[ It's different for him compared to what she has; she has more memories of the two of them together than he does, who has vague daydreams of a future that seems impossible to catch up to. The very notion of her knowing who he is and still wanting him is baffling enough, but he is not yet fool enough to let this particular chance run away from him.
Her smile is enough, for now, even if he feels a little sour of it, knowing she will not be here for eternity. That the end of days is nigh and he can do little, it seems, to prevent it. ]
Oh? [ His eyebrow raises at the gentle sound of her purr, something stirring inside of him as he gazes at her, a touch awed by her existence. When she continues, however, some red flows to his cheeks and he seems to hitch his fingers in her hair before he breathes out gently. He is trying to maintain himself, but feels much akin to a failure. ]
( Something in the way he says it, the way nervousness seems to overcome him has her pause. The flush is extremely fetching but never did Pahja think she would be the more experienced of the two of them. Because that's what this is, isn't it? It explains much about earlier when she thought she was implying enough for him to pick up on.
Cupping his cheek, her smile is soft, kind. )
Would you rather I show you first? I would need some things, but as I understand it that is hardly an issue.
( Since he can simply magic anything they could want into existence. )
[ At least it does not seem as though he has to admit to all his failings, which is a benefit to say the least. Emet-Selch might be somewhat of a master at his craft, but that had left other things to fall to the side somewhat; what Pahja is offering is not something he had ever anticipated being in his near future, less so given what he had learned of it.
At least she does not appear offended, which soothes some of his slightly battered ego. ]
You can show me whatever you wish, I simply promise to withhold any measure of being impressed until we are done.
[ Haha, he's so funny, shakes his head and leans into her touch. ]
You and I are well aware I can make you whatever you please.
( Pahja snorts, pressing her lips against his again, grinning into the kiss. Did he remember this, in the future? But Elidibus did say that nothing she did would change her past, didn't he? Something like that, anyway. Running her fingers through his hair, her purr continues unabated. )
Oh, please. You make think me a familiar, but I promise you I'll broaden your horizons like no familiar could.
( She probably won't break him. Probably. )
A strap-on. ( A pause. ) Do you have those here? One with as big of a cock as you'd like. And lubricant.
[ It seems as though all she can do is continue to kiss him, and all Emet-Selch can do is lean into them, giving her whatever she might desire of him. He feels weak, strangely vulnerable, and he hesitates as he looks at her.
All he can do is laugh. A mystery and a marvel all at once. ]
I... Am aware of the notion, yes. [ He feels as though he is blazing red now. ] You intend to...
[ He magicks them up for her, but he's clearly embarrassed. ]
Only if you like. ( Pahja brushes his hair back away from his face, only to watch it fall down again over his bright red cheeks. Adorable, but she figures telling him that will make him bolt. At least right now. ) Just-- if you're worried about your performance and inexperience then perhaps you'd feel more comfortable with being penetrated.
( Another kiss, but this time she presses it to the tip of his nose. )
How am I to know what I like? [ If he's yet to experience it. Oh, there are studies, of course, and books, but those are not the type of thing he spends his time reading. There are more important things to focus on when one is a member of the convocation.
The notion of his performance, however, makes his face twist into a scowl. ]
I am sure I will perform admirably. Go ahead, let us begin.
You don't need to rush into it to prove a point, Emet.
( She says, only mildly chastising him. Instead she kisses him again, longer and deeper this time; they may not have all night but she's not going to just... jump to it. Although she does have one question, and breaks away slightly to ask it. )
Are you sure about the size?
( It's just... rather large, that's all, and since he's never been penetrated she's worried about hurting him. It's supposed to be enjoyable, after all. )
I am not rushing. I'm perfectly capable of knowing my own limitations.
[ The fact that they have just sat for hours talking means he has learned of her - and her kisses are so soft and gentle. He wants more of that - more of what she is offering, even if it is completely foreign to him. He's still blushing, but there's something more tender about it now.
He wants to be loved; is that such a cruelty? When all he knows now is that the world is going to end?
