#literally this is the only way i know how to describe them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

befallenstars-archive · 2 days ago

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Oh, my...I did not read the 15k words part. However, we are here.

Before I yap— Eris, have I ever told you that there's something about the way you write that catches my interest? Can't really put it into words just yet. Maybe if I read more I'll eventually formulate that feeling into words~

Alright, spoilers under the cut! And LOTS of yapping~

Blade

Going for the single bed trope I see...this'll be interesting (¬ ͜ ͡¬)

Okay, but I do find it funny that the reason he wanted to share the bed was for the reader and him to get better rest. Only for the two of them to NOT get a wink of sleep. Reader toss

Love to see a reader that doesn't back down and even takes on a challenge. And oop— would you look at that. Nobody's really getting any sleep now. Hopefully, the bed frame's sturdy enough! And that the walls are thick enough for the sake of the neighbors.

"Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you." Mnhmmm...I'm sure it did.

I think the maintenance of professional distance flew out of the window the moment he said they should share the same bed— to which was literally made for a single person alone. Also when the reader agreed.

Please, just fuck already—

Did I get slightly absorbed in reading that I forgot to make comments? Yes. Sorry. I actually came back to drop a comment about the headboard bc I'm praying for that thing to survive the night.

Also...whoooo *fans self* there's a reason I was a bit occupied with reading than commenting. That bit was VERY distracting.

Ah, a touch of sadomasochism. Love to see it.

Personally, I've always been weak when it comes to the magic phrase "pretty girl". Always will be actually.

Hey!!! The bed frame survived. At least they'll be able to sleep comfortably now.

And the softness of the ending. From passionate and almost feral but gently holding each other and savoring the moment <333

Sunday

THE TENSION.

Ohhh, the underlying yearning and fear of speaking out because of the status. Wanting to just close that small gap and yet it feels like such a wide wedge between two people who simply want to love one another.

I am unwell.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours. You don't.

What if I flatline—

Yes. Go, reader! Tell him! That man's holding back too much when he already has such a gorgeous being in his arms who clearly wants him. Stop trying to play hard to get, Sunday.

Did I get distracted? AGAIN? Yes. Yes, I did.

Came back to comment when he said that he'd be gentle. Oh, his constant reassurances, and the way he does his best to memorize and savour the intimate moment with the reader. I am sighing out dreamily and swooning into a fluffy couch. He's even focusing on the reader's pleasure and comfort!!

...all these praises have me looking the side blushing and fanning myself—

THE CONFESSION. I'M TEARING UP AS WE SPEAK. THE WAY HE'S BEGGING??? I'M ON THE FLOOR.

I actually wanted to pick a dialogue to put here and fawn over but all of them are actually too good. I can't pick one. All of them are just— URGH

"His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go."

Lemme see if I can find that one specific meme that describes how I feel rn...

AHA! FOUND IT!

Did you know? I'm actually an absolute sucker for the lines that go "You're home". Very much so. That was the final nail to the coffin.

Agrenti

Oop— fanboy behavior, huh?

Ngl, I'm fairly new to HSR so I don't really know this character. But he seems like such a sweet guy. Deserves tons of kisses.

"He didn't know whether to laugh or combust." Pretty understandable if someone as lovely and amazing as the reader offers to be your first kiss.

...giving me a wolf hidden in sheep's clothing vibes rn. Interesting. Nvm, he's still a sweetheart <3

He reminds me of a bunny somehow. Like I just wanna pet him and reassure him that he's fine. Very adorable too hehe

Reader has this man completely in the palm of their hand, I fear. Dude is absolutely SMITTEN.

He's so sweet huhu

The ending!! So soft and lovely. Just two people just enjoying the connection they have.

Aventurine

I will never tire of the way you write the reader, Eris! The sassy and confident attitude? Oh, please! I might just started simping for her instead of the men at this point—

"I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.” IM WHEEZING AS WE SPEAK.

“What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.” *cue incoherent fox wheezing noises* NO BC I AM IN LOVE WITH THESE REMARKS.

I just know the dealer's just there looking up to the ceiling and praying to whatever aeon there is to let the reader and this man just get a room before he has to call for both security and clean-up service.

Was the gap between feedbacks a bit...lengthy? Yes. But in my defense it's only 'cuz a certain writer over here really knows her way with words on how to make the tension so thick and palpable that I'm too busy drowning in it to make any comments.

"Let me take care of you." I dunno if you'll be able to tell which part I am on rn but I promise you that I am absolutely blushing and burying my face against my pillows.

"He moans in response" I am currently dying from a nosebleed.

Unsurprisingly, I'm weak towards the specific petname "love"...

I absolutely adore the softness of it all afterwards. My heart's melting huhu

Dr. Ratio

*breathes in*

THE INTIMACY—

Good gods, I am over here just reading the first scenes and I can already feel the tension seeping into my bones. I'm just here with a hand over my mouth, and completely invested in the way this all unfolds.

This one feels so...intimate somehow. I can't really explain it and I am absolutely loving it. I think it's in the way that most of the time the reader is more fiery and sassy while here? It feels like there's a bit more depth to it. Such a good read and I'm literally still at the first part.

"Let's move somewhere private." Yeah, I agree since I recall Aventurine saying they'll be back in a bit. Hell, I'm not even gonna be surprised if they were in the shadows making bets about how this all goes, and didn't want to disturb the moment.

"His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing." + "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

I AM WEAK IN THE KNEES FOR THIS.

"He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him..." Hands on my hips rn. I also had to take a moment to go 'Really?' with an exasperated expression on my face.

Devotion. First word that came to mind. I adore that so so very much.

I am feeling this fic was definitely the favorite child.

Wait. Just finished the fic. Lemme gather my thoughts. That— I...uhm..how...wow. Who knew a smut at 8AM could render me speechless in a good way, eh?

I just KNOW this fic was definitely the favorite child. Though the ending was a lot more bittersweet than I expected huhu

Jing Yuan

Ah, last but not the least. Unsure how to feel abt this one since I found him unnerving when I first met him in-game.

"Stop thinking so much." Goddamn, I wish it were a switch I could just turn off—

WELL, THAT THREW ME OFF-GUARD.

Was I once again sucked into the tension that I completely forgot to make comments? Yes. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. Eris writes them too well.

By this point, I truly have a love and hate relationship with this man. Do I still find him unnerving? Yes. But he also extremely attractive that it's unfair when matched with the honeyed-tongue of his.

Struggling rn/lh

...having even more mixed feelings abt Jing Yuan bc of this fic—

But alas! Setting that aside...

Eris, I am positively in love with your writing <3

༉‧₊˚. Turning Page ˚.₊༉

Ft. Sunday ノ Blade ノ Aventurine ノ Dr Ratio ノ Jing Yuan ノ Argenti

sum: unintended one night stands with hsr men wc: 15.7k (roughly 2k - 3k per part)

contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in argenti's), oral (receiving and giving), fingering, handjob, college au in argenti's, royal au in sunday's, both had been drinking in ratio's, legal age gap in jing yuan's, loss of virginity (reader's in sunday's part & argenti's in his part)

a/n: argenti's just so sweet <333

༉ - 2k

The safe house was cramped and freezing, with bare walls that felt as though they'd been forgotten by time. The mission was far from over, and so was the night. Blade had insisted on sharing the only bed, his reasoning being that it made more sense for both of you to rest.

You didn’t argue, at least not openly—but as the minutes dragged on, frustration slowly began to creep in.

But beneath it all, there was an undercurrent, a taut thread of tension that whispered of something unspoken—a frustration you weren’t ready to confront.

The bed was far too small for two people. You could feel his presence constantly, his shoulder brushing against yours with every move you made. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or the quiet tension hanging in the air. The silence between you felt suffocating, far too thick.

You shifted again, desperate to find a comfortable spot, but it was futile. His warmth pressed into your side, too close for comfort. No matter which way you turned, there was only more of him—his body right there, almost too much. You tried to pull away, but the space was so tight you were only met with the sharp edges of the bed, forcing you back into him.

“Stop moving,” Blade muttered, his voice low and laced with irritation. But there was something else, a tension that hinted at a deeper frustration.

“This bed barely fits one person, let alone two,” you shot back, your tone tighter than you intended.

He didn’t miss a beat, “You’re welcome to take the floor.”

It wasn’t a real suggestion, the teasing smirk in his voice was undeniable. You huffed, exasperated, letting out a frustrated sigh as the bed creaked under the smallest of movements. It was maddening—this small space, the constant proximity, his body so close that your nerves hummed with awareness. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. Your heart was racing, and not for reasons you wanted to admit.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were your breathing and the ruffling of the duvet. Then Blade's voice sliced through that quiet like a knife. "You're too tense," he said, softer than before but with an edge. "Relax.”

You nearly laughed. Relax? In a bed this small, pressed up against him, with everything swirling between you? It was impossible. Instead, you shifted again, purposefully leaning just a little more into him, testing his patience.

He stiffened, just slightly. "Stop."

It wasn't an order, per se- more of a warning beneath the restraint of desire. The space between you was alive, humming with an unspoken something. Perhaps it was that frustrated buzz of being too close, or perhaps it was simply fatigue from the mission.

"I don't think either of us is getting any sleep tonight," you murmured.

Blade's response was a low grumble, his voice rougher than before. "You're right." Then, ever so slightly, he moved closer, closing the gap until you could feel the heat of his body right against yours again. That subtle shift was enough for your breath to catch in your throat, and the space between you began pulsating with something far more dangerous than mere proximity.

