singillatim | A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

Who: Chloe Frazer & others
What: Catch-all; open prompts
When: March and April
Where: Around Milton

Content Warnings: Self-injury content related to the echo effects. Descriptions of canon typical violence and murder. Talk about hunting/eating animals.

Chloe doesn't trust Methuselah as far as she could throw him, and a trip through a mine where she's forced to rely on the goodwill of a bunch of cop types does not sound like her idea of a good time. Also, sticking around Milton when most of the people who 'patrol' (imagine her air quotes) are away is a great opportunity to snoop in people’s houses.

Anyone who remains in or returns to Milton may find her either doing her usual wild running in the woods, checking her snares for snacks, or sneaking around newly empty locations to see what's been left behind.

Aurora nights are a different thing, however. Chloe likes to think that she's done her best to do right by the people that she cares about, but the truth is she's cut a few throats in her day, stepped over others to make sure that she would wind up on top. Something about the aurora this month brings every one of those memories roaring back. It has her running faster, drinking until she can't see, and doing risky climbs onto (and jumps between) rooftops, trying to escape the feeling.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lalo melts when she tells him he looks good like this. It's obvious. She can see it. His whole body just seems to collapse, but he looks unmistakably happy and full of desire. It's a good thing he's not the one standing up. His knees are weak.

Then he feels it. Her hands glide over his. And she positions herself over him, the musky scent of her engulfing his senses. He's really helpless. This is really real. It dawns on him. This is really happening. Lalo's heart pounds.

Lalo licks her through her panties. At first. Then tugs them down with his teeth. He łaps at her like a St. Bernard, eagerly. Like he can't get enough of her. Like he needs to drink his fill of her to survive, a dying man in the desert. Usually he'd start slow. Tease her. Warm her up. But that's not what this about. He licks her pussy lips, kisses around her clit, tongue fucks her...whatever she responds to, he does more of. What she doesn't like, he stops immediately.

He almost feels like he's being used, and he loves it. He's living for it. His cock is throbbing and painful, and he's desperate for more.

Chloe does note the happy way he melts in place at the praise, and she's kind of surprised anew that he’d said he's never tried this before. Guy’s a natural.

She tries to keep up the praise while he's working, but it's been so long since anyone aside from Chloe herself has touched her this way that all she can do is groan and try not to grind too hard into his face.

It's so intense - and he's so eager, he wants this so bad - that the climax takes her by surprise. She arches her back with a bit of an embarrassing shriek, every muscle seizing, then leans forward to stroke his hair through the aftershocks.

When she’s caught her breath a bit, she says, “You’re being so good for me,” in as warm a voice as she can manage, but doesn't move away.

The shriek gratifies him; fills him with happiness all the way down to his soul. More than that, it encourages him. He's never come without being touched at all before, but he's dribbling inside his pajama pants as he continues desperately, hungrily licking her folds, until suddenly that warm voice pushes him over the edge.

Lalo can't handle it.

His feels a jolt of pleasure that's almost supernatural in its intensity, and it's over way too soon, and he can feel something sticky and warm in his pants.

That's not all. There's a brief but dazzling display -- along the back of the couch, flames light up in a row, running all the way along the back in a line before quickly burning out just as fast. However, the charred track they leave behind in their wake is a testament to the fact that Chloe didn't imagine them.

Chloe rears back a bit in surprise at the sudden fire racing across her vision, as briefly as it lasts. Still hazy from her own orgasm, it takes her a second to connect the dots, but once she does she smiles lazily. Beautiful.

She pulls away enough to look him in the eye (and to survey how wrecked she’s left his face but at this point that's just a bonus) before saying, “Good boy, doing just what I told you. Are you still hungry?”

Chloe’d had high stamina before being dragged to this place, but now she feels like she could do this forever.

Lalo is an absolute wreck. The hairstyle he carefully maintains has come undone, and Lalo's hair is plastered to his forehead by sweat. His face is flushed, and her fluids glisten on his face.

His eyes, still adoring, are on her. Eyes wide and puppy-like. Tomorrow, he'll be mortified by the state of his couch, her cooing and praise redirect his attention to her and make him tingle all over happily. He feels warm and light, like he trusts her completely. He'll do anything she tells him. He's so glad she broke into his home - a thought crazy enough that even in his current state, Lalo is able to recognize it as the product of fuzzy-fuzzy, post-coital hormones, not representative of his real opinions.

"It's my honor, Miss Chloe." He drinks up the praise. In response to her question: Yes," he says breathlessly. He's more tired than she is, but not ready to call it quits yet. "Give me ten minutes." He's panting. Then, beginning to get some of his spunk back, he grins and reached out to try and tug more of her pats down. "Let me take these off for you. Your shirt, too. Then I'll carry you back there."

While he gives her his pitch, he pauses from trying to pull his pants down to beginning to pull his own pajamas off. They're soiled now, as a testament to her ability to command even the reflexes of his body.

Edited (I'm down to ftb on my next tag if you want!) 2024-04-25 06:48 (UTC)

Chloe smirks down at him. That's a lot of confidence from a guy breathing that hard, it sounds like she might have to carry him instead.

He's moving from tugging on her clothes to his own, and she steps back to give him more space to move, pulling her jeans up as she goes. He's probably getting pretty uncomfortable in those now.

“You’ll need to earn that,” she says, still smiling. “Show me how bad you want it and I’ll get you there.”

Lalo is in a happy, buzzy, gooey-on-the-inside mood. Perhaps one of the only people in Milton who's forgotten all about the green fog.

"Oh, I'll show you, Miss Chloe," Lalo says breathily, and he grins at her and winks. But the truth is, he's happy to earn the chance to show her how bad he wants her. He's happy to ask her permission before doing anything, in fact, even though his pajamas are getting uncomfortable.

With surprising quickness for a man whose legs still feel like Jell-o, Lalo stands up, scooping Chloe into his arms to carry her off to the bedroom.

((OOC: Fade-out there, y/n?))

Chloe laughs, delighted, and wraps an arm behind his neck. Looks like she won’t have to worry about the fog tonight.

A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

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