((Buhhh, sorry for how long it took to get this installment out. I got stuck for like a week on a fucking transition even though I know EXACTLY how I want the story to go. WRITING! *fistshake* As usual I got carried away and have this story outlined and plotted up to ep 64ish, SO. We're going to be here for the long haul kids. I'll probs add an AO3 link in a bit, bc if I don't simultaneously post it might be months before it ever sees the light of AO3.
“I feel...cruel,” Percy admits. “But in control. This is...controllable at the moment.”
He’s lying, but he isn’t. He is in control--but only just barely. And he’s not sure how long he can keep a hold on his already tenuous self-restraint, not when she’s this close.
Because he doesn’t just feel cruel. He feels like he wants to...to eat her alive.
And if it sounds horrifying, it’s because he feels horrifying. He’s no stranger to wanting Vex; he’s imagined having her in just about every way you can imagine, but he’s never felt this…unhinged before. His hands tremble with a desperate, almost violent urge to haul her up against him, to bury themselves in the dark fall of her hair. He wants to crush his mouth to hers and steal the breath from her lungs, strip her of her armor and clothes until she’s bare beneath him, wanting and writhing and his for the taking--
He wrenches his focus back into the moment before he can follow that train of thought to its inevitable conclusion, because she’s still here, still looking at him, her gaze piercing through him and he’s almost convinced she knows exactly what he’s imagining. The thought makes his blood run cold. It’s one thing for him to know it, but for her to look at him and see exactly the kind of monster he is...
“I’m fine, for now. I’ll let you know if--you’ll know if I’m not,” he continues, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. It quivers, despite his best efforts.
Her eyes narrow. “I will.” She fists the hand she’s been restraining him with into his lapel and drags him down until they’re eye-to-eye. “I do. Which is how I know you’re lying right now, Percival. So I’ll ask you one more time: are you all right?”
She ought not to have done that, Percy thinks distantly. If he thought she was too close before, she’s definitely too close right now. Her face is all that fills his vision: the dark wings of her brows drawn together in concern, her eyes fierce, cheeks flushed, and her lips so red and lush and tempting.
Percy wants.
Time seems to stretch and slow. Sound fades and a curious feeling steals over him, cresting over the rising tide of arousal. He doesn’t know how to describe it exactly. It feels like...like the instant before freefall, that swooping, trembling moment of uncertainty before it all crystallizes and there’s nothing left but the forward momentum, the point of no return.
She’s yours. Take it, Percival.
The world speeds back up. The wave crashes. The last flimsy thread of his self-control snaps and Percy surges forward, mouth crashing into hers. He dimly registers Vex’s squeak of surprise, the way she stiffens as he pushes one hand into the thick cloud of her hair, gripping the back of her head and tilting her face back as he presses his advantage. His other arm bands around her waist, pulling her into him, the hand she had fisted in his coat trapped between their bodies. She’s frozen in his arms, not yielding to his assault, but not resisting either.
He should stop. A part of him knows he should stop. She didn’t ask for this, the memories of grateful chaste pecks on the cheek aside. He is a thief, the worst kind of blackguard, and he can’t stop. Not now that he knows what it’s like to have her in his arms, her body pressed to his. Not now that he knows how the silken strands of her hair feel tangled in his fingers, the sensation rivaled only by the plushness of her lips against his own.
He really is a monster.
And then she comes to sudden blazing life in his embrace. She surges up to meet him with a muffled groan, mouth parting under his to kiss him back hungrily, the fingers of her free hand tunneling into the strands at the back of his head as if to keep him from pulling away. As if he would. He feels an answering groan rumble in his chest, and his hands--as if assured that she’ll stay right where she is and they no longer need to hold her in place--begin traveling ceaselessly over her, unable to settle, so greedy to memorize the feel of her.
Vex’s hands are busy as well, cupping his neck one moment, clutching at his shoulders the next, sliding over his chest, his back, fisting in his coat to drag him closer, closer. Sweet gods, there’s nothing else he wants more, but the difference in their heights makes it difficult. Vex is by no means a small woman, but he stands a good half foot taller than her and the angle at which he has to lean down to meet her, even on her tiptoes, is starting to get uncomfortable.
This won’t do.
He snags the backs of her thighs and lifts her without warning, turning to press her into the wall this time. She pulls away from his mouth to let out a gasp at the sudden change in position. He pins her there with his hips and chases her lips, unwilling to be parted from them for a second longer than necessary.
She welcomes his kiss with an approving purr, tightening her legs around him to lock him in place, arms crossing behind his neck.
This. This is what he’s wanted for so long. To be pressed so close to her he can feel her heartbeat thundering against his chest. To feel her clutching him tight with arms and legs like she can’t bear to be parted from him either.
The reality of this moment is so much better than all his fevered imaginings. The feel of her lips sliding warm and slick against his; the way she opens for him, letting their tongues tease and tangle. The smell of her, wild and woodsy, filling his nose. The sounds--dear god, the sounds--the urgent, needy little noises she makes going straight to his cock.
