#phosgrey

Masha traces a finger down in a lazy trail over Will's chest. She revels in the emergence of goosebumps in her wake — revenge, she thinks. My turn to make him shiver. He hums idly beneath her — a tired attempt at a giggle, maybe, worn-out and sensitive and ticklish from their night. She simpers, lets her fingers flutter back up from where they rested over his ribs. He hums again, this time interrupted with a badly-suppressed gasp as she reaches one of his nipples. He arches into the touch — only slightly, chest raising just subtly enough that it could probably be passed off as a deep inhale — and Masha swallows the urge to tongue at the pebbled flesh.

He sees through her anyways. "Go on," he urges, amusement tinging his voice. He threads a gentle hand through her mussy hair to pull her closer to his warmth. "I can tell you want to, you weird little vampire."

She actually wasn't intending to bite him at this moment — a rarity for her — but she eagerly accepts the invitation to do so. She lets him bring her in, grinning toothily against his skin. She can't blame him for the nickname. Their previous... encounters frequently resulted in her nibbling any exposed skin of his she could find, licking soothingly at his neck afterwards. He had a small mole on his collarbone — a raised little speckle on his warm bistre-brown skin — which he was apparently very self-conscious about, but Masha found she loved to tongue at quite dearly. Okay, not love. They were not doing... love. Masha did not do love.

She broke out of her train of thought by sinking her teeth into his pec. There was nothing that quieted her mind quite like the feeling of her mouth being filled — meaning that it was not something she let others partake in often. Back in school, she would take Farah's fingers into her mouth, which was also simple practicality, given the thinness of the dorm walls. Even then, there was a strong sense of her letting Farah do so. If she was turning her brain off, it would have to be on her terms. Will didn't seemed bothered by that, though Masha suspected that may be in part because he experienced sexual attraction differently to her — or maybe that was just her reading too many people's opinions on social media. Objectively bad practice, she figured, to look up your nemesis with benefits. Oh well.

Technically, Will isn't even her nemesis. His team, yes, but they were a nuisance more than anything. The only one who really matters — other than the one she is currently tonguing at, she supposes — is Osmosis. Masha wasn't sure what bothers her so much about xem, but the thought of the hero has her sucking a deep mark into Will's skin, forgetting to mind the force she uses.

He groans beneath her, and she gives him an apologetic little kiss over the mark, patting his hip fondly as she does so. His moan trails into a delightful giggle, which she joins upon hearing his whispered, "such a vampire..."

She goes and bites (with more control) the same spot on the opposite side of his chest, before pinning him with the hand at his hip. She trails down, nibbling at him as she goes, before finally sinking her teeth around the roll of fat over his stomach, sucking eagerly.

They're both still laughing a bit, and he strokes her hair affectionately before speaking. "Why are you such a tease?" he asks.

She looks up at him, a thin trail of saliva between her smirk and his chest. "Why do you still sound so unaffected?" She — quite maturely, she'd like to note — decides against batting her eyes as she speaks. Despite the flirting, she isn't actually aiming for another round — she can barely feel her legs as is — yet his voice remains anachronistically smooth, despite having spent a good hour or so eating her out. It's unfair, frankly — she's glad he wasn't around when she and Farah were together, her voice always got so hoarse, even without going at it as long as Will was. But then her mind goes to the thought of Farah and Will, at the same time, and somehow that mutates and corrupts and turns into — fucking HELL — Will and Osmosis, and Masha abruptly pushes herself off Will, sitting back on her heels.

"Bath time," she decides, nodding to herself.

Will's eyes narrow in aroused suspicion. "What, precisely, do you plan on doing to me there?"

Masha repeats, "bath time," as if that settled matters. She then flops back down, curling up to Will -- very unhelpful for the commencement of bath time, but she was clearly implying that was now Will's problem.

He does not take her bait. "I'm not carrying you there, baby," he says. "I don't know why you even think I'm strong enough to do that in the first place. I'm not, if you were wondering."

"I was not. And you should have more faith in yourself."