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.

Comments

[freshprints]

Hm. That's awfully forward of you. Won't I be cold?

[The benefit of text, here, is that she can take as much time as she needs, and come off as impassive as she wants, through the benefit of careful word choice. She doesn't have to let on the way her lip catches behind her front teeth, or how her thoughts drift to the memory of his long fingers.]

I'll have goosebumps, being exposed like that.

[penpoint]

Forward? I'm not going to play around. You may be at first.

[ He likes text for the same reasons, really. He can take his time, be careful with his words. And while he doesn't always think very hard about the things he says and does, he is right now because while he's saying he doesn't play around, this is still a game. He thinks of his fingers over her skin, that bare flesh under his finger tips. And it causes pause, as well. The next text comes a couple minutes after the first. ]

You know, my hands are always warm. I won't make you wait long, though I may admire before my fingers trace over your skin. I can't take it too easy on you, after all. That would be far too easy.

[freshprints]

I know what your hands feel like.

[Of course she does. She's always hung up on his hands, on the way that he touches her. He bares his so easily, while she hides hers beneath her leather gloves; he explores his world with his fingers while she always maintains a barrier around hers. So of course she notices them. Of course she remembers the feeling of his skin on hers. Of course she's memorized what it feels like when he runs his fingertips over her collarbones, when he dips them into the hollow at the base of her throat.

She's going to need to sit down. Find a quiet corner and curl in on herself. He's affecting her too much, just like this, and she wants to savor it while she's got it.]

You like it when I blush, don't you? It makes you feel like you've won something.

[penpoint]

You like what they feel like.

[ He thinks of those pale pinks on her pale flesh. For him, it's a win, because even the smallest crack in her nature to be still underneath his fingers. That she can look him in the eye and say things to defy without hesitation. Without those smallest reactions, he wouldn't enjoy her. ]

Of course I win. I enjoy those reactions form you.

[ A pause. ]

I don't forget the way you feel, either. The heat off of your skin under my fingertips. When I trace them over your breasts, down to your stomach. Your side, your hips.

[ He never really thought about how much he would enjoy this sort of exchange with her. But he does. It's a different type of game for him. He lives alone, but all the same, he'll settle into a chair in his office - no one enters here without his explicit permission. ]

[freshprints]

I remember how they feel in my mouth. When I close my teeth around them after you push them inside.

[It's almost tempting to mirror what she's saying for herself, to text with one hand and toy at her own lips with the other. But she's busy at the moment, and this isn't the time or place for that. So she finds a quiet corner and sinks down until she's seated on the floor, biting her lower lip to replicate some of the sensation.]

It's like you're exploring me. It's hard not to wonder what you'll find when you do.

[penpoint]

It's always like you are ready to simply devour me.

[ Which is cleary, very clearly, not a complaint. He takes a deep breath, remembering the sensation. He moves one finger over the tips of his hand, as if tracing along where she'd close her teeth around them. He remembers what it feels like all too well. He can't replicate the sensation, of course. She's the only one who can give him exactly that. ]

Your skin is interesting. If I move slowly enough, if I change where I touch you every time - I learn something new.

[ He catches his breath. He can't replicate the feel of her skin, either. But he can remember it. The soft dips, the way it feels when he feels her inhale - exhale. ]

Does that sound too romantic? I think it might. Don't worry. I won't let it stay that way.

[freshprints]

I still won't take off my gloves for you.

["Still won't" is the operative phrase there, and one she deploys intentionally. She knows full well that he's as addicted to exploring mysteries as she is to unraveling them, and there's no better way to keep him tempted — not that she really needs to, but that's half the game, isn't it — than to dangle an unknown in front of his face and pull it away at the last moment.

It's fair play, in light of what his words on her phone screen are doing to her. There are so many different fantasies her imagination can craft around the thought of him exploring her skin. He could be on top of her while she lies sprawled across a mattress, her hair fanned out like a halo while his knuckles trace the line of her collarbone. They could be standing like seeming strangers on a magnet train while his hand works up under her skirt.]

Kishibe-sensei

[— she sends, and realizes too late she doesn't know how that phrase even ends. She'd only touched the first few letters before her phone autofilled the rest; she'd sent it without thinking. It's as close to an unexpected gasp as a text can probably get.]

you're making me heat up.

[penpoint]

I know. I don't need you to.

[ He doesn't seem to mind. If he knows everything about someone, they get boring a lot more quickly. The secret under her gloves isn't what keeps him playing with her, but it definitely doesn't hurt. The image of her body pressed against a wall in his office as his his hands explore her. A break from work to get inspired, he might say if he were smooth, charming. Or maybe they've made their way to his bedroom, and she's under him. He likes that, too. He sometimes feels like he's caught her - like he's won, when he has her there. He's not always a soft touch with her, but he knows that the teasing is effective to get the sort of responses he enjoys from her. ]

I thought maybe so.

[ While not impossible to tell via text, it's much easier to know when he's there with her. When he can see and feel it. However, her text, the spontaneous Kishibe-sensei did tell him quite a lot. ]

Ah, Kirigiri-san.

[ Usually, he'd be a little more familiar with her. But that's part of the game, too. ]

My lips will find your throat. Your skin is soft, I haven't forgotten. I never forget.

[ He remembers how she tastes and feels there, too. The way those memories are connected to her through sensations like this. ]