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To say "It's been a day." would be a rather grave understatement. Even the slightly more precise description of "a rough day" still does not quite cut it, in your very humble and very exhausted opinion.
There were other words you'd use to describe a day filled with aetherial sickness, anxious merchants and trying to sell fish to unwilling customers. The latter has actually been the worst thing of the three, you'd rather take the dizziness and nausea after being ripped through the lifestream unattuned than pitching a sale any day.
You are a horrible saleswoman, as it turned out.
Still, you had found what you were looking for: enough information on how to proceed. Matsya had told you about The Great Work and by now, it was clear that this was the place to go if you were to make significant progress on taking care of the Telophoroi once and for all.
Your group had split up in the late afternoon, agreeing to meet at the small inn later to share more findings and to settle for the night. The day had been eventful enough and you'd head out early the next day after a proper meal and a good night's sleep. Even with the threat of another possibly cataclysmic event looming on the horizon, food and a certain amount of rest were detrimental to the success of an undertaking as big as this.
The sun is beginning to set already when you cross the small marketplace that separates the harbor from the residential district, spilling its golden light through the colorful streets of Yedlihmad. Ready for dinner and a nice soak in the tub, you pass the myriad of tents and tables where merchants have tried to peddle their wares all day long. Desperately and in vain. At least when considering their dejected faces. The dull hopelessness clouding all those eyes once vibrant with life.
You felt rather horrible passing them, a stranger among the merchants and a potential customer with a potentially heavy coin purse. And it feels even worse when you leave them behind without a single purchase, unable to alleviate any of their worries.
But you will be able to, hopefully, soon.
The Inn you decided to spend the night in is close to the marketplace. Just a few corners here and a narrow street there and you would all but stumble across the brightly painted building. But right before you manage to leave the area, one of the merchants steps in your path with a flourish, colorful skirts rustling, effectively blocking your path. You want to excuse yourself and make your way past her, but the small hyuran woman gives you a radiant smile, her beautiful face lighting up and her vivid green eyes grabbing your attention in an instant.
"You look hungry, dear" she says with a wide smile on her delicately painted lips and as if on command, your stomach growls like an unhappy aurochs. At that she laughs, bright and tinkling like the sound of little bells and the jewelry around her wrists almost chimes when she claps delightedly.
You try and hide your growing embarrassment and be on your way, but the woman holds up a finger and swipes something off the table of her stall.
"Would you care for some fruit? They are going to be bad tomorrow and I'd hate to throw them away." She holds up a small basket, filled with a handful of what looked like Rolanberries dipped in chocolate. You look at her small stall, almost devoid of any wares and you are already prepared to deny, a polite smile on your lips and hands raised.
Tataru would have your head if you spent money on a possibly very overpriced snack. You still don't know how you would explain Estinien's 10.000 Gil hair tie, so something as indulgent as Rolanberries dipped in chocolate was out of the question. Even if they looked absolutely delectable, dark and light chocolate covering the juicy fruits, thick and shiny with the promise of sweetness and indulgence.
Still, you like your head just where it is, thank you very much and you would not want to stir the ire of the small lalafellin woman.
"Don't worry, love, they are free of charge," the woman says as if she had just read your thoughts. She gives you a mischievous wink, "you really look like you could use some proper unwinding, I'll make an exception just for you."
Well… If she was offering the berries, basically throwing them straight at you? Who were you to refuse? Apart from that there was no fight left in you. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, struggling to find an excuse to keep denying the delectable treat, but your stomach growling once more and your sweet tooth already raging like an angry Coeurl.
"I won't accept no for an answer," the woman insists, again, all but forcing the little basket into your hands. Still, she looks quite pleased when you take it.
"Thank you," you finally manage to say, almost feeling a little harassed when she won't let go of your hands. "Really, I need to go."
"Don't enjoy them all by yourself," you hear her calling while you hastily make your way across the last stretch of the marketplace. "A treat like this wants to be shared!"
You can't hide the amused little smile that spreads across your lips and you are only a little weirded out by this strange interaction. You definitely had weirder. But you finally manage to step into the street where your inn is located, three very familiar figures standing by the entrance, waiting for you.
"Finally," Thancred says in lieu of a greeting, the first to see you approach. He has his arms crossed, his foot is tapping impatiently on the sandy dirt path. "What took you so long?"
You gesture to the berries in your hand. "I was coerced to take these with me."
"I hope you didn't pay half a fortune for these," Thancred says with a raised brow. "We are already tight on funds after a certain someone bought himself an overpriced hairtie." He sends Estinien a badly concealed and very judgemental look, which the silent Elezen promptly ignores.
"Don't worry," you grin, popping one of the berries into your mouth, "they were free."
And delicious! The chocolate is rich, creamy and sweet, the berries, unlike the Rolanberries you know, an almost aggressive magenta in colour, a little tart and sour, a beautiful contrast to the sweetness of the chocolate. They are so scrumptiously good your eyes flutter close for a moment, a content sigh leaving your lips and you feel warmth spreading through your whole body the moment the flavour hits your tongue.
Someone clears their throat. You ignore them.
"Free? Art thee sure those fruits art safe," Urianger asks with a wary look on your treats and a raised eyebrow.
