Well, I like it when you call me 'my lady' for one thing.
[No one calls girls pretty names in the slums, or if they do it's rare, so there's a giddy joy that comes with the sincerity that Basch speaks. Tired and worn to the point of hurt, like a loyal hound that had taken too many kicks. So she holds him gently, rubbing his scarred shoulders and carding her fingers through his hair. No matter what hurts he thinks he deserves, the urge to heal, to fill the raw emptiness with gentle affection is a compulsion she can't shake off. Not now, not after so many years of carrying the wounded hearts of people she loved most.
So she smiles, encouraging the feel of his hands tugging gently at the tie with a murmur of praise, and even if he's seen the harness, it feels different now. Before he tried to hide his gaze, tried to stamp down on his arousal, but now it's just the two of them, the soft lace flowers barely covering anything and she gently takes him by the chin, cradling his strong jaw in one hand. Tipping his head so he can only look at her.
And then she lifts one leg to drape over his, effectively 'trapping' him. He's stronger than her, could move her as easily as brushing aside an inquisitive chocobo chick, but she lets the weight of her thigh settle on his. Feeling the warmth of him through his trousers, the power in his frame that he's too gentle to use against her. The thrill of being this exposed makes her want to giggle, to make some kind of joke to dispel the tension, but instead she watches his face. Watching him with a quiet intensity that seems to see more than just the nervous man before her as the dress hangs off her elbows like a housecoat, framing her almost-naked form.]
Thank you Basch, you're really sweet, you know that?
[Her thumb rubs the close-cropped scruff at the edge of his jaw, cocking her head at him.]
I liked it when you had your hands on my hips, but I think there's a couple other places I'd like to feel them more. Can you think of anything?
[So she can't help but tease him a little, shifting her weight enough to draw attention to her hips, tapping the loop of his leash just above the swell of her breast as she lets his chin rest on her open hand. Now to see what her wounded soldier does with his options.]
After all, little bit of exploring never hurt anyone on a mission, right?
no subject
[No one calls girls pretty names in the slums, or if they do it's rare, so there's a giddy joy that comes with the sincerity that Basch speaks. Tired and worn to the point of hurt, like a loyal hound that had taken too many kicks. So she holds him gently, rubbing his scarred shoulders and carding her fingers through his hair. No matter what hurts he thinks he deserves, the urge to heal, to fill the raw emptiness with gentle affection is a compulsion she can't shake off. Not now, not after so many years of carrying the wounded hearts of people she loved most.
So she smiles, encouraging the feel of his hands tugging gently at the tie with a murmur of praise, and even if he's seen the harness, it feels different now. Before he tried to hide his gaze, tried to stamp down on his arousal, but now it's just the two of them, the soft lace flowers barely covering anything and she gently takes him by the chin, cradling his strong jaw in one hand. Tipping his head so he can only look at her.
And then she lifts one leg to drape over his, effectively 'trapping' him. He's stronger than her, could move her as easily as brushing aside an inquisitive chocobo chick, but she lets the weight of her thigh settle on his. Feeling the warmth of him through his trousers, the power in his frame that he's too gentle to use against her. The thrill of being this exposed makes her want to giggle, to make some kind of joke to dispel the tension, but instead she watches his face. Watching him with a quiet intensity that seems to see more than just the nervous man before her as the dress hangs off her elbows like a housecoat, framing her almost-naked form.]
Thank you Basch, you're really sweet, you know that?
[Her thumb rubs the close-cropped scruff at the edge of his jaw, cocking her head at him.]
I liked it when you had your hands on my hips, but I think there's a couple other places I'd like to feel them more. Can you think of anything?
[So she can't help but tease him a little, shifting her weight enough to draw attention to her hips, tapping the loop of his leash just above the swell of her breast as she lets his chin rest on her open hand. Now to see what her wounded soldier does with his options.]
After all, little bit of exploring never hurt anyone on a mission, right?