He shifted; his eyes razor-sharp as he spoke, his voice low, almost too calm. "If you're going to keep fidgeting, just say what it is you want.”

You shifted again, your body moving against his in a slow, deliberate motion. The air between you wasn’t just charged—it was thick with unspoken desires and the undeniable pull of him. His heat radiated against your back, his presence a magnetic force that sent a shiver cascading down your spine.

"I don’t know what I want," you murmured, your voice a betrayal. The words faltered under the weight of their lie, and you knew he heard it too. You did know and so did he.

Blade's eyes narrowed, his gaze nearly predatory. "Don't play games," he warned, his voice low.

You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against your ass, insistent and unmistakable. It sent an electric jolt right to your core, making your breath hitch. Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you.

You bit your lip, fighting a moan as Blade's erection pressed even harder against your ass. The intense heat coming off his body seeped into your skin. You knew you should pull away, maintain the professional distance between, but temptation just proved too strong.

You arched your back, pushing against him. A low groan rumbled from his lips and you could feel his control slipping, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his need.

"Don't tease," he growled, low and rough with desire. His fingers gripped your skin, firm and possessive, leaving faint crescents in their wake. A warning, a promise. You should stop this—walk away before the fire consumes you both. But you didn’t. Instead, your body moved of its own accord, your back arching again, pressing your ass against him with deliberate insistence.

The low, guttural sound that escaped his lips was almost feral, reverberating through you and igniting something wild. Blade’s hand slid up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the edge of your shorts. You knew you should probably stop this but as his fingers hovered, promising more, the pull of temptation was too strong and you couldn’t push him away. You didn’t want to.

"Blade." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers curled around your thigh, jerking you closer. "Don't say my name like that," he growled, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Not unless you mean it."

You reached back deliberately, slowly, your hand finding his wrist. But instead of pushing him away, you pulled his hand higher, guiding his fingers to the damp heat between your legs. A low groan escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were, how much you wanted this.

Blade's fingers circled your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. His touch was electric, making your body shake with need.

His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, and making you ache for more. You arched your back, pressing your ass harder against his bulge. The friction was maddening; the heat between your bodies was almost unbearable.

"Please," you whispered. The word slipped out before you could catch it. "Blade, please."

The low growl was his immediate response, and his fingers slipped inside you. "Fuck," he growled, sounding rough with desire. "You're so wet."

You gasped as Blade's fingers plunged deep inside you, your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he thrust his fingers in and out, setting a brutal pace that had you seeing stars.

"That’s it-" he purred, his voice low and rough, sending shivers skittering down your spine. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, the words a seductive growl. "Take what you need."

The thought of his cock filling you, made your head spin. Your hand moved instinctively, fingers fumbling in a desperate attempt to free his cock. Blade's breath caught as your fingers reached around to his cock, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. You turned in his arms, facing him now, his eyes were dark with lust as you straddled him. "I want you," you breathed.

His hands gripped your hips, "Are you sure?" he growled, his voice rough with restraint.

You nodded, your lips skimming his.

His resolve shattered. You reached between your bodies, your hand slipping inside his pants to free him. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, the tip slick with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, teasing him, delighting in the low, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest. Blade’s control cracked further as his hips jerked into your hand.

"I'm sure," you breathed, positioning yourself above him. "I want you to fuck me, Blade. I need it."

With that, you sank down onto him, taking his cock deep inside you in one smooth motion. A low moan tore from your throat at the sensation of being stretched and filled so completely. Blade's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake.

"Fuck," he growled, his head falling back against the pillow. "You feel so good."

You started to move, rising up and sinking back down, finding a rhythm that had sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Blade matched your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours, driving himself deeper inside you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin, the bed creaking beneath you while you rode him.

"Harder," you demanded, your nails raking down his chest. "Fuck me harder."

Blade's response was to flip you onto your back, never once slipping out of you. He loomed over you, his eyes wild and hungry, his hips pistoning into you with a force that had the headboard slamming against the wall.

Your legs coiled around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, urging him to claim you fully. A moan tore from your lips, unbridled and desperate. "Yes," you gasped, your fingers clutching the sheets as his cock stretched and filled you, the sensation both overwhelming and addicting. "Don’t stop—just like that."

He silenced you with a bruising kiss, his mouth crashing against yours with a fervour that bordered on feral. His tongue danced against yours, matching the rhythm of his hips, exploring and claiming. You met him with equal hunger, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, the taste of copper blooming as you bit down. The sharp pain only seemed to drive him wilder.

Blade’s rhythm faltered for a moment, becoming chaotic, each thrust harder, deeper, as if he was losing control. His breath was ragged against your mouth, his groan reverberating low in his chest. "Fuck," he growled, the word guttural, strained, trembling with need. "I’m so close."

Your nails raked down his sweat-slicked back, leaving fiery trails along his skin. "Me too," you managed between breathless gasps, your body arching into him, seeking the climax coiling tight within you. "Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."

His movements turned punishing, each drive a collision of raw power and desperation, his body demanding your surrender. The pressure inside you built to a fever pitch, a tether about to snap. Blade’s voice cut through the haze, low and commanding, "Come for me, pretty girl."

Those words, spoken with such command, were enough to send you over the edge. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down around Blade's cock as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of intense, overwhelming pleasure.

"Yes -God yes!" you cried out, your head thrown back.

Blade followed, his hips slamming into you one final time as his release overtook him. His guttural groan was almost primal, his cock throbbing inside you as he poured himself into you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as some of his cum dripped out, running down your thighs.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was of your mingled breaths. Your bodies shone with sweat, were entwined. His weight pressed you into the mattress, exhaustion in his muscles.

Blade’s lips brushed against your temple, softer now, a contrast to the raw passion that had consumed you both moments before. And as your heartbeats slowed, his presence became the only thing you knew—a warmth, a gravity, pulling you under.

Blade rolled onto his back beside you, his arm pulling you close. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest.

"That was..." you started, but words failed you.

Blade chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "It was."

༉ - 2.8k

The corridors are quieter than usual tonight, save for the faint echo of your footsteps and the sound of Sir Sunday’s armour as he walks beside you. You have done this many times before: this midnight escort from the ballroom to your chambers, accompanied by your knight. But there was something about tonight that felt different and maybe that’s because the event was hosted to find you a suitor.

The silence stretches, broken only by the soft rustle of your gown against the polished floor. His presence always feels heavier, and there's an edge to the air between you, something unsaid pressing against the confines of propriety.

"They were all good choices," Sunday says at last, in a low and even tone.

Your brow furrows. "Were they?"

He doesn't look at you as he replies. "I'd expect so. The court wouldn't invite anyone unworthy.".

You look over at him, catching the faint tension in his jaw. There's something restrained in the way he speaks tonight, something tightly wound beneath the surface. "And yet, I didn't choose any of them.".

He exhales sharply, the sound barely audible over his steps. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

You slow your pace just enough that he has to adjust his stride to match. “Would you like to know them?”

His gaze flickers toward you briefly, a flash of gold under the dim light. “I doubt they’re for me to know, Your Highness.”

You stop to face him. The soft light casts shadows across his features, sharp and unreadable as always, but there’s something in his stance—a slight hesitation, the way his hand hovers just above the hilt of his sword—that betrays him.

"Maybe they are," you say, softer now, your voice barely enough to draw his attention fully.

For a moment, the distance between you feels insurmountable, though it's only a step or two. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, but his eyes search yours, as if trying to piece together what you're not saying aloud.

"I dismissed them all because none of them felt…" You pause, to think over the words. "....Right."

Sunday's grip tightens on the hilt of his sword. "You'll have to choose eventually," he says, deliberately keeping his voice neutral. "The court won't let you wait forever.".

"And what if I don't want to?"

The question hangs in the air, daring him to respond. You watch the flicker of something in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he’s worked too hard to keep buried.

“You’re the princess,” he says, but the words are softer this time, almost hesitant.

"And you're my knight," you reply, closing the distance.

He doesn't back up, but you notice the way his shoulders tense. "Exactly. And that is all I can be.".

Your breath catches at how his voice drops on the last word. There's no anger in it, no bitterness—only a quiet resignation.

"You think so, huh?" you whisper, not much louder than a whisper.

He turns away, tongue against his cheek. "I do."

You lift a hand before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing against the cold steel of his chest plate. The contrast between the armour and the warmth of the man beneath it sends a shiver through you. He freezes at the contact, his gaze snapping back to yours.

"Sunday…". His name is too familiar on your lips, but you can't stop.

"Don't." His voice is rough, but his hand rises, fingers curling loosely around your wrist. He doesn't pull you away, though; he doesn't move at all. "If you say anything else, I won't be able to forget it."

"Maybe I don't want you to."

The words have barely left your lips when he takes a step closer, erasing the distance between you. His eyes still remain so intense that they're pinning you in place, but there's a flicker of uncertainty there, too.

"This isn't a decision you can take lightly," he says in a low, hoarse voice.

"I already have."

He watches you, a silence building between you, gaining more and more weight with each passing second. Then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he lets go of your wrist only to frame your face with both hands.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours.

You don't.

His breath catches as you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, "I won't ask again," he whispers, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly that you are sure he can hear it. But you don't step back. You don't tell him to stop. You simply tilt your chin up, just a fraction, an invitation he doesn't need twice.

