do you know what your scent reminds me of? @sylure - Tumblr Blog

── ❦. Armonia | Blade x f!reader

─ ❧ GENRE: smut, pw/op

─ ❧ READ WITH CARE: mdni, semi-public indecency, dry humping, handjob, edging, shifting power dynamics, banter, marking, somewhat of a brat enabler Blade (he has a lot of patience for once)

─ ❧ WORD COUNT: 5.1k (I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IM SORRY)

𖤝 PREMISE: restraint and longing are Blade's dearest companions, but something about the warmth of the mountain springs and the heated passion of his lover's touch unravels him faster than he might have ever anticipated

Thick steam wafts slowly across the surface of the hot spring, crafting a curtain of allure that blurs the edges of the mountain surroundings and hides the inn behind dark silhouettes underneath the night sky.

The entire world feels far away here in this near forgotten place, which is barely more than a refuge for people trying to catch a break.

Far from the endless cycle of violence that follows Blade like a curse, far from the constant ache buried beneath his ribs, far from the exhaustion that settles into his bones whenever memory turns its claws on him again, he relaxes in the natural minerals that embrace his weary bones almost as tenderly as his lover could... if only she was here.

The spring is quiet except for the soft overflow of water spilling from the rocks and the distant rustle of wind through pine branches. Here, he sits submerged beneath the heat with his eyes half lidded and one arm stretched lazily along the edge behind him.

His damp hair clings to the lines of his throat and collarbones, while droplets of water trace slowly over scarred skin before disappearing beneath the surface. Though his expression remains unreadable in that familiar way of his, there is something distinctively softer about him tonight—as well as a thick layer of impatience.

Yet that doesn't mean his senses have grown mellow. He still hears you long before you enter the spring, that familiar sound of your movement announces your (late) arrival. Blade also registers the telltale hitch in your breathing as the heat of the water reaches you, as well as the rustle of thin fabric shifting against your skin.

However, he does not turn immediately despite the way every sense of his focuses on your approach.

He tells himself he is unaffected, that he has simply grown accustomed to your presence after travelling together for so long without interruption. Yet the moment your scent reaches him through the steam and unwelcome distance, the first of many locks inside him loosens with an humiliating ease.

Warmth spreads low in his chest before he can entirely register what is happening, causing his fingers to flex once against the edge of the spring. After another, intentional moment of avoiding you, does he slowly glance toward your shape from beneath dark lashes.

For one suspended moment he devours the view you spoil him with while your figure emerges through the drifting mist as you pause near the edge of the spring.

Suddenly, you feel more aware of yourself beneath his attention despite all the confidence you usually carry. The chemise, which hugs your body, is thin enough to feel indecent under his stare even before the water touches it. It is concealing and revealing in equal measure, and you almost regret choosing it at all… almost.

But then you become aware of how intensely Blade notices you. To anyone else he may seem unchanged, but you have been with him long enough to notice the gentle flex of his jaw and the flustered way his gaze flicks across the water's surface. He acts as if he has no interest in looking at you at all, which only makes the truth far more obvious and amusing.

"You're avoiding me," you murmur eventually, and try your hardest to cover your own nerves behind a thick layer of teasing confidence despite the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

"You took long enough," he replies instead, in a voice that is almost too smooth. Blade's gaze shifts at the darkened sky with maddening composure while entirely unwilling to acknowledge the accusation, though the slight roughness beneath his tone betrays him anyway.

The first step into the spring sends warmth curling around your ankles and calves immediately, which eases a soft breath from your lungs as the heat seeps into your body. Chased away is the the cool mountain air with every step you take, but the stone beneath the water is smoother than expected and your balance falters briefly.

Before you can steady yourself, Blade lifts one hand toward you through the steam without even looking directly at you. As much as he may feign disinterest beautifully, he still offers you everything all at once. The gesture feels so natural that it reveals how caring he can be under all the gruff layers.

Your fingers slide into his palm, and his grip tightens instinctively around your hand with a warm and certain hold the moment your skin touches his. It is then that Blade finally looks at you properly, now that you descend further into the spring. This time he fails to conceal the way his stare clings to your curves as the water soaks through the thin fabric instantly.

