zhampagne | ic inbox

Under the circumstances the thought is, maybe, a bit morbid; fortunately for everyone Scully has a high tolerance for that.

But his shift in tone piques her curiosity in turn.

“About what?”

David leans in a little closer, his breath warm against her ear as he answers, one hand steadying itself on her shoulder.

"About whether or not you've ever gotten busy during Monster Week."

He certainly has, and he's not really fussed about admitting it, but he knows not everyone is as eager to get into the really freaky monster shit.

That earns a soft laugh, a little bit sheepish; her cheeks flush pink, making the scales that freckle them here and there stand out more.

"It took me ages to get the hint that anyone did," she admits, leaning in conspiratorially. But for all the hints of shyness, she hasn't moved her hands.

"So... I haven't, no. I mean. Not yet."

Her flushed cheeks are cute; the fact that she hasn't let go of his fur and feathers is even better. He lets his lips brush just barely across her cheek, over skin and scale alike.

"Not yet," he repeats. "Well, if you want to give it a whirl, I've got a room down the street." David leans back to his upright position, giving her some of her personal space back. "Just saying."

Most of the time, she greatly values personal space. Right now it’s the last thing she thinks she needs. When he pulls back, her eyes look nearly normal, pupils wide and round.

Half-instinctively her tongue darts out to taste the air.

“Then maybe we should head out.”

It’s not where she’d planned on this evening ending up, but the idea is too intriguing to let go of.

David from a little over a year ago would have seen that flickering tongue and found it strange. Off-putting. Now, after a year of freaky monster sex and general weirdness, his brain has been rewired to find it enticing. Fuck. His own pupils, cat-like slits in huge, green sclera, grow large and dark, mirroring Scully's.

"Yeah. Mmhmm, yes."

He drains the rest of his drink in one long pull, and then pushes himself to all four feet. His wings fold neatly against his long, sleek back, and he holds out a sweater-clad arm to Dana. "Right this way."

Out the door, down the street through blustery weather, but thankfully it's a short walk to David's hotel, and before long they're in the elevator up to his floor. They might be pushing the weight limit a little bit, but that doesn't stop him from pressing Scully right up against the wall, his hands warm on her hips.

The first time she changed, she’d spent the week nearly in hiding. She couldn’t have imagined being comfortable being seen, then, much less touched; much less wanting to be touched and seen and more. There’s no even dividing line; no moment where she decided this body was hers in spite of its shape, when she’d stopped perceiving the transformations as an unnerving phenomenon to investigate. She couldn’t say whether she’s been changed by experience, or if it’s something insidious, atmospheric; the stone sunk into her body shifting her values the longer it stays.

Who knows. Who gives a damn, really?

She loops two arms through his as they walk, smoothly gliding alongside him, reveling in the warmth of his body, made all the more striking by the delicious chill in the air.

With a soft laugh of delight, she loops two arms over his shoulder, the other set around his waist; a stretch ripples through the length of her body, scaled coils of her pressed loosely against his legs and side.

She shifts to stand a little taller—- easier like this, than if tiptoes were her only option—- and gives him a light, teasing kiss.

“Impatient,” she murmurs approvingly.

His fingers rub softly over the scales at her hips, getting a feeling for the unfamiliar texture. They're nice to touch, warming beneath his fingertips, smooth and sleek. A rumbling purr starts up low in his cat-chest, which he's still sort of embarrassed about when it happens, but he does a decent job of hiding it.

"Mm," he hums, already leaning back in to steal another kiss. "I don't hear you complaining, though."

A shiver works its way through her body as his fingers skim over her, the soft transition from warm skin to smooth scales. Truthfully she’s fascinated by the shifting sensations. Skin in scales, scales on fur.

“I’m not.”

She slides the end of her tail over his hips- or shoulders?- to feel the rumble of his purr, the tip trailing down along his foreleg.

“Just trying not to get too wrapped up.”

She’s not sorry for the bad joke. Or the way she’s coiled around him.

David can't help the giggle, surprised and a little ticklish, that wrests from his throat as he feels those coils snaking up and around his lower half. "That feels contradictory," he murmurs, and then the elevator judders to a stop, the doors gliding open behind him. Reluctantly, he peels himself away from Scully, all four legs moving to back quickly out of the elevator and tug her right along with him.

"Slither right this way, please," he teases as he gets himself turned the right way around, leading her down the hall and unlocking the room. There's a fire roaring in the fireplace, and a huge bed— he always makes sure to get the biggest they offer when it's monster week. His powerful tail thwaps the door shut behind him as soon as the last of Dana has made its way inside.