His lips brush against yours, tender at first, then pressing. It's the sort of kiss that seems like one great confession, revelation, and promise all at once. His hands move to the small of your back, drawing you closer, and you can't help but melt into him, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your stomach flip.

"We can't…" he begins, but the words are half-hearted, not very convincing.

"We can," you correct, your voice steadier than you feel.

He looks at you for a long moment, something fierce and tender warring in his expression. Then, with a low groan, he surges forward again, capturing your lips with his own. This kiss is harder, more urgent, and you can feel the way his body trembles against yours.

“Your chambers” he mumbles against your mouth. “Now.”

Without any warning, he sweeps you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest as he heads down the hall. Your heart races with the sudden motion, but you do nothing to protest it-merely wrapping your arms around his neck for balance.

The castle is quiet at this time of night, most people having gone to bed. You feel as though you have the whole world to yourselves as Sunday carries you swiftly through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the stillness.

He doesn’t wait around when you reach your chambers: he kicks the door shut behind you and pins you against it with his body, hands roaming over your curves, mapping out your form through the layers of your gown.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he growls, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. “Wanted you.”

You arch into him, your head falling back as you let him in closer. "Then take me," you whisper, fingers curling in his hair.

He makes a low sound in his throat, something between a groan and a growl. His fingers find the fastenings of your dress and begin to undo them one by one, till the fabric pools at your feet. You stand before him clad in nothing other than your chemise, the thin material doing little to mask the signs of your body's reaction to his touch.

His gaze rakes over you, hungry and appreciative. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

He lifts you easily and sets you down on the bed. The sheets are cold against your bare skin as he lays you down, his body following yours, looking down at you with an intensity that takes the breath from your lungs.

"You sure about this?" he asks low, his voice rough with emotion.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you whisper.

That seems to be the only confirmation he needs. He bends down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that sends a tide of heat through your body, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste you thoroughly. You moan against his lips, your hands roving over his hard back.

His lips trail down your neck, tracing a path of fire in their wake. He pauses to suckle at your pulse point, and you can feel the way your heart races beneath his tongue. His hands slip under your chemise, and his calloused fingers skim the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"Sunday-" you gasp, arching into his touch.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Just relax.”

You do your best to listen, focusing on the feel of his hands on your skin. He explores you at leisure, learning every dip and curve, every spot that makes you sigh or whimper. By the time he carefully removes your panties, you're trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with wanting. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, his fingers teasing at your entrance.

"Don't-please-."

He pauses, his fingers stilling above your pussy. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. "Are you-" he starts, his voice soft.

You nod, knowing exactly what he’s going to ask, "I've never…”

His expression softens further, if that’s even possible. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “We’ll take this slow.”

As you nod, he drops between your legs and his breath ghosts over your folds. He starts off slow, his tongue tracing delicate patterns and teasing you with light touches until, gradually, the pressure builds up, licking and sucking on your clit until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you with his mouth. He is patient, very attentive, judging by your reactions and modulating his technique accordingly. When you're trembling near the edge, he slips a finger inside you, then two, stretching you slowly.

"That's it," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin.

He groans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers through you. "You taste so fucking good," he mumbles, his words just a little slurred. "Can't get enough."

As he continues to lap at your clit, his free hand slides down his own body, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. You can hear the slick sound of skin on skin as he begins to stroke himself.

"Fuck," he gasps, his hips bucking into his hand. "Want to be inside you so badly."

He redoubles his efforts, his tongue delving deep, his fingers pumping faster. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. I want to taste you."

With a few more well-placed licks, you're there, crying out as pleasure crashes over you in waves. He laps at your release, his own hand moving frantically over his cock, his groans muffled from where he’s buried himself against your folds.

He easily settles himself between your thighs, his cock at your entrance. His eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness as he looked down at you.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes," you whisper. "I'm ready."

With a low groan, he starts to push inside, slow and careful with his movements. There's only a slight sting as he pushes in deeper, his eyes widening in concern.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his brow furrowed.

You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I'm okay. Please, don't stop."

He searches your eyes for a moment, then nods, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You can feel every inch of him as he stretches you, filling you in a way you never have been filled before; it's agonisingly slow, but he refuses to be selfish and make this about his own pleasure.

"Fuck," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel incredible."

He gives you a moment to adjust, his hips pressed flush against yours. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and shallow at first. Each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you can't help but moan.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Let me hear you."

He increases his pace gradually, his hands gripping your hips for leverage. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and cries.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans. His tongue delves into your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're taking me so well," he praises, his breath hot against your ear. "Such a good girl."

His hips roll in a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through you. One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple. The dual sensations make you gasp into his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours. "So perfect."

He shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. You cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you.

"There," he groans, doing it again. "Is that good?"

You can only nod, your nails digging into his back as he drives you higher and higher. The pleasure builds with each stroke, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

He groans, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself deep inside you. "Fuck, angel," he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. "I love you. I've loved you for so long."

The confession bursts from his lips in something like prayer, and his eyes shine with its vehemence. It is as though a dam has burst inside him and all his pent-up feelings are pouring out in this moment.

"I know you're s'posed to pick one from the court," he goes on, his pistoning never flagging. "But don't. Please. Don't give yourself to anybody else."

His hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging in soft. "Choose me," he begs, his voice cracking. "Be mine. Only mine."

You can almost feel the desperation in his words, the raw need. It's readily apparent how the thought of you with another man is tearing him apart.

"I'll do anything," he whispers, his forehead against yours. "Anything to keep you. Just say you'll be mine."

His words are like a warm bath washing over you, filling your heart full of something that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. In this moment, you know without a single doubt that you want to be his and his alone.

"I'm yours," you breathe, legs wrapping around his waist. "Now and always." He surges forward, capturing your lips in a reverent, passionate kiss. He picks up speed, his hips moving faster, harder, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of love he has into you.

"I love you," he gasps against your mouth. "I love you so much."

His thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Fuck," he groans. "I'm close. So close."

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his cock pulsing with each stroke. Your pleasure was mounting to a crescendo as well, your inner walls fluttering around him.

"Come with me," he pleads, voice ragged. "I want to feel you come undone." His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, and that's all it takes. You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of it.

He follows a moment later, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep inside you. He falls on top of you, his weight pinning you to the mattress. His cock still is buried deep inside, pulsating with aftershocks of his orgasm.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "That was... incredible," he murmurs, his voice muffled.

His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his lips brushing your pulse point. "Don't leave me."

You curl into him, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. "I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm right here."

He sighs contentedly, his grip on you loosening slightly. "Good," he murmurs. "Because I don't think I could bear it if you married any of them."

You smile, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. In this moment, everything feels right. The world outside might be chaos, but here, in his arms, you're safe. You're home.

༉ - 3.1k

Argenti sat on the floor of your dorm room, trying his best not to feel completely out of place. He’d been here a few times already—enough to recognise the familiar scent of citrus from the candles you always kept burning. But even so, it still felt a little surreal. You, the girl everyone at the university seemed to know and admire, had somehow invited him into your space.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One night, a random chat at a party turned into shared laughs, then another conversation, until the two of you were talking long after your friends had left. Since then, you’d found reasons to hang out, even though it seemed to baffle everyone around you. You, the social butterfly, and him, the reserved guy who somehow ended up regularly meeting up with you outside of classes.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” you suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence as you lounged on your bed.

“What’s weird?” Argenti asked, glancing up from the guitar pick he’d been absentmindedly fiddling with.

“Us.” You made a vague gesture between the two of you, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I mean, we’re just very different”

Argenti blinked, unsure of what you meant. Was it a good different? Or a bad one? “I—I guess,” he stammered, his voice unsure. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

You tilted your head, studying him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, it does,” you finally said, your smile softening. “You’re sweet, Argenti.”

“Thanks?” he mumbled, his face warming up. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the compliment made him feel a little lighter.

You laughed at his blush suddenly wondering if there was a reason he became so flustered over small things. Sitting up, you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Argenti froze, his face going red in an instant. “Uh… why?”

You shrugged, clearly amused by his reaction. “Because you’ve got that look. You know, like you’ve thought about it a lot but never actually done it.”

“I don’t… have a look,” he muttered, but even his awkward attempt to brush it off didn’t work. “But no. I haven’t.”

Your eyes widened, and then you laughed—a genuine, playful laugh that felt more teasing than mean. “Wait, seriously? Not even like a dare or something?”

He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. “No,” he mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “I just… never really had the chance.”

You didn’t let up. “You’re telling me you’ve gone your whole life without even one kiss?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” he blurted out, immediately regretting it. He winced, wishing he could take the words back.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, the teasing gleam in your eyes shifting into something more playful. “Are you saying you want to change that?”

“I—I didn’t mean—” Argenti stammered, his face burning. But then your hand brushed lightly against his arm, and he looked up to find you studying him, a mysterious glint in your eyes.

“You want me to teach you?” you asked, your voice quiet now, though still carrying that playful edge.

His heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“Relax, Argenti,” you said, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m not doing this out of pity. Trust me, you’re a good looking guy, pretty face.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or combust, but before he could say anything, you were already moving in, your gaze locked on his as you tilted your head. “Okay,” you murmured, voice soft. “Here’s how this works. Don’t overthink it. Just… follow my lead, alright?”