His eyes flick downward before returning quickly to your face as if he resents his own lack of control, but it is already too late. The view is seared into his mind; how the chemise clings to every curve of yours, outlining your body while a single droplet slides slowly along your throat and collarbone.

To him it feels like another eternity has passed until you finally settled beside him in the water, close enough for your shoulders to almost touch while the spring envelops you completely in a soothing heat. For a long while neither of you speak at all, you can't even remember the last exchange before silence became your closest companion.

Yet, the sound of silence has never frightened you with Blade; these moments have never felt empty. Rather, they are rich with the tells of his breathing, the awkward shift of his body, and eventually a curiosity when he feels safe.

Steam drifts between your bodies while the scent of cedar and salty minerals wraps itself around you both, and little by little you begin closing the distance yourself. Your knee brushes against his first beneath the water, then your shoulder nudges his in the most innocent of touches. Were it not for the accidental graze of your fingers against his own, Blade might have ignored all your cues entirely.

But instead, you receive a reaction, however subtle it may be since Blade seems to freeze further. Until you turn your palm upward beneath the water, an offering without words that his eyes understand now that he gazes toward the movement before they lift up slowly back to your face.

There is always hesitation with him when tenderness is at play. Not that he means to reject you, but rather that intimacy requires him to surrender to something much more scary. As though he still cannot understand why softness continues reaching for him despite all his sharp and ruined angles.

Yet after a pause that stretches long enough, his fingers finally slide against yours and intertwine carefully beneath the water. The contact draws a slow breath from him that he tries unsuccessfully to hide thanks to the comforting notes of your scent that have begun to mix with the steam of the hot spring.

"You look tired," barely more than a soft murmur while you trace your thumb along his knuckles. Blade's lashes begin to feel heavy at the faint touch, his body instinctively seeks more of you rather than the hard stone.

"I'm always tired." He tries to sound dismissive as per usual, but his hand feels impossibly warm despite the spring as it lightly squeezes yours even at the tough act he wants to upkeep.

"That's not what I mean." A gust of air sings between the cedar trees as silence follows before Blade exhales through his nose, not quite amused and not quite resigned either. "You notice too much."

"I'd rather call it... that I only have eyes for you." It's another one of your playful attempts to loosen the tightly wounded knots around his heart, and sometimes, like tonight, it works.

Blade's gaze shifts toward you again with that familiar unreadable intensity that always causes your pulse to stumble once he arches a brow at you.

In these unguarded, private moments Blade has the habit of looking at you like someone who is trying very hard not to need something; trying very hard not to want someone.

So you lean in closer, in careful stages, since rushing won't ever do you any good with this Blade. Eventually, your shoulder presses fully against his, and your free hand rises slowly to brush a damp strand of dark hair away from his face.

Blade closes his eyes for the briefest second at the contact before reopening them again, yet he looks at you much softer now.

"You don't have to act unaffected with me," you whisper while allowing your fingertips to linger against his temple. "We play this game every time where you try your hardest to convince me that you don't want things. I know you want things."

Blade sighs softly at that, and the first response he can offer is a gentled headbutt in a flustered attempt to get you off his case. But you don't cease, you press, you cradle, you care. Which causes Blade's jaw to faintly tighten before responding with honesty. "Every time we touch, every time I want, I wait for things to end badly."

"Not this," you resist softly, with such honesty that Blade has to wonder where you find the audacity to trust in him so much. "I can promise you this won't end badly," another insistence of yours that tugs at the corner of Blade's mouth.

He turns his face slightly into your touch before seeming to realise what he is doing, and the restraint that snaps right back into its place makes you ache for him even more. It's like playing cat and mouse, though the cat doesn't realise it's a predator.

"If I didn't know you any bettter, I would assume you to be fishing for compliments," you go on while tenderly pushing your fingertip against Blade's cheek. "I'm not-" He begins, only for you to continue."You make me feel good," a quiet confession, because your voice feels nearly drowned out by the sound of water moving around the rocks. "Wanted. Safe. Happy." Your fingers drift lower against his jaw. "I wish you would stop behaving like wanting me is something shameful."

Blade stares at you in silence after that, he seems almost offended at the choice of your words.

