[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.)
[She's quiet long enough that Geralt almost takes it back, an awkward anticipation dripping down the back of his neck as he starts to expect her to leave. Worrying that he chased her off by trying to hold on.
The words are in his mouth when she agrees. Even knowing it isn't an easy choice for her, that her reactions are probably as messy and fraught as his own, that answer still gives him a sense of relief.
He nods then. Talking isn't what he's ever been best at anyway.
Another kiss will be good enough for no, cupping her cheek and reeling her in.]
(she kisses him back with no hesitance, parting her lips as an invitation. this was so much easier than trying to express all of the mixed up fraught emotions inside of her. she had been scared she took too long to answer, that he'd take back the request, but he doesn't. communication has never been either one of their strong points, it's almost impressive they managed to use words as much as they did. that improvement, right? or maybe just remnants of the versions of them who told each other everything. maybe a bit of both.)
[Verbal communication is exhausting to some degree. Or maybe Geralt is just exhausted with it. He doesn't know what to say or how to say it to express his reactions. He doesn't even know that it's his place to say it. He's not the one in danger. Probably Yennefer doesn't need to manage his feelings about that in addition to his own.
Instead he wraps his arms around her, strong and as confident as he can make them, and pulls her down on his chest. He kisses her hungrily, clearly hard in the confines of his pants as he arches toward her heat.]
(it wouldn't hurt to know he was worried that he cared. she knows...but it'd be nice to hear it. not that she would ever say that. she feels like she's exposed herself too much already. verbal communication truly can be exhausting.
besides, she can feel how much he wants her, wants to keep her here with him when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her down to his chest. she kisses him back with equal fervor as her hand sneaks between them to begin unlacing his pants so she can pull his hardened cock out, wrapping her hand around him. as much as she enjoys teasing him she doesn't think she'll be able to keep it up for long this time. her own need is too great.)
[Geralt breathes in a soft gasp when she touches him, her hands tantalizing around his hot cock. He arches into her hand, unwilling to let go of her to push his pants down further.
This is good enough for now.
He doesn't have words to encourage her, but the sounds he does make are encouragement.]
(the sounds, the grunts and groans escaping his lips, are more than enough encouragement for her. her hand begins to pump him, just a few times before she removes her hand so she can start working on stripping herself of her underclothes. normally she might take longer teasing him, drawing it out, but what she craves right now more than anything else is closeness.)
[In a way, this feels a bit more like them. Like the old them, before Hellburbia and Barbas's magic and their whole fake life together. It's the old haste, less romantically tender.
In another way, it's new, something grown out of Hell and their strange pain.
Which is also to say that Geralt shares her urgency, pulling her over him, into position over his cock.]
[Geralt grunts softly in response, bracing his body under her and savoring the closeness as she envelops him.
The kiss is welcome, his hand threading through her hair to pull her closer. As much as he tries to follow her lead, he can't hide his hunger for her.]
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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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The words are in his mouth when she agrees. Even knowing it isn't an easy choice for her, that her reactions are probably as messy and fraught as his own, that answer still gives him a sense of relief.
He nods then. Talking isn't what he's ever been best at anyway.
Another kiss will be good enough for no, cupping her cheek and reeling her in.]
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(she kisses him back with no hesitance, parting her lips as an invitation. this was so much easier than trying to express all of the mixed up fraught emotions inside of her. she had been scared she took too long to answer, that he'd take back the request, but he doesn't. communication has never been either one of their strong points, it's almost impressive they managed to use words as much as they did. that improvement, right? or maybe just remnants of the versions of them who told each other everything. maybe a bit of both.)
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Instead he wraps his arms around her, strong and as confident as he can make them, and pulls her down on his chest. He kisses her hungrily, clearly hard in the confines of his pants as he arches toward her heat.]
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(it wouldn't hurt to know he was worried that he cared. she knows...but it'd be nice to hear it. not that she would ever say that. she feels like she's exposed herself too much already. verbal communication truly can be exhausting.
besides, she can feel how much he wants her, wants to keep her here with him when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her down to his chest. she kisses him back with equal fervor as her hand sneaks between them to begin unlacing his pants so she can pull his hardened cock out, wrapping her hand around him. as much as she enjoys teasing him she doesn't think she'll be able to keep it up for long this time. her own need is too great.)
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This is good enough for now.
He doesn't have words to encourage her, but the sounds he does make are encouragement.]
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(the sounds, the grunts and groans escaping his lips, are more than enough encouragement for her. her hand begins to pump him, just a few times before she removes her hand so she can start working on stripping herself of her underclothes. normally she might take longer teasing him, drawing it out, but what she craves right now more than anything else is closeness.)
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In another way, it's new, something grown out of Hell and their strange pain.
Which is also to say that Geralt shares her urgency, pulling her over him, into position over his cock.]
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(it's old and new all the same. the old haste infused with the newer intimacy, the promise to stay after, to not just run once it's over.
so when he pulls her down over him she can't help but lean in to capture his lips again as she sinks down on his cock, moaning as she does so.)
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The kiss is welcome, his hand threading through her hair to pull her closer. As much as he tries to follow her lead, he can't hide his hunger for her.]
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