soundoftheseas | DIAMARI CATCHALL

Dia moves without a hitch as Mari guides them back, only her shoulders tensing momentarily as they hit the wall. But she's quick to settle, comfortable with Mari's weight against her, sinking easily into her hold: one hand coming to rest between slender shoulder blades, the other cupping the back of her head. She tips her head up for her, too, to offer smoother access.

In truth, Mari will have to try very little to win her over. She's very well near irresistible. But her overblown ego certainly doesn't need to hear that.

"Ah--" Mari's hands squeeze in tandem with a particularly hard kiss, and a gasp slips past Dia's lips. Her features pinch, and she flicks the back of Mari's neck. "Don't dare leave a mark. I'll kill you."

"Don't worry about what I'm doing..." Another kiss, just under her jawline, "and just enjoy it," she punctuates with a kiss to her chin. "86 seconds left..."

Her words come out a bit raspier than she had intended them to be. The pacing of her kisses is more varied now, just to keep Dia on her toes; at some spots she'll linger, moving in tantalizingly slow before her lips make contact, and at some she'll jump quickly to the next. Time may be a factor here, but that doesn't mean she can't play, a bit.

With a little over 60 seconds left, she finds herself right in front of Dia's face, poised to make contact with her lips next. Mari takes a deep breath and bites her bottom lip, her hands squeezing Dia's backside a bit tighter still as she slowly moves in for the kill strike...

But just before she brings hers lips to Dia's, she stops short, a hair's breadth away. They're kissing by the skin of their teeth, but, the contact never happens. She mutters under her breath, but she knows Dia can hear her, and if she can't, she can certainly see the grin on her face when she says,

"...Just kidding."

She pulls back brings one of her hands back up to rest behind Dia's head, only so she can move a cascade of dark hair behind her lover's ear. Gently, she tugs at her earlobe, careful to do so with her lips; no marks, after all.

Edited 2017-03-19 17:20 (UTC)

If there is one field in which Mari is wholly unparalleled, it's teasing. She has elevated it to a horrible, merciless art form; the irregularity of her kisses has Dia's nerves standing on end with damnable ease, and when she closes in on her mouth, she feels her own lips tremble.

But-- no. The contact's never made. Dia's left unwittingly mimicking a fish out of water for a solid second before she clues on to the punch line -- or rather, that the punchline is her -- and promptly snaps her jaw shut, heat spreading across her cheeks like a forest fire.

"Immature," she mumbles with a sharp turn of her head. That she only ends up presenting her ear to Mari's mouth-- that's an unintended side effect.

"You love it," is her coarse, breathy response in Dia's ear, before she starts on her path of kisses again, moving downward this time, right along her jawline. Even from here, she can feel Dia's face lighting up; her eyes are closed, preoccupied in making sure this is tantalizing as possible, but, it's obvious that her lover is red as a rose, and even if she acts displeased, her body is so obviously telling a different story.

But, ah, she can't help herself, she wants to see her adorable Dia's face, and she can't do that from all the way down here by her neck...

She clasps onto a fistful of dark hair and runs her hand straight through as she darts back up again, to kiss Dia's bright red cheeks; first the left, then the right. She doesn't just mix up the timing; she wants to kiss her all over now, just to keep herself unpredictable. She stands on tiptoe to reach the top of Dia's forehead and plant a long, long kiss there, and follows it up with a quick peck to the tip of her nose. With time running just a bit short again (she can always get her right ear later, she reasons), all Mari has left to do is to press her forehead against Dia's and rub their noses together, and take her sweet time waiting. Mari's left hand just makes its way to stroke her cheek as she looks her straight in the face; her right, still kneading the back of Dia's thigh, hasn't gone anywhere, keeping an even pressure.

15, 14, 13. She doesn't lay any more kisses on, for the moment. Time isn't up yet, but she wants to savor this feeling of how close she is to her; she's breathing heavily, obviously short of breath after her onslaught of smooches, but, that's fine; she wants Dia to hear just how intensely she's feeling, and she wants to see Dia's face, too, knowing damn well that she's going to wonder just why she stopped short. After all, two minutes couldn't possibly be up already, right?

Even with the cruel avoidance of her lips, Mari's kisses still feel good. Her breath paints a new layer of heat over Dia's already-flushed skin, mingling with her own sighs and soft gasps.

Dia likes having Mari close, the fabric of her blouse humming with friction as their bodies brush and rub together. She likes guessing at the trajectory of her mouth, even likes her predictions betrayed -- there's a unique tinge of delight that runs down her spine whenever Mari kisses her harder, or lingers longer in place than she'd thought.