You watch the conflict move behind his eyes while your thumb strokes slowly across his cheekbone, and eventually his hand leaves yours beneath the water only to settle against your waist instead. Large fingers spread over the soaked fabric clinging to your body before tightening gradually, to pull you closer between his spread knees until the warmth of him surrounds you entirely.

"Shameful? Is this your way of provoking me tonight?" He wonders in a soft murmur. Your mouth stretches into a small grin before you simply dare to giggle right into death's face. "Yes, apparently only drastic measures work with you."

Blade exhales close to a laugh before his eyes flick briefly toward your lips. His restraint hangs by threads now, you can confirm as much through every lingering touch, every prolonged stare, every measured breath against your skin.

So you kiss him first. Kiss him slowly, so sweetly which would allow him to pull away if he wishes so. But he never does—once you're in, he is falling.

The sound Blade makes when your lips meet is lithe enough to disappear beneath the steam, yet you feel it vibrate through his chest as one arm slides firmly around your waist and the other lifts toward the back of your neck.

Then he is kissing you in response, his infamous restrain unravels second by second the longer you remain pressed up against him. Each slow give of his mouth against yours grows heavier with all the wanting Blade usually buries beneath silence every day. His fingers flex against you through the fabric of your chemise while your own hands drift over his shoulders and throat, where they trace scarred skin and discover old tales.

You lose count of how many times your mouths meet. The only thing you are certain of is that Blade follows you whenever you part slightly for a breath of air while he greeds for more kisses, more touches, more you.

"Needy," you whisper against his lips eventually, yet your tone is covered in honey, decadently drenched with affection more than teasing. Blade opens his eyes just enough to fix you with a deep look that utterly fails to conceal how affected he is. "This is your fault," nothing more than a wanting rasp whispered against your lips since he already seeks you out again.

"Whatever happened to your restraint?" You whisper then as you deny him the kiss by leaning back, only for his hand to tighten warningly at your nape. The gesture causes a soft laugh to bubble from your throat.

Blade's forehead lowers briefly against yours, in a way that leads to an intimacy which nearly steals the breath from your lungs entirely. You feel him exhale slowly against your mouth before his hands finally guide you fully into his lap until you straddle him.

The heat appears to increase once your thighs settle against his own beneath the water. Now, your soaked clothes cling between your bodies while Blade leans back slightly over the stone edge of the spring to look up at you properly.

A fierce surge of unparalleled want rises through you at the beautiful sight painted in front of you: He looks so full of want and strange surrender beneath you. Damp and dishevelled hair frames his face, while kiss-swollen lips beckon for further attention as unbearably gentle eyes swallow you whole.

Your fingers drift slowly along the scars crossing his shoulders and chest, where his palms roam your body with increasing confidence as they slide over your hips and waist in attempt to memorise the shape of you through soaked fabric and heated skin alike.

It is then that you kiss him again. Again. And again. Every kiss slower than the last, deeper than the last, until the world beyond the spring disappears entirely thanks to the overwhelming lust overtaking every flicker of doubt.

The pressure of his hands, the warmth of his mouth, the subtle shift of his breathing whenever your hips move unconsciously against his beneath the water makes restraint seem like a folly.

In a moment where his lips are inhabited, Blade's head tips back briefly at one particular movement before he catches himself. Though you saw the moan he swallowed thickly, felt the dig of his fingers as they clung to your thighs… and you definitely feel the growing hardness insisting on your attention.

"There you are," you breathe so light like cotton candy and smile so sweetly against his jaw as embarrassment finally flickers across his features for the briefest moment. "You enjoy this too much." Oh, how Blade tries to make his voice sound like a warning, but it's gentled down now, mellow from his desires he always attempts to keep in check until the last minute.

"And you are cute when you lose composure." You whisper the words with nothing short of unbridled adoration; yet how come such words drive a man into madness? Blade lets out another low exhale that nearly resembles laughter before one hand slides upward along your spine beneath your wet hair, pulling you flush against his chest until your heartbeat presses directly against his own.

Heat blooms immediately between your bodies now that there is no defence zone to remain while your thighs spread wider across his lap. When your hips shift instinctively against him this time, the reaction you draw from him is impossible to miss. A rough breath catches low in his throat, one that you feel much more rather than hear it since Blade is an expert at stifling his sounds against the curve of your neck.

