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galadae · 18 days ago

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delighted and beguiled

rating: Explicit pairing: calantha lenn/hien rijin words: 3.9k summary: calantha emerges victorious from her second Arcadion match and is instantly beset by another problem she didn't see coming. notes: vague spoilers for DT - place names and M2 mechanics mentioned ao3 link

Calantha’s steps are heavy as she pushes through the door to the locker room. A few other figures leave as she enters, their voices falling past her ears in a vague jumble of sound. She’d heard almost nothing Metem said to her after the match, either. His words faded to animated background noise behind the rosy fog in her head. She hopes it wasn’t important. I suppose I'll find out later.

A leaden ache settles in her legs as the adrenaline from the match starts to wear off. Her ribs and back are sore, but it's hard to tell if fatigue or bruises are the most to blame. A sharp sting shivers along her skin wherever she's bled in the fight. The acrid sweet-sour scent of venom lingers with the cloying scent of honey and citrus, tied with something a little more visceral she can't quite make out, dried on her sleeves and trousers.

Calantha sets her lance to one side, and goes to inspect the damage. She grits her teeth as she unzips the front of her battle torn jacket with bruise mottled fingers. It leaves her torso bare, except for her bra. Nothing serious. All the blood is dry. It looks worse than it is. An annoyance if anything. She could spend a few moments healing the worst of them, but she doesn’t see the point amidst the pink, heavy haze that's settled on her thoughts.

In the arena, survival kept her attention. The pheromones did little compared to the threat of injury or death. But in this room, the stark metal lockers, cold lamps and forlorn benches do nothing to stop sweet, heady fantasies from pulling at her mind. She leans her head against her locker, its surface cool on her face. Heat rises to her cheeks. It's not unusual for leftover adrenaline to excite her, but this is different. Suffocating. The room feels hotter by the second.

Her mind wanders like a lover’s hand winding down her back. Arms wrapping around her waist. Kisses on her bare shoulder between bruises. Up her neck, into her hair. Hands pressing her against the locker, grabbing her hips. Leaving marks on her skin from the tightness of their grip as they— She lets out an exasperated sigh. Since the match ended these thoughts have become a burning avalanche of desire, leaving a simmering hunger building in her abdomen. Her heart hammers. Damn pheromones. I just want to leave and go home...

Hien is here, somewhere. He’d seen the match, he would be close, still in the building– Gods, I hope he can find me, she thinks. It’s difficult to form any clear thoughts under the heavy gauze of her welling desire. She tries to open her locker, to find her things, but it seems pointless now. She hugs herself as another wave of illicit imaginings captures her attention. Her face flushes and a hot shiver runs down her spine. The need makes her dizzy and weak in the knees.

She slumps to the ground. If anyone comes in right now, perhaps I can say I'm drunk, she thinks. She covers her face with her hand. Perhaps it’s for the best that Hien isn't here. She wouldn’t be able to keep herself off him. Not when her thoughts won’t stop circling, calling to mind his body pressed against her, holding her down. Or his tongue on her clit, or his hips flush against hers as she rides him– Imagine the scandal. At least she can think of him here, in this empty room surrounded by cold tiles and electrope humming in the walls, with relative privacy. As long as no one else comes in. She shifts on the floor, subconsciously searching for friction, pressure— she groans. Fuck me. There’s no way I’m making it out of this room if I don’t deal with this.

Resigned, she leans her head back against the locker and sets her legs apart in front of her. Her hand tugs one side of her bra down to expose a taut nipple. She sweeps her thumb across it. The pure intensity of the sensation shocks her. It appears the pink haze has amplified the touch. She whimpers and bites her lip as the hunger grows, flickering into flame.

She repeats the motion. Her other hand falls to her waistband, fumbling with the fastening on her trousers, frantic to soothe the gnawing heat inside her. She slips her hand into her small clothes, down into her slick. She's so ridiculously wet, she almost wants to laugh.

She pushes her fingers into her swollen cunt and the motion sends another thrill through her. She hisses as she rubs the sensitive nub at her center, pushing and stroking till she starts to pant. The gnawing grows deeper, wider, more insatiable. Her hand is not enough, but it will have to do.

She shifts her hips. She wishes Hien was the one doing this to her. His hands strumming sweet pleasure, or his cock, tight inside her, as he rocks against her, breath ragged on her neck. She shuts her eyes. Despite their inadequacy, her fingers drive the blazing heat in her nerves, building the sensation. She moves faster. Relief is within reach, almost at her peak—

The door opens.

Calantha yelps. She bolts upright, snapping her knees together and pulling her free arm against her chest to hide her open jacket. The hazy desire still thrums inside her, screaming for her to finish what she started. She shoves it down, barely, heart hammering. Her eyes are glued on the doorway. She's not lucid enough to explain this to anyone, especially a stranger.

Hien steps into the room.