And then there's Mari doing absolutely nothing, just staring up at her with that cheshire smile of hers. Dia could just about pop with the urge to kiss her, or slap her, or possibly both, but she refrains -- because she can tell when she's being tested, and she has no intention of failing.

Mari, the most whimsical, fancy-free person she knows -- can just as easily turn devastatingly deliberate. It never fails to incite Dia's resolve, fill her with the raw urge to meet her head-on.

(And, she'll never admit-- make her weak in the knees, too.)

"Mari-san," she murmurs out, the tip of her tongue slipping past her lips to wet them. She won't close the distance. She refuses.

"Kettle's boiling."

"Mm..."

Mari's only response to that is to run her thumb over Dia's lips, humming softly. Dia's stubborn, a fact that she knows all too well, almost as stubborn as she is; they're deadlocked, for the moment. Of course, Mari reasons, she can easily turn this into a battle of attrition. If it means staring at Dia's flushed face all night (she looks delicious, she thinks to herself, just about ready to burst--), she's willing to stare forever until she cracks. It won't be that long, she knows, but...

She gave herself a timer, here. And she has just a few more seconds left on the clock. As much as she loves driving Dia crazy, she's determined not to lose, either. That meager attempt at resistance has simply got to go, and it's got to go now; for no reason other than the fact that she knows for a fact that the kiss Dia's about to lay on her lips is going to be more intense than she could even dream of, and the taste of victory alongside that long-awaited liplock is going to make it even sweeter. When the countdown is this close, it's anyone's game; but when all's said and done, this is Mari Ohara, and when she really wants something, she always plays to win.

8, 7, 6. Like a shark moving in on its prey in the water, she inches closer, still. It's a familiar situation; no matter how long these seconds of silence may feel like as they stretch on and on (to Dia, she imagines, these past 120 seconds must have felt like a small eternity), in actuality, Mari made this same exact move only a minute ago, just before she faked Dia out. But this time instead of darting away, in one calculated motion, she takes Dia's bottom lip right into her mouth, gently tugging at it with her teeth before she releases it with a soft, wet pop, and a deep breath.

Three seconds left, and all Mari does is stare up at Dia with half-lidded golden eyes and a devious smirk that's fixed in place on her lips. Come on, it's saying. You know you want to.

Edited 2017-03-21 00:03 (UTC)

Dia is weak to biting. She's weak to a truly alarming amount of things, as Mari has made her aware throughout their platonic and romantic relationship both. But feeling the soft pressure of teeth, the wet heat of Mari's mouth bearing down against her lip -- it's enough to have her stomach knitting in a hundred needy knots. And when she pulls back, god, there's nothing Dia wants more than to slam Mari up against the wall and kiss that smug grin clean off her face--

Except for one thing, and that's winning. Nothing is more important than winning.

That's why, even though it feels like swimming against cement, Dia reins herself in. She releases her hold on Mari, even when her fingers ache to cling, and she sets her jaw, though it quivers with the strain. She gives herself a couple seconds to breathe, just to be sure she can make her voice come out even, and finally declares:

"I really do believe it's been two minutes." Slender fingers tuck an errant lock behind her ear, before she folds her arms over her chest, chin angled up. "So why don't you pour us some tea while I fetch the pamphlets?"

"...I guess it has been, hasn't it?"

Well, she'll give credit where credit is due; she's better at holding out than she thought she would be!

"Congratulations, Dia. Not bad at all."

But in spite of that, Mari can physically see how hard Dia is struggling, try as she might to try and play it cool here; had Mari, perhaps, said three minutes, or maybe even two and a half, she wonders if poor Dia would've been able to keep it up, or, at least, if she could have, how much worse her expression would be. As it stands now, her warm face and breathless expression will have to be enough for now, only because...

Well, a deal is a deal. And one can call Mari many, many things, but, she at least prides herself on being a girl of her word, when it comes to competitions. It doesn't mean she won't be a bit of a sore loser, in her own way, but, she can admit when she's been defeated...for the moment.

"I guess I underestimated you a bit, my love...I should have known a little better than to think you'd crack from just that." She isn't quite aware of how red in the face she is herself, or how comfortable she is in this position to the point where she can't quite bring herself to straighten herself out. It's only the obnoxious whistle of the tea kettle (vaffanculo, she wishes she could say to it--) that makes her move to reach it, her pointer finger making its way under Dia's chin and to her lips while she stands back up straight. Her finger holds position for a few seconds, just long enough that Dia'll feel its absence, once she takes it away. "But, you did beat me, fair and square. So, we'll do it your way. No kisses, no cuddles, just...boring, stuffy, pamphlets, right~?"

