(if yennefer felt at all rushed or pressured in a way she wasn't comfortable with she would sooner shove him off of her than climb into his lap. but right now his own desire, his need to be close is as reassuring as everything else. the way his arms wrap around her like she's something precious he could lose at any moment.
it feels safe in his arms, not that she would ever say those words, admit that she needs that from him or anyone else. she pulls away just enough to catch her breath, letting her forehead rest against his for a moment. )
[Geralt lets his head rest against Yennefer's, his eyes drifting almost closed. Not quite, though. He doesn't let himself lose sight of her.
There's no doubt that Yennfer is one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen, though that's no coincidence. She'd chosen this face and this body. It's not that alone that makes her beautiful. Pretty faces are easy to find and rarely last.
It's the fire inside of her that makes her attractive. It's also what makes her so unstable.
(are you all right? it's a simple and complicated question. the easy answer is no. she's not all right. she won't be until they find her a way out of this. she won't be able to rest, truly be at peace until she's gotten her freedom and soul back. but there is solace in his arms, the memory of feeling safe in them many times before. they've never properly talked about all that. she's not about to bring that up.)
I'm better than I was when I got here. (it's at least an honest answer. she's not okay, but she's better. and maybe that's all she can hope for. and her heart is racing for reasons beyond anxiety now, which is a pleasant change.)
I just.... (it's so hard for her to simply ask for what she wants or needs from him, even now.)
[Probably that's the fairest answer he can expect. Geralt asked it because he wanted to know, because she's been through a great deal and leave it to Yennefer to ignore the simple fact that anyone would be worn thin by the stress she's under and pretend to be strong right up until the point that the strain snapped her in half.
At the same time, it's not so easy is it?
Her answer tells him a lot, and implicit is the fact that even better, she's not all right.
He offers a nod, his head still close to hers, then brushes a light kiss over the corner of her mouth. A gesture more out of their false life than their real one.]
I don't imagine you expect me to distract you with my stunning conversation.
[He's already said a lot for him, but he has to ask even if it's in a round about way.]
(in some ways this new found intimacy between them feels like something they stole. it belonged to the other them, not the real them. and yet, she doesn't push it away. she almost mimics his actions, pressing her lips against his jaw as a throaty laugh escapes her lips. )
Stimulating as your thoughts can be, I did have something else in mind.
(she appreciates him asking, but as if to chase away any further doubt she grinds her hips against his suggestively.)
[It might be respectful to ask, to be sure. Mostly he just doesn't want to make any mistakes. He's made enough of them with Yennefer.
And both of them are fragile right now.
There can't be any mistaking Yen's intentions now, though, and he can't say he minds it. He kisses her hair, then her ear, his hands sliding over her hips and back, smoothing over her body. Reassuring both of them.]
(they're very good at making mistakes when it comes to one another -- it can't hurt to make sure it was something they both wanted. his hands are big and warm, helping her keep centered in the moment, when the threat to spin out again feels like it could happen at any moment.
she tilts her head up to capture his lips again, putting a little more pressure into it, less uncertainty and carefulness.)
Geralt's thumbs brush over her back, hands spreading as he sinks into the kiss, lips parting slightly in a clear invitation. He'd like to be touching her skin, for her dress to be out of his way so he could feel her warmth directly. He's not in that much of a hurry, though.
Hearing the say her heartbeat changes, her breathing shifts, is intimate enough to start with.]
(she parts her own lips, letting her tongue brush against his as things deepened. it's less tentative than the earlier kiss, not quite their regular passion but not something so unsure of itself either. something in between.
she places her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the mattress -- not because she's in a hurry but because's greedy and wants to climb completely on top of him, to get as close as she can to him while they're still clothed.)
[It doesn't take any pressure at all, just the silent urging of her hands for Geralt to sink back on the bed. He shifts and inches back on the bed, broad chest spread under her fingers.
Even so, he cranes into the kiss, looking for more of her mouth.]
(she didn't really use much pressure, just enough to get her point across. she couldn't actually push him down if he put up a fight -- but he rarely does in these situations -- unless they're fighting for control which happens sometimes, but isn't what this particular encounter is about.
she easily sinks down into the kiss even more as he cranes upward. kissing him is always good -- but right now it feels like more than that, almost like an anchor keeping her in place. she begins to work on slipping her hands beneath his shirt. she just needs to feel more of him. the warmth of his body. the comfort of his slow heartbeat.)
[As much as they've grown since they saw each other last in their own world, and as much as they've been through together here, this is still easier. The emotions behind the kiss may be different, softer, more mature, more complicated than when they were younger, but this is still the language that comes easiest to them.
Kisses to express confusion and support, comfort if she'll have it.]
