ears flinched slightly. The tone he used was rough, stained by the hormones, which plagued his mind as much as hers. His small smile offered mild comfort, the realisation he would not end it here sunk in slowly and she calmed herself again. Paranoia was a bitch.
Their lips connected once more, though this one was different. Passionate, wanting. There was definite motive in his stance; she had no problem with that whatsoever. Smiling to herself, as they shared another moment, her body tingled. She shivered excitedly, the apprehension and nerves of what was to come overtook; she moaned to herself, his lips trailing down her neckline. His Hand over her thigh. She wanted him to take it further, and she waited. “I do know,” she breathed, “and I think it’s perfect…”
Um, most definitely not crap in the slightest. This might be terrible; it took me too long to write, reoaduf. Some powerplay—tell me if you mind and I'll change it. >_>
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The closest thing that he could compare it to was waking up. He felt as though he had been in a sleep for months, allowing his body to lead his life simply while his soul slept. But this had stirred him from that stasis, allowing him to actually see and hear and feel. It was definitely not anything abrupt—the only reason that he might've noticed it now was in that he thought that he felt her melting in his arms, becoming malleable. There was also the feeling that she was totally dependent on his every action, most easily discernable by the distressed throbbing of her heart when he had left her lips to speak, the hum he thought he could feel under his caressing hands, as intrinsic as blood. But it wasn't just that—he was just as linked to her every movement, breath, feeling. The tiny smile that appeared on her lips at his words made a flush of heat go across his skin—he noticed that her heartbeat returned to something normal, a cadence that he could feel.
They were both caught in the other's trap, both worrying that it would stop and wanting more. Truly as addictive as nicotine, each taste of her made him want more—it was almost difficult to move his lips. But impulse took him, and he found that he liked where it did. His mouth explored the line of her jaw, her neck—her quiet moan rattled through him, making his breath catch for a split second. His hand on the small of her back began to move, feeling the beautiful muscles of her back before moving to her hip, roving upward and back again, exploring every line. He could no longer keep his other hand still either, tracing every plane of her thigh. Every inch of her body that he felt was alive as if with electricity, and it was impossible to ignore. He realized then that he felt the same, though it was more like a fire that had started to burn throughout his entire body. Any self-control that he now had was bought with his sanity—he felt that every moment without her now was one step closer to him being driven mad.
Another impulse, one that drew his arm around her shoulders and the other to the bend of her knee. The coyote lifted her off the ground, cradling her in his arms for the briefest moment before kneeling to the ground. He placed her on the sandy ground with the utmost care—where he had seen her first, dozing alone as the storm approached. But he belonged with her now; Snake hovering over her tantalizingly using one elbow for support as the other invariably to her hip, her thigh. He felt little control over its wanderings, closer marginally every time but never quite close enough for what his body was craving. It was that self-control again, though, and a quiet desire of his to have her want him so badly she had to plead once more. But that self-control was definitely not perfect—her beauty forced him to lower slightly, his contact with her body another thrill that made it even harder to retain some shred of composure. His lips returned to hers after what had seemed like entirely too long, needing to satiate the addiction like a burn in the back of his throat. And then with that he went back to her jawline, a gravelly rumble building in his chest.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he considered what she had said—about this being perfect. That was something that he almost never really thought about; perfection was something that he had never believed in. The first time he remembered hearing about anything being perfect were Patriot's aspirations for him being the perfect soldier. And look how that was turning out—in the middle of a war he was out of Inferni territory, having let down every guard he had with a wolf that he had known for a short while. But as things progressed, he knew that logic didn't mean anything here. Time was nothing—he had always known that. Now with the desire for this woman flowing through his veins as thick as blood he knew that she was right; it was perfect. Just as she was to him, she who had woken him up after all this time.
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WC: 642.
I hate writing these at work; they always seem so rushed and crap. >.> Heh.