So, this is her new game, then. Just because she lost the first battle doesn't mean the war is over; no, right now, Mari knows she's planted a seed that will take root and turn into something truly, truly incredible--it's just a matter of giving it some time to grow. After all, she thinks to herself with that sickening Ohara confidence, she knows she has Dia hot and bothered now. The only reason the poor girl is even suggesting pamphlets now is because of that stubborn pride of hers, but, one look at Dia's face says that's not really what she wants to do, not even a little bit.

And even if Dia, perchance, does decide to be honest with her about what she wants...well, Mari doesn't have to make giving it to her easy, now that they're insisting on moving forward with this little charade of theirs. And the night is still oh so very young. She'll hold the idea over her head like a carrot on a stick that gets yanked away at every possible turn, and drive her crazy, maybe even make her beg a little if she's feeling particularly merciless; give her but a mere taste of what she could have had, if only she had simply gave in and let Mari win here--

But, for now, she'll just giggle and get that tea, giving Dia's butt the slightest of pinches before she walks back over to the stove. There's a little sashay of her hips as she moves, intentional, of course; it's far from the walk of shame one would expect from someone who just suffered an upsetting defeat. This is a little more like, 'Let's start Round 2.'

Edited 2017-03-24 04:03 (UTC)

... Really? Really. Of all times for Mari to learn self-restraint, it had to be here and now. Dia's eyebrow twitches. This is not the sweet victory she sought.

Still, she knows Mari -- the girl can barely go two minutes without fondling her. There's no way Dia could be outlasted, no matter how bold a face Mari puts on. She will cave. She will absolutely, undoubtedly cave.

Right. All Dia has to do is keep this in mind, and she'll be just fine.

"I'm impressed you'd accept your loss so gracefully," comes her clipped retort, and with Mari's weight lifted off her goes reaching for her bag. A shiver abruptly runs down her body, already missing the warmth of having her close. But... fine. This is fine. Mari will cave.

Dia settles down on the sofa, splaying the pamphlets out across the table. She's brought ten, heavens help her.

This will be a very long night indeed.

"Oh really? What did you think I would say? You were only just saying how immature I was, I wanted to prove you wrong..."

Mari can't see Dia's face, but, she can absolutely imagine it. All she has to do is press and prod a little bit, and Dia will be eating out of her hands in no time. She could take her sweet time and simply wait it out, but, if that goes on for too long, it may get a bit boring...and, if she has her like this already, she needs to keep that hot streak going. She's pouring the tea when all of a sudden, an idea hits her; she knows it's playing a bit dirty, but...

"Here, just the way you like it~"

She crosses over to the front of the table, to hand Dia her tea from the other side...but Dia may be more focused on the fact that Mari's robe is hanging quite a bit more loosely on her body; the knot is still there, but her chest is only barely still contained in the white garment. When she bends over in a position like this, the view of her cleavage is (Mari's hoping) just short of perfect.

If Mari notices this, though (and she definitely does; this is a calculated attack, after all!), she makes no effort to adjust herself. Why would she? It's just the two of them...

"So many pamphlets...we're going to go through all of them, right?"

Edited 2017-03-25 05:43 (UTC)

Mari leans forward, and Dia suddenly feels dreadfully, helplessly trapped. She leans all the way back on the sofa, until her shoulders dig into the backrest and her chin sinks into her neck, but those mere few inches of space offer no real escape from Mari and her... mammaries.

She could not possibly pretend to keep her cool. But then, why should she! When Mari is shamelessly participating in such wretched debauchery!

"You--" It takes her a moment to remember to form words, and another moment to refocus her eyes on Mari's face-- "You are being horrifically inappropriate right now! At least allow yourself a shred of decency out of basic self-respect!" She reaches forward, grabbing the robe's collar and yanking it closed. Even her hands are sweaty already, and her face is red down to the base of her throat. "Unbelievable!"

It takes everything Mari has not to burst out laughing at Dia's reaction; she expected her to lose face at the sight, but this is on another level entirely! She'll have to keep this in mind later, but...needless to say, with Dia freaking out like this, Mari's smile is just sickeningly sweet.

"Oh my, Dia, my impatient angel, so forward... To think you would grab at my robe at a time so passionately, like this! I had figured I got under your skin a little bit, but I had no idea I did that well..."

Unbelievable is certainly the best word here; she's playing dumb, clearly, and the look in her eyes is coy as can be. She runs her palms down Dia's arms before letting her hands settle at her wrists...