(she'll take comfort in this manner, she's even craving it though she doesn't always know how to accept it very well. it's hard to discern the difference between empathy and pity sometimes -- and the last thing yennefer wants is anyone's pity.
so she takes each kiss with a mixture of ease and greed as her hands begin to explore the skin and scars beneath his shirt. she groans softly against his lips as the feel of him, that he's solid and real beneath her. whatever has been taken from her, she can still desire him, want him, feel him and care for him in her own way. that matters, right?)
[It matters to Geralt, at least. It's reassuring to him. It feels like Yennefer, not some husk. Not some shell of the woman he's cared for.
His hands move over her slowly, broad and strong, feeling out the shape of her hip, her thighs, reminding himself what she feels like. The warmth and the weight of her, solid and real across his body. She'd be so easy to pick up. To roll over. But he doesn't.
He strokes her and he returns those kisses, his hand slipping inside of her skirt to touch the smooth skin of her legs directly.]
(she would have fought him on it, if he had tried to roll them over. she needs the sense of control right now, but luckily he seems to understand that. verbally they just make a mess of things with one another half the time, but when it comes to this they are often in sync.
a pleasant hum escapes her lips as she feels his hand slip beneath her skirt. it's enough and not enough all at the same time. which is why she reluctantly pulls away just enough to pull off her dress and discard it before she leans down to start kissing him again. she's not trying to rush things...she just wants to feel him directly on her, is all.)
[Geralt leans back to watch as she pulls her dress over her head, his eyes trailing over her abdomen and chest as she moves. She's so sinuous. It's graceful in a way that's less delicate that it seems. She's strong under that exterior.
Yennefer's life hasn't made her soft.
When she comes back, he cups her cheek, her palm smoothing across her throat.]
(she can't help but smirk a little as she feels his eyes trail over her body as she disrobes. no matter how many times they do this he always looks at her body as if it was the first time, and there's something thrilling about that.
she leans into his touch. his calloused fingers against the soft skin of her neck is always a welcome feeling. her fingers reach for his shirt again and this time she ends up just ripping it open without much care (she can always fix it or magic him up another one later) so she can get easier access to the scarred skin underneath.)
[Geralt's shirt tears, and Geralt barely gives it a thought beyond shrugging out of it, working his arms free so he can touch her again. Her neck, as much as Jaskier likes to make snide comments about it, is one of his favorite of her features.
Her breasts aren't far behind.
He knows it's artistry. He's even seen her as she was before magic perfected her. He'd been attracted to her then, too. It's not her flawlessness that makes her legs or her throat or her eyes so stunning. It's the fact they're hers. Though her eyes do have a special distinction...]
(it may be artistry but that doesn't make it less of a true expression of herself -- after all she chose her features herself, which ones to keep and which ones to change. he'll know from meeting her as she was before that her eyes were one of the things she kept.
his touch was addicting. she always found herself craving more of it. but right now, it's more than that. tender. comforting. proof that she can still enjoy things for herself. a soft moan escapes her lips as she lifts her chin, giving him better access to her neck if he wants it too )
[It becomes very immediately clear that he does want that access, sitting up enough to mouth along the arch off her neck, his kisses heated, hungry.
If anyone is as afraid to lose Yennefer as she is herself, it would be him. But where Yennefer responds to that fear by tightening her grip, Geralt so afraid of losing that he seems to hesitate to hold on.
As though it will hurt less if he doesn't fight. If he tries to appreciate only what he has.
(his mouth feels hot against her skin in the best sort of way. she needs to be wanted right now, and it matters that it's him. she remembers on the mountain, before everything went to shit, how he admitted the worst moment when her smel left. even if he doesn't say it in words she can feel his need, the fear of her disappearing on him now.
her breath becomes a little shallower and she her hands explore his chest, as if trying to memorize each scar, to have something to remember and cling to in case this all does go to shit. )
[The body under her hands has survived things most wouldn't, first the mutations that made him what he is, then in no small part because of that, injuries and poisons that would have killed others. Some of them should have killed him too. He's lucky to have lived through those injuries, but he bears the scars.
He imagines he can feel each of them under her fingers.]
Yen?
[He's not sure if he says her name for her or for himself, or what he's asking for, but her name is the only thing that comes.]
(when he says her name she can't help but pull back just enough so that violet eyes can collide with golden ones. it's a mistake, leaving her feeling much more exposed than she did moments ago. it is more intimate than they've ever allowed themselves to be with one another -- at least the real them. she has plenty of false memories of intimacy. of things that resembled love making more than fucking.)
Yes?
(she doesn't know what he'll say, if anything, but she finds herself almost desperate to find out.)
