CALL ME OUT!

[itskjstyle]

【 ❝CALL ME OUT❞ 】
psls & one-off fun with KJ.

♛ see above - or my full muse list. ♛ reply by putting my character's name in the subject line! ♛ If you have a prompt - please include - if not, say "randomize" and I'll randomize it! ♛ Roleplay and/or plot & profit! meme code.

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[freshprints]

[He makes it easy on her, when he leans in close; the hand that was resting on his chest, that winds up pushed back toward her when he moves in against her, is able to easily slide up and hook fingers into the collar of his shirt. It won't do anything while he stays close, but it'll certainly prevent him from getting away if he tries.

Did he move in to take, or did she lure him in herself? Is he staying put because he wants to, or has she just ensnared him? That, too, is all part of the game.]

You call it a courtesy. I call it a demand.

[This time, the lip she runs her tongue along is his, not her own.]

And you wouldn't like me if I wasn't difficult.

[penpoint]

[ He knows she has him right now, even if only for a second, when he feels her tongue over his lips. His lips instinctively part just slightly, and he barely represses a sigh. He's glad he doesn't, though the action itself is more than enough indication of what she's just won here.

He doesn't dare think about stepping away because he wants to be there. His hand shifts, laying flat against her cheek in an almost too soft movement for them. It's intentional, of course, an attempt to regain and refocus himself. ]

You're right.

[ She's more fun as a challenge than if she just gave him what he wanted. She gives him something to chase, something to earn, something to work for. He always asks himself if it's worth it and only can conclude that it is. He'd miss the way she plays.
He'll take the closeness as a chance to press his lips to hers, his hand on her cheek moving just slightly, to tangle in her hair. If he had wanted, he could - would - tug, but he doesn't yet. She knows, too. ]

[freshprints]

Obviously.

[Like she'd be wrong? Ridiculous. But she also knows that no victory against him is ever anything but short-lived; she claims the upper hand only for him to take her by the wrist and relieve her of it, they push and they pull and on average it all balances out, but she knows better than to think this will really do anything other than spurring him on to get her back in return.

But there are ways she can influence even that. Putting ideas in his head, for example.]

If you want me to behave, sooner or later you're going to have to make me.

[Her mouth moves against his as she talks, each word forming another kiss as she shapes the vowels and consonants pressed against his lips.]

I won't cooperate any other way.

[penpoint]

Make you.

[ He repeats it, saying the words slowly and carefully. It's as if he's evaluating how exactly he would make her do anything. But, it's not an impossible task. They don't operate on polite requests. She challenges him. So, making her really is the only option anyway. Isn't it?

He tugs on a few strands of hair. Its not really in an effort to hurt her, of course. Just a reminder that his hand is there. His attention doesn't divert from her. His eyes are locked on - even this close.

He could find ways to make her do as he wants fun. There's always ways. But, he also enjoys her pushing him back and challenging him in ways that no one else really ever has. He doesn't find her resistance nearly as irritating as he puts on. It's all part of the game. His fingers trace along her jawline, and he grips her chin. Not that he needs to, but he enjoys teasing her with light touches periodically. ]

I may have to, especially if you insist today.

[ He presses his lips to hers briefly. And he shifts his attention to the corner of her mouth, along her jawline, before he whispers: ]

Even if this is a lot of fun.

[freshprints]

It could be more fun.

[He's focused on her now. Has been for a while, actually, but the focus is gradually shifting into fixation, and that's what she wants. That's the natural outcome of this game they play, where he demands and she pretends not to surrender. The longer she plays hard to get, the closer he'll draw her in, and — she likes that. Likes his eyes, when they seem to see nothing but her.

She shifts her weight subtly, rocking it onto one foot while her other shifts outward, making just enough space between her legs for, perhaps, a thigh to fit comfortably. And that's what she does, moving her hands to his hips and digging them in none too gently, but possessively, and makes him come forward until their legs are interwoven, one of hers between both of his and vice versa.]

Unless you're scared to do something about it.