#oopsididathing

[the-dork-urge]

Zevlor x Reader || A Good Man || Part 2

Read Part 1

SUMMARY: In which Tav and Zevlor take their first step into a much deeper connection, momentarily forgetting the worries of tommorow.

PAIRING: Zevlor x female Tav

WORD COUNT: 3198 Thanks to @cryppticcaveart & @rookieeyes for helping me out with this one!

NSFW and fluff

As they broke away from the kiss, he caught himself smiling, the warmth of her lips still lingering against his. And her smile mirrored his own, awkward, but mostly relieved. He had envisioned kissing her dozens of times, yet no moment seemed as ripe as this one. Perhaps missed opportunities, or perhaps just fuel for his desire. His cheeks flushed with heat, and he took a hesitant step back, needing some space to gather his thoughts.  "Excuse me," Zevlor stammered, his voice laced with uncertainty, "I am not quite used to this. To you, like this. Us. Right here." He felt like a youth again, all nerves, shakes, and rambles, despite his years of command and experience as a Hellrider. There was something about this that made him feel so bare, like stepping into battle without any armor.

"Let us get away," she whispered, sensing his unease. "Where to?" he asked, curiosity mingling with his nervousness. ''won't they miss you?'' ‘’They’ll be fine without me.'' She reached out her hand, waiting expectantly, "I know a spot in the forest.'' He took her hand; but within his grasp, they felt fragile, delicate even. For so long, he had held nothing more than a sword. Yet she knew her hands were lethal in their way. As they ventured into the forest, the air grew cooler, the din of the camp fading into the background until all that remained was the hushed whisper of leaves overhead. Beams of moonlight pierced through the dense canopy, casting scattered patterns on the forest floor. "Isn't it beautiful here?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the tranquil peace surrounding them.

Zevlor felt the tension that had gripped him begin to wane, replaced by a quiet sense of calm that settled over him like a comforting blanket.

"It's… peaceful," he admitted, his gaze wandering between the sight in front of him, and stealing glances as she looked around the spot with a content smile.

"I come here sometimes when the camp gets to be too much," she confessed, her voice soft and earnest. "It's like my own little refuge, a place to clear my mind and find some peace."

Zevlor listened intently, captivated by the sincerity in her words. "I can see why," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips now. "It's easy to forget about everything else when you're surrounded by such beauty." She glanced at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She settled onto the grassy forest floor, patting the ground beside her. "I'd been meaning to bring you here sooner," she confessed, meeting his gaze. "To get you out of that cold cave in the Grove. To find some peace of mind. Some clarity." He settled onto the forest floor beside her, their shoulders brushing lightly as they sat side by side, gazing out into the tranquil night. For a while, they simply enjoyed each other's company in comfortable silence. But as the moments stretched on, Zevlor found himself drawn to her, unable to let his gaze wander away from her, captivated by the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them. With all his bravery mustered, he reached out, his hand finding hers again, their fingers intertwining. She smiled at the gesture before allowing herself to fall back onto the grass fully, pulling him down with her. They lay there together, staring up at the canopy of leaves above.

"It wasn't bad at all," she began softly, "us stretching into midnight, planning and talking in the cave."

"It wasn’t?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. He recalled her shivering as they stood over the table, examining plans and battle maps, discussing tactics, and occasionally delving into matters beyond their duties. He had tried to warm her up by sharing the leftover bottles of booze, attempting to inch closer without it being awkward. His skin was warmer than hers, his devilish blood emitting a comfortable heat. For a while, he had believed he was subtle in his actions. However, upon reflection, he realized she must have noticed his attentiveness; nothing seemed to escape her keen observation. He knew she was perceptive to every gesture and nuance he displayed. "It's been good to work with you, to hear your story, and to get to know you."

He felt his heart skip a beat. These past weeks, how awful they had been, she had been a silver lining. And how honored he was to get to know her.. "You've been the most stimulating presence I've had in a long time," he admitted, turning away in embarrassment. "And you've been wonderful to my people when you could have easily decided not to be." "I'm glad to have helped," she said, and even though he wasn't looking at her anymore, he could envision her smiling at his words. And her lips. For the first time in a while, he longed for something beyond the burdens of leadership and the march towards Baldur's Gate. He longed for her. He craved the warmth of her touch, the comfort of her presence, and the hope for something more between them in the future. However, as they lay there together, enveloped by the tranquil embrace of the forest, the moment seemed almost surreal. And thoughts started to overwhelm his mind. Would she discover a cure for the parasite afflicting her brain? And what of the uncertain path stretching out before both of them? Would she stand by his side, a beacon of light to guide him through their journey? Or would he wander those lands alone with his people, clinging only to the memory of this fleeting night for solace?

He clung to this moment with a firmness matched only by the way he held her hand as if anchoring her to the present where their togetherness was an undeniable certainty. Turning to meet her gaze, he found her eyes already fixed on him, a flicker of sadness mingling with the hope that illuminated her smile. As she squeezed his hand in return, a sense of reassurance washed over him.