He nodded, his thoughts jumbled as he fought to find his bearings. Then your lips brushed against his—gentle, almost tentative, testing the waters. It was quick, almost too quick, and when you pulled away, you studied him with an amused expression, clearly pleased by the way he’d reacted.

Argenti’s mind spun for a moment, still reeling from the sudden soft pressure of your lips. But as your eyes met his again, something inside him clicked. The hesitation, the awkwardness—it all seemed so distant now. This was real, and there was no way he was going to let it slip away.

Without thinking, his hand rose to cup your cheek, gently pulling you toward him. His heart raced as the space between you vanished, and in a smooth motion, he leaned in again, this time with a newfound confidence.

The kiss came quickly, without hesitation, and it was unrestrained, still soft, but with a sense of urgency he hadn’t expected. He kissed you with intention now, the sweetness and eagerness spilling out in the way his lips moved against yours. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you just a little closer as if he wanted to lose himself in the moment. He’d never felt anything like this before.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. He stumbled a little, his lips not quite finding the rhythm, a few moments of clumsy movement as he tried to keep up. But in that imperfection, there was something pure. There was something real about it. Each time his lips brushed against yours, a little out of sync, you were patient, guiding him back.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a seasoned kisser. He made up for it with sweetness—lingering just a little longer than necessary, his hand never leaving your cheek, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Each time he leaned back in, he was driven by a need to prove that he could do this, that he wanted to be here with you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath coming in shallow gasps, he couldn’t help but glance up at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’d just run a marathon. His lips were swollen, and a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I probably messed that up.”

But when your gaze met his, there was no judgement, only amusement—and something softer, something deeper in your eyes.

“No,” you said gently, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You didn’t mess it up. It was… sweet. Really sweet.”

Argenti’s heart did a flip at the praise, and the knot in his stomach began to loosen. “I just—wanted to do it right,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to mess it up with you.”

You smiled, that familiar teasing gleam still in your eyes, but now with something warmer behind it. “Well, you didn’t. And if it helps, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s just… practice.” You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling mischievously. “And maybe a little bit of confidence. But don’t worry, I’m happy to teach you.”

The words sent a thrill through him. “I think I could learn from you,” he said, his voice a little breathless, his smile genuine. He was starting to feel more at ease, less unsure of himself. “I don’t mind practising.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing across his cheek, sending another wave of warmth through him. “Good,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “Because I’m not letting you off that easily.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any distance between your bodies.

He could feel the warmth of your skin through your clothes, could smell the faint scent of your perfume. It was dizzying, overwhelming in the best way. He lost himself in the sensation, in the taste of your lips, the softness of your mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Argenti's eyes were dark, pupils dilated with desire. "I want..." he started, then faltered, unsure how to put the ache inside him into words.

"What do you want, Argenti?" you asked, your voice a husky whisper. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

"I want to touch you," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "I want to see you" He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I want you."

He watched as your eyes searched his face, saw the moment understanding dawned. A slow, seductive smile spread across your lips, and your fingers tightened on his shirt. "Then show me what you want." you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

Argenti's breath caught, his body responding instantly to your words. Emboldened, he reached for you, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing inch after inch of smooth, warm skin. He drank in the sight of you, committing every curve and dip to memory.

When the shirt fell away, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. You tilted your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along your collarbone. His hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.

He could feel your heart racing beneath his touch, could hear the hitch in your breath as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. With a deft movement, he unhooked it, letting the garment fall away. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, naked from the waist up, your breasts full and perfect.

Unable to resist, he cupped one in his palm, marvelling at the feel of it, the softness. He thumbed your nipple, watching it pebble under his touch. Your breath hitched, and you arched into him, wordlessly encouraging him.

He took the hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing nips.

Your skin was hot beneath his hands, your body pliant and responsive. He could feel the heat building between your legs, could sense your arousal growing with each passing moment. It spurred him on, fuelled his own desire.

“Let me-” you whispered, wanting to help him out, noticing his obvious bulge.

Argenti's breath hitched as your hands moved to his belt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buckle. He watched, transfixed, as you slowly unzipped his jeans, your knuckles brushing against his straining erection.

He swallowed hard, his hips twitching involuntarily at the contact. "I want to make you feel good too," he managed to say, his voice rough with need.

You smiled, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Patience," you purred, pushing his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. Argenti groaned, his head falling back as pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking into your touch.

You increased your pace, your grip firm but gentle. Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them in your palm. "It’s pretty" you murmured, your breath hot against his ear.

Argenti's heart raced as your hand worked him over, pleasure sparking through his veins with each stroke. His cock throbbed in your grip, the sensation almost too intense to bear.

"Your hand—it feels incredible," he panted, his voice strained with need.

You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. You lowered your head, your tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up his shaft. Argenti's breath caught, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

You took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each descent. The wet heat of your mouth was exquisite, driving Argenti wild with pleasure. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he fought the urge to thrust into you.

You hummed around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Argenti's grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, your throat constricting around his throbbing cock. The sensation was indescribable, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pleasure built at the base of his spine, coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of your tongue.

He could feel his orgasm approaching, the tightening of his muscles. But he didn't want this to end, not yet. He wanted to savour every moment, every sensation.

He quickly pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you around me when I come."

You chuckle at his neediness as you lean across your bed, grabbing a condom from your drawer.

Argenti's eyes widened as you retrieved a condom from your drawer, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in his stomach. He watched as you tore open the packet and then rolled the condom onto his cock, your fingers brushing against his sensitive skin, making him shudder.

Once the condom was in place, you turned around, giving Argenti a tantalising view of your ass as you bent over slightly. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, revealing your pussy to him.

Argenti's mouth went dry at the sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pressed himself against you. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin.

Argenti's hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his condom-sheathed cock nudging against your slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, beckoning him to plunge inside.

"I've never done this before," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I want to do it right. I want to make you feel good."

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Just go slow," you murmured, reaching back to guide him forward. "And don't worry about doing it perfectly. Just focus on how it feels."

Argenti nodded, taking a deep breath as he began to push forward. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced - the tight heat of your pussy enveloping him, drawing him deeper. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the feeling. Inch by inch, he sank into you, until he was buried to the hilt.

Argenti bit down on his lip, fighting the urge to come right then and there. The sensation of being inside you was overwhelming, your tight heat gripping him like a vice. He could feel every flutter of your walls around his cock, every pulse of your arousal.

"Shit-” he gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wanted this to last, wanted to make it good for you.

Slowly, carefully, he began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before sliding back in. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, measured strokes. Your moans filled the room, spurring him on. He could feel your body responding to his, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"Is this good?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Your reassuring moans and the way your body moved against his told Argenti all he needed to know. He continued to thrust, gradually increasing his pace as he grew more confident.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathy gasps and his low groans. Sweat beaded on his brow as he lost himself in the sensation, in the feel of your body beneath his. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to make sure you reached your peak first.

His hand slid around your hip, finding your clit. He rubbed in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Argenti's fingers worked your clit in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him as your pleasure mounted.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Argenti knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder, faster, his fingers circling your clit with increasing pressure.

Suddenly, your back arched, your head thrown back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched around him, rippling along his cock, and Argenti groaned, the sensation pushing him over the brink.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his vision whiting out as he rode out the intensity of his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Finally, Argenti slipped out of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside you on the bed. He turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

Argenti's heart swelled at the gentle press of your lips against his forehead. The simple, tender gesture spoke volumes, conveying a depth of care and affection that he'd never experienced before.

He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you down for a soft, lingering kiss. It was different from the heated passion of before, this kiss. It was sweet, almost chaste, a physical manifestation of the connection growing between you.

When you pulled away, he gazed into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

“You’re a natural.” you joke with a soft laugh as you wrap your arms around him.

Argenti chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he rested his head against your chest. "I think I'm a quick learner."

༉ - 2.5k

The casino floor was alive with energy, especially at your table. You and Aventurine had been on a streak for so long it was starting to turn heads. Chips piled up in neat stacks in front of you both, the gleam of gold and the scent of success making the night feel almost unreal.

“Another win,” Aventurine announced casually as the dealer slid another stack his way. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, the picture of effortless cool. “But let’s be real here. This run? It’s all because of me. Clearly, I’m your lucky charm.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you gave him an incredulous look. “You’re my lucky charm? I think you’ve got that backwards. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Oh, is that how it is? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’ve been carrying this team all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Carrying? Please. I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.”

Aventurine laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a pleasant thrill up your spine. He tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your pulse quicken. “You talk a big game for someone who wouldn’t be winning without me. Admit it—you’re having fun because I’m here.”

You leaned in closer, matching his energy. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. “It’s so much fun watching you pretend you’re the reason we’re winning when we both know who’s really the lucky one here.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, the playful challenge in them unmistakable. “Careful, or I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

You grinned, tapping a finger on the table. “What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.”

Aventurine barked a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “A slot machine? That’s the best you’ve got?” He leaned even closer, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“And you love it,” you said with a wink, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your words.

Aventurine’s grin widened, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head slightly. “You know what? You might be right. Guess I’ve got a weakness for confident types.”

The air between you shifted, the playful banter taking on a sharper edge. You refused to back down, instead, you leaned in, your faces just inches apart now.

“Careful, Aventurine,” you said, your voice soft but laced with teasing. “If you keep flirting like that, I might start thinking you’re not just here for the gambling.”

His gaze flicked to your lips for just a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes, his smirk now decidedly more dangerous. “Maybe I’m not.”

