honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
He’s sure. He’s more than sure when they step into the room and the door slams shut behind them. He’s flooded with all sorts of sensations, smell and taste and everything else he’s gotten so used to not having. It’s like when your leg wakes up after it’s been asleep for some time, the needles stinging in such a way that promises relief after so long as you charge through it. And charge through he does.
He forgets how heavy the metal arm is, how cold it is in comparison to the rest of everything, how odd it feels in comparison to the regular hand that remains braced against the door. He shivers and shudders as he lets everything else in, the sensation of need and lust combining in with his mental state to make something that’s nearly feral. It’s a relief, though, evident in how he shivers more as she presses herself against him and Varus sucks down a sharp breath, metal arm tensing against the door as he feels her kiss. It’s different this time for him, different because he can feel how soft her lips are now, how her hands carry a softness as well as callouses from her work.
He forgets he’s wearing his mask, forgets how the clothes seem far too tight, especially around his hips as her hands dip lower. Better. Good. He manages to grit out, sucking down another breath and turns quite quickly with blue eyes shadowed in lust and desire, hands abandoning the door in favor for touching her now that he can. He’s careful with the metal one before it warms up, but the other tugs Isla closer by her hips. It’s been a while for me, Isla. It’s a low rumble, almost an apology if it weren’t purred and sultry. Already he’s quick to find the hem of her shirt, to try and tug it off over her head, to let his fingers roam along the expanse of soft skin and drink her in.
He forgets how heavy the metal arm is, how cold it is in comparison to the rest of everything, how odd it feels in comparison to the regular hand that remains braced against the door. He shivers and shudders as he lets everything else in, the sensation of need and lust combining in with his mental state to make something that’s nearly feral. It’s a relief, though, evident in how he shivers more as she presses herself against him and Varus sucks down a sharp breath, metal arm tensing against the door as he feels her kiss. It’s different this time for him, different because he can feel how soft her lips are now, how her hands carry a softness as well as callouses from her work.
He forgets he’s wearing his mask, forgets how the clothes seem far too tight, especially around his hips as her hands dip lower. Better. Good. He manages to grit out, sucking down another breath and turns quite quickly with blue eyes shadowed in lust and desire, hands abandoning the door in favor for touching her now that he can. He’s careful with the metal one before it warms up, but the other tugs Isla closer by her hips. It’s been a while for me, Isla. It’s a low rumble, almost an apology if it weren’t purred and sultry. Already he’s quick to find the hem of her shirt, to try and tug it off over her head, to let his fingers roam along the expanse of soft skin and drink her in.
VARUS