You finally open your eyes again, pointedly look at him and eat another one, for emphasis. Urianger tuts, crosses his arms and shakes his head, clearly disapproving. You can't find yourself to care much. "I hadst to learneth the hard way during mine own time with the pixies, that nothing is ever truly free."
You click your tongue. "Come on, I got them from the marketplace, from a nice lady, what's the worst that can happen? Food poisoning? I've had much worse."
Thancred sighs, long and suffering. "Fine," he says, looking tired and a little sunburnt, "we will leave for The Great Works early tomorrow morning, no matter what. And if you start shitting yourself because of some ridiculous fruit, you're on your own."
You give him a small salute. "Got it."
Estinien observes the exchange silently, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and face neutral, as he always did.
Sweat trickles down your spine, makes you shiver.
"I really need a bath," you announce, "and a good dinner."
"Agreed," Thancred says, heading for the door, "let's meet back down here in a bell. We'll go over tomorrow's plan again."
🍓🍓🍓
You start feeling a little weird when you step out of the tub. Hot all over and tingly and just a little dizzy. It's not at all unpleasant, just a little distracting. The sun is now setting in a myriad of oranges and reds and pinks, bathing your chamber into an almost surreal light.
Maybe the bath was a little too hot?
No that can't be. The water was pleasant in temperature when you stepped in, perfect, considering the hot and balmy thavnairian air of the early evening. Or maybe devouring all the berries on an empty stomach wasn't that great of an idea after all. Too much chocolate tends to do that to you and considering you were ravenous when you arrived, you had devoured them in a matter of moments as soon as you stepped into your assigned room.
It's probably exhaustion. A physically taxing day and yet another threat to the world to thwart put a toll on everybody, even the famed Warrior of Light. Or Darkness. Depending on who you asked. Plus the climate didn't at all agree with you, not even mentioning how your trip through the aether had left a sinking hole in your stomach.
The woman at the market place was right, you really needed some unwinding. And of course a little treat.
You didn't manage to shake the feeling, though, even after having a glass of water from the pitcher in your room. Quite the contrary. The heat did not want to dissipate and your skin feels strangely sensitive.
You get dressed in a draped shirt of light and airy fabric, soft pants and leather boots, your usual combat gear and weapon put aside. But what usually feels more than comfortable suddenly borders on tight and constricting, the soft fabric of your top scratchy on your overly sensitive skin.
Strange.
A look in the mirror to tame your wet hair shows you rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, making you look almost a little feverish. You also see your nipples through your shirt, unusually hard underneath the soft fabric.
You shake your head. It's been a while since you had the opportunity to lay with someone properly, but being this desperate? No. It probably is exhaustion. And hunger. And not to forget the stress.
"Get a grip of yourself," you mumble, try to press your nipples into submission.
Yes. A hearty meal and a good rest would do the trick. Maybe a nice little game with your own fingers after and you'll be as good as new.
You make it down to dinner just fine, the other three already waiting for you, Thancred and Estinien without their armour and bathed as well, looking a lot more content and relaxed than outside in the sweltering heat.
The conversation is easy and the food is good, but you, you are definitely not.
As dinner progresses, you continue to feel worse. Rapidly.
Heat is pooling low in your stomach, makes you sweat, makes you dizzy, makes everything stick to your body uncomfortably. You can barely keep up with what the others are talking about, fail to laugh at a stupid joke Thancred cracks, when crossing your legs under the table almost makes you groan.
You want to claw at your skin, rip off your clothes, an itch encasing your whole body that's in desperate need of scratching. A lot of scratching. You try to focus your mind on something other than your spinning thoughts and the uncomfortable wetness collecting in your undergarments, the sensation distracting and almost a little…
…alluring?
Estinien sits right across you, wearing a light blue shirt that's only buttoned halfway, bronze skin right on display and you can't help but stare. It's new, you haven't seen him wear it yet. It looks good. Fantastic. If he asked you you'd have told him to button it up even less. Or forego the shirt completely.
His skin is a little wet where his still damp hair touches his clavicles and the skin shimmers wetly in the light of the tavern.
You want to touch him. His skin looks positively velvety and the soft muscles of his chest leave just enough room for your imagination to run havoc. You want to run your fingers across his chest, his neck, through his hair, across his lips, own to-
Suddenly, there is a gentle hand on your arm, cool and pleasant and you almost groan at the sensation of skin on skin. Urianger looks at you, honest concern in his eyes, says your name.
"Art thou unwell?"
You shake your head, no, you are fine, is what you want to say, but you can't. The feeling of Urianger's hand still on your bare arm has you spiraling and you're afraid you'll let out a garbled moan as soon as you open your mouth.
By the Twelve, what is going on?
"Maybe those berries really were bad," Thancred jokes, tries to hide the obvious worry in his eyes behind a very bad joke.
"F-fuck you," you say, try a grin, but it feels pained. You don't manage to continue eating. The food is delicious and you almost weep, but you are barely able to stand the texture of the deliciously grilled meat on your tongue, the fresh vegetables and the spicy sauces.
It's too much. Everything is too much. The noise around you, the smell of food and people, mixing in a dangerous potpourri. Your own skin, feeling too tight, too hot, too sticky. Just like the space between your legs, by the Twelve...
And Estinien's skin is still way too distracting.
You stare, hope no one notices. His lips move when he talks to Thancred, says something to Urianger. You watch him take a piece of bread, rip it apart with his slender and elegant fingers, rough from using a lance most of his life.