"I don’t know what tomorrow will bring," she confessed, as if able to read his mind, "And that frightens me more than I care to admit."

"I'm afraid too," he admitted softly.

Shifting onto her side, she nestled her face against his chest, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns while the rhythmic thumping of his heart filled the space around them. "But," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody against his skin, "we've both faced countless dangers and yet here we are, our hearts still beating." She pressed her hand against his chest, teasing him with a grin. "I feel like it’s going to jump out of your chest," her fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt. He cleared his throat, unable to suppress the eagerness pulsating within his chest. Then, she took his hand and pressed it against her chest, his palm meeting the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Pounding just as loudly as his own. With one hand, she caressed his cheek, fingers sliding softly over his ridges and scars, and moved his face towards her. Eye to eye, lips almost touching.

‘’I want to be with you tonight, Zevlor,’’ she spoke, her lips grazing his, ‘’especially amidst all this uncertainty. But only if you’ll have me.’’

His chest tightened at the sudden invitation. The idea of exploring her fully, seeing every nuance of her physical being laid bare, stirred a longing in him. Without a doubt, he desired her. The idea of tracing her bare skin, fulfilling the visions he had harbored since their first evening in the grove, ignited a fiery sensation throughout his entire being.

Yet, the prospect of unveiling himself in the same way sent shivers down his spine. The memory of his last intimate encounter haunted him, a distant echo of a time when his body was stronger, his spirit unbroken.  Would she still desire him, he pondered, once she beheld the extent of his scars and weathered appearance? Could the stark contrast against the canvas of her youth prompt her to recoil at the sight of his devilish, battered form – a body worn by years of strife and conflict?

With a deep breath, he reached out to her, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. Aware that if he allowed fear to rule this moment, as it had ruled him for far too long, he risked missing out on something beautiful. So he took a leap of faith, placing his trust in the connection they shared, in her kindness, patience, and good soul. Suddenly, the walls he had built around his heart began to crumble, the armor he had carefully donned falling away piece by piece.

"I want you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "More than anything. But know that I am not without my flaws, my scars. And if you still want me, despite all of that… then I am yours." His heart hammered in his chest as he awaited her response, every beat echoing the uncertainty and vulnerability he felt at that moment.

She kissed him suddenly, this time with unwavering intensity, different from their first. Their lips intertwined as if sealing a promise. Her hands gracefully glided to his neck, drawing him closer into the kiss. Zevlor released a breath, feeling as if she had stolen the air from his lungs. He gasped into the sudden kiss, his hands instinctively finding their way down her body, tracing the curves of her figure until they settled firmly on her hips. "I desire you, Zevlor," she affirmed, pulling back slightly, her voice steady and sure, her hands still delicately resting on his neck. "Not despite your scars, but because of them."

These words, coupled with the rising heat in his body, momentarily banished all doubts that had previously plagued his mind. There was only her now, right in front of him.

His hands, still nestled on her hips, gently curled around the fabric of her shirt. With meticulous care, he lifted her shirt, his nails teasingly close to her skin. She cooperated by raising her arms, allowing him to strip the fabric from her. Taking her shirt from his hands, she casually flung it over her shoulder before shifting her focus to his shirt.

He tried to unwind, fixating on her beauty as she undressed him. Her hands caressed the muscles of his stomach before gliding up his bare chest.

"You're even more handsome than I imagined," she murmured, a faint blush tinting her cheeks, accompanied by goosebumps from the cool forest air. All he heard was sincerity, absent of lies or pity. Handsome, he mused. Typically a term reserved for younger men like Dammon or Rolan, not for someone of his age. Yet, he accepted it wholeheartedly because it came from her.

She gently pushed him back by his chest, settling on top of him as his back met the ground once more. The grass and branches pricked his skin, but the sensation was nothing compared to the weight of her on him.

Seated on his thighs, she began to work on the laces of his pants. The grace that she always exuded slowly faded, replaced by impatience and eagerness. He assisted by lifting his hips slightly as she slid his pants down.

His arousal pulsed beneath the delicate fabric of his undergarments. As she began to remove them, pausing to savor the anticipation, he swiftly stopped her progress. Redirecting her hands to her sides, he took the lead, reaching for the straps of her bra. With a practiced touch, he slid them off her shoulders while she dealt with the clasps at the back. The bra dropped between them, but his attention remained fixated on her exposed chest, where the firm buds reacted to the cool air.

"Gods," he murmured, extending his hands to touch her breasts. His hands cupped them tenderly, his thumbs exploring the firmness of her nipples. A soft exhale escaped her lips as she felt the warmth of his hands, the goosebumps on her skin gradually yielding under his caress.

He noticed her pressing her legs together over his thighs, a subtle attempt to suppress the shiver running down her spine. Her hands moved to his hair, fingers gently grazing his horns as she undid the tie that held his hair in place, letting the long strands cascade freely over his face.