Forgive me for the terribleness of this post... Oh, & your post was brilliant btw! <33
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She lay there, quiet and thoughtful. It was strange the way things worked out – she had stumbled upon this spot accidentally, and had dozed here to escape the insomnia, the nightmares. She had not known that the dreams would have been literal; the escape was real. He was that escape, and although in some senses she was trapped in the moment – in his embrace – she felt invincible. She felt whole. That, in itself, wasn’t normal for the obsidian female. She had never felt like she fitted anywhere, let alone with a solider from Inferni – a coyote, as well. The world worked in mysterious ways; it played out like a bad romance novel, and even though the clichés and the corny moments made her subconscious cringe, she felt as though it was something she would want to see through. It was something she couldn’t – or even wouldn’t – give up. He was hers now, and she was his; she just hoped it was a long-term thing. She hoped he would remain hers for a while - the idea of a relationship crossing the dark winding pathways of her mind – but it quickly disappeared into the abyss of twisted realities and destructive voices. The sensation of his digits brushing past her hip distracted her from the cold, distant screams of her mind – and she smiled. Eyes half closed, watching him above her, watching him succumb to his inner desires. He had control, more than her in fact – but she would not beg, she would not plead. She wanted him to feel the same uncontrollable urges – she wanted him to break his inabilities to make the first move.
The musk of his scent filled her nostrils. It poisoned her veins and intoxicated her system. It felt like a virus, breaking down her walls and destroying her cells. It was programmed to destroy her flaws, and it definitely seemed to be working. He made her feel beautiful, wanted. She just hoped it would remain so; she didn’t want to give herself away if he would disappear. That would break her – it would kill her. She had no doubts about it. She was lusting after him like drugs and alcohol, like nicotine. He was her new addiction, and it appeared that he knew that. Why was he not scared away? ...Curious, very curious indeed.
The silence ate away at her like a plague. It twisted her stomach, knotted her intestines. The pounding of her heart in her chest, her ribcage tightening around her lungs. She could feel her breaths catching in her throat; she could hear the slight moans in her voice. The flush of pleasure across her skin as he caressed her jaw line with his lips. She smiled again; eyes glazed over, hand curled around the base of his neck, egging him on, and one fist tightened in the sand. Lucia was in heaven – he was heaven. He was perfect. “Do you want this? Tell me you want me.” Her words were barely a whisper, she couldn’t speak. He was controlling her, he was dominant. Just the way she liked it. She wanted him to do things his way, she enjoyed it. She liked to play submissive. “If we do this, will you still be mine tomorrow?” Paranoia in her voice, masked by the tone of arousal. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her insecurities; she didn’t want to ruin the mood. She wasn’t ready to give him up – would she ever be now she had tasted him? She didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t quite care for the matter at the current moment in time. She just had to be sure that he would still be around – still be hers. She wanted him, seriously and committed. Would he do it? She would see. “Be mine?” she begged, a glimmer of fading hope in her glassy optics. “...Officially?”
My focus has been totally shot since school got out, so I fear for the consistency of this post. That, and the fact that I wrote it over an entire... day. Nnn, and this post is 666 words long. <<;
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The past and future really didn't mean much to him—the present was the only thing that really had any meaning. Sure, he believed that one's past shaped the person, but he never dwelled in it. Obsessing over the past brought on things like depression, vengefulness, and all other things that interfered with a soldier's mindset. The future meant less still—something that he never bothered to worry about. Snake thought that whatever would happen, would happen; it was exactly what he might have thought about this situation a few weeks ago, or about the war before it started. This had definitely been trouble earlier in his first few months in Inferni—back then, he had said his loyalty would only go as far as it benefited him. It had taken several months, but now he knew and respected the members of his clan enough to truly want to be there, to defend them in war. Loyalty was something that had to be created in Snake, but now it was mostly default.
Digression aside, he hadn't really considered any insecurities of hers, especially regarding him leaving. Him wanting her was pretty much as far as his thought process went right now, which was why her words originally instilled a little confusion in him. Unlike many others, he did not pointedly fear commitment—he used to avoid it for safety issues, but recently his growing loyalty had undermined that. But as he considered it, things were surprisingly simple in his mind. So far, in seventeen months of life, she was the only one that made him feel this way, think this way. If he wanted her now, why wouldn't he later? No, commitment was not something that he feared, and at this moment it did not at all seem like a big deal. Of course, right now, the war seemed like a minor inconvenience in the rearview mirror—unfortunately the future would tell how it would all work out, and he had no foresight for such things.
