chef_chocobro | The Opposite-of-Abandoned but Definition-of-Creepy Mansion in the Woods; Wednesday Morning [07/30].

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The Opposite-of-Abandoned but Definition-of-Creepy Mansion in the Woods; Wednesday Morning [07/30].

If Liliana had just remained a cat this whole time these past two weeks, then Ignis would likely be fine with it, even with all the dead mice that had been left proudly for him, especially in their bed, which he could at least understand as the gesture it was meant to be. But there was something about having had her turn back oh-so-briefly last Thursday, only to revert back to her current feline state, that made everything exceptionally harder.

Though he would admit a certain respect for the dedication to academic pursuits/complaining about ancient assholes.

Which basically meant that the mansion was spotless, the pantry was filled with fresh baked goods and everyone's freezers had all sorts of prepped meals stuffed into them, he had at least two semesters' worth of lesson plans if he ever did start teaching again, and the training room was getting some extensive and intensive use these morning. Ignis had been so dogged and determined in nailing the drills that even Gladio was getting a little winded and wondering if maybe they should take it easy.

Which meant Prompto was practically dying, groaning as he plopped down on the floor and spread out his limbs, crying mercy.

"I'm too young to go this early!" he declared. "I have children! Do you want Liz to be a widow?"

"Well," Gladio offered, giving Prompto's foot a small nudge with his own, before offering out a hand to pull him up, "on the bright side, at least she won't have to change her wardrobe much for mourning."

"We've almost got it to perfection," Ignis insisted. "Just a few more times, and--"

"--and we're just going to get more tired and make mistakes, which makes it harder to get there," Gladio countered. "Aren't you the one who's always harping on us about pushing past our limits?"

"Oh," Ignis huffed slightly, "I haven't likely said that in years."

"Not for yourself, maybe," Prompto pointed out, and there was a bit of a pause, and Ignis sighed.

"Let's just run it five mor--" His words were buried in groans. "Three more times, and we'll have ourselves a break."

"Or," Prompto tried, "call it a day."

"Well, we'll finish the job once we do it right, then. Come on. Liven up. Practice makes perfect."

"Practice," Prompto murmured, mostly to himself, maybe a little to Gladio, "makes me want to just shoot a guy right in the butt."

"I heard that."

[[ for the lady of the house, please! and if you don't expect this to go NFSW then I don't know what you think you were reading... ]]

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For her part, Liliana had sauntered into the training room at some point during this nonsense, and claimed a bit of equipment for herself. Not to use, no, but as a perch upon which to alternate between napping and watching the goings on with an unimpressed air of catlike superiority. She would never be so foolish as to spend her time with all this loud fuss and bother. In fact, as they geared up for yet another go, Liliana finally bestirred herself, laying out a path to the door that maximized both potential underfootness and items to knock over on route. Let them continue their training; Liliana had finished decimating the mouse population in the woods around the mansion and it was time to bring feline devastation to a new front: the songbirds that thought themselves safe up in their trees and comfortable in their nests.

Perhaps Ignis would be better pleased with being presented fledglings in their bed than he'd been with mice.

Thoughts turned pleasantly towards mischief and murder, Liliana rose to her feet with a beeg stretch--

--and promptoly turned back into a woman. "Fucking hell--!" she yelped, all previous plans forgotten as she did her level best to cling to her perch and not topple ingloriously to the floor.

And congratulations, Prompto, you almost did get your shot on Ignis's posterior as that sudden shift and following exclamation had him halting in his tracks. Of course, they'd been doing the drill enough that he knew were the shot was heading, thus able to halt strategically to avoid such a butt blast, but it was a very near thing.

"Out," he said, firmly and demandingly as his gears shifted on a pinpoint. "Everyone out. Training's finished. Do remember to stretch on the way out lest your muscles regret it."

"Aw, come on, Igs!" said Gladio, grinning, with a passing glance Liliana's way (that was, in part, genuinely to make sure she was okay). "Didn't you say at least three more times? I feel like I could go for twenty! What do you think, Prompto?"

Prompto was still coming out of a stumble from the sudden abruptly halt in the sequence of the drill, blinking his eyes as he tried to catch up with what happened. "Wha--? Twenty? I--Oh!"