The tension between you and Aventurine was electric, the noise of the casino fading into a distant hum. His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with mischief and something more daring. Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, metallic keycard.

He twirled it between his fingers like it was a chip, the move impossibly smooth. “You’re good at reading between the lines,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Think you can figure out what this means?”

Your gaze flicked to the keycard, then back to his face, your heart pounding as your brain scrambled for a witty retort. “Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re trying to skip ahead in the game. Aren’t you supposed to take me out to dinner first?”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound rumbling and warm. He slid the card across the table, stopping it just in front of your hand.

You picked up the card slowly, holding it between your fingers as if weighing your options. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said smoothly, leaning back with a confidence that was infuriatingly attractive. “Unless you count spending more time with me. But if that’s too much of a gamble, I’d understand.”

He collected his chips as he stood up, leaving the table, “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Wouldn’t want that luck to run out, now would we?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you stood, slipping the card into your pocket. “Not a chance.”

—

You locate the room number on the keycard and slide it into the lock. The door swings open to reveal a spacious suite, all sleek lines and modern decor, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights below.

Aventurine is leaning against the wall by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turns as you enter, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually show," he says, his voice a low purr. "But I'm glad you did."

You close the door behind you, turning to face him fully. "And miss an opportunity like this? Not a chance."

He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between you with a few easy strides. "Opportunity for what, exactly?" he asks, his gaze roaming over your features with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

You meet his eyes boldly, refusing to be intimidated. "For whatever you have planned," you say, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart.

Aventurine's lips curve into a smirk, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Careful what you wish for," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You might just get it."

Your pulse races at his touch, desire and anticipation coiling tightly in your belly. "Promises, promises," you breathe, tilting your head into his palm.

His answering chuckle is dark and full of promise. "Oh, I always keep my promises," he says, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and demanding, and you're lost in the taste and feel of him, the world falling away until there's nothing but the two of you, caught up in a dance.

You melt into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in Aventurine's hair, pulling him closer as you press your body against his. He responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.

He tastes of whiskey and sin, and you can't get enough. Your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath your palms. He groans into your mouth, his hips pressing forward to grind against you, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

"Bedroom," he rasps against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

You nod, breathless and wanting, allowing him to lead you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind you, then spins you around, pinning you against it with his body. His hands are everywhere, slipping under your clothes to stroke heated skin, his mouth trailing fire along your neck.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

Your breath hitches as Aventurine's hands roam your body, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You arch into him, craving more, needing to feel every inch of him against you.

He groans, low and primal, his hips grinding harder against yours. His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and off, leaving you bare from the waist up. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts. He leans down, his mouth hot against your skin as he kisses a trail down your sternum, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipple.

You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for, only knowing that you need more, need him.

He chuckles, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love," he purrs, his hands sliding down to pop the button of your jeans. "We've got all night."

And then he's on his knees in front of you. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes hooded and full of promise.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your jeans.

You nod mutely, your heart pounding in your chest as Aventurine slowly slides your jeans down your legs, his hands caressing your skin as he goes. He tosses them aside carelessly, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which are already damp with arousal.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your panties. "You're so wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the damp spot. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."

You squirm under his touch, desperate for more. "Please," you whimper, your hands fisting in his hair. "I need..."

"Shh," he soothes, placing a kiss over your clothed pussy, licking a stripe along your covered slit. "I know what you need. Just relax and let me take care of you."

And then he's pulling your panties aside, his fingers stroking through your slick folds. You gasp, your hips bucking into his touch. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin.

"So responsive," he praises, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "I can't wait to taste you."

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping at your essence. You cry out, your head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He works you skilfully, his tongue alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks against your clit. His fingers join in, pumping in and out of you, curling to hit that spot inside that makes you see stars.

Your legs tremble as Aventurine's skilled mouth works you over, his tongue delving deep, lapping at your essence. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Aventurine," you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair, pressing his face harder against your aching pussy. "I'm... I'm going to-"

He moans in response, the vibrations sending you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumes you. You grind against his face, riding out the waves of pleasure, his name a broken cry on your lips.

He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to wring every last drop of pleasure from your body. Finally, you collapse back against the door, boneless and sated, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Aventurine rises, his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips, his eyes dark with hunger. "So sweet," he purrs, his voice rough. "I could do that forever.”

You can only moan in response, your body still thrumming with aftershocks. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He takes your hand, leading you to the bed, pushing you down onto the plush mattress. He crawls over you, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the sheets.

"I need to be inside you," he growls, his hips grinding against yours, letting you feel the hard length of him through his pants. "I need to feel you wrapped around me, squeezing me.”

You reach down, fumbling with the button of his pants, desperate to free his cock. He helps you, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to spring free, his erection bobbing against your stomach.

"Please," you whimper, wrapping your hand around him, stroking the velvety soft skin. "I need you, too. I need to feel you stretch me, fill me."

He groans, his hips thrusting into your hand. "Fuck, you're killing me," he pants, reaching down to position himself at your entrance.

With a single, powerful thrust, Aventurine pushes his cock all the way inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your body struggles to adjust to his size. He stills, giving you a moment to acclimate, his forehead resting against yours.

"Breathe," he murmurs, his hips flexing slightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."

You take a shuddering breath, your inner walls fluttering around him. Slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips against his, urging him deeper. He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

"You feel incredible," he pants, his lips brushing against your ear. "I could stay buried inside you forever and die happy."

You clench around him, relishing the feel of him stretching you, filling you. "More," you demand, your nails digging into his back.

He laughs breathlessly, complying with your request, his hips snapping against yours with increased force. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

Aventurine's thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he nears his peak. His hands grip your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he pounds into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed.

"Come with me," he demands, his voice a guttural growl. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

Your body tenses, your inner walls fluttering around him as your orgasm approaches. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he finds his release.

The feel of him coming inside you is enough to push you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows you, his hips jerking as he spills his cum deep within you.

You collapse back against the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Aventurine follows suit, laying down beside you. He leans over peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. "You’re beautiful" he murmurs, his voice soft with satisfaction.

You smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked skin.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I aim to please," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I'm not done with you yet, love. Not by a long shot."

You shiver at the promise in his words, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Is that so?" you ask, arching an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

His grin is wicked, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "Oh, I think you'll find out soon enough.”

༉ - 2.8k

Topaz’s flat was warm and inviting, the perfect spot to unwind for a casual evening. Soft amber light spilled across the room, casting a cosy glow that made the space feel like home. Somewhere in the background, faint music played that blended perfectly with the gentle clinking of glasses and low chatter.

“We’ll be right back,” Aventurine called out, with Topaz trailing close behind as they disappeared toward the kitchen.

You had settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa, a glass of wine in hand and Veritas lounging beside you. Tonight, he seemed different—relaxed in a way you rarely saw. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie discarded, and his usually immaculate hair slightly mussed, as though he’d finally let the weight of the day slip away.

The air between you buzzed with the kind of easy familiarity that only came with years of friendship, though tonight there was something else–.

“Another top-up?” Veritas asked, his voice smoother and slower than usual as he reached for the wine bottle on the low table. Without waiting for an answer, he topped off your glass and then poured more into his own.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you teased, though you made no move to stop him. “If I wake up with a headache tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

He smirked, swirling his wine with an air of mock innocence. “I’d argue it’s your fault for being such agreeable company.”

The words lingered, their meaning sharper than his usual dry humour. You glanced down at your glass, suddenly unsure what to say. Was it the wine, or was there something more in his tone tonight?

“Quiet now, are we?” he teased, leaning in just slightly. “You’re usually quicker with a retort.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Just giving you a moment to bask in your supposed wit.”

His chuckle was low and warm, the kind of sound that settled somewhere deep in your chest. His knee grazed yours, a light touch that didn’t feel accidental. When you shifted slightly, his arm brushed against yours and lingered, just enough to make you wonder if he’d noticed it too.

“I’ve always admired that about you,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Admired what?” you asked, your pulse quickening.

“You have this way of making even the most tedious conversations feel alive.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, he wasn’t the sharp, collected man you knew so well. “Though I don’t think this moment qualifies as tedious, does it?”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. It doesn’t.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. His hand found yours, his fingers warm and steady, and though the gesture caught you off guard, you didn’t pull away. His thumb traced slow circles over your skin, sending a rush of heat up your arm.

“Veritas—” you began, but your voice faltered.

“Too much?” he asked gently, his brows drawing together, as if he was ready to let go at the slightest hint of hesitation.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not too much.”

His shoulders relaxed, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his lips. He shifted closer, his arm sliding along the back of the sofa until his fingers brushed your shoulder. The scent of his cologne—something crisp with a faint warmth beneath it—lingered in the space between you, making your head swim.

The world beyond the sofa seemed to fade. His presence filled the room, his thumb still tracing light, deliberate circles on your hand. When his fingers grazed your neck, their touch feather-light, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and earnest. “Should I be worried?”

You turned to face him, and suddenly his face was so close to yours. His gaze locked onto yours, and your breath hitched. It felt impossible to look away.

“Not worried,” you managed softly. “Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he quipped, though his voice held less humour now. His hand shifted, brushing along the curve of your jaw. His touch was barely there, yet it lit up every nerve. “Care to share?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t know what to say, but because the words carried weight. “I was thinking,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart, “that you don’t seem as restrained as usual tonight.”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe—passed across his face before he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual teasing smirk; it was softer, quieter, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Restraint,” he murmured, “has its time and place. And this… doesn’t feel like one of them.”