No, he did not outwardly notice these insecurities, as he was not very perceptive in things like this. But he would have considered them outlandish—she was beautiful to him, and such qualities were not often bestowed on anyone n the coyote's mind. But the last word she said, that one stuck with him. Officially—what did that entail, officially? He wasn't sure and, quite frankly, he didn't care. He was up to agreeing with anything and allowing the future to happen as it would. A flush of heat spread across his back, fighting the misty afternoon, as her hand took hold of the back of his neck—enough to make him almost involuntarily take hold of her thigh. He knew that she expected answers (even though speaking was almost out of his range of ability at the moment) and he returned his face to hover over hers, searching her misted eyes as he replied, "Yes," to the first question—simply enough. He kissed her lightly, continuing to say, "Yes," to the second, kissing her again now with more passion before a final, "Yes."
Snake was generally not a very subtle person, and this was another facet of this—and it was enough of a struggle against his ingrained prejudice against any first move. But it was that concept of the past warring against hormones and desire, and those latter forces were winning. So as he brought his lips back to hers for a final time, he brought their bodies together at long last as well. For the briefest moment his mind froze—momentarily thrown off—but instinct overrode it quickly enough. He heard a lusty growl from the back of his throat (seeming totally involuntary) as he was overcome by the primal pleasure. He shifted his grip on her leg backward, bringing her impossibly closer as he allowed his movements to be driven by his body's cravings, as well as with careful attention to what would resonate with hers.
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WC: 715.
Great post  I loved it - was a challenge to reply to. Hope this was okay for you!
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His olive eyes locked upon hers once more, that momentary silence where her heartbeat was more powerful than the ocean’s roar sending a chill down her spine. Her streamlined muscles rippled under her obsidian fur, a smile sprawling over her lips. She wanted to speak, wanted to break the fragility in the air, but the words caught themselves in her throat, smashed by the hammer of his tongue – his answers hitting her like bricks in the skull, making her dizzy, and her stomach turn. “Yes?” she whispered, sharp breaths causing distortion in her voice, his lips connecting with hers for a light kiss. She continued to smile. “Yes? ... I don’t know what to say,” she was truly speechless. She had never considered herself a one-man wolf, let alone that it was this simple. She had known the bloke for little over a few hours and already she lay with him, his hand atop her thigh, and a relationship occurring. She was amazed – and if not a little egotistical about the entire thing. It brought a twisted sense of pride into her mind, and whether it was because somebody wanted her for more than a play toy, or whether it was because she had finally discovered that she could care for more than her depression and her suicidal tendencies, it didn’t matter – she just felt happy. It was a rare, beautiful thing – just like him.
With thoughts plaguing each sector of her mind, it was not clear what would happen next. She pondered on the idea of holding off the unspeakable things that they would no doubt get up to, but with the hormones gripping onto her as hand as his digits stroked her inner thigh, she passed on the thought to nothing but a distant memory. Staring up at him, her flesh burning with passion and desire, Lucia lifted her head off the sand and greeted him halfway for yet another kiss. There was something about his kisses that made the voices disappear, that made the madness fade – it replaced it with a different type of crazy. The craziness of wanting, the madness of lust, and that, in all honesty, was not a problem for her at all. It was definitely better than the abyss of darkness she often lingered in – although, considering how disturbing that place was, anything would probably be better than that; she had better not tell him that. Offence was not what she had in mind – she just wanted to be close to him, in more ways than one.
Feeling herself shift across the beach slightly, she was dragged from her thoughts. She had momentarily forgotten the situation she was placed in; the hormonal rush flooding her system as he now lay atop her, closer than they had ever been. She could feel his breath on her face, and his body between her thighs. It felt like she was watching herself, her legs curling around his, tightening around his waist – the involuntary movements that were controlled not by her mentality, but by the sweet scent that he produced; the pheromones wafting up her nostrils and intoxicating her better than any drug she could inject, smoke or swallow. Now she was the one instigating the next moves, scrunching her toes, and sliding her hands down his back. A small moan escaped her lips, the urge to speak building up but the moment too perfect to destroy.
Keeping her eyes on his, she felt her fingers brush past the dimples in his back, touching the smooth curves of his rump. They lingered there, gripping lightly as though to signify moving forward with their love in the sands of the Quart’s Shoreline. She was ready and waiting, and her lowers began to moisten itself. Her eyes blurred, water lining them as the wait became almost unbearable. With her digits curling around, still placed atop his bottom, she smiled at him – never once looking away. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to take her now and take her good, but she didn’t. It would ruin the momentary bliss. Kissing his cheek, she remained silent – statuesque in appearance. ‘You’re amazing’, she thought, ‘wonderful, brilliant’... And that was how she waited for him. Thinking, silent and ready. And she hoped he would see that.
