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[ingeniar]

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USERNAME: STARK

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[nightsung]

Some of the villagers need my healing. But I got--

[ Distracted, by the swell of a pretty girl's tits under her blouse. And now her own skirts are bunched around her waist, and the pretty girl's fingers aren't as skilled as she needs, fumbling at her folds instead of knuckle deep. ]

Tell him I told him to touch you.

[ingeniar]

He says, and I quote, "nice try". I think you're going to have to provide more carrot than stick here.

[nightsung]

He won't be able to do much else with his hands in the meantime, will he?

[ingeniar]

He just poked himself with a needle. Did you do that?

[nightsung]

Unless he's using the needle to get you off, I suppose I did.

Has he ever touched you before? Without me there?

[ingeniar]

Yeah, but that was different.

Are you going to go back to your bad boy?

[nightsung]

Different how?

[ And then, a little petty, a little hurt-- ]

Do you want me to?

[ingeniar]

Slower.

No, I don't want you to. But you're going to. He's going to take your heart out and eat it.

[nightsung]

[ Delayed, while Shadowheart extricates herself from the girl who's giving her nothing, leaving her only with a slow build of frustration. ]

Maybe he already has.

Maybe you're chained to a heartless girl who just wants to use your mouth and your cock.

[ingeniar]

Worse things to be. At least you're alive. I don't mind that you want to use me.

[nightsung]

Mm. If I were dead, you'd go down with me.

How should I use you, then? In detail.

[ingeniar]

Right now? I'd let you climb into my lap. I'd touch you wherever you wanted to be touched, get you good and warm, though I bet you're probably feeling that already. Then you can do whatever you want. I think I'd want to see your face while you work yourself up and down. The wizard can watch too.

[nightsung]

I'll let you come inside me, if you lick it all up after.

Or maybe Stephen should get the privilege of tasting you on my lips. If he's putting his hands to good use, like I asked.

[ingeniar]

He's rubbing my foot. Going to give it a 5/10, don't know if I'd recommend it.
Hold on.

[ He's going to turn this into a phone call, actually. And put it on speaker on the couch next to him. Once she picks up: ]

Still there, little cricket?

[rehandle]

[ A disgruntled mumble - the betrayal: ]

She doesn't get pet names while she's holding me hostage.

[ Petty, but not upset. At least not about anything other than the impromptu interruption of his sewing project. ]

[ingeniar]

[ Immediately, sorry Shadowheart: ]

Hey, I'm pretty sure I remember you volunteering -- ow, watch the toes! Who taught you to give foot rubs? You need to go back to school. Wizard massage lessons.

[nightsung]

[ Little cricket sparks the smallest warmth in her, even as her ever-present grey threatens to snuff it out. Shadowheart holds fast, the ember burning her hands. ]

Surely you can do better than a five out of ten, Stephen.

If you can't, I can always keep Tony to myself when I get home. You can listen through the door, if you like.

[rehandle]

[ He's about to argue that she's got his hands, not his legs— then recalls that doors have handles.

😤

No verbal retort, but he jabs a thumb hard into the arch of Tony's foot in silent protest before following it with a more appropriate, focused application of slow, sweeping pressure. ]

[ingeniar]

[ The poke earns another ow!, but Tony is an easy mark for the rest of it. With an effort, he turns his attention back to the phone. ]

Hey, tell me more about what we're gonna do when you get home. Or what you're doing right now. Paint us a picture.

[nightsung]

[ She listens to the quiet creak of the sofa, the shift of fabric as the two men settle together. Hers. ]

I might ask for a foot massage, if Stephen's technique improves.

I'd like to lie down when I get home. So I'm wondering which one of you wants his head between my thighs, ass up on the bed while the other fingers him open.

[ingeniar]

Whoa, okay -- [ Over and around any contribution Stephen wants to make to that particular idea. ] Can I volunteer? Do we have to fight over it? Feel free to get interested, by the way, if you need my permission --

[ The last part directed at the man next to him, as he pointedly presses his foot more firmly into his lap. ]

[rehandle]

[ Which is fine, because Stephen was busy stuttering into a stunned stillness and wide-eyed silence that Tony's swift interjection does very little to remedy. His foot does, though, breath huffed out over a flinch, eyes gone unfocused for a second as he weathers the two-pronged attack of contact and verbal welcome.

Of course meaning he has to get his own back. One hand locks the offending foot in place, thumb working firmly, precisely now into the ball of it while his other hand circles Tony's ankle, journeying up under his pant leg, mapping out a trail along his calf. ]

He can have it. [ He says, trying not to think too hard about literally anything while endeavouring to make direct eye contact with the he in question. ] I might as well test out your teaching.

I promise to remind him how you like it once he starts getting sloppy.

[nightsung]

Someone's eager. [ Teasing, but there's a note of softness there. Fondness. Shadowheart knows it will start to hurt shortly, when warmth for anyone but Saber feels like fingers dug into bruised ribs, but it's worth it, to stay--something closer to human. For a moment, at least. ]

Maybe I should have snuck more toys into the village. Do you think we'd all be able to feel it? If one of us was plugged for each other?

[ingeniar]

Jesus Christ -- [ A slightly breathless blasphemy with unclear origins, courtesy of Shadowheart's dirty mind or what Stephen's doing with his hands, or maybe both. Maybe the way his desire for them feels suddenly huge and hollow, a bottomless pit that will never be filled, but aches for it nonetheless.

Tony straightens up on the couch, gaze locked on Stephen. He's starting to become aware that he's allowed himself to be pinned down from both sides, metaphorically speaking. Maybe literally speaking pretty soon. ]

We can all feel it, right? When everyone's.. into it. So, stands to reason that we'd all be able to.. uh.. [ Okay, he's getting distracted. ]

[rehandle]

Mhmm.

[ And just like that, the tables turn. The shocked uncertainty of a moment before is gone, smoothed out into steady eye contact, the subtle impression of a smirk. ]

Hey, little cricket? [ It doesn't sound the same as when Tony says it. Maybe that's because it's coming from the wrong mouth, or maybe it's because he's using it to punish him. A prelude to what comes next. ] Can you feel this?

[ Stephen shifts in his seat so he can slide his hand further up Tony's pant leg, blunt nails over hair and skin, squeezing tight into the calf muscle once he finds new purchase. His other hand hinges Tony's foot back down so he can roll up into it, jaw going loose, the precise shape and size of the attention he's paying clear through taut fabric and dim, fresh pleasure scattering out between them. ]