The charged silence between you was almost unbearable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to stop him, but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tentative, like he was testing the waters. It was fleeting, yet it left your heart racing. His hand slipped to your jaw, steady and warm as he kissed you again, this time with more certainty.

You melted into him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was fast beneath your palms, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“We should…” His voice was rough now, laced with restraint. “Move somewhere more private.”

Your heart jumped at the suggestion, and you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Yeah.”

He stood smoothly, his hand slipping into yours as he cast a quick glance toward the kitchen. When he was sure your friends were still out of sight, he guided you down the hallway. His touch was firm, grounding, but there was a tenderness in the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

At the end of the hall, he paused outside a closed door. His free hand found the handle, turning it slowly. The hinge creaked softly as he pushed the door open, revealing the spare bedroom. He guided you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room was small but cosy, with a large window that let in a silver glow.

Veritas turned to face you, his expression a blend of uncertainty and desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We can stop if you want to."

His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your palm, and you marvelled at the softness of his stubble against your fingers.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, they were dark with want.

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was nothing like the tentative brush of lips from earlier. This time, there was no holding back. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the firmness of his muscles.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. He tasted of wine and something uniquely him - a flavour you knew you'd crave forever. His tongue teased your lower lip before delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming with a passion that left you breathless.

Slowly, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you. "Tell me you want this," he breathed, his hands settling on your hips. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

The words were a plea, a confession. In this moment, the usually composed and controlled Veritas Ratio was laid bare before you, vulnerable and wanting. Your heart swelled with affection and desire.

"I want this," you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest to link behind his neck. "I need you. Please, Veritas..."

His name on your lips seemed to break the last of his restraint. With a groan, he kissed you again, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

It wasn’t long before Veritas' fingers deftly worked at the zipper on his trousers, his movements quick yet precise, revealing the bulge straining against his underwear. With a deft tug, he freed his cock, the hard length springing forth, already flushed and throbbing with need.

He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him. Moonlight spilled across his body, highlighting the contours of his muscles, the defined lines of his abs. His cock was long, with a prominent vein on the underside.

You wasted no time, sinking to your knees before him. The plush carpet cushioned your knees, but you barely noticed. His cock jutted out, hard and proud, the tip glistening with pre-cum in the moonlight.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. He was hot and heavy in your grasp, the skin velvety soft over the rigid flesh beneath. You stroked him slowly, savouring the weight of him, the way he twitched and throbbed against your palm.

Veritas groaned, his head falling back as he savoured your touch. "God," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "Feels so good-”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. The taste of him exploded across your tongue, salty and musky, uniquely him.

Emboldened, you took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. He was big, filling your mouth completely, but you revelled in it. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

"Fuck," Veritas gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that, baby. Take me deeper."

You obeyed, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you held him there, your nose pressed against his pelvis, breathing in his scent.

Veritas’ grip on your hair tightened, his hips rocking forward slightly. "God, sweetheart," he moaned, his voice strained. "You're incredible."

The praise washed over you, spurring you on. You bobbed your head, setting a steady rhythm as you worked him with your mouth. Your hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm.

Veritas' hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you further down his shaft. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take all of me."

You complied eagerly, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward until your nose nestled against his pelvis. The scent of him filled your senses, musky and intoxicating. You held him there, savouring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he throbbed against your palate.

"God, beautiful-" Veritas gasped, his hips rocking forward slightly. "You're so good at this. So fucking perfect."

His words sent a thrill through you, stoking the heat building in your core. You pulled back slowly, letting him slide from your mouth with a lewd pop. Strings of saliva connected your lips to his cock, glistening in the moonlight.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I want to see you get off while you suck my cock."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you didn't hesitate. Your hand slid beneath your skirt. You were already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin.

You circled your clit with your fingertip, gasping at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you. Ratio watched with hooded eyes, his cock twitching in your grip.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his hand guiding your head as you took him back into your mouth. "Make yourself feel good. I want to hear you moan around my cock."

You obeyed, increasing the pressure of your fingers as you sucked him deeper. Your other hand came up to fondle his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. The combined sensations were overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing second.

Veritas’ breath came in short, sharp gasps as you worked him with your mouth and hands. His cock throbbed against your tongue, the veins along the shaft pulsing with need. You could tell he was getting close, his hips rocking faster, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly, he pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. "As much as I love your mouth," he panted, his eyes dark with lust, "I need to be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing at the thought. He helped you to your feet, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. With a swift motion, he pushed your skirt up around your waist and tugged your panties down your thighs.

Veritas gently pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger. "Always been so pretty" he murmured, his hands skimming up your thighs to your hips.

He settled between your legs, the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You could feel his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Slowly, he pushed forward, stretching you open around him.

You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. He was so big, filling you completely. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

His words sent shivers down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He obliged, his thrusts growing harder, faster.

The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. Veritas' hands gripped your hips, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. But you didn't mind the pain, not when pleasure was coursing through your veins like liquid fire.

Despite the intense sensations coursing through your body, you bit your lip, muffling your moans and gasps. The thought of Aventurine and Topaz hearing you in the other room was enough to keep you silent, even as Veritas’ thrusts grew harder, deeper.

He seemed to sense your restraint, his eyes locking with yours in the darkness. "Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want to hear you.”

You shook your head, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You couldn't risk it, couldn't bear the thought of your friends walking in and catching you in such a compromising position.

Veritas frowned slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, swallowing your silent cries of pleasure.

His hips never stopped moving, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body. You could feel your climax building, getting closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Let go. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. With a muffled cry, you came undone, your body convulsing beneath him as you gushed around his cock. Veritas quickly pulled out, his cum shooting out and splattering on your folds.

You lay there in the aftermath, your chest heaving, your limbs trembling. He collapsed on top of you, his weight a welcome comfort.

Slowly he rolled off you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you close, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his heart racing, matching the pounding of your own.

He kissed your shoulder softly. "We should probably get cleaned up and head back out there," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "Before Aventurine and Topaz come looking for us."

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him one last time before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth.

༉ - 2.5k

The training grounds hummed with the steady rhythm of swords meeting swords, the sharp ring of steel echoing in the air. You were lost in the rhythm, your every move precise as you worked through the drills Jing Yuan had set for you.

The weight of the training session was starting to catch up with you—your muscles burning, sweat trickling down your back—but you refused to stop. His gaze was always on you, but today, there was something about it that made your heart race a little.

Jing Yuan was a study in effortless grace, each movement fluid and controlled as he parried your strikes. His hair shimmered in the sunlight. His composure was unmatched—he never seemed to break a sweat, even when you were struggling to keep up. And yet, his every motion felt like a reminder that you still had so much to learn.

“You’re improving,” he said suddenly, his voice a smooth, unwavering contrast to the intensity of the training. He dodged your strike so easily it was as if he already knew it was coming. “But you’re still too tense. Stop thinking so much- Let your instincts take over.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words. You couldn’t quite explain it, but his praise always felt so... personal. It was like he wasn’t just teaching you how to fight; he was seeing something deeper. And you hated how giddy that made you feel.

The practice continued, but with each passing moment, it became harder to focus. Every glance he gave you seemed to leave you a little more flustered, his every compliment a spark that made your heart flutter. You tried to shake it off, to stay in the moment, but your movements became a little less fluid.

“That’s better,” he said again, his eyes narrowing as he watched you catch your breath. “You have the power. You just need to learn to channel it.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin. It wasn’t that you weren’t good at sword fighting, but when Jing Yuan spoke to you like that, it felt different. His words were a quiet evaluation, but they made your heart feel exposed, as though he was seeing right through you.

Minutes blended together in a haze of quick movements and hurting muscles. The sweat on your forehead trickled, and you could feel the strain in your arms and legs, but you pushed yourself harder, determined not to disappoint him. Finally, when the session was over, you dropped your sword, your breathing heavy.

"That's enough for today," Jing Yuan said, his voice quiet yet imperative as he stepped toward you. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the fatigue in your eyes, the way you were trying to steady your breathing. "You have worked hard.

You managed a small smile, though the weight of the session left you feeling drained. "I'm fine," you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You weren't sure if you were convincing anyone, least of all him.

He studied you a moment longer, his sharp eyes picking up the subtle signs: the way you were holding your breath, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly. With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The touch was light, but it sent a ripple of warmth through you, and you couldn't quite keep the flutter from your chest.

"Let me check you over-" he said, his voice dropping an octave soft yet purposeful. "make sure you're not hurt."

The words should’ve been routine, should’ve been just another part of the training, but the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered a little longer than usual, made everything feel different. His touch was so careful as he ran his hands over your arms, your shoulders, your ribs—light and methodical, almost as if he were memorising every detail of you. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks through your skin, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally.

“Does this hurt?” His fingers pressed against a sore spot near your ribs where you'd taken a hit earlier.

You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat, before shaking your head. "It's a little sore.

His eyes softened, a glint of concern in them as he regarded you, yet there was something else, too-something more than mere mentorship. The air between you grew thick with unspoken tension, not exactly teacher and student, but something else entirely. His presence overwhelmed you; the way he watched you-also so intense-made it even harder to think clearly.

Before you could catch yourself, your fingers grazed his chest-just the lightest touch, but it felt like an electric jolt went through you. The space between you contracted, and the pull you'd been fighting became too much. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a fleeting, impulsive kiss.