( That has Pahja's eyes widening in delight, her hands going right to it in order to inspect its size more in-depth. That she is doing so on his lap is no matter. )
Well! That is astonishingly good news for my fantasies whenever I return home and have a moment of time to myself. I only wish we had time enough for me to experience it first hand.
( She doesn't hold it against him though, and a few more kisses has her grinning even wider. He is... unmistakably charming like this, and she's delighted at the chance to have him. Which she should get to, easily pulling off her robe to throw it off to the side -- they'll have to get him naked as well, but that means she would have to get off his lap; she's not so keen on that at the moment. )
Where would you like me to have you? On the bed? Across the table? I don't think I could support your weight for fucking you against the wall face to face and I'd need a stool otherwise, but we can adapt!
And just how many of us were you planning on experiencing while you were here with us?
[ Not that he is particularly jealous or anything, but it's clear he mislikes the idea of her having any kind of experience with anyone else. There's a slight curve to his lips, almost a rather upset sneer, but he gets himself under control very quickly.
It helps that she leans in to give him more kisses, that he soothes some of his battered ego by letting him lean in and press their mouths together again. It's tender, a little more gentle, something soft, exploratory more than anything else.
She is so very carefree about the whole matter and that makes him cough, looking around the room. ]
The bed will likely suit, I think, though...
[ She will have to move - but he can't have that. He shifts, rising to his feet and bringing her with him, one hand moving swiftly to hold her by her ass. ]
Are you jealous, Emet? ( She sounds absolutely delighted. ) No one, no one but you, you silly man.
( Just so he knows. The softness in his kiss practically melts her with genuine kindness -- it's what she wishes they could have had, glad that she could give it to him now in this hour. She doesn't expect him to pick her up, however, and her yelp of surprise is mostly muffled by his mouth. )
Oh!
( Pahja dissolves into surprised laughter, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself in his arms. )
[ Which means he absolutely is, but he does not want to talk about it one little bit. The idea of being jealous over a person he barely knows, one who means vaguely little to him beyond being the harbinger of doom? He has to smother those feelings.
It's easier to focus on walking her over to his bed, a rather large stretch of a thing, and settling himself down with her in his lap once again. It's easier to tilt his head up, to leave a kiss on her jaw, on her neck, on her shoulder, to hum against her skin.
( She laughs at his denial, bubbling up from her chest in a way that clearly indicates her delight and not laughing at his expense. The kisses along her skin are good, and he gets a sharp, small gasp at that with every one he places. Encouragement never harmed anyone.
Looking down at him, Pahja brushes his hair away from his face, placing a kiss of her own on his forehead. )
Hmm. We could make out for a while more, I think, or you could strip.
[ He says it almost incredulously, as if the idea of taking his robes off is completely foreign - which is is. The very fact that he has dared to even task his mask of before her says a great deal about his affection for Azem, and he forces himself to settle down and not think too hard on it.
Shaking his head, he waves his hand and clicks his fingers - and his robes are no more, disappeared into nothingness. ]
( And then he's just naked, and Pahja can't help but stare, a little openmouthed, at all of him. She doesn't know what she expected -- the Emet she knows is old, worn down by loss and the weight on his shoulders bending them still -- but not unattractive. Yet this, seeing him in his youth, is an entirely different thing.
So she's staring. For a long moment before coughing slightly and coming back to herself. )
Very. ( Which means she'll run her hands over his shoulders, down his chest to playfully tweak a nipple -- all while focusing on kissing him as deeply as he will allow. In between kisses, however, she finally finds the words to continue. ) Tell me when you want me. We'll go from there.
( She really should finish stripping, and it takes her a moment of repositioning herself to shed her pants and shoes, but then she does, and slides her hand down between them to drag the tips of her claw-like nails across the soft skin of his cock. )
[ There's no denying the smug pleasure he gets at the way she looks at him, drinking him in and clearly wanting more. Bodies are simply that - bodies, something to be draped in robes and hidden behind masks. For her to be so gleeful upon looking at him makes him pleased, arrogantly so. He has no reason not to be.