(she can't help but think about that night on the mountain, when he told her about how he dreaded the moment she left. being left with her smell. she remembers how shit everything went fairly quickly after that.
she also remembers a lifetime and marriage together, sharing the same bed night after night, never tiring of one another. the divide between the two memories is stark and leaves her torn. for a moment it feels almost like she can't breathe. she should get up. she should leave before this goes any further --
but she doesn't want to, is the thing. not really. not with how alone she feels already. maybe it's crueler to stay when she hasn't told him everything, when she might break his heart still -- but she never claimed to be anything more than who she is. and he knows she'll play cards close to her chest if it means survival. besides, it's a last resort. one that'll hopefully never matter.
she's probably quiet for a moment too long before she finally manages an answer.)
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(if yennefer felt at all rushed or pressured in a way she wasn't comfortable with she would sooner shove him off of her than climb into his lap. but right now his own desire, his need to be close is as reassuring as everything else. the way his arms wrap around her like she's something precious he could lose at any moment.
it feels safe in his arms, not that she would ever say those words, admit that she needs that from him or anyone else. she pulls away just enough to catch her breath, letting her forehead rest against his for a moment. )
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There's no doubt that Yennfer is one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen, though that's no coincidence. She'd chosen this face and this body. It's not that alone that makes her beautiful. Pretty faces are easy to find and rarely last.
It's the fire inside of her that makes her attractive. It's also what makes her so unstable.
He sighs.]
Are you all right?
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(are you all right? it's a simple and complicated question. the easy answer is no. she's not all right. she won't be until they find her a way out of this. she won't be able to rest, truly be at peace until she's gotten her freedom and soul back. but there is solace in his arms, the memory of feeling safe in them many times before. they've never properly talked about all that. she's not about to bring that up.)
I'm better than I was when I got here. (it's at least an honest answer. she's not okay, but she's better. and maybe that's all she can hope for. and her heart is racing for reasons beyond anxiety now, which is a pleasant change.)
I just.... (it's so hard for her to simply ask for what she wants or needs from him, even now.)
Help me forget? Just for a little while?
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At the same time, it's not so easy is it?
Her answer tells him a lot, and implicit is the fact that even better, she's not all right.
He offers a nod, his head still close to hers, then brushes a light kiss over the corner of her mouth. A gesture more out of their false life than their real one.]
I don't imagine you expect me to distract you with my stunning conversation.
[He's already said a lot for him, but he has to ask even if it's in a round about way.]
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(in some ways this new found intimacy between them feels like something they stole. it belonged to the other them, not the real them. and yet, she doesn't push it away. she almost mimics his actions, pressing her lips against his jaw as a throaty laugh escapes her lips. )
Stimulating as your thoughts can be, I did have something else in mind.
(she appreciates him asking, but as if to chase away any further doubt she grinds her hips against his suggestively.)
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And both of them are fragile right now.
There can't be any mistaking Yen's intentions now, though, and he can't say he minds it. He kisses her hair, then her ear, his hands sliding over her hips and back, smoothing over her body. Reassuring both of them.]
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(they're very good at making mistakes when it comes to one another -- it can't hurt to make sure it was something they both wanted. his hands are big and warm, helping her keep centered in the moment, when the threat to spin out again feels like it could happen at any moment.
she tilts her head up to capture his lips again, putting a little more pressure into it, less uncertainty and carefulness.)
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Geralt's thumbs brush over her back, hands spreading as he sinks into the kiss, lips parting slightly in a clear invitation. He'd like to be touching her skin, for her dress to be out of his way so he could feel her warmth directly. He's not in that much of a hurry, though.
Hearing the say her heartbeat changes, her breathing shifts, is intimate enough to start with.]
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(she parts her own lips, letting her tongue brush against his as things deepened. it's less tentative than the earlier kiss, not quite their regular passion but not something so unsure of itself either. something in between.
she places her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the mattress -- not because she's in a hurry but because's greedy and wants to climb completely on top of him, to get as close as she can to him while they're still clothed.)
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Even so, he cranes into the kiss, looking for more of her mouth.]
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(she didn't really use much pressure, just enough to get her point across. she couldn't actually push him down if he put up a fight -- but he rarely does in these situations -- unless they're fighting for control which happens sometimes, but isn't what this particular encounter is about.
she easily sinks down into the kiss even more as he cranes upward. kissing him is always good -- but right now it feels like more than that, almost like an anchor keeping her in place. she begins to work on slipping her hands beneath his shirt. she just needs to feel more of him. the warmth of his body. the comfort of his slow heartbeat.)
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Kisses to express confusion and support, comfort if she'll have it.]