“Thank the fucking twelve,” she mutters, laying her head back against the locker.

He spots her on the floor and walks over, his footsteps loud in the empty room. The light is too low for her to read his face until he stands above her.

He'll understand. He can save me. She ducks her head, letting out a sigh of relief.

“There you are.” He grins. “I waited at the ring entrance, but you must have passed me by in the crowd. Why are you on the floor?”

She gives a breathless chuckle and swallows, trying to compose herself long enough to explain. She sits up and pulls one knee close to her chest. “Tired,” she mumbles.

As he squats down next to her, the dim light casts shadows on his face. He seems more striking than usual. Has he always been so...pretty? She reaches out to touch him.

Her lifted arm lets her jacket fall away. He raises an eyebrow at her state of almost undress, her one hand still an ilm inside her small clothes. “Help me,” Calantha says, her voice a desperate whisper. She clutches his arm and swallows again. She needs him on her, in her. She wants his fingers in her hair, her mouth, her cunt. She knows in return he'd let her devour him, take him with her mouth and her hands and her hips, leave him reveling and spent—

“What’s brought this on?” He kneels closer and brushes hair behind her ear, eyes a mixture of confusion, concern and amusement. He glances at her bruises. “Are you well?”

She leans into the touch and licks her lips, wondering how to explain. “Pheromones,” she says, weakly. “The arena... They were everywhere. I can't get them out of my head. I need to...” she trails off, distracted by the set of his shoulders, the ties on his jacket. She can only think of how she'd rather see them bare, her hands pressing into his chest as she—

Better to act than to explain. She sits forward and grabs him by the shoulders. One hand slips to the back of his neck as she kisses him, the other clutching the collar on his jacket.

If he expected a slow, tired kiss, hers is hungry, searching, her tongue seeking his. It almost surprises her. His breath catches and he recovers, laughing in surprise against her mouth. His hands clutch her waist to keep his balance. She nips at his lip. He grunts as her hand moves from his shoulder to his hair and she grips it, angling his head to deepen the kiss. He feels unfathomably good.

And it's not enough. His body heat beckons her. She breathes out a needy, quivering sigh and leans against him. His hands aren't where she wants them. Indignant, she grabs one and presses it to her hip. He squeezes it as she bends over him again. She catches another kiss, chasing his lips and tongue, until he's pressed to the floor beneath her.

For a moment she wonders if she should explain more. A thought which is instantly tossed away as his tongue meets hers. His hands grip her waist. He doesn't seem to have complaints. She feels light headed and breaks the kiss to catch her breath.

“Pheromones?” He asks, panting. He looks dazed but not opposed. He sits up, his face flushed.

“Mm,” she sighs. His lips curl into a smirk as she nips his ear. The need buzzes in her mind. She must have more of him. His beard tickles her nose as she leaves a love bite just below his jaw.

She grabs his chin to catch another kiss, and her jacket hangs open. One sleeve has slipped from her shoulder in the rush. Her dark bra peaks from beneath the zipper, one breast still exposed from her earlier attempt to soothe herself. A light sheen of sweat rests on her chest and neck. He breaks the kiss and leans back to look at her. She huffs in annoyance, trying to pull him close again. “Touch me. Please, Hien–”

“Now?” Hien eyes her, part keen hunger, part concern, gaze darting between her chest and the shallow cuts and bruises on her arms and torso. He brushes his hands over her stomach, inspecting it. The motion threatens to make her dizzy. “Should you not find a healer? We must see to what pains you.”

It's all she can do not to push him down again, straddling him, his hands clutching her thighs, his lips on her chest, his—

She shakes her head and scowls, trying to focus. “Wh-what pains me?” She stutters. “I'm fine.” His scent is no different than usual, just his soap, leather, perhaps a hint of sweat. It almost drives her mad. Her voice is a low, grating whisper. “Please, Hien. It’s unbearable.”

He glances toward the door as his thumbs trace beneath her bra. “Here? Are you sure? The door does not appear to lock.” He turns back to her, leaning his head against her shoulder. “If anyone comes in…” he pauses and she takes his hand, kissing it. She closes her eyes as he brushes his finger along her lip, into her mouth. “Perhaps we should go elsewhere.”

Despite his words, his eyes shine with both want and mischief. She sighs as he traces his hand back down to uncover her other breast. It seems he's affected too, the leftover scent of pheromones in her clothes and hair driving him to desire.

It's for the best. Probably. Now that he's here her thoughts are unchecked. Her need consumes her mind, almost painful, a throbbing, driving heat.

“I swear on all the gods I've ever fought. Just fuck me," she growls. “Now.”

“If you insist.” He grins and kisses her, his tongue darting into her mouth. He sucks on her lip, giving a small chuckle as she moans.

“Why are you laughing?” she says. “I'm miserable.” She gasps as he pinches her nipple, sending a euphoric jolt to her core.