Is he not a handsome man? It must be so.
Leaning back a little, he watches her with a raised eyebrow, allowing her to explore as she pleases before she tweaks at him - and then he returns to his usual scowl, giving her a sour little look. ]
When I want you? I believe you have a little work to do first -
[ He's cut off by her hand, hissing a little and shifting his hips. ]
( Smug bastard. Pahja's free hand clamps down on his hip, holding him to the bed with a surprising amount of strength from someone of her stature. He's not allowed to move unless she wants him to, and she meets his scowl with a satisfied smirk of her own. )
Is that so, Emet-Selch? ( Her touch becomes more direct, wrapping her hand around his cock fully to stroke him once, palm worn and rough against the soft skin. ) Then I take back my generous actions of earlier -- I want you to beg for me to take you.
( He might be inexperienced, but Pahja hedges her bets as to what he might like and shifts so that she is on her knees above him. One of her knees goes to his leg to keep his hips pinned to the bed while her hand works over him, and the other goes to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, pulling to direct his gaze up at her.
There is still kindness in her eyes, however, a lurking understanding that if this isn't what he wants he need only tell her and she will cease. )
[ She is strong and that is attractive enough; Emet-Selch has no room to complain when it is something he finds desirable, something he wants without the ability to question it. Who would not be attracted to strength, be it physical, magical or mental? The fact that she could pin him and use him - well, those are thoughts for later.
His head still tilts and nose still wrinkles. ]
I am not one for begging, no matter what you might offer.
[ True enough that her hand on his cock feels remarkable; true enough that he wishes for more of it, to allow himself to fully succumb to what she is giving him. His breathing shakes a little and his eyes flicker, feeling flushed from the warmth of pleasure.
He is not against the idea; stubbornness simply wins out. ]
( Terrible, stubborn man, Pahja thinks, although it is laced with fondness. Leaning down, she lets her lips brush over his -- refusing to kiss him until he asks for it. )
Aye, I am well aware of that. Which is precisely why I want to see your pretty lips form the words "Pahja, please".
( She drags out the whine, catching his lower lip between her teeth and dragging it out after, in emphasis. He might protest that they don't have long, but Pahja is confident enough that she can make him beg for her in that time. After all, he seems wont to put up rough front for a softer, truer self.
Using it against him in this manner is probably unwise, all told, but if she has one shot at this she's simply going to use all that she has at her disposal. Which means continuing to stroke him, occasionally letting the tips of her nails scrape over him. Demanding, but at a slow and steady pace without much in the way of urgency.
[ His glare settles in place then, his head tilting back; he does not lean towards her kiss. ]
Oh, is this some fair trade for you having to make requests from me before? Poor form for a supposed hero, stealing into my rooms at night and making demands of my virtue.
[ There is a determination to him that is betrayed only by the way his cock twitches as he looks at her, a desire that he is fighting with - his own nature versus his wants, the knowledge that he might gain an experience born of nothing short of pure pleasure. The idea of having to lay low his pride, however, is not something that he is quite able to suppress.
He could simply magick her the way he wants, have her on her back, clothes removed, but it seems such a barbaric thing to do when he is sure he might wait her out. She wants as much as he does, after all, and he has lived for eons. He can live longer.
( Pahja snorts at that, lips twitching up in an amused smile, fondness breaking through at his sarcasm. )
Yes, you've caught me. No hero am I, but a woman bent upon finding those most in need of a lesson of humility. And you, Hades, are the most in need in all of Elpis.
( He is right about one thing: he has lived for eons. But as someone unexperienced -- by choice, yes -- but inexperienced all the same. Pahja thinks that gives her an advantage. And if he wishes to have her rather than the other way around, well. She won't complain so long as he is the one who breaks first.
But she can feel that he is not unmoved. That only encourages her, and she leans forward to bite and tug at his earlobe if he will let her get close. Another tease as her grip on his cock tightens, dragging her hand up and down slightly faster but still slow, achingly so. )
[ His eyes narrow, just a little, a sour little thing as he tries to find words. ]
There is no need for humility when I recognise my talents as they are. It would be foolish to do anything else.
