(She fucking loves telepathy. How do flatscans do it? How do any non-telepaths do it, sounds bland, dull, like a wonderfully plated dish with no seasoning or flavor. Surely it comes with downsides, like listening to something you don't wanna hear, or letting a particularly unpleasant thought escape, but listen. Occupational hazard. The occupation is just fine.
Thing is, she isn't kissing him at the moment, or holding anything when he starts the mindfuckery all over again, so she has nothing but the sheets to curl her hand around to recenter herself as her breath becomes harder to manage with her little sounds of pleasure in between, her toes curling as she finds a little revenge on amplyifing when it comes back to him. Two can play this game, in case he forgot, but the hit she receives from it along with hardness bucking against her hand reminds her that, well, no. The moan she leaves is synched to his, because of course it is, and her eyes roll once he speaks again.)
Talking to me or to yourself?
(She's going to take the opportunity to get those pesky shorts off of her, too, but.
Sir, why do you have fucking Omega boxers. Trust, anyone who gets to see it is very aware, Kid Omega. Remember when she thought that at least he was consistent? Too consistent. Skill issue on her part if she was expecting a black or pink one, but God. Mood unaffected, mood unaffected, especially now that they're kissing again and there's skin to skin, no layers to separate them, warmth and her hand is free to properly roam without boundaries, so she teases it on his hip, nails ever so gently moving across his side before he breaks the kiss to speak.)
Guess we'll see. I'm not loud, so you gotta work for it.
no subject
Thing is, she isn't kissing him at the moment, or holding anything when he starts the mindfuckery all over again, so she has nothing but the sheets to curl her hand around to recenter herself as her breath becomes harder to manage with her little sounds of pleasure in between, her toes curling as she finds a little revenge on amplyifing when it comes back to him. Two can play this game, in case he forgot, but the hit she receives from it along with hardness bucking against her hand reminds her that, well, no. The moan she leaves is synched to his, because of course it is, and her eyes roll once he speaks again.)
Talking to me or to yourself?
(She's going to take the opportunity to get those pesky shorts off of her, too, but.
Sir, why do you have fucking Omega boxers. Trust, anyone who gets to see it is very aware, Kid Omega. Remember when she thought that at least he was consistent? Too consistent. Skill issue on her part if she was expecting a black or pink one, but God. Mood unaffected, mood unaffected, especially now that they're kissing again and there's skin to skin, no layers to separate them, warmth and her hand is free to properly roam without boundaries, so she teases it on his hip, nails ever so gently moving across his side before he breaks the kiss to speak.)
Guess we'll see. I'm not loud, so you gotta work for it.