She breathes heat into him and Percy has never been so happy to burn. And for just a while, he forgets about the chronic chill that seems to have taken up permanent residence in his chest since they arrived in Whitestone--since before that if he’s honest.
He rocks against her, grinding his erection in the cradle between her thighs, savoring the hitching of her breathing, the noises it teases out of her and he--
”Something’s happening! Something’s happening in the sky!” Scanlan’s voice shrieks through their earrings and they startle back from each other. Panting, they stare at each other with wide eyes as the madness that had apparently taken them both evaporates and the reality of their situation comes crashing back into awareness.
They have a mansion to search. They have a rebellion to incite and the Briarwoods to face, just on the horizon. And Percy had...he’d--
Oh sweet Pelor, what has he done?
Percy all but drops Vex to the floor as he scrambles back, putting much needed distance between them and trying to set his clothing to rights with shaking hands as he does.
“I--Vex, forgive me, I...” He stutters and trails off. Vex is still partially slumped against the wall, face pale, staring at him with huge eyes and one hand pressed to her mouth in...shock? Disgust? Icy shame floods through him. He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out. What can he say? What can he possibly say to make this right?
Percy’s beginning to think they might spend the whole night staring at each other in wordless mortification when Keyleth’s voice comes over the earrings, urging them that it might be time to get going. He grabs onto her words like a lifeline.
“We should--” He gestures helplessly down the hall.
“Search the rooms, yes, I quite agree.” Vex’s words practically spill over each other, voice high and tight, as she straightens hastily, hands twitching nervously at her hair and her clothes. It doesn’t escape his notice how studiously she avoids meeting his eyes. A pang goes through him and he swallows it with bitter resignation. He deserves this pain and he well knows it.
He waits, fidgeting nervously, until she seems satisfied that she’s as put together as can be. By unspoken agreement, they set off together down the hall in silence, keeping a carefully measured distance between them.
Percy bites his lip and flexes his hands, willing himself not to dwell on the memory of the cool slide of her hair through his fingers or the heat of her mouth under his.
You’ve outdone yourself, de Rolo, he admonishes himself. You knew she was not for you, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? Now she knows. Now she knows exactly what you are and you’ve ruined it all before it could even begin.
He thinks all these things and more as he and Vex work together in painfully polite silence. The litany of vicious recriminations is only interrupted when he spots Vex casting him a probing look from under her lashes in his peripheral vision while he’s rummaging through the drawers of a desk. A thought, knowing and darkly satisfied, eels its way up from the depths, insinuating itself over the latest stream of mental invectives.
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timeasmymeasure
Demons, Desires, and Dark Sides (2/?)
Date: 2016-12-12 03:15 am (UTC)EDIT: AO3 link))
--------------
“I feel...cruel,” Percy admits. “But in control. This is...controllable at the moment.”
He’s lying, but he isn’t. He is in control--but only just barely. And he’s not sure how long he can keep a hold on his already tenuous self-restraint, not when she’s this close.
Because he doesn’t just feel cruel. He feels like he wants to...to eat her alive.
And if it sounds horrifying, it’s because he feels horrifying. He’s no stranger to wanting Vex; he’s imagined having her in just about every way you can imagine, but he’s never felt this…unhinged before. His hands tremble with a desperate, almost violent urge to haul her up against him, to bury themselves in the dark fall of her hair. He wants to crush his mouth to hers and steal the breath from her lungs, strip her of her armor and clothes until she’s bare beneath him, wanting and writhing and his for the taking--
He wrenches his focus back into the moment before he can follow that train of thought to its inevitable conclusion, because she’s still here, still looking at him, her gaze piercing through him and he’s almost convinced she knows exactly what he’s imagining. The thought makes his blood run cold. It’s one thing for him to know it, but for her to look at him and see exactly the kind of monster he is...
“I’m fine, for now. I’ll let you know if--you’ll know if I’m not,” he continues, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. It quivers, despite his best efforts.
Her eyes narrow. “I will.” She fists the hand she’s been restraining him with into his lapel and drags him down until they’re eye-to-eye. “I do. Which is how I know you’re lying right now, Percival. So I’ll ask you one more time: are you all right?”
She ought not to have done that, Percy thinks distantly. If he thought she was too close before, she’s definitely too close right now. Her face is all that fills his vision: the dark wings of her brows drawn together in concern, her eyes fierce, cheeks flushed, and her lips so red and lush and tempting.
Percy wants.
Time seems to stretch and slow. Sound fades and a curious feeling steals over him, cresting over the rising tide of arousal. He doesn’t know how to describe it exactly. It feels like...like the instant before freefall, that swooping, trembling moment of uncertainty before it all crystallizes and there’s nothing left but the forward momentum, the point of no return.
She’s yours. Take it, Percival.