[ But, oh, she is quite the tease, a temptation he can barely resist, and while this all seems to be moving at the speed of creation itself he cannot find a way to shrug off his want to force himself to be tight and controlled. It is not simply a desire to make her work for it - it is knowledge that he does not want to appear weak.
Especially in something so new.
Still, his hips jerk, just a little, his breathing hitching, just enough that it's a sign of weakness. ]
( How can he keep his face like that? Pahja laughs -- a small, soft thing, and gives into the urge to kiss the scowl he's schooled his face into. It's charming, along with the creases between his brows, which she also kisses. )
No, no. You would not be Emet-Selch if you did. ( That she will give him as she continues to drag her hand up and down him, squeezing now here and there -- uneven. She can sense his weakness, the fact he is not as unaffected as he would wish to convince her. ) For I have ever had to exert myself to prove myself to you. But I won against your vaunted might then, and will do so now.
( A breath, and then she leans in further, wondering if she can work herself to the heart of the matter. )
It isn't weakness, to give into what you want. Oh, Emet, you never have to worry about that. Not with me, I promise.
[ Centuries of practice at sourness and moulding his face to be settled into one clear expression has absolutely coloured him in this moment, even though he might feel a little - a lot - on edge. ]
Certainly not. [ He is shaking, just a little, some movement to his shoulders, his eyes flickering just so - he's not entirely unaffected by her touches and the softness of her voice. He looks at her, eyes wide and wanting, until he blinks it away.
Swallowing, he leans back, but there's not much space for it. ]
Did I say it was weakness? It is determination, dogged determination.
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Her smile is enough, for now, even if he feels a little sour of it, knowing she will not be here for eternity. That the end of days is nigh and he can do little, it seems, to prevent it. ]
Oh? [ His eyebrow raises at the gentle sound of her purr, something stirring inside of him as he gazes at her, a touch awed by her existence. When she continues, however, some red flows to his cheeks and he seems to hitch his fingers in her hair before he breathes out gently. He is trying to maintain himself, but feels much akin to a failure. ]
I would not be disinterested.
[ Cough. ]
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Cupping his cheek, her smile is soft, kind. )
Would you rather I show you first? I would need some things, but as I understand it that is hardly an issue.
( Since he can simply magic anything they could want into existence. )
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At least she does not appear offended, which soothes some of his slightly battered ego. ]
You can show me whatever you wish, I simply promise to withhold any measure of being impressed until we are done.
[ Haha, he's so funny, shakes his head and leans into her touch. ]
You and I are well aware I can make you whatever you please.
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Oh, please. You make think me a familiar, but I promise you I'll broaden your horizons like no familiar could.
( She probably won't break him. Probably. )
A strap-on. ( A pause. ) Do you have those here? One with as big of a cock as you'd like. And lubricant.
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All he can do is laugh. A mystery and a marvel all at once. ]
I... Am aware of the notion, yes. [ He feels as though he is blazing red now. ] You intend to...
[ He magicks them up for her, but he's clearly embarrassed. ]
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( Another kiss, but this time she presses it to the tip of his nose. )
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The notion of his performance, however, makes his face twist into a scowl. ]
I am sure I will perform admirably. Go ahead, let us begin.
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( She says, only mildly chastising him. Instead she kisses him again, longer and deeper this time; they may not have all night but she's not going to just... jump to it. Although she does have one question, and breaks away slightly to ask it. )
Are you sure about the size?
( It's just... rather large, that's all, and since he's never been penetrated she's worried about hurting him. It's supposed to be enjoyable, after all. )
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[ The fact that they have just sat for hours talking means he has learned of her - and her kisses are so soft and gentle. He wants more of that - more of what she is offering, even if it is completely foreign to him. He's still blushing, but there's something more tender about it now.
He wants to be loved; is that such a cruelty? When all he knows now is that the world is going to end?
His eyes close before he laughs softly. ]
I assure you, that is the average for us.