Here, he presses slow lingering kisses against damp skin that make your entire body melt into him without resistance. The sensation of his lips against your pulse feels unbearably intimate in the drifting steam and mountain silence, while his hands worship your body with a hunger that becomes harder to conceal.

Though the truth spills from him in dozens of tiny betrayals once you learn where to look. The slight furrow appearing between his brows whenever your nails scrape along his shoulders and back, or the way his eyes lower whenever you praise him too sincerely. His entire body grows still when you hold him gently, as if part of him still cannot believe tenderness remains aimed at him.

You can feel him wanting more. Feel it in the way his grip tightens whenever your hips shift against his; feel it in the way he breathes your name against your skin. Then he kisses you once more with enough longing behind it to leave both of you breathless.

The spring grows hotter the longer you remain tangled together, though perhaps it only feels that way because Blade has finally stopped pretending he is unaffected by you.

His hands no longer hesitate when they settle along your waist, and his mouth no longer pulls away quite so quickly after kissing you. Even his gaze changes little by little beneath the lantern glow, growing heavier each time your hips grind against the heavy bulge hidden underneath the soaked towel wrapped around his waist.

Though the sweetest indulgence of all is how terribly responsive Blade is to softness. Every time your fingers comb through the damp strands at the nape of his neck, every time your lips brush slowly against the corner of his mouth, and every time your eyes lock with his, you feel his hands tighten around you in silent demand for more.

The final nail in Blade's coffin is the moment your hand settles lower beneath the surface. His stomach tightens sharply beneath your fingertips while the muscles along his thighs tense underneath yours, and suddenly the restraint he has been clinging to all evening is nothing but a frighteningly fragile memory.

Sudden, crude touches have never unravelled Blade. No, what does it for him is the slow, certain descend of your hand—the only hands whose touch he welcomes. At least with you he can be a glutton, greedy to feel your touch all over while your mouth continues kissing him with unbearable gentleness, as if you are comforting him and teasing him apart all at once.

Your hips have been rolling against his lap for several minutes now, the soaked fabric trapped between you doing absolutely nothing to lessen the sensation. Every slow drag downward has him swallowing sharply. Every careless grind of your hips pulls another strained breath from him. The water disguises how desperately his body responds to you, but not completely, at least not from you.

Then, finally, the mask slips entirely as his fingers dig into your hips, firm enough to still your movements for one suspended second. His lashes flutter lower as one hand clamps hard against your waist, and the other braces against the stone edge behind him like he suddenly requires the support.

You feel him growing harder beneath the heat of the spring every time you shift against him, feel the subtle jerk of his hips whenever your body presses too perfectly into his. And now your hand is making matters worse—much worse.

But you would be insane to let him retreat now, not when he is this affected. No, you chase him, you lean in over his body and press your breasts flush against his chest as your lips find his all over again. "So responsive," you whisper over his lips rather than kissing him once more, unable to help the smile that pulls at your mouth.

Blade opens his eyes just enough to fix you with a stare that might have felt intimidating if his hands were not still clutching you with such obvious need. "You enjoy provoking me."

"You make it so easy tonight." Shot back too soon, too sure of yourself which causes him to smirk in response as pure want flickers in his body. "Brat," he breathes out before the clashing of your lips as a soft sound escapes him then, indecisive whether it be exasperation or reluctant amusement, but you feel the tension inside his body loosen another fraction.

Blade rarely laughs outright, but moments like this come close enough to feel precious. You brush your nose gently against his before kissing him all over again, this time slower to savour the way he immediately follows your mouth when you attempt to pull away again. He cannot help it anymore, cannot keep himself from bucking his hips against your willing hand as the wanting in him has risen too close to the surface.

He drops his forehead heavily against your shoulder while your fingers curl more purposely around his girth beneath the water. A rough sound leaves him then, low and strained and startlingly vulnerable compared to his usual nature.

He is trying so hard not to lose himself; proven in the unsteady grip against your waist, in the uneven rhythm of his breathing against your throat, in the visible effort it takes for him not to move helplessly into your touch.

"You're trembling," you note too casually as you speak softly into his damp hair. "It's cold outside," Blade mutters hoarsely against your skin, though the words lose all sharpness when his hips betray him with an involuntary thrust beneath the water.