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, but, if you wanted to stay close, you could have just said so...we are a couple now, so it's not like I have anything to hide from you, if you wanted to see so badly..."

Completely ignoring the fact that she just closed it tighter--

Edited 2017-03-26 20:33 (UTC)

Dia's fists clench firmer, pulling the robe's two halves so tightly together that it might or might not begin to strain against Mari's neck. And her stare's burning a hole in the wall to her left for good measure, just to be double, extra-safe.

"I wish to see nothing, you lecher! I can't believe you'd sooner expose yourself than admit defeat!"

--Well. It's Mari. If anyone would, in fairness, it's her. Still! The gall! The obscenity!

Ah, as cute as this is, it's getting a little bit harder to breathe here; it might be hard with Dia's grasp so tight, but, maybe she can pull her robe a little bit looser with her grip on Dia's hands?

"Darling, darling honestly, there's no need to play hot and cold like this...you were the one who put your hands on me first here, so why are you insisting on being resilient like this? You already have your victory, and this is a very funny way of claiming your reward..."

Though, playing the fool can only get her so far, here. If Dia won't look at her, she'll make her look at her; her hand moves to Dia's cheek, pushing her head over to meet her gaze.

"But you really don't want to see any of me? Nothing at all? There's nothing lecherous about it if love is involved, right?"

Dia's heart jumps at the enforced eye contact, lodging itself in her throat. It makes her voice come out weaker than she'd like -- odd and raspy.

"Quit it," she mutters, shifting uneasily against the sofa when there's no further back left to go. Her eyes wander as far as they're able, catching on an indistinct point on Mari's brow, the edge of her bangs, her collarbone.

"You're clearly just doing this to get a reaction, so cut it out. You're not a child."

"I'm doing it to get a little bit more than that. Look at me, Dia. Guardami."

After all, if it was just a reaction she was looking for, she could have stopped the second Dia leaped up to close her robe. There's something else she's after, here, and when Dia moves back against the sofa, Mari takes it as her chance to close in once more. Pushed back like this, Dia's still a coffee table away, and to walk around it would make her lose her prime positioning.

No choice but to step over it, then, if she wants to get closer. She takes care not to knock over the tea she just put down, but she starts with her knees, which at least gives her the advantage of covering up those stupid pamphlets, but, more importantly, puts herself just a head higher that Dia. If her eyes were on Mari's collarbone before, her view just got a bit lower.

"I think you're the one being a little childish, here. You should be a teensy bit more honest with your lover, don't you think..?"

Something in Dia's stomach yields and caves. It is so, so very hard to say no to Mari -- always, but especially so when she's towering over her like this, and when her voice drops low just so.

Dia's base instinct demands to look, and to touch, but she's in over her head and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She doesn't know how she ended up here but her hands and knees are trembling, and she's almost queasy with nerves.

"F-fine," she mutters out, angling her chin up to meet Mari's eyes despite the strain of it. "If I'm being honest, then I don't want to be doing this." She says it clearly, sharply, even though her voice trembles at the end. "Not like this. Not-- when you still won't kiss me."

...Ah. She was having so much fun teasing her poor Dia, but, a reaction like this...it never fails to get her heart racing. She had just been so set on toying with her, on making her work for this, but in actuality, she's far more of a bleeding heart than that. A little too much of a bleeding heart, because Dia's flustered face and stern admission that slowly tapers off into hesitance...

It's just so Dia. And as much as Dia can't say no to Mari, it's very, very difficult for Mari not to spoil Dia rotten, especially not when, all of a sudden, she's giving her this face and so discombobulated that she can't even look at Mari.

Oh, she loves this, she loves her, Mari can't help but inch closer still and caress Dia's (her Dia's, this beautiful, radiant, precious fragolina is all hers) cute little pink cheeks--

"If what you want is a kiss from me, Dia, I'll give you a million of them. And you know me, my love, I'll start counting."

She knows it's caving. She'll take the loss here, too. It's hardly a loss, anyway; when she gets in close like this and finally, finally lays her lips on Dia's after what felt like centuries of a drought, there's no such thing as losing, in her eyes.

"Did you want them like this..."

Her first kiss to her is just a peck on the lips; it's a kiss, certainly, and it's not quite done in a hurry, but, there's no way Dia will be satisfied after just that, and she knows it...

"...Or, like this?"

She gets a little bit more into the second one; her hand reaches to cradle the back of Dia's head and grab at her hair again, but rather than rough, she's trying to be as ginger as she can. Even when she slips Dia a bit of tongue, it isn't as though she tries to force her way into her mouth; it's a slow, amorous kiss, one where every motion and slight angle change is deliberate and intentional, so there's no fear that their teeth will clash into each other or they'll be too stiff.