Did clamping his eyes shut, throwing a hand over them, and turning around negate the eyeful he got in that split second of his eyes widening with realization? "S-sorry!" he stammered out.

But Ignis waa ignoring them both entirely on his way to Liliana.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Rather better than I've been in the last two weeks," Liliana replied, reaching for Ignis so he could help her down. Her near-spill had been much more of a concern than her nudity ever could be; getting down onto the ground proper was her first concern and if the bros remained present long enough to get a show out of it, we'll, they were welcome for the view as well as the reprieve.

"Prompto, Gladio. Hello darlings, and, more importantly, goodbye."

Her second concern was kissing the breath out of her fiancé, which she was doing just as soon as her feet hit solid ground.

"Yes, indeed," Ignis agreed, his utter relief preventing the drawl from being too dry, "goodb--"

Well, the rest didn't make it out of him, because every last shred of his attention that might have been on anything else in the room was being swept away and drowned in the undertow of that kiss. Surely, they'd have still gotten the message, though, and should they stil linger, they were very likely to get even more of a show than just the glimpses of Liliana in an undressed state.

"Aw, come on, you two," Gladio needled, "not in front of the kid."

There was a moment before Prompto realized that Gladio was referring to him as the kid in this situation. "Hey!"

Gladio patted his back and started guiding Prompto toward the door. "You're welcome!" he shouted back at Liliana before they did take their leave. "Got him all nice and warmed up and limber for you, too, Lils!"

"Aw, come on!" Prompto's complaint followed them as they left the two of them to it.

And Ignis was going to be very upset if this was also going to be another fleeting tease of a shift back, and was clearly going to make the most of it now in kissing Liliana just in case...

Prompto and Gladio who?

"Miss me?" she murmured in between soul-devouring kisses, her hands clutching at him with a quiet kind of desperation, as if she could stave off yet another transformation by clinging to him.

She didn't feel like she was about to turn back into a cat, but then she hadn't felt that way any of the other times, either.

"Always," came the inevitable response, far more rumble than actual word,; it felt as though it still hummed there on his lips as Ignis buried his face into her neck, kissing along her throat, savoring in the fact that she once again was herself. That she smelled like Liliana, tasted like her and felt like her under the fierce grip of his eager hands. His Liliana. And hopefully for good this time, or, at the very least, blissfully without a class to have to attend to immediately this time.

Although if this had been Thursday before class again, he would be very compelled to destroy her entire syllabus over the matter and not feel the least bit bad about it, either.

(Well, okay. Maybe a little bit bad about it, but it would be microscopic levels of guilt, indeed.)

Has she known her sojourn back to humanity would be so brief, she would have done the same last week. More fool her,taking for granted that she would have all the time she needed.

One would think she'd have learned this already.

Mmm, but thoughts for later, once his lips stopped being so enticing on her skin, his hands stopped drawing out soft sighs. She began moving, step by slow, savored step, easing them both towards the door of the training room. Or perhaps just to the wall next to it. "Good," she replied, head falling backwards, tickling his hands and forearms with the silk of her hair. "I was without you for entirely too long..."

Then perhaps those thoughts might never have the chance to surface in Liliana's mind, as Ignis clearly had no intention of ceasing. Not his lips, nor his hands, nor anything else for a good, long while. Even as sweaty and exhausted as he was from tiredlessly running drills mere moments before, a new drive had been ignited within him.

His hands did, however, depart, but for a fleeting moment, so that by the time they did reach the wall of the training room, it was his own bare shoulders that met it, so that when those hands dutifully, eagerly returned to her, to pull her in close, it would be her cool flesh against his, flushed and heated, all the while those deep, hungry kisses relented, interrupted only but briefly for that pesky necessity of breathing, the occasional soft moan of longing.

And words, spoken low and deep on those breaths. "And only an eternity," he murmured, "to try and make up for it."

He might have peeled off his shirt, but it was Liliana who claimed his glasses, plucking them from his face and placing them on something as they passed, giving neither any more thought than that. Her hands needed to be on his face, tracing over the contours, brushing over his scars, even briefly tracing over his lips in those few moments when they were separated from her own.