You wonder what those fingers would feel like on your sweat slicked skin, wrapped around your throat, his lips on your ear, whispering, filthy, flithy things while he pounds into you and-
You stand up abruptly, almost sending your chair flying and the three men look at you in surprise, conversation coming to a halt in an instant. You have to leave, now. Or you couldn't guarantee what you would do next.
"I- excuse me, I really have to… I'm going to bed, I'm tired."
Someone says your name, but you ignore them, turn on your heel and bolt. It's too much. You're too hot and dizzy and with your senses heightened like this, everything is too loud and too bright and way too fragrant.
When you make it to your room, you lean against the door, breathing hard, sweating even more, if that's even possible.
"Fuck, what is this," you groan, toeing off your boots, getting rid of every single piece of clothing until you sit on the ground absolutely naked. Apart from not being able to tolerate anything on your overly sensitive skin, you are soaked. Not only in sweat. It's sticky between your legs, uncomfortably so, and you can almost drip down your goddamn thighs, now that your smallclothes are gone.
Facing the truth, you have never been this horny in your entire life. Ever.
"Hells," you grit through your teeth, breathing hard as realization hits, "it really were the fucking berries."
It had to be. There was no other explanation. This wasn't a natural occurrence, not even in your heaviest dry spell, which had lasted almost five years, was it this severe. It had to be some form of potent aphrodisiac. You've heard of them. Forbidden fruit from faraway countries, turning you into a slave of your own urges, your own desires, helping you reach the highest of highs with your devoted lover.
Feeling like you are this close to humping the next random object in the room, you think this comes awfully close to the truth. And considering you had at least ten of the berries, you might have slightly overdosed…
"I'm going to kill her," you groan when you shove your hand between your legs, starting to frantically get yourself off. "I'm going to kill her and burn the booth down, with all this cursed fruit."
It's not sexy or erotic in any way, shape or form and it doesn't take long, your shaking fingers stroke the small swollen nub between your legs a few times and you find release, frighteningly quick. But it doesn't alleviate the pressure, doesn't do anything, doesn't scratch the itch that's been growing more persistent as the moments tick by.
You try again. And again.
It doesn't help.
The tiled floor is nice and cool and you lie there, spreadeagled, with your cheek pressed against the stone. Your heated skin welcomes the sensation but you can only barely shake the urge to rub yourself on the stone floor.
It's going to be okay, you try to tell yourself, you're just going to wait this out, right here on the floor. At one point, whatever aphrodisiac was in the fruit would wear off and you would go on with your life. Until then you would simply do what's necessary to get through the night.
Yes.
Good plan.
Fabulous plan.
You want to cry just thinking about having to feel like this the whole night and however long this goes on, but it's a fabulous plan. You almost wish you got the food poisoning instead.
You mentally prepare yourself to spend the night on the ground, stewing in your own juices, horny like a horde of coeurls in heat and maybe simply masturbate yourself to sleep, when there is a gentle knock on your door.
Great. Just. Great. A visitor.
You don't move a muscle, try to even out your breathing, pretend you're already fast asleep. Maybe they will go away after a while.
Another knock, someone says your name.
Estinien.
You groan involuntarily.
"Are you alright?" Estinien asks when he hears you, voice muffled through the wood.
"Yes," you say, but it sounds more like a desperate whine and your voice is already hoarse.
"Open the door," he demands and you hear the handle being jostled. It doesn't budge, though, you bolted it before you succumbed to your more basic urges.
"No," you whine, again, still not moving.
You hear Estinien sigh at the other side of the door.
"If you don't open it, I will."
You chuckle weakly, "is that a promise or a threat?"
He doesn't answer and you hear nothing for a moment, except the blood rushing in your ears. You try and listen with baited breath and for a moment you hope he actually listened and left. Then you do hear footsteps. But not retreating.
He's preparing to kick the door in.
You scramble to your hands and knees.
"Estinien, no, stop," you groan, this time with a hint of desperation, stumbling through your room, trying to find anything to cover up with. In the end, you rip the thin sheets from the bed, wrap them around your shoulders, like a cloak and open the door, panting.
And you were right in your assessment. Estinien really stands at the other side of the hallway, body angled towards your door and ready to strike.
He looks at your dishevelled form, wary and you ask yourself how you must look. Hair probably a mess, face sweaty, eyes glassy. You want to cry.
"Thancred asked me to check on you after you bolted," he says, face betraying no emotion, as always. Estinien with the poker face.
You huff, your voice feels shaky as you answer. "Thancred can shove it."
Estinien doesn't react. "You don't look well, you're drenched in sweat."
"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," you say, leaning your head against the doorframe and wrapping the sheet around you more tightly. You close your eyes. Looking at Estinien doesn't help, his hair down and silky, shirt still halfway unbuttoned, his long and strong legs in a pair of tight leather pants.
You feel yourself clench and something trickles down your thigh.
Your weird and long lasting crush on the former Azure Dragoon was actually a very well kept secret. It had taken you quite a while to admit to yourself that yes, you were indeed quite fond of the grumpy and unsociable Elezen man.
More than quite fond.
He had never shown any form of interest in your person, though, or for anyone, ever, really. So you had tried to shove it into a box in the back of your mind, not to be dealt with, not to be touched.