All she can do is offer a sharp grin, before they’ve stopped and she needs to untangle herself so they can move.

The way she moves is oddly elegant, her path always curved slightly side to side, hips swaying and her tail tracing the line behind. She isn’t shy about entering his space— partly that’s just practical, if she wants to get the end of her long body through the door. But she glides her way right onto the edge of his bed, her tail spilling off the edge and looping in a lazy curve across the floor, scales glimmering in the flickering light.

With the sort of ease that only comes from practice, she peels off her four-armed sweater, setting it beside her; the button-down underneath should be a bit less complicated to get out of. And of course, most of her is clad in nothing but scales; pale, wide scutes down her underbelly, brilliant bands of color ringing the rest.

The end of her tail twines around a foreleg, and she tugs lightly, playfully.

“Come warm me up.” Again, her tongue flicks out.

She makes it look so easy, moving around all that bulk, her movements sinuous and elegant. David's own tail lashes with apparent interest as he stalks after her once the door's locked behind them. His forepaws prop him up on the edge of the mattress so his torso can stretch out along hers; the bed creaks beneath their combined weight, but it's sturdy. He lets himself be tugged closer by her tail, his hands skimming up her sides until he reaches the lower set of arms.

"My pleasure," he murmurs, letting the friction of his palms run up and down her arms. "So, never having gotten busy with a snake person before, you're going to have to tell me what feels good."

It still strikes her as oddly ironic to be so long when she's usually the shortest in any given room. But most of that added length is pure muscle; she shifts and coils on herself, the end of her tail sliding up over his back.

"I think we're both figuring it out as we go," she murmurs, her cheeks flushed, her other hands sliding up his chest, toward his shoulders. Truthfully, they're off to a good start; the heat of his body, the novelty of sensation against her scales. She's in no hurry, and greedy to explore, to run her hands over his fur and feathers, to curl around him.

"Ah-- I'm a little worried about getting carried away and biting." Probably good to get that out of the way. (Or maybe he'd be into it? Some people seem to be into that.) "It's not dangerous, just-- honestly, I think it might get you a little high."

David nods, his lantern-like green eyes trained on her as their bodies instinctively gravitate toward the other. The feeling of her tail, those powerful muscles, sliding over his back, undulating slowly, is like nothing else he's ever felt. "Yeah," he agrees softly, letting one hand press up beneath the hem of her top, his claws retracted so they can skim but not scratch over skin and scale.

Biting brings him back into sharp focus, though, and his gaze darts from her abdomen back up to her face, eyebrows raising in clear interest. "Oh, yeah?" He licks his lips, moving in close again to press warm, open-mouthed kisses against her neck. "I've never been opposed to getting a little high. Sounds fun. You have my permission to bite me, if the mood strikes."

Biting isn't her usual fare; objectively it surprises her a little, that she finds the idea such a turn-on, but it makes a strange sort of sense, that she'd want to like this. It's something to dig into at a later date; for now she hums a pleased acknowledgement and turns to kiss his jaw, her hands splaying out aimlessly across his body in every direction, even as her lower half continues to coil around him, slow and lithe.

Her eyes flutter shut, and she arches against him with a satisfied sigh at the feel of his hand on her; the texture of her torso, she knows, is unfamiliar in this form, her smooth skin dotted here and there with stray scales, slightly rougher to the touch. The friction against the smooth hardness of his claws is another spot of unanticipated novelty, and she delights in it.

"What do you like?"

Curious and intrigued, the tip of her tail slides up his side to ruffle his feathers lihtly.

David lets both hands glide up over her belly, thumbs skimming over her ribcage, watching intently as her eyes flutter shut. When she arches into him, he can feel it ripple down her tail, which is absolutely wild, and hot in a way David can't really quantify, so it gets filed away under 'animal instinct.' He cups her breasts, skimming his claw tips oh-so-gently across her nipples to see how she reacts.

"I like," he begins, and licks his lips, "mm, you know that thing cats like when you scratch right at the base of their tail?" His cheeks are turning pink, and he knows it, but fuck it. If they're going to get weird, might as well commit. "Turns out that feels fucking incredible. Um, my junk is more human than cat, by the way. No barbs, I promise."

She shivers as her nipples tighten, the strange sensation of claws definitely a welcome one, though whether she'd be so enamored with it if she were her normal self is anyone's guess. It's paired with a little gasp-- or, admittedly, maybe more of a little hiss.