"Wow," she spoke, her voice filled with awe. Gently, he shifted his weight, rolling them over so that she lay beneath him, her soft curves pressing against his body. Their lips met in a fervent kiss, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between them. His hands roamed over her skin, tracing every curve and dip with reverence and hunger. She responded eagerly, her body arching into his touch, her hands roaming over his back and shoulders, pulling him closer.  

Their heated embrace intensified as his covered arousal nestled between her legs, pulsating against her warmth. With a mischievous smile, she teased him through the fabric, her hands eliciting shivers of pleasure along his length. Fueled by desire, he hastily pulled down her underwear, eager to explore every inch of her exposed form. As his fingers ventured between her folds, he felt the slickness of her arousal coating his touch. Despite the sharpness of his nails against her delicate skin, she paid it no mind, her focus consumed by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

With bated breath, she guided his hand to where her desire burned the hottest. Yielding to her silent plea, he delicately slid a finger inside, drawing a sharp gasp of pleasure from her lips.

His movements inside her were deliberate, setting a slow and steady rhythm, relishing in the sensation of her increasing slickness. The sweet symphony of her gasps mingled with the sound of his finger moving in and out. Feeling his arousal throb almost painfully, he momentarily released it from its confines, stroking it agonizingly slowly. Before she could voice her protest at the loss of his touch, he returned to her most sensitive spot, this time with the warm, wet touch of his mouth.

 As he lavished his attention on her, she writhed beneath him, her hands clutching at the grass underneath. Her breath came in ragged gasps.With each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, she felt herself spiraling higher and higher. Her hips rose to meet his mouth, a silent invitation for more. Sensing her mounting pleasure, he intensified his efforts, his desire mounting with each whimper and shudder that escaped her lips. With a newfound urgency, he pumped his cock harder in his hand, feeling the slickness of precum dripping from its tip, as he tasted her. Her hands were now entangled in the back of his head, slightly tugging at his hair. As he looked up at her, pausing his desires she spoke. "Now you," her bare chest rising and falling, "I'd want to taste you too." Zevlor did not protest, not for a second. To feel her mouth on him, it made his cock stand upright. She crawled over to him, nuzzling her face over his thighs, her hands trailing further along. She took his length in her hands, dragging her thumb over the bead of precum that had formed. She placed that same thumb in her mouth, dragging it over her tongue as she made eye contact with him. It made his whole body shudder, before he moved his hands to the back of her neck, gently guiding her further between his legs. As she lowered her head, her warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, anticipation pulsed through him. She teased him with delicate kisses along the length of his shaft, sending waves of pleasure rippling through his body. When her tongue finally met his throbbing length, a wave of pleasure washed over him, eliciting a low moan from his lips. His fingers tightened in her hair as she traced circles around the tip, exploring every inch with a deliberate and tantalizing pace As her lips closed around him, an exquisite rush of pleasure, unlike anything he had ever experienced, washed over him. The noises she drew from his lips, encouraged her to take him deeper: to envelop him completely in her embrace.

She eagerly bobbed her head up and down, unabashedly devouring him. His groans echoed beneath her touch, his legs shuddering beneath her skilled ministrations.

Sensing the telltale twitch beneath her, she raised her head, her lips plump and wet from taking him. It was enough to push him to the brink, but he exercised restraint.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, her face inching towards his, her wet lips grazing the skin near his ear.

"Better than ever," he replied instinctively, drawing her whole body closer. Her wet thighs settled over his, their heat mingling. His upright member was now mere inches away from her entrance.

"Good," she hummed in his ears as she slid her hands between their thighs. He watched as her hands traveled back to his cock. She teased his member at her entrance, brushing it against her fold as it twitched and throbbed, awaiting permission. "Make love to me," she breathed, pushing her thighs slightly upward, just hovering above. His hips involuntarily moved upward, his tip brushing against her heat. ‘ "Gods, I will," he breathed out as she slowly sank onto him. Despite their wetness, it took her a moment to adjust. The sensation of her tight walls around him as she slowly rolled her hips was overwhelming. She moaned against his ears as she took him deeper, every movement magnetized as he filled her out. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to her moans and the soft whimpers that escaped his lips. It was a symphony of desire, and he vowed to remember every note. Yet, he needed more, more sweet tones, to replay in his head after this was all over. Gripping her hips firmly, he dug his nails into her curves as he guided her hips to move up and down, slowly changing her rolling motion into a bounce. Her breasts bounced in rhythm as he held his cock in one hand, keeping it aligned with her dripping wetness.

Arching her neck backward, pleasure overwhelmed her, and her warmth pulsated around him. Both consumed by the yearning for release, they accelerated their pace, the intensity building with each passionate thrust.

His climax arrived suddenly and with intensity, his release loud as he groaned her name. He clung to her shuddering form as she came undone in his arms. And together, in that moment, everything felt right.