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Well! That is astonishingly good news for my fantasies whenever I return home and have a moment of time to myself. I only wish we had time enough for me to experience it first hand.
( She doesn't hold it against him though, and a few more kisses has her grinning even wider. He is... unmistakably charming like this, and she's delighted at the chance to have him. Which she should get to, easily pulling off her robe to throw it off to the side -- they'll have to get him naked as well, but that means she would have to get off his lap; she's not so keen on that at the moment. )
Where would you like me to have you? On the bed? Across the table? I don't think I could support your weight for fucking you against the wall face to face and I'd need a stool otherwise, but we can adapt!
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[ Not that he is particularly jealous or anything, but it's clear he mislikes the idea of her having any kind of experience with anyone else. There's a slight curve to his lips, almost a rather upset sneer, but he gets himself under control very quickly.
It helps that she leans in to give him more kisses, that he soothes some of his battered ego by letting him lean in and press their mouths together again. It's tender, a little more gentle, something soft, exploratory more than anything else.
She is so very carefree about the whole matter and that makes him cough, looking around the room. ]
The bed will likely suit, I think, though...
[ She will have to move - but he can't have that. He shifts, rising to his feet and bringing her with him, one hand moving swiftly to hold her by her ass. ]
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Are you jealous, Emet? ( She sounds absolutely delighted. ) No one, no one but you, you silly man.
( Just so he knows. The softness in his kiss practically melts her with genuine kindness -- it's what she wishes they could have had, glad that she could give it to him now in this hour. She doesn't expect him to pick her up, however, and her yelp of surprise is mostly muffled by his mouth. )
Oh!
( Pahja dissolves into surprised laughter, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself in his arms. )
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[ Which means he absolutely is, but he does not want to talk about it one little bit. The idea of being jealous over a person he barely knows, one who means vaguely little to him beyond being the harbinger of doom? He has to smother those feelings.
It's easier to focus on walking her over to his bed, a rather large stretch of a thing, and settling himself down with her in his lap once again. It's easier to tilt his head up, to leave a kiss on her jaw, on her neck, on her shoulder, to hum against her skin.
He doesn't quite know what to do next. ]
Direct me as you please, then, little familiar.
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Looking down at him, Pahja brushes his hair away from his face, placing a kiss of her own on his forehead. )
Hmm. We could make out for a while more, I think, or you could strip.
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[ He says it almost incredulously, as if the idea of taking his robes off is completely foreign - which is is. The very fact that he has dared to even task his mask of before her says a great deal about his affection for Azem, and he forces himself to settle down and not think too hard on it.
Shaking his head, he waves his hand and clicks his fingers - and his robes are no more, disappeared into nothingness. ]
Happy?
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( And then he's just naked, and Pahja can't help but stare, a little openmouthed, at all of him. She doesn't know what she expected -- the Emet she knows is old, worn down by loss and the weight on his shoulders bending them still -- but not unattractive. Yet this, seeing him in his youth, is an entirely different thing.
So she's staring. For a long moment before coughing slightly and coming back to herself. )
Very. ( Which means she'll run her hands over his shoulders, down his chest to playfully tweak a nipple -- all while focusing on kissing him as deeply as he will allow. In between kisses, however, she finally finds the words to continue. ) Tell me when you want me. We'll go from there.
( She really should finish stripping, and it takes her a moment of repositioning herself to shed her pants and shoes, but then she does, and slides her hand down between them to drag the tips of her claw-like nails across the soft skin of his cock. )
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Is he not a handsome man? It must be so.
Leaning back a little, he watches her with a raised eyebrow, allowing her to explore as she pleases before she tweaks at him - and then he returns to his usual scowl, giving her a sour little look. ]
When I want you? I believe you have a little work to do first -
[ He's cut off by her hand, hissing a little and shifting his hips. ]
- which, clearly, you are seeing to.
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Is that so, Emet-Selch? ( Her touch becomes more direct, wrapping her hand around his cock fully to stroke him once, palm worn and rough against the soft skin. ) Then I take back my generous actions of earlier -- I want you to beg for me to take you.