From here she doesn't quite have the reach to scratch his spine with any of her hands, but files away the knowledge; and tries, admittedly experimentally, to create a little friction with the coil looped over his back. If she's come to truly like anything about being a naga, it's the sense of power; all the added length is mostly muscle, and though not quite as dexterous as her added arms, it's surprisingly capable of fine motions, once she started practicing.

"I hadn't even thought about that," she admits. "I-- ah."

Even now, being-- well, straightforward about this kind of thing makes her blush, as she brings a curl of her long body up, flexing her muscles, and catches one of his hands by the wrist to drag it down the center of her body, over the smooth transition between skin and scales. The spot where her scales part is slightly lower than one might guess, and surprisingly unobtrusive most of the time; now, relaxed and intent and aroused, it's unmistakable.

And just below, she guides his fingers to a raised bump of soft, sensitive flesh off to one side; and then across to the other side, where it's mirrored.

"Turns out snakes have twice the fun."

David's easy for it, as it turns out; the moment that shifting coil begins to flex over the spot, his back legs are pushing his ass up into the air just like a housecat getting butt scritchies. "Mmmm, yep, right there..." It's wild, that she can take him by the hand and still keep three more hands on him, but not as wild as the place she leads him to touch: a parting in her scales, and then two distinct nubs, tender beneath his fingertips.

"Holy shit," he breathes, going still as he sheathes his claws and lets the sides of his fingers trail over both spots at once. "That's so fucking hot." It comes out in a rush against her collarbone, all the air leaving him at once as hot arousal floods through him.

What a delight to watch his back arch; the body language isn't exactly familiar but it's so expressive, and being able to do that with only her tail is fascinating. It makes her feel strangely powerful.

And then he touches her, and she gasps sharply, a tremor rolling the extensive length of her spine. It's the first time anyone else has touched her in this form, and the sensation is heady, overwhelming; a little alien, a little addictive. She hisses through her teeth, sinuously rutting against his hand while she drags fingers down his chest, across his back; playfully tweaking a nipple, while her tail continues to play across his back, squeezing and releasing in hypnotic rhythm.

"Oh my God," she gasps. "That feels amazing."

"Yeah?" David immediately repeats the motion, looking raptly down at her as he does. He's normally a pretty confident lover, but seeing as they're dealing with some unprecedented situations here, he appreciates her being vocal about what works.

"Okay, good," he mutters, almost to himself, adding a little more pressure behind his touch now. His purring starts up again even louder, feeling her hands on his chest, the gentle drag of her nails over his skin, the tweak she gives his nipple. He'd once been worried about monster sex being weirder than it is hot, but today especially he feels more than at home enough in this form to let go and forget about his human hangups.

The low rumble of his purr is hypnotic; she loops a little more of herself around him to feel it against her body, the sensation unfamiliar but luxurious. Her more-or-less human half arches up to kiss his shoulder, her mouth hot on his skin, sharp contrast to the cool-but-warming feel of her scales.

The key to this, maybe, is not letting herself stop to think about how weird it is; in the moment all she's focused on is how good it is, the flood of Manna and sensation its own reward. His hand on her is just perfect; the sharp contrast between the dulled sense of touch on scales and the overwhelming acuity of her twin clits is like nothing she's experienced before, but God, she wants more of it.

Her long, forked tongue slips out to taste the air between them, the heavy scent of sex and feathers, animal and intoxicating; it brushes his skin almost incidentally. Holy shit, why did she wait so long to try this?

"David, oh my God," she murmurs, one of her hands dropping to his wrist as if to urge him on. Faster, more. She's already close, her body squeezing his lightly.

It should be uncomfortable, or terrifying, the way her snake body coils around him, but it's not. It's hot, like when a human partner wraps their limbs around him to get as close as possible, especially the part of her tail that's still rubbing and shifting over that spot by his tail. His groans at her kisses, the bare flicker of her tongue, her murmured encouragement.

"C'mon," he murmurs back, voice a little breathy; her hand on his wrist is a help, taking some of the strain off the tendons, and feeling the way she squeezes him is intoxicating enough that he manages to pick up his pace, his hand flexing to give each of her clits a little more pressure. "C'mon, Dana, come for me, fuck."

The serpent part of her is demanding, possessive; keeping him close means he'll keep doing what he's doing. It's all so intense she can't muster words; she pants and writhes, arching up against him.

And it still feels sudden when she comes-- her whole body shivers, tensing around him as she cries out, reflexively sinking her teeth into his shoulder, her bite heavy with venom.

ic inbox | noctium

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i'm so sorry this is disgustingly late

nonsense, there's no bad time for monsterfucking <3

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/strolls in late with Starbuck