The world seemed to stop for that second, and then Jing Yuan froze. His body stiffened, and for a second you thought you'd made a terrible mistake. But when he pulled back, his expression wasn't anger or confusion-it was soft, searching. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he were trying to understand the emotions swirling there.

You stepped backward in haste, heat flooding your face as you muttered, "I- I didn't mean-"

But before you could get the words out, his hand was cupping your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. His thumb stroked your skin with soft gentleness-a motion that made your heart thud. "Don't apologise," he said, his voice soft, low-assuring. "You don't have to be sorry."

The air between you seemed to thicken with the weight of the moment. Jing Yuan leaned in just slightly, giving you space to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You stood there, your heart racing in your chest, the tension building with each breath you took.

“I think…” he began, his voice a little quieter, “you’re not the only one who’s been holding back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That was all he needed to say, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The spark between you wasn’t one-sided. And maybe this was the beginning of something neither of you had expected.

Slowly, hesitantly, you reached up to cover his hand with your own, pressing it more firmly against your cheek. "Then what’s stopping us?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jing Yuan's eyes darkened at your words, a flash of hunger in their depths. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

With those words, Jing Yuan closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate, desperate kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you.

You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervour. The world spun around you, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips on yours, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing.

You felt yourself being pulled into Jing Yuan's embrace, your bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that left you breathless. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, his taste, his very essence.

Time seemed to stand still, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. Jing Yuan's hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. You arched into him, craving more of his touch.

Jing Yuan broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was a flicker of concern there too. "We should move somewhere more private," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "There are too many prying eyes here."

You nodded, your heart still racing as you glanced around the training grounds. He was right. Anyone could stumble upon you like this, could see the way you were clinging to each other, the way your lips were swollen from his kisses. The thought sent a thrill through you, even as it filled you with a sense of urgency.

Jing Yuan took your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as he led you away from the training grounds. You followed him willingly, your steps quick and eager, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his touch. He led you through the winding paths of the gardens, past flowering bushes and babbling fountains, until you reached a secluded grove hidden behind a curtain of willow branches.

As soon as you were out of sight, Jing Yuan pulled you into his arms once more, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you kissed him back. His hands roamed over your body, slipping beneath your clothes to caress the heated skin beneath.

Your hands fumbled with the fastenings of Jing Yuan's robes, your fingers shaking with a mix of anticipation and nerves. He helped you, his own hands working to remove your clothing with a practised ease that belied his gentle touch. Soon, the fabric fell away, leaving you both bare in the dappled sunlight filtering through the willow branches.

Jing Yuan's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze appreciative as he drank in the sight of you. "You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. His hands skimmed over your curves, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Your fingers trailed over the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his abdomen, marvelling at the feel of his skin beneath your palms.

Jing Yuan groaned at your touch, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You could feel his cock, hot and insistent against your stomach, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. Your own body responded in kind, aching and throbbing with a need that was almost painful in its intensity.

His lips found your neck, his teeth nibbling, and tongue leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the sensation. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.

"Jing Yuan," you gasped, your voice breathy and needy. "Please..."

His response was to lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you. Jing Yuan pressed you against the cool stone wall of the garden, his body pinning you in place as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your legs tightened around his waist, drawing him closer, craving more of his touch.

He held you up with one arm as the other delved lower, his fingers finding your pussy. You were already wet, your body ready for him, and he groaned at the feeling. "So ready for me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."

His fingers circled your clit, teasing and stroking, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You rocked your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Jing Yuan obliged, his fingers sliding lower to dip inside you, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need. "Please," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."

Jing Yuan's eyes met yours, "I've got you," he promised, his voice low and husky. And with that, he pushed forward

Jing Yuan’s cock pushed inside you slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your face for any sign of discomfort. You could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, filled you, your body adjusting to his size. It was a delicious burn, a sweet ache that only made you want more.

"Dove," he breathed, the pet name a reverent whisper on his lips. His hips pressed forward, burying himself deeper inside you, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. "So tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips for support. "So perfect."

You clung to him, meeting his thrusts. The pleasure was immense, overwhelming, and you could feel yourself already teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Jing Yuan's thrusts grew harder, faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he lost himself in the feel of you.

His thrusts grew more urgent, more demanding, as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. His hips slammed against yours, driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

Jing Yuan's lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you harder, deeper. His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, circular motions. The added stimulation was too much, and you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure, blinding ecstasy.

"Atta girl," Jing Yuan growled, his voice strained with his own impending release.

Your walls clenched around him, milking his length as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax. Jing Yuan followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he emptied himself inside you, ropes of cum spilling inside you.

As the final waves of your shared ecstasy subsided, Jing Yuan held you close, his body still intimately connected with yours. He peppered your face with soft, tender kisses, his hands gently stroking your hair and caressing your back. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had just consumed you both.

"Think that was a good training session" he joked, his voice low and content.

You couldn't help but laugh, a breathless, giddy sound that bubbled up from your chest. "I think that was the best training session I've ever had," you replied, your words laced with a mix of humour and sincerity.

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

#may or may not have yapped...A LOT for this #eris said it was fine so here i am #chef's kiss #mwah!#ack—#archived #hsr #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader

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ryssabrin · 2 days ago

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i feel like people who don’t like solas or solavellan have such a warped perspective of what the romance is and how fans of it actually engage in it. like i’ve seen a lot of (most likely het dudes lol) on reddit say they tried it to see what the fuss was but felt it was “demeaning” and i’ve seen it described as literally a horror story where solas is manipulating and using and lying to a young impressionable lavellan who gives up her entire identity for him and becomes a complete doormat to all the awful shit he does. that’s never been my experience and i kinda just want to ramble about how i see it and what i find romantic about it?

so full disclosure, if veilguard had come out a few years ago with how they portrayed lavellan and solavellan i might have been pretty disappointed. i think there is a subset of the solavellan fanbase that likes the wolf/halla or student/professor thing and they play their lavellan younger and agreeing almost without question to everything solas says. i see the appeal but i never played my lavellan that way and i really like the dynamic of it when lavellan actually goes against his advice at times. solas is a character that needs to have his preconceived biases questioned. especially in inquisition when he’s still coming to terms with the fact that the modern people of thedas are in fact people lol. so i was concerned at the prospect of my lavellan being taken out of my hands and having to listen to her make excuses for him and submit to everything he says. (which tbf i don’t think is how she actually comes across in dav, but that was a worry.)

however when i replayed my canon dai run this year, i realized i was closer to the age i always saw my lavellan as (early 30s), and as my lavellan is probably the bioware pc i’ve always played closest to my own personality, i took the opportunity to tweak her a bit and make some different choices. i’ve (hopefully lol) matured and grown a lot since i was 24 and so rather than going for the snarky sarcastic cool girl vibes i opted to play her with more diplomatic and caring choices. it made me see the solas romance in a completely new light. rather than some sort of student/professor dynamic or a pride and prejudice-esque rivals-to-lovers vibe where lavellan is fighting for his respect the whole time, what stuck out to me was how much their connection builds simply because lavellan is kind to solas. she hears him out when he wants to give his opinions and advice, she respects his expertise on the fade and spirits, and she offers him comfort and friendship when she sees he needs it. she impresses him because he finds himself wanting to indulge in her closeness. he finds a connection to someone he never expected to and it makes him rethink everything about the broken state he put the world in.

it’s worth noting that lavellan is always making the first move. she kisses him first, she pursues him. he tries to brush off the kiss as a spontaneous lapse in judgement and she doesn't let him. he only ever gives in to her advances, he doesn't make them himself. he calls their relationship "selfish" on his end. he knows he shouldn't be encouraging her but he can't help but long for her companionship. that being said though if lavellan shuts it down he respects it. he probably feels a little relief because the temptation is now out of his hands lol.

i feel like there’s also this perception that he’s constantly shitting on the dalish while lavellan just has to put up with it and that alone is reason enough to find the relationship demeaning. he mentions the dalish in one optional conversation chain where you ask him for his opinion on the state of the elves and then in the balcony scene where he realizes he’s misjudged the inquisitor after his personal quest. in both instances, lavellan can stick up for the dalish. in the optional conversation, lavellan can say that if solas had a bad experience with a clan once (which we know from dav is exactly what happened lol), that she’d like to correct that misunderstanding about her people.

it's worth noting as well that lavellan doesn't know solas is the dread wolf when he's criticizing the dalish. from her perspective, he's essentially a city-born elf who had some dalish look down their nose at him for not being a "true elf" like they are, something that not only happens in canon throughout the games and lavellan would be aware of, but literally happens to solas specifically, right in front of you. he doesn't say a single word to mihris and she doesn't know a thing about him other than his face is bare and thus feels comfortable referring to him with what is essentially a slur. but rather than confront her directly about it he just passive aggressively speaks to her in elven almost exclusively for the rest of the quest lol.

far from the dynamic being that lavellan is just putting up with someone talking down to her about her culture, i think it's reasonable to see her view is more that they're both members of the same marginalized group, but from different cultures. his position in criticizing the dalish is not punching down it's lateral. she loves her culture, but is able to recognize it has flaws and not every member in it treats other cultures well, particularly even when they're from the same marginalized group. (and it's also just really meaningful that the first "flirt" option you get in the solas romance is lavellan recognizing that solas has put himself in a very vulnerable position as an elven apostate joining the chantry-led inquisition and with whatever power she has she will make sure that it's not held against him.)