( He might be inexperienced, but Pahja hedges her bets as to what he might like and shifts so that she is on her knees above him. One of her knees goes to his leg to keep his hips pinned to the bed while her hand works over him, and the other goes to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, pulling to direct his gaze up at her.
There is still kindness in her eyes, however, a lurking understanding that if this isn't what he wants he need only tell her and she will cease. )
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His head still tilts and nose still wrinkles. ]
I am not one for begging, no matter what you might offer.
[ True enough that her hand on his cock feels remarkable; true enough that he wishes for more of it, to allow himself to fully succumb to what she is giving him. His breathing shakes a little and his eyes flicker, feeling flushed from the warmth of pleasure.
He is not against the idea; stubbornness simply wins out. ]
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Aye, I am well aware of that. Which is precisely why I want to see your pretty lips form the words "Pahja, please".
( She drags out the whine, catching his lower lip between her teeth and dragging it out after, in emphasis. He might protest that they don't have long, but Pahja is confident enough that she can make him beg for her in that time. After all, he seems wont to put up rough front for a softer, truer self.
Using it against him in this manner is probably unwise, all told, but if she has one shot at this she's simply going to use all that she has at her disposal. Which means continuing to stroke him, occasionally letting the tips of her nails scrape over him. Demanding, but at a slow and steady pace without much in the way of urgency.
She will take her time. )
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Oh, is this some fair trade for you having to make requests from me before? Poor form for a supposed hero, stealing into my rooms at night and making demands of my virtue.
[ There is a determination to him that is betrayed only by the way his cock twitches as he looks at her, a desire that he is fighting with - his own nature versus his wants, the knowledge that he might gain an experience born of nothing short of pure pleasure. The idea of having to lay low his pride, however, is not something that he is quite able to suppress.
He could simply magick her the way he wants, have her on her back, clothes removed, but it seems such a barbaric thing to do when he is sure he might wait her out. She wants as much as he does, after all, and he has lived for eons. He can live longer.
Surely. ]
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Yes, you've caught me. No hero am I, but a woman bent upon finding those most in need of a lesson of humility. And you, Hades, are the most in need in all of Elpis.
( He is right about one thing: he has lived for eons. But as someone unexperienced -- by choice, yes -- but inexperienced all the same. Pahja thinks that gives her an advantage. And if he wishes to have her rather than the other way around, well. She won't complain so long as he is the one who breaks first.
But she can feel that he is not unmoved. That only encourages her, and she leans forward to bite and tug at his earlobe if he will let her get close. Another tease as her grip on his cock tightens, dragging her hand up and down slightly faster but still slow, achingly so. )
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There is no need for humility when I recognise my talents as they are. It would be foolish to do anything else.
[ But, oh, she is quite the tease, a temptation he can barely resist, and while this all seems to be moving at the speed of creation itself he cannot find a way to shrug off his want to force himself to be tight and controlled. It is not simply a desire to make her work for it - it is knowledge that he does not want to appear weak.
Especially in something so new.
Still, his hips jerk, just a little, his breathing hitching, just enough that it's a sign of weakness. ]
I have no desire to simply relent.
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No, no. You would not be Emet-Selch if you did. ( That she will give him as she continues to drag her hand up and down him, squeezing now here and there -- uneven. She can sense his weakness, the fact he is not as unaffected as he would wish to convince her. ) For I have ever had to exert myself to prove myself to you. But I won against your vaunted might then, and will do so now.
( A breath, and then she leans in further, wondering if she can work herself to the heart of the matter. )
It isn't weakness, to give into what you want. Oh, Emet, you never have to worry about that. Not with me, I promise.
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Certainly not. [ He is shaking, just a little, some movement to his shoulders, his eyes flickering just so - he's not entirely unaffected by her touches and the softness of her voice. He looks at her, eyes wide and wanting, until he blinks it away.
Swallowing, he leans back, but there's not much space for it. ]
Did I say it was weakness? It is determination, dogged determination.
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tsundere baby time
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