Just left alone.
It had worked well, for a while. After the Dragonsong War was over, Estinien had disappeared and you were busy helping to liberate oppressed people and fight a lunatic prince. Then your time in the First, where the threat of being swallowed by the light was more prominent than that of a broken heart.
But now?
Now he was here. All the time. A Scion, just like yourself, with the same goal, the same mission. Standing there, by your door, looking all kinds of beautiful and delectable and gods, you were so horny .
"Can I help with anything?" Estinien asks, sounding honestly worried now, when he doesn't see you moving for a while, lost in your own thoughts and misery.
Your whole body aches.
"It's the berries," you finally say and giggle. It sounds a little unhinged, even to your own ears, but that doesn't matter now.
Nothing matters.
Nothing, except Estinien standing there, useless, when he could come in and bend you over the table. Throw you on the bed, take you from behind-
"The berries?" Estinien echoes when you don't continue.
"Yeah. I thought they were just regular Rolanberries, but I guess they are some form of aphrodisiac. And of course I didn't share like the glutton I am, I had the whole basket by myself…"
You look for a reaction on Estinien's face, his eyes widen just a little, the first crack in his usual stony demeanour. But he doesn't say anything, waits for you to continue.
Ah… To hell with it.
"If you truly want to help me," you say, loosening your grip on the blanket and letting it slide off your shoulders. You don't really care that your tits are almost on full display now, sweat rolling down the supple mounds. It's too hot and you are too tired. "You have two options."
"I'm listening," Estinien says, eyes trained on your face, quite obviously trying to not let his eyes drop any lower. You wouldn't have cared if he did, but that wasn't the point you were trying to make.
"Option one, you fuck off and leave me alone to deal with this."
You see him swallow, throat bobbing and his eyes glazing over with something you wished was desire. His voice is a little raspy when he speaks.
"And option two?"
You don't even feel bold. You feel defeated and tired an oh so horny. No dignity, no nothing. You sigh.
"Option two, you fuck me and hopefully put me out of my misery."
There is silence, for a beat or two, where Estinien just looks at you, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, clearly thinking. You stand there, still leaning against the doorframe with your legs crossed, thighs rubbing together ever so slightly, causing friction you so desperately crave. You feel your chest rising and falling a little quicker.
When Estinion doesn't answer or even move, you sigh again, defeated and mortified. "Just leave me alone and forget you ever saw this, let's never speak of it again, it's horrifying enough as it is."
Trying to stand up straight, you prepare to retreat back into your room, shut the door in his face and let the ground swallow you whole.
"Estinien, please."
Your silent plea seems to rip him out of his stupor and he straightens, gently grabs your shoulders to push you back into the room. He closes the door behind him, bolts it again for good measure.
For a moment, you are too stunned to speak, your heart beating a malm a minute and you rest your backside against the table that's standing in the middle of the room. Your legs are deceptively weak, all of a sudden. What is happening? Did he really just come into your room after you basically begged him to fuck you?
Estinien just stands there for a few moments, hands on his hips, brow furrowed in concentration. When he says nothing, does nothing, you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts in before you can utter a single word.
"You are sure, you want this?" he asks, finally looking at you and the way his eyes darken has you suck in a sharp breath, legs pressing together, because Twelve take you, you want this man so much.
You nod, eagerly, almost not able to believe that this is really happening, your heart is beating so hard it threatens to jump out of your throat.
He takes a step towards you, says your name.
"I need you to say it. I need to be sure this is what you want."
"I do," you blurt out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, head spinning, "I really do want this. I want you."
He steps even closer, now directly in your personal space, his booted toes almost touching your bare ones and you can smell him. The soap from the inn, something fruity with a hint of vanilla and it makes your head spin. The smell of the tavern you had eaten in in his clothes, his own scent that's so Estinien it makes your head spin even more. You close your eyes, because you feel like you can't think with him standing to you this closely.
"If you were Thancred or Urianger I'd have kicked you out in a heartbeat," you manage to say after a few moments.
He has the gall to chuckle. "Is that so?"
Your eyes fly open and your breath almost catches in your throat when you see his face, ilms away from yours, eyes clouded with something that could only be described as want. Desire. Your heart skips a beat and you want to sink into those sapphire depths.
"Estinien," you say, trying to sound stern, but not managing, not when you want to climb him like a mountain. "I've been wanting to sit on your gorgeous face ever since we've been roaming through the Dravanian Forelands. I want this. Really bad, if you can't tell by now."
It's all the encouragement he seems to need, because only a moment later, his lips crash against yours, a hand on your neck, disappearing in your hair, tugging ever so slightly. His slick tongue is in your mouth and you groan. Oh, it feels so good, it feels so right, his warm lips on yours, soft and demanding and his hands reassured but gentle.
You release the sheet still wrapped around you and in an instant you are naked before him. You find yourself not caring at all, not when his tongue expertly fills your mouth and you ask yourself if you have been ever kissed like this before. Your hands fly to the buttons of his shirt and you fumble with the tiny pieces, fingers shaking too much to be nimble.
"Let me," Estinien says, lips barely leaving yours and he makes quick work of his shirt, the fabric joining your own clothes on the floor just moments later.