The world speeds back up. The wave crashes. The last flimsy thread of his self-control snaps and Percy surges forward, mouth crashing into hers. He dimly registers Vex’s squeak of surprise, the way she stiffens as he pushes one hand into the thick cloud of her hair, gripping the back of her head and tilting her face back as he presses his advantage. His other arm bands around her waist, pulling her into him, the hand she had fisted in his coat trapped between their bodies. She’s frozen in his arms, not yielding to his assault, but not resisting either.
He should stop. A part of him knows he should stop. She didn’t ask for this, the memories of grateful chaste pecks on the cheek aside. He is a thief, the worst kind of blackguard, and he can’t stop. Not now that he knows what it’s like to have her in his arms, her body pressed to his. Not now that he knows how the silken strands of her hair feel tangled in his fingers, the sensation rivaled only by the plushness of her lips against his own.
He really is a monster.
And then she comes to sudden blazing life in his embrace. She surges up to meet him with a muffled groan, mouth parting under his to kiss him back hungrily, the fingers of her free hand tunneling into the strands at the back of his head as if to keep him from pulling away. As if he would. He feels an answering groan rumble in his chest, and his hands--as if assured that she’ll stay right where she is and they no longer need to hold her in place--begin traveling ceaselessly over her, unable to settle, so greedy to memorize the feel of her.
Vex’s hands are busy as well, cupping his neck one moment, clutching at his shoulders the next, sliding over his chest, his back, fisting in his coat to drag him closer, closer. Sweet gods, there’s nothing else he wants more, but the difference in their heights makes it difficult. Vex is by no means a small woman, but he stands a good half foot taller than her and the angle at which he has to lean down to meet her, even on her tiptoes, is starting to get uncomfortable.
This won’t do.
He snags the backs of her thighs and lifts her without warning, turning to press her into the wall this time. She pulls away from his mouth to let out a gasp at the sudden change in position. He pins her there with his hips and chases her lips, unwilling to be parted from them for a second longer than necessary.
She welcomes his kiss with an approving purr, tightening her legs around him to lock him in place, arms crossing behind his neck.
This. This is what he’s wanted for so long. To be pressed so close to her he can feel her heartbeat thundering against his chest. To feel her clutching him tight with arms and legs like she can’t bear to be parted from him either.
The reality of this moment is so much better than all his fevered imaginings. The feel of her lips sliding warm and slick against his; the way she opens for him, letting their tongues tease and tangle. The smell of her, wild and woodsy, filling his nose. The sounds--dear god, the sounds--the urgent, needy little noises she makes going straight to his cock.
She breathes heat into him and Percy has never been so happy to burn. And for just a while, he forgets about the chronic chill that seems to have taken up permanent residence in his chest since they arrived in Whitestone--since before that if he’s honest.
He rocks against her, grinding his erection in the cradle between her thighs, savoring the hitching of her breathing, the noises it teases out of her and he--
”Something’s happening! Something’s happening in the sky!” Scanlan’s voice shrieks through their earrings and they startle back from each other. Panting, they stare at each other with wide eyes as the madness that had apparently taken them both evaporates and the reality of their situation comes crashing back into awareness.
They have a mansion to search. They have a rebellion to incite and the Briarwoods to face, just on the horizon. And Percy had...he’d--
Oh sweet Pelor, what has he done?
Percy all but drops Vex to the floor as he scrambles back, putting much needed distance between them and trying to set his clothing to rights with shaking hands as he does.
“I--Vex, forgive me, I...” He stutters and trails off. Vex is still partially slumped against the wall, face pale, staring at him with huge eyes and one hand pressed to her mouth in...shock? Disgust? Icy shame floods through him. He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out. What can he say? What can he possibly say to make this right?
Percy’s beginning to think they might spend the whole night staring at each other in wordless mortification when Keyleth’s voice comes over the earrings, urging them that it might be time to get going. He grabs onto her words like a lifeline.
“We should--” He gestures helplessly down the hall.
“Search the rooms, yes, I quite agree.” Vex’s words practically spill over each other, voice high and tight, as she straightens hastily, hands twitching nervously at her hair and her clothes. It doesn’t escape his notice how studiously she avoids meeting his eyes. A pang goes through him and he swallows it with bitter resignation. He deserves this pain and he well knows it.
He waits, fidgeting nervously, until she seems satisfied that she’s as put together as can be. By unspoken agreement, they set off together down the hall in silence, keeping a carefully measured distance between them.
Percy bites his lip and flexes his hands, willing himself not to dwell on the memory of the cool slide of her hair through his fingers or the heat of her mouth under his.
You’ve outdone yourself, de Rolo, he admonishes himself. You knew she was not for you, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? Now she knows. Now she knows exactly what you are and you’ve ruined it all before it could even begin.
He thinks all these things and more as he and Vex work together in painfully polite silence. The litany of vicious recriminations is only interrupted when he spots Vex casting him a probing look from under her lashes in his peripheral vision while he’s rummaging through the drawers of a desk. A thought, knowing and darkly satisfied, eels its way up from the depths, insinuating itself over the latest stream of mental invectives.
But she kissed you back.