Only 3 choices

[quickied]

FUCK*, MARRY, OR KILL
a game with a twist



You know the game: now, let’s dabble in a version that’s a little bit unusual.

how to play
○ Do the comment do.
○ Folks line up to say whether they would fuck* (*kiss, if your character's underage or you're not into R-rated dialogue), marry, or kill your guy.
○ Rinse. Repeat. ♾️

Comments

[immaterialgirl]

Beg for it, hm? [there's a small problem with getting her own hand down her pants, and unfortunately it's the whole damn belt. the control packs that power all the little regulatory lights throughout the rest of her suit. the harness and the skirts all attached. it was designed to keep secure during fights, and not really for... this in mind.

she huffs slightly, working her fingers back and forth through the layers, enough to get her so very aroused as he watches, and not enough to provide the level of satisfaction she's really seeking.] If you want it off, you're going to have to do the begging. [her other hand rests over her thick chestplate, cupping over where her breasts are hidden.]

[dimestore]

[ john nods his head. because he'd love to hear it but he's also willing to do the begging too. the thought just crosses his mind as she says it. he removes his hands from his jeans and steps closer; he's careful though, giving her ample time to move away.

he doesn't touch her, but gets down on his knees and looks up at her. he's close enough to see the truth thick, bulky nature of her suit. he gets her frustration, how hard she's trying to pleasure herself through it. he licks his lips and catches her gaze once more. ]

Do you want me to try? [ he asks, figuring he might be able to get some stimulation going if he presses hard enough. ]

[immaterialgirl]

[it's a disappointed little pout, at first, when he removes his hand. because excuse you, she was enjoying that. but he's coming in closer, and she does put one heel back instinctively... but she doesn't step into it. remains very still as she tries to figure out his intentions.

the down on his knees part is not at all what she anticipated, and it stirs at her arousal the way he looks up at her as she continues to rub at herself. Ava blinks, feeling so heated underneath all those constricting layers, how it all itches at her skin in her desire to just be free of it so she can finally feel something. at least the front of her pants by nature of having to be flexible enough for movement isn't as stiff as so much of her suit is. and she does have ways of getting them down, it's just...]

... Please. [oh, wait, that comes out more of a plea than she expected, and she grasps roughly at one of his shoulders. to keep him there? to keep herself steady, really.]

[dimestore]

[ john is doing his best to appear non=threatening. she has the power here and he hopes it's working. he hopes she likes to see a man submit because it's doing a lot for him. john likes control but he also likes being told what to do.

he grins at the way she practically whines for it. his movements are slow and careful. he knows she can't feel the touch but he does it anyway, runs a hand up her leg. he's ever so slightly forceful when he grabs her hard butt to pull her closer. his other hand is slow up the inside of her leg where it meets hers to guide it for a second. ]

Can you take a glove off? [ he asks gently, looking up at her. ] Just... wondering.

[ john slips his hand between hers and the tough material of her suit without waiting for an answer. it's not nearly as hard as he thought it might be but... he can see why she'd be frustrated. he holds her ass in place as he gently presses against her clit through her suit. he's careful to watch her, trying to find the right spot, pressure and pace. ]

[immaterialgirl]

[it does help to feel like she's in control of this situation, when so much of her life was having it taken away from her. especially regarding her body. it does make her feel jittery, when his hand brushes up her thigh. she knows all sorts of moves she could respond with, if this were a fight, but because breaking his neck isn't the end goal... she lets him pull her in, doesn't knee him right in the jaw for it. just grips at his shoulder tighter.

luckily he seems far more aware of what he's doing, how to proceed by slipping that hand between. even the palm of her hand is partially encased by the rigid gauntlet, which she'd have to remove first if she had any hope of removing her gloves too.] Have to unclip... [it's a frustrating design. she curls fingers tightly over John's own as he applies pressure. not to stop him, but because she wants more of the contact.

it's quite obvious when he hits the right spot in the right way, because her entire body flickers, and she wobbles on the heels of her boots.] O-oh...! What was... [her legs spread further. more than just trying to get a more steady stance.]

[dimestore]

[ it's interesting to watch the way she processes the sensations. he wonders, not for the first time, if actual physical touch might overwhelm her after having to wear the suit so often. ]

We can make this work. [ he mumbles, shaking his head to reassure her. ] Just... tell me if it's too much.

[ he barely has the sentence out when she flickers beneath his touch. john can't help but grin. it's hard to keep a natural rhythm but he does his best. he presses his knuckle against her clit, making slow and steady circles to start. his other hand slips from her ass, a little forward for better traction. he ends up half gripping her thigh and part of her ass.

he tries different pressures, different speeds and even repositions his fingers a couple times. ]