bardische | Golden Peacock TDM Overflow

[ from here ]

As have you, [ he agrees, his smile warm as her hands settle in his. If she is inexperienced, it is not something he registers as odd. She seems younger than him, for one, and for another he is used to women of aristocratic background being deeply careful with their attentions.

He does notice the hand on his neck, and that the stiff formality of it softens some. She is comfortable, and he is glad. His own mouth was set to stay even, but he finds his lips shifting softly to meet hers in the breath before she pulls back, his own face lingering near hers as he still supports her hands.

He would be glad to see her again, he realized. Whether she wished to kiss him or simply to walk beside someone to pass the uneasy time. ]

It has genuinely been a delight, my Lady.

[ from here ]

[ Basch lets out a sound that's equal parts surprise and undeniable pleasure, his body going rigid for a moment before he melts into the warm touch at his jaw and welcoming kiss that is in no way strictly polite. His hands graze Tighnari's sides before settling a little more firmly, letting the other guide how long he'd like this interaction to last.

Regardless, his already heightened pulse quickens.]

[ from here ]

[ Basch shudders as that thigh presses up between his legs, his moan hardly tempered, even as he knows others will hear. Maybe because of it. There's some level of guilt still gripping him, until the undeniable press of an equally eager arousal digs into his hip.

Ah, well, that changes things. He sighs out relief and deep, longing want, even as Sylvain's breath reaches his ear. It's -- so much to try to hold at once, too many feelings, too much that he wants and should not want so openly.

It's so much easier, though, to be presented clearly with options that the other likes. He licks his lip, swallowing as he nods. ]

Ask me again after.

[ Easier, than being too eager. And should whatever this is subside with the leash, it is an out for him. But -- much as he wants to deny it, he knows the leash has not brought this on. Greased the wheels, loosed his tongue, given him a push of boldness, but this is rooted in him, and now that someone clearly wants him, that shame turns to pure desirous heat. Especially because Sylvain has done this before and wants him for it now.

Still pinned, he bites the inside of his cheek -- gods forgive him -- and lets himself grind back against Sylvain's leg, hip catching that rigid heat. ]

[ from here ]

[ He's glad his simple act of deferential respect pleases her. He, too, knows the desire to help and fill, but he's so unused to it being turned on him, even after weeks with the unending attempts by his odd companions at home. Her soft touch almost stings, a mounting debt he wants to pay back tenfold.

And she is so beautiful. Her hand on his face is gentle but firm, giving him permission and command to look. If that is how he can serve her, so be it, and he lets the awe show on his face, his breathing coming more heavily. The idea of her climbing into his lap and having her way with him flits across his mind, but he barely has time to consider it before she's draping her thigh across his, warm and strong, her weight balanced on him and gods he wants more, wants to have to support both of them as she makes it harder and harder for him.

Again she teases him, asking him to choose. He's thankful for the suggestions of what she likes, wanting to make this good for her. His hands come more firmly to the thick flesh of her thighs, tracing over her skin and up against the dips of the harness on her skin, then come to trace the warm, heavy flesh of her breasts, skating over the floral appliqués before he cups each in a large hand, gently but firmly massaging her around the straps, his hips jutting slightly in want.

He could lift her so easily, place her somewhere and take her however she wished. That makes it that much hotter that she has him utterly pinned with little more than a thigh and a few fingers. And of course, the collar, reminding him he is, for now, her charge. ]

Does this please, my Lady?

[ from here ]

[ Basch wouldn't disagree. His life had been so full of hollowness; anything else was a luxury, and that's not what he was built for. ]

One needs hope to survive, but too much can be as poisonous as none.

[ His gaze is far away, his fists tightening. But it passes. He's always been soothed by those who can live that way; that's the world he fights for, the people he wants to protect.

Olivine may be less naive than he appears; Basch is more. Years in prison and on the run have eroded already weak social awareness, and so he is unabashedly surprised when Olivine so earnestly accepts his offer. ]

Privacy would not be remiss.

[ He doesn't really want to don the terrible t-shirt he's been provided with, but clean clothing and a quiet space are some of the luxuries he has come to cherish, and there is no doubt he's growing hungry. ]

Basch. [ That name is not a danger here, an odd thing to consider. ] Good to meet you.

[ from here ]

[ He supposes that's true. Balthier and Fran had said something similar.

He's startled as Eiden moves closer. If anything, he ought to be serving the other. But -- there's something he recognized in that set gaze. A need to be of service, and so he nods, once, willing himself to stay relaxed. ]

I suppose that's a fair way to look at it. And returning rested would be a boon.

[ There's so much ahead of him, and his body could use the time to keep healing. Eiden may notice that, despite his physique, he's laced with scars and is thinner than his bone structure suggests. He could do to eat more and sleep more. ]

You're skilled at this. [ An observation, more than a complimet. Was Eiden someone this was easy for? It never had been for Basch. ]

[ From here ]

[ He's going to protest -- he wants to touch her more than he wants to be touched, except she's climbing over him with so much confidence that he moans, cock jerking. His hands come to trace her sides, breathing in sharply as she raises her ass up in his face. ]

Hilda--

[ But he's rendered speechless as the sensation driving him mad is joined by her tongue. His whole body arches, fingers digging into her, and he cries out louder than he means. Gods he wants her, her calloused hands, her gorgeous, strong body, her strangely luscious hair. His hands move to her ass, meaning to massage and tease her, but his next moan turns to a whimper, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into her. ]

Gods, Hilda, you feel...incredible...

[ from here ]

[ That gets a genuine chuckle from Basch. He...should have put that together sooner. ] Then I will remind you that I appreciate your efforts more often. And what you have naturally.

[ Somehow, Basch had not connected that Olivine was going to connect their talking to their play, and as his brain processes that the scenario Olivine spins is accompanied by the sound of disrobing, his breath grows audibly shallower, body eagerly remembering their many times together.

He's right; Basch is sitting straight as a timber tree, shifting now that is body is starting to react. And he's not expecting Olivine's words at all, nearly speechless with them. ]

I ... have never worn anything like that by intention, but I'd enjoy exploring it with you. [ He takes a breath, pushing the edges of his discomfort. ] Let's...pretend I'm wearing one now. And that while my vines delicately unwrapped you, I got close enough for you to touch, and you only discovered them when your hands slid under my shirt.

[ His voice has dropped to little more than a whisper, slow and deep. Like when he reads. He's better at this than he thinks, maybe because of the thousands of pages of romances he's read out loud. ] Would you leave them unseen, or would you try to disrobe me for a better view?

For Edelgard

for Tighnari

for Sylvain