[ at least taking hostages is old hat. w's certainly taken her fair share and probably some of them were as hot as lappland, but none made that awkward hostage waddle quite this alluring. it's one thing to hold someone prisoner, but fuck if it isn't another thing entirely to feel them moving into it, no matter how hard she shoves that plastic shard into lappland's spine.
and that hand — her teeth flash, though briefly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. there are mercs she's known her whole life who wouldn't have the balls to lay a hand on her, and there's plenty more unwitting fools who thought they could be the one to steal a touch. they're all rotting now, and w's mind is so quickly consumed by thoughts of lappland fly-thick and bloated in that enormous pile of them, her entire body flooding with singing tension.
but the instinct just isn't there, to dash lappland's skull against the floor until it breaks or to wrap her hands around that pretty neck and shake until it falls apart. the impulse sure is, but she finds her skin heating instead, that twisted clenching within turning absolutely fucking unbearable. maybe, maybe, just this once, she wants...
she slams the door behind them, and then indeed captures lappland's arm behind her back, wrenching her forward until she can crash her hard against one of the walls. the nerve of this bitch, throwing it back like that. obviously w needs to grind her into drywall until her bones are milled to a fine dust. ]
Sure, you can beg.
[ at least now the plastic stuck in lappland's spine falls away. w leans determinedly against her as she passes it over her palm, and there's that tell-tale sizzling of arts in the air, the hilt of the blade returning to settle against lappland's throat, significantly warmer than before and emitting a soft tick... tick... ]
Either way, this ends in fireworks. Just gotta find someplace fun to stick this before time's up. Maybe... here?
[ glowing hotter and hotter and slipping down the front of lappland's dress, the fabric catching and tearing at its jagged edges. maybe it'll melt the dress or flesh or all of it if she channels hard enough. ]
no subject
and that hand — her teeth flash, though briefly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. there are mercs she's known her whole life who wouldn't have the balls to lay a hand on her, and there's plenty more unwitting fools who thought they could be the one to steal a touch. they're all rotting now, and w's mind is so quickly consumed by thoughts of lappland fly-thick and bloated in that enormous pile of them, her entire body flooding with singing tension.
but the instinct just isn't there, to dash lappland's skull against the floor until it breaks or to wrap her hands around that pretty neck and shake until it falls apart. the impulse sure is, but she finds her skin heating instead, that twisted clenching within turning absolutely fucking unbearable. maybe, maybe, just this once, she wants...
she slams the door behind them, and then indeed captures lappland's arm behind her back, wrenching her forward until she can crash her hard against one of the walls. the nerve of this bitch, throwing it back like that. obviously w needs to grind her into drywall until her bones are milled to a fine dust. ]
Sure, you can beg.
[ at least now the plastic stuck in lappland's spine falls away. w leans determinedly against her as she passes it over her palm, and there's that tell-tale sizzling of arts in the air, the hilt of the blade returning to settle against lappland's throat, significantly warmer than before and emitting a soft tick... tick... ]
Either way, this ends in fireworks. Just gotta find someplace fun to stick this before time's up. Maybe... here?
[ glowing hotter and hotter and slipping down the front of lappland's dress, the fabric catching and tearing at its jagged edges. maybe it'll melt the dress or flesh or all of it if she channels hard enough. ]