You let your hands wander over the bronze skin of his torso, the lean muscle, the soft skin and the bumpy scars from countless battles fought and it's even better than you imagined. His hands are on you, one back in your hair, long fingers slightly tugging.
A moan leaves your lips that sounds more like a desperate whine when his free hand wanders over one of your bare breasts, fingers nimbly caressing the already hard and sensitive peak and it has you gasping into his mouth.
It's agonising. His lips are now on your throat, peppering the skin with tiny kisses and bites, slowly wandering lower while your hands are on his back, in his hair, so soft and silky and beautiful, like liquid silver between your fingers.
"Estinien," you manage to squeeze out when he takes a nipple between his teeth and gently tugs, a bolt like lightning running through you, straight to the already uncomfortable pressure between your legs. You can feel yourself arch into him at the sensation.
"Estinien, please," you pant, breathless, when he moves back to pepper your lips with kisses, hands now on both sides of your face, cradling it almost too gently.
"Please what?" he whispers, forehead touching yours, strands of his hair tickling your cheek.
"I really appreciate the foreplay," you manage to press out, your hands wandering over his exposed torso, his stomach, to the hem of his pants, "but I'm soaking wet already, so please."
Your hand is shaking when you dip lower, cupping the bulge that is forming underneath the leather, straining. Estinien hisses through his teeth, eyes pressed close, when you start palming him through the material.
"Please, just fuck me, I beg you."
His answer to your plea doesn't happen with words, but instead, he bends down a little and hoists you up on the table, hands on the fleshy part of your buttocks. When he's certain you are sitting safely, he pushes you backwards so you lie down flat.
"You want me to fuck you?" he asks, his fingers dancing along the waistband of his pants and over the obvious bulge still hiding underneath, his sapphire eyes never leaving yours. Even though the question was rhetorical, you nod, almost frantically, anticipation zapping through your limbs like an electric current, while you watch him undo his pants. You barely even notice how you spread your legs, much less feel embarrassed with how needy you are presenting yourself.
He's not wearing smallclothes, you realise when he opens his zipper and pulls down his pants just enough to pull out his now fully erect cock. The realisation does the most wonderful things to your insides and you can barely hold back the whimper that rips out of your throat.
Estinien still looks at you, a small smile spreading across his lips as he wraps his delicious, long fingers around his cock, giving it a few good strokes. You whimper again, louder this time.
"Estinien…"
He grins. It's not malicious or with any ill intent and were you any clearer, you'd have realised the softness dancing across his features when looking at you.
"Apologies," he says, stepping closer, his hand still around his cock, "I did not mean to tease you."
The back of your head hits the tabletop with a thud when Estinien bends forward, one elbow resting by your shoulder for leverage while the other urges you to wrap your legs around his hips. It doesn't take much, when he moves his cock against the wetness of your entrance to slick himself up with your juices, your eyes roll back, the most obscene moan tumbling out of your mouth.
It's almost ridiculous how good it feels, how even a small thing like this has you close to tumbling over the edge already.
Estinien lets out a breathless chuckle when he feels the wetness between your thighs. "That truly is one strong aphrodisiac," he says, kissing the next moan right off of your lips.
"Maybe I shouldn't have had all of them," you groan, back arching in anticipation when you feel him lining himself up, "maybe that was a bit much."
"Maybe."
And that's the last thing you hear before he pushes in, tip to base, in one fluid motion.
To say you see stars is a gross understatement and you feel your eyes roll back into your skull. By now you are convinced the aphrodisiac has heightened your senses even more because you had the whole bunch. So, naturally, the first thrust is so intense you almost black out.
Almost.
Instead the noise you make sounds dangerously like a relieved sob. It's embarrassing, really, how quickly you come, only a few languid thrusts from Estinien's hips and he has you falling over the edge, toes curling, back arching. There is white behind your eyelids and the noises you make are all but unholy.
Estinien is still inside of you when you come back down from your high, nose against the soft skin right beneath your ear, lips gentle on your exposed throat. When your breathing has calmed, he levels his face with yours, looking at you, expression so earnest it almost makes you giggle.
"Was that good?"
You nod. "Very much so."
And yes, it did the trick. At least a little. You feel less ready to implode and collapse into yourself like a dying star and more like the floodgates have been opened, the uncomfortable pressure on your whole being gone. But everything else is still there. You still feel that tingle throughout your whole body and pooling low in your belly. The almost endless desire shooting through your veins like liquid fire. This first orgasm might have taken off the worst edge the aphrodisiac had, but now you just want him.
"Then let's move to the bed and do this properly."
You yelp, indignantly, when Estinien grabs you, legs still around his hips, hoists you up into his arms and walks to the bed. He drops you and you let out a hearty "oof," when you hit the mattress.
While Estinien gets rid of his pants completely, you manage to get a good long look at him. It makes your mouth water and your toes curl and you are not embarrassed to admit it. Berries be damned, that man is attractive.
Before you know it, he's back on top of you, the skin on skin contact wonderful and delicious and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him back in for a kiss. Estinien is just too happy to oblige, his hands roam across your body again, fingers dancing across your sensitive sides. You press yourself up against him, legs wrapped around his hips, urging him to go again.
And that, too, he gives you all too willingly, sliding in without any fanfare into the hot wetness between your legs and setting a pace that has you pant and moan his name over and over and over again.