He leans against her until she's the one pressed against the floor. The tiles are a wash of cool on her skin that only heighten the warmth of each touch. He kneels between her knees, kissing her neck. Her heart flutters with anticipation.

Hien leans over her to leave a long, heated kiss above her collarbone, marking her, before he moves down her sternum. She grips the waistband of his trousers. She can feel his erection pressing against her as she fumbles with the ties. He takes her skin between his teeth, the salt on his tongue, and leaves a sharp, heated nip on the swell of her breast. She slips her hand into his pants and finds his cock, sliding her fingers down the length. Her other arm grips his shoulders. He sighs at her touch, taking the silver ring in her taut nipple between his teeth, and gives a gentle tug. She hisses and leans into him until she's between his lips. He flicks his tongue over the ring as his other hand moves to cup her. Outside of her small clothes, to her annoyance.

She shifts her hips, body twisting against his hand. “Hurry,” she whispers.

He leaves more heated nips and marks up her neck. “I said hurry,” she whines. She draws her hand from his trousers to clutch his arm.

“Forgive me, my love,” he says, “if my actions only serve to make you more flustered.”

“Flustered? I'm beyond flustered, you–” He kisses her lips, cutting her off. She huffs in indignation and he grins again. Her small clothes are still in the way of his hand.

“What are you waiting for?” she snaps. “If you don't hurry up I'll do it myself!”

“At once,” he says, a smile still on his lips. He gives her another small kiss before he slips his fingers beneath her underwear, dipping them into her silken heat. She groans and tilts her hips in response, searching for firmer pressure in his hand. He slides his fingers around the swollen nub of her clit, slow at first, circling, teasing. Calantha wraps her leg around him. His hand feels better than her own, but it's not enough. She squirms against him.

“More," she says, her voice thick with need. “Hien. Please.” He nods, slipping another finger inside her, pressing deeper. She whimpers, sharp and desperate. “Please,” she pleads again. Her hips buck and her other hand holds his forearm, trying to push him faster. He leans into her, holding her against him. He makes his strokes faster and firmer, her slick coating his fingers. He bends to kiss her breast, taking a ring between his lips again. Her eyes flicker closed. He holds her softly between his teeth and sweeps his tongue over her.

White hot pleasure bolts through her. Calantha loses herself to him, tilting her head back as her panting reaches a crescendo. In a rush she comes undone, a breathless, desperate mess of cries, curses and whines bursting from her mouth. He strokes through the waves until he can no longer feel her pulse against his fingers.

Her head falls back against the floor, eyes closed, chest heaving. Her hair is mussed, half fallen from her ponytail. Her cheeks are hot, and she can feel sweat beading around her forehead. She has a moment’s relief, at least. Hien kisses her jaw, taking his hand from between her thighs to rest at her waist. The slickness leaves a shine on her stomach. “Better?” he says, his voice low. He leans his head against her neck.

As soon as he moves, the need coils inside her again. Hungry for another course. “No,” she groans. “It's not. I need–Hien–” She stammers and brushes his waistband, slipping her hand inside once more. She's pleased to find him harder than before, moisture budding on his cock. She rubs the tip with her thumb and kisses him. He moans softly into her mouth.

She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can start he nods and tosses his jacket to the floor. They both stand to fling off whatever clothes are most in the way. After a few seconds of frantic fumbling, she's gotten her own trousers off and pulled his below his hips. She's grateful he's wearing less layers than his usual fare at home. Much faster to remove.

“Where do you want me?”

She doesn't answer but pushes him back towards one of the wide benches in the room behind him. She knows he would like to draw this out, leaving kisses and marks on her thighs, but her urgency leaves no room for tenderness.

Calantha wastes no time crawling over him to straddle his hips. His breath is a heated prayer on her neck as she slides onto him. She revels in how he feels against her, inside her, bracing herself against the back of the bench. Hien clutches her hips as she moves, his eyes closed. He leans his face against her breasts and kisses her. She sighs as his tongue, teeth and the light rasp of his beard on her sternum send another shiver through her. His one hand grips her butt and the other clutches her thigh as she holds his head against her, hand in his hair. Her breath comes in little moans. She quickens her movements and her thighs tense with the effort. He sighs into her collarbone, fingertips digging into her thigh. He pulls her hip. As sensitive as this damned haze has made her, the motion is enough to make her break. Once more she lets herself go, consumed by each amplified touch. Her voice rings off the walls. She couldn't care less.

And the hunger is still there. She groans.

Hien notes her desperation. “Cala–” he pants. “I–let me–” he puts a hand to her chest. “Up,” he stammers.

She crawls off of him and he stands, chest heaving. His cock glistens with her slick. She stares greedily.