"It's only forever," she quoted, "not long at all..." before pulling him back to to her, hands skimming away from his dear, most beloved face, down his neck and over his shoulders, before her nails dug into the skin of his back, far too long neglected.

She drank in his heat, her own flesh warming under his, drank in his desire, returning and magnifying it. "Don't make me wait," she groaned, uncaring that yes, he had her, Liliana Vess, begging for him.

It was deserved.

He'd return the favor later.

That familiar sensation of Liliana's nails in his back still managed to pull a hiss of pain from Ignis, but it just as soon melted into a grin, a small sound hungry for more, and a return of at least that favor in sinking his teeth into her throat.

"Make you wait?" There was a teasing bite in these words murmured into her ear now, as well, in this challenge for her claim to deeper suffering in this matter.

Not that it would matter soon, anyway. Especially with the convenient ease at which his training clothes could be removed, waiting was simply a risk Ignis had no intention of taking.

Maybe she was just making sure that he, ever-patient, didn't get any bright ideas about playing games of denial and restraint right now. Now was not the time for the bite of rhubarb amidst the thick sweetness of strawberries...

She whimpered as his teeth sank into her throat, eyes sliding shut from sensation, nails dragging along his spine. Her hips ground against his, wordlessly repeating her demand. She could just shove his pants away herself, but that would take her hands away from claiming the territory of his back, which she thought they were both quite enjoying at the moment.

But another few heartbeats apart and she might have to take matters into her own hands, as it were.

That simply was the issue, in a matter like this, just not nearly enough hands between the two of them to go around. But Ignis always had prided himself in being quick and agile and, most of all, efficient, and there would be plenty of time for patience and denial much, much, much later, thank you.

For now, all he wanted was her, to be with her, as close as humanly possible. He made up for the regretful absence of his hands to shed that last remaining barrier between them by returning them as quickly as he could to her to, sliding down her back and around to her thighs to lift her up to wrap her legs around him...and, oh, the tighter, the better, and he had no doubt those legs would a nearly crushingly gripping vice as he slid into Liliana as deeply as his grateful groan and a mouth desperately seeking her own.

"'Nys," Liliana moaned as she took fully took him up to the hilt in one single, easy glide. He got his wish, her legs wrapping tightly around his hips, body already starting to move in his embrace. Imagine keeping still when he felt this good, couldn't be Liliana.

She gave him her mouth as completely and eagerly as she'd given him her body, kissing him with all the desperation that came with not actually knowing if this was a brief reprieve of the island's chicanery, and all the need that came with two weeks' worth of separation. She might not have been aware of them in quite the same way when she'd been a cat, but she felt them all quite keenly now.

They frequently talked about finding and falling into one another's rhythm, and it was no different here. The rhythm she set here was heavy, demanding, almost harsh, and she invited him to meet her in it, stroke for stroke. His mouth claiming hers left her unable to speak aloud, but the way she gripped and clutched suggested two words.

The first? Harder.

The second? Mine.

"'Iana..."

Both words were understood with crystal-clear clarity, because they were the same words driving Ignis in his pursuit of consuming every inch of Liliana and of being fully consumed. Two weeks, in the grand scheme of things, was such an infinitesimal amount of time, but in these moments, it felt like a wonder that he'd managed to even survive a day (much less his entire lifetime until now) without her. And he was certainly not letting having her back go to waste or for granted.

He did have a passing thought that perhaps the training room could benefit from having a few more readily available tables or even a nice chaise, but, for now, turning so that Liliana's back was against the wall was hardly an inferior strategy. Plenty of tables and chaises to take advantage of later.

They had an entire creepy mansion to take advantage of later. Tables and chaises, kitchen counters and ottomans to be bent over, breakfast nook benches and bannisters and beds, even!

Liliana was far past the point of stray thoughts herself beyond a gasped out, "Yes," though later she would be glad that this wall was lacking any decor that could have been knocked off during their enthusiastic reunion against it. A concussion from a falling picture frame would have been the last straw, honestly. But in the absence of any such danger, Liliana was able to show her appreciation of this well-executed maneuver by threading her hand into his hair and tugging his head backwards to reveal his throat to her. "Love you," she murmured and proved it by sinking her teeth into the sensitive flesh there.