It's good and beautiful and yes, the aphrodisiac is still running rampant in your body, but now it feels good, amazing even. The itch being scratched, Estinien on top of you, setting a pace that has you coming again with a strangled moan.
"How are you faring?" you ask, breathless, when you feel the ability to think returning back to your head. You are no savage, of course not. And while Estinien is definitely capable of looking out for himself, you want to make sure he's comfortable through this… encounter. Enjoying himself.
He's propped up on his elbows, looking down on you, his hair framing your face like a silky curtain.
"I could not be better," he says and gives you one of those rare smiles that makes your insides constrict and you feel heat rising in your cheeks that has nothing to do with your arousal. The look he gives you is so much more intimate than his cock inside of you could ever be and it's almost too much for you to bear.
Estinien lowers his face, captures your lips in a gentle kiss, long and languid, his hips beginning to move again, almost painfully slow. It's even better than before. Deliberate, not frantic, set on wringing every ounce of pleasure out of your still oversensitive body.
He takes one of your legs, hooks it over the crook of his elbow and angles his hips just so. Again, you see stars, his cock hitting that one spot inside of you that has you choke out a sob and it's too much, so good, so good, so good-
"Estinien," you manage to whimper before you come again, even harder than before, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, the intensity almost too much to handle.
Estinien himself does not fare any better, he's breathing heavily into your neck, his thrusts becoming less and less refined, hips stuttering, upping the pace and with a garbled groan, he releases inside of you.
For a few moments, the both of you simply lie there, panting, spent, basking in the afterglow. Estinien has collapsed on top of you, head on your chest, his heavy breath tickling the sensitive skin of your breasts.
In that moment, you feel strangely at peace. A calm has washed over your body and through your mind that you haven't had the pleasure to feel in a while. The air around you is still balmy, the sun has finally set and made way for a cloudless starry night. From the streets below voices can be heard, the small port town still busy with life even after sundwon.
It might be something akin to the end of the world that brought you here to Thavnair, but right in this moment all that mattered was you and the Elezen man in your arms that definitely stole your heart along the way.
Shit.
Shit .
Estinien stirs, you can hear him take in a deep breath, nose buried in your sweat slicked skin.
It tickles and you giggle.
"What are you doing?" you ask, your whole body tingling and singing, but for the first time in hours (days, weeks, months), not because of those damned berries.
"You smell good," Estinien says without looking at you, nuzzling the soft skin between your breasts. And it should be sexual, he has his face between your tits for Twelve's sake! But it's not. It's strangely intimate how he lovingly caresses the soft skin with his nose. It tickles a little.
You giggle again.
Hells, what is happening to you?
Estinien props himself up, looks down on you again, his striking blue eyes taking in every small feature of your face, expression earnest, bordering on something that could be called adoring. Something you have never seen on him and it almost takes your breath away.
"How are you feeling?" he asks after a few moments of him just looking at you and you feeling like you are about to lose your shit.
"Better," you say with a half smile, very well aware that your body is still more than ready to go. Not as bad as before, more subdued, less painful, but still definitely there. The wetness between your legs returns albeit a little slower this time.
He smiles, looking a little sheepish and, oh, it's so delightful, seeing him like this, not grumpy and stern and hellbent on his mission. You feel special in this moment, because you know that probably not many people get to see the former Azure Dragoon like this.
"I might need a few moments to recuperate," he says, with the slightest hint of embarrassment in his voice, looking towards his loins, "my apologies."
At that, you take his face into both of your hands, thumbs caressing his sharp cheekbones.
"Estinien," you say with as much earnestness as you can muster, because your heart is overflowing with adoration, "you have nothing to apologise for. Quite the contrary."
You pull him down for a chaste kiss and he sighs gently against your lips. It makes you shiver.
"This has to be the best thing that's happened to me in a while."
He doesn't say anything, just leans down to kiss you again, savouring every little sound he elicits from you. It doesn't even matter that you are still desperately horny, the wetness between your thighs back with a vengeance, but it doesn't matter. Not when Estinien is kissing you like this, like you are the most precious thing in the world.
And maybe you were.
To him at least.
The thought alone makes your heart sing.
After a while, one of his hands begins to wander again. Down the mounds of your breasts, palm resting at the peak and gently stroking the nipple to hardness again. You moan between his lips and arch into his touch. But then his hand moves on, down to your stomach, until his fingers reach your wet folds.
"Oh," you gasp when he slides two of them in with a wet sound, curling them just right, his thumb massaging the small nub at the top of your core and it's oh so perfect.
"You see," Estinien says, kissing the next moan right off your lips, voice low and almost a little teasing while his fingers slowly keep pumping in and out of you in a steady rhythm that has you curl your toes. "Unlike many other men I do not rely on my cock alone to pleasure my lover."
"By the Twelve, Estinien ," you moan, eyes falling shut when the pad of his middle finger hits that spot again and you feel yourself clenching around him.
His face wanders lower, lips leaving a trail of kisses in their wake until they reach your breasts again, his mouth on one of your nipples, gently sucking, tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. Your back arches into his touch again, his fingers never ceasing their delicious rhythm and in tandem with his lips on your tits has you seeing stars yet again. It takes a little longer this time, you can feel it building up low inside your core, your breath stuttering in your chest and you come again, gasping his name.