She imagines Dia likes that one, more.

"Mmn--"

A cotton-cloud of relief disperses within Dia's chest as soon as Mari's lips meet hers, melting the anxiety away. She clutches her shoulders, tighter at the second kiss -- submerging herself in the feeling, in the glowing-warm comfort that is Mari.

God, she needed this.

She sighs deeply when they pull apart, for relief and loss of breath both. But her lungs feel lighter, now. Her knees not so shaky.

"... That," she answers after a beat, eyelashes fluttering, a little hazy from the kiss still. Another brief pause as Dia settles, followed by: "And get off the table, please. You'll knock the tea over."

"But I like being a little taller than you, Dia! I think it's cute..."

Still, she can't deny that it would be a bit nicer to sit next to her, rather than stay up here and potentially break the table in half from all of the weight she's putting on it, so she obliges, with weak knees and bright red lower legs.

But plopping down next to Dia on the couch has its own rewards; she gets to wrap her arms around her and grip at her blouse, and feel the warmth of her body before she moves in for another kiss. Now that they're closer, she can move her hands all over Dia's body; past her shoulderblades, down her sides, around her waist and back up again...

It's pretty simple, really. She just...touches Dia the way she would like to be touched, is all.

"So, while you're being honest, how bad did I have you going, for real? You looked like you were ready to pop..."

Dia can answer between kisses, if she likes; after all, presumably, even once this one is over, there are still 999,997 to go.

"Quiet," Dia mumbles against her mouth, even as a particular curl of fingers against her side sends her shivering. She nips at Mari's lower lip in retribution, one hand cupping her chin. "That was cheating."

"That's not how I remember it...if I recall, the only rule was that I couldn't leave marks..." Still, Dia trying to give her a taste of her own medicine like this...all it does is make Mari's breath hitch. "Moving the goalposts isn't very fair of you. If I really wanted to cheat, I could have done something like this..."

When she kisses her again, her hands find their way inside her blouse; she noticed that little quiver when her hands ran down her side, but now they find their way to bare skin, her short fingernails softly running up her torso...before, just below her ribs, they settle on tickling her; not long enough to send poor Dia into a giggling fit, but enough to show her that she knows she's sensitive there.

It's the first touch of skin to skin, and it instantly makes Dia's stomach cave, sends goosebumps spreading down her arms even before Mari's fingertips find their purpose. And when they do-- it happens too fast for Dia to brace herself, and a high-pitched squeal flitters past her throat as her whole body curls in. Too, too strong a reaction for such fleeting contact. She knows that. She's sure Mari loves that.

This is where she should protest, where she should tell Mari no. But with Mari's hands on her bare skin, so skillfully and effortlessly exploiting her weak spots, it's-- hard.

And maybe Dia doesn't really want to.

She doesn't have it in her to tell Mari 'stop', and God knows she doesn't have it in her to tell Mari 'more'. So in the end, all the reaction Dia's capable of is staring down at her knees in red-faced silence, fingers clinging to the fabric of Mari's robe.

The second the sound leaves Dia's lips, Mari's grin gets wide. Such a huge sound from such a simple touch! And Dia's right, Mari doesn't just love it; now she's determined to hear it again and again.

"You are just the cutest..."

She knows she might be getting a little carried away here, but if it means hearing Dia make that adorable squawk again, to her, it's absolutely worth it. Dia curls up like a porcupine on the couch, but Mari lunges in closer to meet her, moving to nibble at her collarbone while she's distracted by whatever's so interesting on her knee.

Her hands are making their way around to her back, and she's tracing along the curvature of Dia's spine with her fingertips. She'll get a reaction like that from her Dia a second time if it kills her.

Dia, much to her own mortification, is no trouble to squeeze more such noises out of. She bites down on her lower lip, but the strained little giggle-whines reverberate through her throat, only barely. The brush of Mari's fingertips rakes shivers down her body, settling at the pit of her belly; Dia's thighs shift and squeeze together in attempt to accommodate the sensation.

It's a deadlock: a perfect, impossible balance of humiliation and pleasure. Her pride is rejecting it, twisting uselessly away from Mari's fingertips, while everything else about Dia wants to lay itself down before Mari and just let her. Let her reach in to grab the weakness she can't show anywhere else by the fistfuls, and drag it to the surface.

Dia's already quivering this much. It feels good. It feels petrifying. It feels good.

"M-Mari-san," she shakily forms her name. Like she's begging, without knowing what for.

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