[...Fuck. He wasn't supposed to do anything with that honesty! Why is he saying her name?! Shouldn't he be too embarrassed to do that? And... god, it's awful. He starts with her surname. Hammering in his similarities with Emiya from the get-go. It makes her feel a bit guilty, honestly. However when he follows it up with her given name it's worse. Not worse as in she hates it. Worse as in she feels that tug of desire pull her even more.
How is she supposed to not want him in this moment? Fulfilling every bit of "what she's into" about him at once like he's trying to 100% speedrun a prophecy. The yearning she has is to take him again. To push him against the floor of this little bungalow and ride him like she did when he was a rabbit. Like she did in her room.
Yet it's not meant to be. His finish comes quick enough, and she's so startled that she accidentally doesn't catch all of it in the cup — allowing just a small smattering of it hit her jaw just to the left of her chin. Against that milky white her face looks red. Red enough to look like it hopes to rival the vibrant scarlet of her bikini. Rin's dark lashes flutter as she blinks in surprise. Caught off guard by Fuuta calling for her and coming for her.]
—Ah. You did good.
[A little praise thrown at him just to distract herself. To remind herself she should angle the cup better so any left that may dribble out from the head is collected. For now she'll leave the stray bit on her skin. She doesn't want to acknowledge it. She pretends it's not there.]
When you don't think there will be anymore let me know. I'll clean you up. Just relax. You—
[Her voice wavers. Her breath shaky and thick with memories of their past encounters. Thick with her restrained need.]
no subject
How is she supposed to not want him in this moment? Fulfilling every bit of "what she's into" about him at once like he's trying to 100% speedrun a prophecy. The yearning she has is to take him again. To push him against the floor of this little bungalow and ride him like she did when he was a rabbit. Like she did in her room.
Yet it's not meant to be. His finish comes quick enough, and she's so startled that she accidentally doesn't catch all of it in the cup — allowing just a small smattering of it hit her jaw just to the left of her chin. Against that milky white her face looks red. Red enough to look like it hopes to rival the vibrant scarlet of her bikini. Rin's dark lashes flutter as she blinks in surprise. Caught off guard by Fuuta calling for her and coming for her.]
—Ah. You did good.
[A little praise thrown at him just to distract herself. To remind herself she should angle the cup better so any left that may dribble out from the head is collected. For now she'll leave the stray bit on her skin. She doesn't want to acknowledge it. She pretends it's not there.]
When you don't think there will be anymore let me know. I'll clean you up. Just relax. You—
[Her voice wavers. Her breath shaky and thick with memories of their past encounters. Thick with her restrained need.]
You were perfect, so I'll handle it.