Estinien gently lets you ride out your high before he removes his fingers with a wet sound that would have you embarrassed under any other circumstance.
But not now.
Especially not now, with him holding his hand up to his lips, licking your juices straight off. He doesn't look at you, as his eyes are closed, but he knows you are watching. Oh yes, you are watching . And he's enjoying it.
"I knew you'd taste delicious," you say and it makes you whimper with want. "And here I am, thinking you were the only one to be allowed to taste a sweet treat."
He looks at you again, downright mischievous, and suddenly you have a hard time catching your breath.
"Are you still ready for more?" he asks, making sure you still want this, still need this and you nod, frantically, biting your lip because he had no right to be this beautiful, sitting there, dishevelled and glowing, considerate and polite, so unlike the Estinien you've gotten to know in the past years.
"Good," he says, lips pulling into a smirk. "Good. Because now I really want to taste you."
This time, he doesn't come back up and instead slides lower, gently nudging your legs apart. He grabs one of your thighs, hand underneath your knee, picks it up like it's something valuable and kisses the sensitive skin on the inside.
You shiver, not knowing where to put your hands so your arms just lie limp next to your head. His kisses turn into gentle nips and bites and it has you gasping his name in no time again.
"Look at you," he says, kissing his way up, "beautiful."
Then his face is between your legs and your head falls back when you feel his warm tongue lapping across your core. It's absolutely heavenly.
You can't deny, Estinien knows exactly what he's doing, applying just the right pressure, dipping his tongue inside of you, licking, sucking at just the right spots. He all but devours you, like a man dying of hunger and it seemed to please him just as much as it did you.
Your mouth is unoccupied, he's not kissing you, but rather busy between you legs, so a string of muttered words leaves your lips, showering him with praise and moans and sighs of pleasure.
It only seems to spur him on, his hands holding your thighs in an almost bruising grip to prevent them from closing. Your hands wander, find their way down and into his hair, grabbing onto the silky strands and you feel him groan against your folds when you slightly tug.
It takes a bit longer, this time, and without the aphrodisiac setting your body all but on fire, it actually feels better. You are able to feel more of him and less of this desperate desire to be taken, again and again and again.
Still, when you come, for the nth time that night, it feels wonderful, your release freeing, almost cathartic.
Estinien comes back up to kiss you again and you can taste yourself on his lips and on his tongue and, gods, this shouldn't be this good. But it is and you feel wonderful and content and sated.
Well, almost sated.
"I think I need one more," you say, sounding sheepish and now that most of the aphrodisiac has been flushed out of your system and you feel like yourself again, you feel yourself blushing.
"One more?" Estinien asks with a kiss against your temple and you can feel him smile.
"Yes, please, one more."
Gently he rearranges the both of you, that you are on your side, head pillowed on the crook of his elbow and Estinien behind you. He's hard again, you can feel it and it fills you with a sense of pride that this is him reacting to being with you.
No aphrodisiac, just you.
He's kissing your neck, teeth nipping at the skin, sure to leave bruises come morning. It's fine, you don't care, the whole world can see.
Now that your body has settled again, everything back to normal, Estinien takes extra care in making sure you are properly wet and ready to go, using those delectable fingers again to have you panting and moaning in no time.
He picks your leg up again, drapes it over his arm for better access and enters you in one fluid motion, his cock filling you so deliciously his name spills over your lips again and again. His mouth is on your neck, wandering up and you angle your head so he can kiss you.
It's wonderful, the kiss almost too slow to bare, his lips and tongue sliding against yours as if you had all the time in the world, all the while he fucks into you in a slow and steady rhythm. Deliberate. It almost drives you mad.
It takes even longer, this time around, pleasure building slowly, low in your stomach and you're sweating again, but this time not because of some cursed Rolanberries. This time it's all him, him, him, him and it's good and wonderful and when you come again, Estinien's name is on your lips like fervent prayer. Needless to say, he follows closely behind you, face buried in your hair, hips stuttering and the hand still on your thigh almost bruising with the force of his own orgasm.
That's it, you think. That's truly it.
You're completely worn out, sated, tired, exhausted, any other word to describe this state where your limbs feel soft and gooey and your insides all warm and content. Estinien manages to get himself out of bed long enough to procure a wet washcloth, gently cleaning the mess between both your legs and you're too tired and too happy to be bashful at the intimate gesture.
When he's done, Estinien tosses the washcloth into the room to be dealt with later. Preferably in the morning. Gods, you are tired.
"What's wrong?" you ask with a yawn, stretching like a lazy cat on a bed of silk, when he just sits there, at the edge of the bed, looking at you. You take his hand and place it on your cheek, nuzzling your nose into his palm.
"Do you want me to leave?"
You look up at him.
Estinien has always been a straightforward kind of person. He never beats around the bush, always says what he thinks and generally doesn't believe in sugar coating. He asks questions when they are uncomfortable and gives answers that need to be given when no one wants to.
You know he appreciates when people do the same thing for him.
"Of course not, you dumb man, I want you to stay."
He huffs out a small laugh, his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.
"Okay," he says, slides back into bed next to you again and you immediately use the chance to snuggle close. Estinien is a furnace, you realise only now and it truly doesn't mix well with the balmy night air.
It doesn't matter. You are already thoroughly sweaty and sticky, what more could a little cuddling do?