Not to keep quiet, Abyss no. She had no problems taking her pleasures loud enough for the house to echo with her cries. But she was quickly reaching the point where that was all she would be able to do, swept up and away by the riptide of climax and before she gave into the delightful inevitable.

It certainly was a good thing they'd wound up on the side of the door without the weapons rack, indeed.

The words I love you in return had been right there, ready to leap from his tongue to his lips after building on a rough, husky breath in his throat. But those hands in his hair pulling back his head sent it back to where it formed, her teeth digging into his throat locked it in place as it took new shape and only escaped once it had reformed and buried itself in the long, needy groan that slipped out instead.

And in each subsequent grunt with each newly focused thrust, faster and faster, and harder, building on this long drought of a couple of weeks, without her touch, without the sound of her voice, or the ghost of her smile in his mind. On the cruel tease that had been last Thursday. On how it barely mattered now, anyway, because now they were here, together, as they always would be. Building and building on her quickened breaths and ringing cries, and his own far more reserved (though, truly, only by comparrison) contribution toward the music and that crescendo into the sweet release of bliss.

Only then did those words form again on his lips, emerging from that final bellow that didn't seem to know the meaning of the word reserved, repeated and echoed with each kiss to her throat, her neck, her collarbone.

"Love you, 'Iana. My 'Iana. I love you, my gods, I love you."

Oh how she delighted any time Ignis took a sledgehammer to the wall of his reserved and smashed another part of it away. She rested her head against his, eyes closed, the flush of exertion and desire high in her cheeks, and resulting in a warmth that she hadn't need to steal from him.

Steal. Ha. As if Ignis ever denied her anything; he gave of himself so freely and unstintingly that she sometimes almost felt guilty for how selfish she was in return.

Sometimes. Almost.

"A good thing you already proposed, no?" she asked with a small huff of a laugh, her legs still wrapped around him. She was in no hurry to get down. In fact, she was tempted to suggest he move them somewhere else and begin again. "What this moment lacks in romantic ambience..." She pressed kisses of her own upon him: his hairline, his forehead, his ears, the line of his jaw, "...it certainly makes up for her in fervor."

Ignis was also in no rush to move from this spot, the move against the wall proving not only effective, but pleasantly supportive in this pleasantly exhausted aftermath.

"I could always propose again," he pointed out, his voice still in that deep, rumbling register from his breathlessness, made even more so with the chuckle that followed it. Smiling, he rested his forehead against hers a moment before stealing one of those scattered kisses back for his ever-greedy lips.

Leaving her with no choice but to remain wrapped around him, legs crossed at her ankles around his waist, arms loose over his shoulders. She was not worried about him continuing to hold her upright; the wiry strength in his lithe muscles was one of things she'd been attracted to near immediately.

"But I'm using that mouth," she said with a breathy chuckle, hot on the heels of a particularly lewd kiss. "For things other than talking."

For example, giving him a second one, deep and heavy, her tongue stroking over his, before reaching up to brush over his teeth. It did nothing now, but once before, when he'd had fangs to tease and toy with...

Well, and one lewd kiss (or two or three or more) deserved another, and while there may not be sharp fangs there to play with yet, Ignis's teeth were still more than capable of playing back, with a soft nip, and another less soft one for the bottom of her lip, pulling back with a downright smirk.

"Darling," he said, "need I remind you," another kiss, another tug of her lip with his teeth before it found its way to that favorite spot below her ear to sink his teeth into, "that I can be incredibly efficient," a tug now on her ear lobe, and he pulled back from the wall, leaning forward slightly with a hand sliding down her thigh to guide her to unravel those glorious legs from around him, to set her down, which also put him in an excellent position to direct the next kiss against her collarbone, "at multitasking when I feel so inclined?"

There was just a brief moment, for her to wonder, if she hadn't figured it out yet, what exactly he might be up to before he began with her name.

"Liliana Vess..."