He steps away and pulls her in before he all but slams her back against the locker in his haste. The cold metal is a shock against her back and butt, sending a shiver down her spine. He puts an arm under her knee and pulls her leg up to his shoulder. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips as he presses into her again.

Calantha whimpers as he moves his hips against her. “Come on,” she says. She bends her knee, pulling him closer, trapping him against her. He thrusts into her and his eyes flutter closed.

She grips his shoulders, hands in his hair once more. She's already close. His breath comes in pants and ragged moans. She lets out a sharp sigh as heat and pressure and pleasure pulse inside her. Hien pushes against her, his breath hot on her chest.

She cries out as she comes again. Her legs shake. She squirms as he presses himself deeper. Her hands clutch his hair, her nails leave marks in his shoulders and back as her cries fade to whimpers. She leans over him, breathing his name into his hair as the waves of her own pleasure caress him. His hands are a vice on her hip and thigh until he comes with a grunt and a hoarse cry of his own, spilling hot inside of her.

They stay in a shaky, breathless slump against the lockers, until they both wordlessly sink to the floor.

Hien reaches for her. He wraps an arm around her back. His fingers touch her cheek. “How do you fare?” he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek.

She flops her head onto his chest, resting till her breath calms. The hunger is still there. Almost sated, but not quite. She shakes her head.

He shifts to cradle her on his lap, her long legs resting far over his own on the floor. “Are you not tired?”

Her muscles feel more sore than ever, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, the dull ache returning. And yet the want is all she can think of. She meets his eyes, almost bashful. “If–if you want a rest, I can manage,” she says.

Hien slides his hand to her hip. “No need.”

She's raw and sensitive, still full of his spend, but the hunger remains. He finds her clit and leaves smooth, lingering strokes. She rests back against him. The desperate urgency gives way to a low, drowsy desire. He nuzzles behind her ear and she relaxes, savoring the slow brush of his fingers.

The sensations are no longer stark and electric with each touch but sweet, gentle waves, caressing her, building at a slow, steady pace. It doesn't take long for her to let go with a soft whine as she comes once more.

For a moment she's adrift in a daze of fatigue and warmth, pleasure and pain as all the aches come rushing back. But the hunger is gone, for now. Finally. She turns to kiss him.

He kisses her cheek. “Any better?” He asks again. His eyes are filled with concern more than anything.

Calantha nods and hums. She leans her head against his. Now that the haze has broken she feels grimy, sweaty. Worn out and exhausted. She hadn't realized her throat was so dry.

A sinking mortification fills her mind as she registers how easily they could have been seen. She would never have insisted on doing this here without the intoxicating haze. She covers her face with one hand.

As if reading her thoughts Hien casts his eyes around the room, noting their scattered clothes. “Perhaps we should take our leave before we are discovered.”

“Yes. Let’s go. Quickly.”

They tidy themselves and their things as best they can and slip out into the main lobby. Calantha has little business in Solution 9 until the next match. Within half a bell they’re back in Tulliyollal, the aethernet shard near the For’ard Cabins humming as they make their way to their shared quarters.

Calantha puts her arm around his shoulders as they walk. “That was worse than any of my other wounds today. I would have died if anyone but you had shown up, if only from embarrassment.”

“Died?” His laughter rings out in the night air across the walkway. “I'm glad my timing was apt. Let us hope our next such encounter will not be quite as dire, or likely to be discovered. Even if you seemed to enjoy it. Unless, of course, my eyes and ears deceived me.”

She sighs. “Oh hush. I was desperate enough to risk it. But it won't happen again.”

She stretches her arms above her head, dreaming of a bath to clean herself and soothe her aching muscles. Her stomach growls.

“Are you hungry?” she asks as they reach the door. “I’ve certainly worked up an appetite. Shall we go for food after we clean up?” She stops, breathing in the scent of meats, herbs and spices on the warm beach breeze. She tilts her head, glancing towards the shore. She can smell something else she hasn't noticed before, not in Tulliyollal. It's sweet, pleasant, but visceral—

Her eyes widen. It's the cloying scent of honey, half masked by everything else, still stuck in her nose. Her relief fades as the realization hits her. The haze returns in a rush so potent she has to grip the door frame to steady herself. Hien’s voice passes over her, something about drinks and celebrating her victory. She hears almost nothing. She leans her head against the door.

Hien looks up as she slumps forward, brow furrowed. “Are you alright?” He puts his hand on the small of her back. It sends an unexpected, delighted shiver through her as she remembers his hands on her earlier.

“Gods damn it,” she mutters. “Let’s just get inside.”

#ffxiv #hannah words #calantha/hien #oc: calantha lenn #dawntrail spoilers #arcadion spoilers #ugh i've been staring at this too long!!! happy sinday i guess asldkfjhasdkfj #you're welcome or i'm sorry idk #honey b lovely pheromones forced me to write this. i had no choice #also idk what happened but this fic is em dash central. lmao

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