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(she'll take comfort in this manner, she's even craving it though she doesn't always know how to accept it very well. it's hard to discern the difference between empathy and pity sometimes -- and the last thing yennefer wants is anyone's pity.
so she takes each kiss with a mixture of ease and greed as her hands begin to explore the skin and scars beneath his shirt. she groans softly against his lips as the feel of him, that he's solid and real beneath her. whatever has been taken from her, she can still desire him, want him, feel him and care for him in her own way. that matters, right?)
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His hands move over her slowly, broad and strong, feeling out the shape of her hip, her thighs, reminding himself what she feels like. The warmth and the weight of her, solid and real across his body. She'd be so easy to pick up. To roll over. But he doesn't.
He strokes her and he returns those kisses, his hand slipping inside of her skirt to touch the smooth skin of her legs directly.]
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(she would have fought him on it, if he had tried to roll them over. she needs the sense of control right now, but luckily he seems to understand that. verbally they just make a mess of things with one another half the time, but when it comes to this they are often in sync.
a pleasant hum escapes her lips as she feels his hand slip beneath her skirt. it's enough and not enough all at the same time. which is why she reluctantly pulls away just enough to pull off her dress and discard it before she leans down to start kissing him again. she's not trying to rush things...she just wants to feel him directly on her, is all.)
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Yennefer's life hasn't made her soft.
When she comes back, he cups her cheek, her palm smoothing across her throat.]
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(she can't help but smirk a little as she feels his eyes trail over her body as she disrobes. no matter how many times they do this he always looks at her body as if it was the first time, and there's something thrilling about that.
she leans into his touch. his calloused fingers against the soft skin of her neck is always a welcome feeling. her fingers reach for his shirt again and this time she ends up just ripping it open without much care (she can always fix it or magic him up another one later) so she can get easier access to the scarred skin underneath.)
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Her breasts aren't far behind.
He knows it's artistry. He's even seen her as she was before magic perfected her. He'd been attracted to her then, too. It's not her flawlessness that makes her legs or her throat or her eyes so stunning. It's the fact they're hers. Though her eyes do have a special distinction...]
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(it may be artistry but that doesn't make it less of a true expression of herself -- after all she chose her features herself, which ones to keep and which ones to change. he'll know from meeting her as she was before that her eyes were one of the things she kept.
his touch was addicting. she always found herself craving more of it. but right now, it's more than that. tender. comforting. proof that she can still enjoy things for herself. a soft moan escapes her lips as she lifts her chin, giving him better access to her neck if he wants it too )
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If anyone is as afraid to lose Yennefer as she is herself, it would be him. But where Yennefer responds to that fear by tightening her grip, Geralt so afraid of losing that he seems to hesitate to hold on.
As though it will hurt less if he doesn't fight. If he tries to appreciate only what he has.
It doesn't work any better.]
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(his mouth feels hot against her skin in the best sort of way. she needs to be wanted right now, and it matters that it's him. she remembers on the mountain, before everything went to shit, how he admitted the worst moment when her smel left. even if he doesn't say it in words she can feel his need, the fear of her disappearing on him now.
her breath becomes a little shallower and she her hands explore his chest, as if trying to memorize each scar, to have something to remember and cling to in case this all does go to shit. )
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He imagines he can feel each of them under her fingers.]
Yen?
[He's not sure if he says her name for her or for himself, or what he's asking for, but her name is the only thing that comes.]
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(when he says her name she can't help but pull back just enough so that violet eyes can collide with golden ones. it's a mistake, leaving her feeling much more exposed than she did moments ago. it is more intimate than they've ever allowed themselves to be with one another -- at least the real them. she has plenty of false memories of intimacy. of things that resembled love making more than fucking.)
Yes?
(she doesn't know what he'll say, if anything, but she finds herself almost desperate to find out.)
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Stay.
[He mumbles the word.]
Stay with me tonight.
[It's a request and an invitation. An offer. Maybe a hope.]
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(she can't help but think about that night on the mountain, when he told her about how he dreaded the moment she left. being left with her smell. she remembers how shit everything went fairly quickly after that.
she also remembers a lifetime and marriage together, sharing the same bed night after night, never tiring of one another. the divide between the two memories is stark and leaves her torn. for a moment it feels almost like she can't breathe. she should get up. she should leave before this goes any further --
but she doesn't want to, is the thing. not really. not with how alone she feels already. maybe it's crueler to stay when she hasn't told him everything, when she might break his heart still -- but she never claimed to be anything more than who she is. and he knows she'll play cards close to her chest if it means survival. besides, it's a last resort. one that'll hopefully never matter.
she's probably quiet for a moment too long before she finally manages an answer.)
I'll stay.
(she wanted to anyways, if she's being honest.)
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