"I hope you realise that there is a lot more of this in your future, you are pretty much doomed now," you say into his chest and you feel more than hear him chuckle. He runs gentle fingers through your hair, drops a kiss to the crown of your head.
"I sure do hope so," he says, tucking your head beneath his chin, "now that I have you, I will not let you out of my sight again."
He stills, adjusts your shoulders and gently pushes you away, so that he can look at you. There suddenly is an uncertainty in his eyes that hasn't been there before and he looks almost shy.
"I do have you, don't I?"
You can't answer him with words. Not with how your throat tightens and your stomach feels like it's being assaulted by fireflies. Your throat feels dry when you swallow and your heart feels a little heavy, a little sad for Estinien.
Estinien, who was left alone more often than someone should be able to bear.
"Of course you do," you finally say, gently pushing a strand of hair from his brow, "as long as you are willing to have me."
At that, he smiles.
You press a kiss to his chin. "And I will have you, for as long as you let me."
He pulls you close, even closer than before and it feels a lot like he is holding onto you. It's okay, though. Right at this moment, there is no place you'd rather be. It doesn't take long for sleep to finally pull you under, blessed sleep, your whole form boneless and enveloped by Estinien's warm body, the last thing you hear is his calm and even breaths.
If you remember in the morning, you'd go back to the market, find the lady and thank her. Give her a big hug and maybe a kiss on the cheek, if she's up for that.
She kind of deserves it.
🍓🍓🍓
When you wake up the next morning to the day's first rays of the sun, purple creeping over the horizon just so, the space on the bed next to you is too cold and too empty.
A memory lingers at the back of your mind from not too long ago, the low light of an early dawn, Estinien sitting at the edge of your bed, slipping back into his boots, pushing the hair out of your still half asleep face. You swear you can still hear him whisper, gently, oh so gently, "I'll see you later, my love," and then, with a kiss to your brow, he's gone.
You can't help feeling just a tad bit disappointed, waking up alone, especially not after still feeling wonderfully boneless. Still, you manage to get out of bed, pleasantly sore all over, get washed up and dressed. Putting on your gear is a little slower, a little more painful than usual, but you know, life won't wait for the Warrior of Light. No matter how tired, no matter how spent.
You had a job to do.
With a wistful sigh you let your eyes wander over the room one last time before you leave, a smile making its way across your lips when you see the impossibly rumpled bed. It is with much reluctance that you leave this bubble, weapon fastened to your back, bringing you back to the real world rather violently.
It was nice while it lasted.
When you step out of the inn, the three other men are already waiting for you. Urianger is deeply entrenched in a map he's carrying, Estinien stands by the wall, arms crossed, but he smiles when he sees you and you feel giddy.
You want to shake yourself, get a grip woman.
Thancred looks at you like the coeurl who got the cream and you want to slap him.
Hard.
But lovingly.
You are friends, after all.
Your little group sets itself in motion, Urianger at the front of the pack with the map, Estinien at the back, Thancred and you in the middle. Probably on purpose, as you realise with an eyeroll, when he jovially throws an arm around your neck and you fully expect him to pull you into a headlock.
"So," Thancred stage whispers, right next to your ear, when you cross the marketplace, "tell me about those… Rolanberries you had."
You snort, poking him into his side where you know his armour is thin enough to let you. He yelps. "There is absolutely nothing to tell. They were delicious."
"Indeed. So I heard." Thancred gives you a shiteating grin when he releases you and rubs his side.
"What do you mean?" you ask, wide eyed, because oh no, oh no, absolutely not.
Thancred can't help himself, he laughs, loud, from deep inside his chest.
"I have ears, doll," he says, "and your room just happened to be next to mine."
"Twelve, have mercy," you mumble and bury your face in your hands, mortified, the memory of you panting, moaning, begging, burning like a hot rod at the forefront of your mind.
Thancred smacks you on the back, heartily.
"Don't worry about it, I thought it quite inspiring," he says goodnaturedly, giving you one of his signature winks. Well. One you thought he had lost and left in the lifestream forever. You are just about to drop it, give him a smile and move on when he says, "maybe I'll go and ask Estinien about his secrets, he really seems to know what he's doing."
"Thancred Waters, I will murder you!"
Your yell can probably be heard in Radz-at-Han, but you don't care, embarrassed down to the bones, while Thancred just skips ahead, laughing, leaving you to stew in your mortification.
Suddenly, there is a gloved hand on your shoulder and Estinien is next to you, clearly amused, while you look at him with your mouth open.
"Can you believe this man?" you ask, certain that Estinien overheard the whole exchange. Of course he has, for all his capabilities in espionage and subtlety, Thancred wasn't exactly trying to keep it quiet.
Estinien's hand slides down your arm and he grabs your hand, lifts it to his lips and kisses your fingers, exposed thanks to the fingerless leather gloves you are wearing.
"Let him have his fun," Estinien says and gives you a look that has your insides melt, "I have something much better."
You resist the temptation to pull him down and kiss him stupid. Especially with this look he's giving you, all soft and warm.
That will have to wait.
"And I owe you a… sit on my face, if I remember your words correctly?"
Now it's your turn to slap his armoured shoulder. A mistake, you soon realise, a spiky mistake. Still, you can't help but grin.
What an idiot.
But your idiot.
Your idiot.