i do think the writing conveys that he does have his mind changed about the dalish at least a little bit, but one of his pet peeves is when people are ignorant and refuse any information that challenges their worldview. as a manifested wisdom spirit, it is a particular sticking point to him to not be listened to when he is providing knowledge. i think criticism of how he is towards the dalish is lacking without taking into account his nature as a spirit. obvs we didn’t know that in dai but we do now. when wisdom isn't listened to it turns to pride. "i told you so," "i'll prove i'm right," "you should have listened to me," etc. etc. he got his feelings hurt when the dalish didn't believe him (and according to dav, literally tried to kill him) and his ego's held a grudge ever since.

when it comes to the vallaslin, to me it’s less about solas wanting to dismantle part of dalish culture (he offers no actual opinion on the dalish during that scene) and more that it clearly bothers him a lot that he fought so hard to free the elves from slavery and the one community of elves that’s closest to the descendants of the people he wanted to free still wears tattoos honoring the very tyrants he wanted to free them from. if lavellan says she wants to keep them and that the dalish reclaimed them and they mean something else to her, he doesn’t argue. i actually don’t like that solas’s post breakup banter with cole implies that lavellan thinks he might have broken up with her over the vallaslin. it’s putting thoughts in the head of my character that i personally don’t see her having. the way the breakup plays out, there’s not a single indication that it has anything to do with the vallaslin. i like to pick the “i believe in us” option because it shows lavellan having some idea that there’s something solas isn’t telling her and that’s the main reason he’s walking away. and the irony of course is that we learn in dav that that was the moment he came the closest to just giving up everything to just be with her.

so when i played through dav with my solasmance lavellan and she talks about what drew her to him it all just felt so right. he was kind and wise and sad but he made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him. (and that was very almost true!) there was a passion and intensity to their relationship that made her think he was the person she wanted to be with forever. when she says "i thought i would have followed anywhere he asked me to" you could read it as her saying she would have joined him in tearing down the veil if he asked and depending on your lavellan that might be true (though in the next bit she talks about how she would have been trying to change his mind anyways). but you could also read it as what her mindset was while she was with him during dai. before joining the inquisition, she knew him to be someone that traveled the world looking for lost secrets and history. why would she not have wanted to join him in that? is that not something you do when you're in love with someone?

something else that i find really compelling about solavellan is how solas relates to the inquisitor (not just lavellan) as a figurehead stripped of their personal identity. he knows from personal experience exactly what that's like. in the romances (not just solas's), the inquisitor is able to find someone that knows and cares for them for who they are, not what they represent. this aspect of the inquisitor's arc is honestly why i like keeping the vallaslin. my lavellan wants people to be able to look at her as the inquisitor and see a dalish elf. it's one small act of defiance and in reclaiming her own narrative. so thinking about what she might want to do after her responsibilities to the inquisition are over, it's reasonable to think she might want to just go wherever solas goes? because she loves him and feels like herself around him. even her asking him to let her come with him in trespasser feels more motivated by the fact that lavellan sees solas isolating himself and closing himself off and she's sad about it because she cares about him. that was why she wanted to grow close to him in the first place.

and i genuinely don't think it's all that wild that lavellan still holds a torch for solas 10 years later. i personally was friends with this guy in high school i always had a crush on, and towards the end of senior year it looked like it could actually end up turning into something. but then he immediately left for a summer abroad after graduation and eventually moved out of the country full time for school. we kept in touch off and on and caught up when he was in town, but nothing romantic ever happened. for years after i would catch myself thinking every so often what could have been and what he was up to. for solavellan, they were actually together. they had mutually expressed feelings and though their time together was maybe a few months at most, it was intense and passionate. they split up not because anyone's feelings changed, but because of solas's baggage. it's really not unrealistic for lavellan to continue wondering to herself what would have happened if he had been honest with her sooner. if she could have convinced him to change course. and it's not like she has the luxury of retiring and just not thinking about him anymore. that's not a conscious manipulation on solas's part to string her along, that's just the reality of their situation.

and even with all that in mind, in dav lavellan is still able to have the self-awareness to understand that the good in him that she believes exists and all that they had together and what she meant to him could all just be wishful thinking on her part. that she's giving him the benefit of the doubt "imagining his broken heart" when he doesn't deserve it because it makes her feel less foolish. she's not blindly faithful to him. i just loved everything about that scene and every word out of my lavellan's mouth felt spot on and perfect for how i saw their relationship. i could not have been more relieved lol.

as for the ending, i really really dislike the bad faith read that the only thing that matters is mythal and that he somehow loves mythal more and if that weren't true then lavellan alone would be able to convince him to stop. varric says about solas that he wants to be a hero, but it's easier for him to play the villain because it means he didn't fail, everything bad he's done is a choice. once you've done one bad thing, betrayed one friend, manipulated and sacrificed some pawns, committed one lil genocide, etc. lmao, it becomes easier to do it again. you've already crossed your moral event horizon and now you just have to find an end that justifies the means of all your misdeeds. what i've said about solas before is that what's frustrating is that he does genuinely feel remorse about the shit he does, but he needs to believe it's necessary and he will keep doing it. he needs to believe it will all be worth it in the end. it's not that he thinks feeling sorry makes up for it necessarily, but that he had to do it. he had to be the one taking on all of the bad things to hopefully one day do a good thing and it will all work out.

(as a side note when solas says "i would not have you see what i become" in trespasser i always thought that meant he was going to resort to some awful corruptive magic or something but it turns out what he actually meant was "i'm about to be a real asshole and do some incredibly awful things and i don't want you to see that side of me" which is much sadder.)

so when rook says "you don't have to do this" solas counters with "i've betrayed and fucked over and killed so many people who trusted me and if i stop i will have done that for nothing." so then the inquisitor jumps in with "as one of those people, i'm telling you that you can stop." but then we get to the heart of it. he thinks he failed mythal when she died the first time and was unwilling to listen to her as flemeth. he needs to make that mean something. he needs to justify to himself what mythal made him into. so he needs to hear from his mythal, not morrigan's mythal who has the benefit of the wisdom and hindsight centuries of living among mortals gave her, but his mythal, the one closest to who she was when she died that what he is is broken. that she's the one that broke him and he alone doesn't have to bear the weight of everything he did because of her. it's not about loving her, it's about the specific relationship he had with her. with that baggage unpacked, he's not only able to let go of his prideful need to prove himself right by tearing down the veil, he's also free to choose what he always really wanted: lavellan.

and still! yet again! he does not ask or assume anything on her part. she offers! of her own free will. something that really rustles my jimmies about a lot of solavellan criticism is that people act like lavellan has no agency. that she couldn't possibly make the choices she does of her own accord and it has to be solas manipulating her. that has never rang true to me at all. she always made the first move. i think this more uncharitable read might unfortunately be encouraged by how many actual solavellan shippers play into the wolf/halla thing but i personally don't think that's the dynamic that weekes actually wrote. it is lavellan that pursues solas, not the other way around. and weekes was honestly so careful in how they wrote the romance so that when solas's identity and plans are revealed, it doesn't feel like he intentionally tricked you or took advantage. i actually really like the ambiguity of whether or not they slept together because to me it does feel like that's a line solas wouldn't cross, but i get why that doesn't matter as much to other solasmancers.

i also think there's this perception that solavellan is a ship with an unhealthy power dynamic that needs to be "fixed" in some way or at the very least apologized for before you're allowed to like it. for me it's honestly kind of the appeal? not that there's some goofy dom/sub thing going on lol but that in spite of how "superior" solas may or may not feel to lavellan and the modern elves, he still falls hook line and fucking sinker for her. lavellan has so much more power in the relationship than she realizes. she changes his entire perspective on modern elves and his ultimate goals so bad he had a complete crisis of faith and had to run as far away from her as he could. how could he have broken the world so badly he needs to catastrophically break it again to fix it if it could create someone like her? someone he wants and cares for so desperately? it's the push and pull of him trying to stay away but selfishly indulging as long as he can that's so juicy to me! it's so good and i just wish other people could see that, even if they don't care for the character.

anyways. i don't have a conclusion. i don't want anyone to think i'm vaguing about them. this is honestly the result of some thoughts that have been brewing for a while and a lot of common criticisms i've seen over the years. i didn't want to respond directly to anyone in particular bc i learned my lesson about not doing that waaay back in the shenko fandom iykyk lol. i just really like the ship! i think it's tragic and romantic and lovely and poetic and mythological and all that good stuff. it humanizes solas as a character and makes me think about empathy and compassion and how much faith you can have in someone if you love them. or how it might feel to sacrifice love for something you think you need to do, only to ultimately realize you never did and find that love patiently waiting for you to get your shit together. or to love someone and know they love you back and that they love you so much they had to leave or they would have given up everything they thought they needed for you and then to be able to actually get through to them and get them back. "she could save him if he'd only just let her"! it's a very niche wish fulfillment fantasy and it's me! i'm the fan being serviced!

#madelyn rambles #solavellan #veilguard spoilers #not sorry this is so long lol #i just have a lot of feelings!#and honestly i'm not trying to convert anyone #but while i do find it interesting to read less charitable reads on solas and solavellan #i think it's worth actually being able to communicate why the character and ship work for you #instead of just being antagonistic to someone with a different perspective #or sending them gore videos on twitter to harrass them apparently?#datwt's wild y'all don't even want to know

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