Your post was better than okay—this 4AM post, on the other hand, rrgh.
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She certainly had something to be prideful of. She had somehow managed to entice Snake—a trained soldier supposed to be on alert in the middle of a war, emotionally devoid (if not backward), and oftentimes ignorant—into such a situation. It was something that he would not have expected or anticipated; hell, he probably would have labeled it as impossible as things were now. But there was something about Lucia that had broken through each of these aspects. He would not be able to list specifics of how he believed she did this, but in the end he supposed that it was not that important. What was important was that she had somehow made an non-desiring Snake want her more than anything else, a stoic creature flush with overpowering ecstasy. It was all certainly something that no one else previously could claim to have done.
Though her thoughts might be many of number and type, Snake's mind seemed to have grown even quieter than it usually was—enough to where his silent reply to her words sounded like thunder: Don't have to say anything at all. No, higher thought process was overridden by instincts and hormones, brought on even more by the intoxicating scent of pheromones in the air, the soft moan of her voice, the curving of her legs about his, the trailing of her hands down his back, coming to rest on his haunches. Her grip there, the heat that spread across his face as she kissed his cheek—it grew steadily to be more than enough. She did not need to say anything here either; there was enough of a roar and clamor in his own mind, rising over the noise of the waves.
It had all been enough, and after a momentary focus of abandoning whatever reserves that might have lingered until now, Snake could resist the urges of his flesh no longer. With little subtlety and at long last he entered her body, initially overwhelmed by the surge of pleasure that the sensation elicited only to realize that it was its own addiction within itself. His own grip tightening without his conscious notice, his hips ground into hers before he reversed the arch of his movement, drawing out only to push in further towards her core. Now each movement only made him want to go faster, deeper, and to work toward the peak that was as inevitable as the rumble of thunder after the flash of lightning.
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WC: 506.
Raunchy enough? xD
The momentary increase of pressure between her thighs sent a shudder down her spine. Her once gently shut eyelids clamped down on themselves, screwing up her features and adding excess attention to her scar. She could feel the beads of sweat sliding off her pelt, and though on a normal day, she would have considered it unhygienic, the thought ceased to cross her mind. It felt almost dreamlike – as though she was watching herself, but with each shift of Snake’s body, it was a constant reminder that she was, in fact, very much in reality.
Without much conscious thought, it became apparent that Lucia had begun to mimic Snake’s movements – like a mirror image, forcing the weight to be shifted and the depth in which he entered, increase. She could feel her toes curling, as though bending by an invisible force – her legs still wrapped around his waist, tightening every second, as though subliminally saying ‘don’t ever stop’.
Lucia’s fingertips grasped tighter into her palms, now fists resting atop his rump. It was almost as though pain had turned on its head – for, in some subconscious crevice of her mind, it told her that her legs had begun to ache, and her circulation was too fast for her body to keep up. It was like the oxygen she inhaled had turned to acid; her throat burned with each intake, small whimpers escaping her maw as she exhaled. The pain had become pleasure.
Her canines gripped against each other, her muscles became rigid. Each wave of perforation sent new tingles through her system, her mind ablaze and the ability to think slowly shutting down. There was a creeping smile on her lips, twisted by the many masks of pleasure which stole her façade as the activity continued. Her obsidian fur now drenched from the blending of their body heat, adding more so to the sensations which tore her rationality and senses apart. All she could taste, touch, and smell was Snake – the scent of the ocean’s salt had faded into nothingness, the chill of the weather became non-existent. Everything had dissolved, leaving just Snake and her in this intoxicating moment; nothing else mattered.
It hit her like a bullet through the chest. She could feel muscles contracting in her body that she never knew existed – including ones which lay between her thighs. Lucia’s temperature began to soar, her legs shaking and her body beginning to falter in rhythm. With each gasp of air, her throat forming a lump within it, her verbalisations increased in volume. Lifting one of her fists from his lower back, she curled her digits around his neck and lifted her heavy eyelids ever so slightly. Everything was a blur – she could just about make out the outline of Snake’s face, but that seemed to be enough for the ebony femme. Her maw parted, a half-moan, half-scream lifted into the horizon – her hands fell back into fists, and her senses shut down completely. All bar the sensation of her own wetness between her legs.
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