His hands brushing hair back from her shoulder, drifting down to her breasts, and his mouth, following suit, taking their time in the slow and dedicated march down. If she hadn't realized it yet, surely she would soon, lips brushing kisses across her stomach as his hands rounded her hips.

After all, traditionally speaking, it was done on one's knees, was it not? He'd taken the one before, but now he took two. He became momentarily distracted with the heat of her inner thigh, not sure whether he'd prefer to kiss there or bite there, and so he did both, before turning his head upwards so she could see his face as he asked:

"Will you marry me?"

He didn't wait for a response before his mouth found its goal, thougg he suspected his own stroking, brushing tongue would certainly help one along.

From the way she momentarily resisted unwinding her legs from around him and being set down, it was safe to say that she hadn't figured out his game. Not until he said her name, which had her smiling at his playfulness...and then, with a sharp intake of breath, that smile became much sharper, as his mouth worked its way down her body. By the time he was grasping her hips, it had become a full on smirk, her fingers losing themselves in his hair once more.

Oh, an excellent gambit indeed. A perfect encapsulation of why she was marrying him.

He was clever. He was a consummate opponent. He was sexy as all hells. And he was utterly, completely devoted to her and her pleasure.

She didn't answer right away, preferring to let him lick the answer out of her. But when it came, it was a series of most emphatic, enthusiastic yeses, delivered repeated and at high volume. One leg slung over his shoulder, the hands in his hair keeping his face firmly planted where she wanted it - no needed it - most, and soon her answer was supplanted by yet more cries and also instructions.

"I--I want--I want to come on your tongue," she groaned. "And then feel you inside me once more so I can come around you again...please, 'Nys...I want to feel you deep."

Ignis always did excel when it came to following detailed and direct instructions, and for all his talk of multitasking, he really did his finest work with a singular, laser-honed focus on a singular series of tasks.

Not that he needed the instructions, already intent exploring how every move, every flick, every twitch of his tongue altered the tone and timber, the volume and vivacity of her answer, until he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was quite satisfied with it. That please in particular pulled a hungry, muffled groan and gave that extra push to refouble his effort just that subtle bit more.

The only question that did linger in his mind was whether or not to give her a moment to catch her breath before drawing himself up again to drag her with him onto a nearby chair or not.

That question was allowed when she was still recovering from a battle with an Eldrazi titan, recovering from a brush far too close to death even before taking the Chain Veil into consideration. Now? When she was hale and healthy and, most importantly, hungry for him and him alone?

No. No moments. No breathing. She wanted to be overwhelmed by him, even as she wanted to surround him like quicksand and drag him down down down into the glorious dark with her.

The only question he should be asking himself was if he wanted to settle with her facing him, all the better to kiss him, to ride him, or facing away from him, which opened up the entire canvas of her body for him to play with.

Either way, one or the other of them was getting dragged to that chair post-haste.

Just as this was no time for moments or the catching of breath, it was also not the time for deprivation. Depravity, perhaps, but Ignis had no intention of keeping himself from more of Liliana's lips if he didn't have to.

And he made that very clear when he slumped back into the chair and pulled her with him into one of those devouring kisses that he wouldn't be able to get enough of that day, even when his jaw positively aches for respite.

There was always time for depravity in the creepy mansion in the woods--time and also inclination.

Liliana gracefully slid into his lap, straddling him with slick thighs, tongue darting out to taste the sheen on his lips before surrendering into that kiss. One hand drifted to his jaw, thumb rubbing gentle circles along the length, while her other hand drifted to his lap, concerning itself with a different length of its own. Her cool fingers gathered some of the wetness that had collected between her legs, then wrapped around him in a firm grip. Liliana was selfish, yes, in so many ways, but when it came to sharing pleasure, she was as generous and profligate as Christmas morning.

Especially with him.

A few strokes to feel how his body moved and strained under hers, and then that clever hand was guiding him inside her until their bodies were once more flush against each other. Her breath caught, then escaped in a reedy moan of his name, and then her mouth occupied itself with his once more as she began, not to ride, but to grind.

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The Opposite-of-Abandoned but Definition-of-Creepy Mansion in the Woods; Wednesday Morning [07/30].

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