He makes you chuckle against his temple as affection spills through your chest at the terrible excuse. "Liar." But you kiss him all the same before he can retreat behind embarrassment, while your hand continues to pump along his erection with agonising patience.

Blade melts into the kiss instantly, his mouth parting against yours with a rough inhale before he suddenly takes over control. His hands roam your body almost desperately, to squeeze your ass and slide the drenched fabric of your chemise further up your hips like he needs to feel you whole, right inside this very open space of the hot spring.

Spread deeper over his lap, the movement presses you directly against him for heat to shoot through both of you at once. A breathless gasp slips from your throat this time, now that your hips rock more fully against the prominent hardness trapped between your bodies, and Blade nearly breaks apart from it.

His eyes shut tight while the friction turns messy quickly after those slow rolling movements become deeper without either of you consciously deciding it. Your thighs tighten against Blade's lap while his hands guide your hips helplessly against him again and again.

"You feel too good," he breathes eventually, his voice carrying a roughened cadence that makes you wish he were to always sound like that. "Stop feeling so good, stop moving like that," Blade tries so hard to regain his mind, his composure, under your relentless kisses as your mouths continue meeting between words.

Which only makes teasing him even more irresistible. You shift against him again, slower this time, to bring a strained breath forward while his hands flex hard against your thighs, trying (and failing) to steady either of you properly.

"Careful," he warns quietly, though the word sounds entirely too wrecked already. "You say that," you murmur while brushing your lips along his jaw, "but you're the one holding me down in your lap. You want this even more than I do."

The statement dissolves into another low sound when your fingertips threaten to undo the knot of his towel the same moment your hips grind down into his lap again. One trembling exhale leaves him then, and his head tips back far enough to expose the long line of his throat to you entirely.

He looks beautiful like this; ruined by softness, ravished by wanting.

Unable to resist, you kiss along his throat, while his hips jerk once more beneath you despite all his attempts. Blade curses softly under his breath, though the sound gives way for another ragged inhale when you suck gently at the pulse beneath his jaw.

"You're cruel tonight." A grin spreads slowly across your mouth at the accusation because he sounds genuinely overwhelmed, his usual composure reduced to shaky breaths and grasping hands. "You're really that close?" you whisper against his skin with obvious delight, and Blade opens his eyes just enough to glare at you through visible embarrassment.

"You have your hand wrapped around me. How do you expect me not to be close?" He spends so much of his existence holding himself together through sheer force alone that witnessing him unravel willingly inside your arms feels intimate in a way words could never capture.

"And?" You seem entirely unbothered though, almost coaxing in the way you wait for him to fill the rest of the sentence as you give him another, generous grind of your hips.

Blade exhales sharply at that, as a faint flush finally appears high across his cheeks beneath the lantern light. "And you keep grinding against me like you want me to lose control," his eyes narrow at you with wounded dignity.

"You're adorable tonight," you murmur before kissing him again, so faint he is not sure if it truly happened. "All desperate."

"Watch yourself. I am not desperate." The great terrifying Stellaron Hunter sits half-submerged in steaming water while growing visibly more flustered because you called him adorable, or maybe it was the way you said desperate.

You cannot help the soft laugh slipping free against his mouth and Blade actually groans afterwards, dragging one hand down over his face briefly while his chest rises and falls harder than before. "Don't laugh at me."

You kiss him before he can regret saying it aloud. Though this collision is messy, needy, wilder as your fingers cling to damp hair while Blade nips on your lower lip, while his tongue conquers that filthy mouth of yours, and his intent steals your thoughts.

Too much happens at once, to the point it is hard to tell apart instigator from victim. One moment he, once again, encourages the grind of your hips as he moans into your mouth and bucks his heavy length up into you, before he just as suddenly forces your movements to still completely. His fingers are firm at your waist now that he presses his forehead against yours and exhales shakily through his nose.

"Enough," he mutters eventually, yet his voice still sounds wrecked. Blade is trying to regain control, trying very, very hard to the point you cannot find pity within you. "If you continue, this ends badly for me," he adds to get the message across, "and you."

"Ow," you whisper but the chuckles make it impossible to appear compassionate. "That sensitive?"

Blade lets out a low groan before lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes again, visibly struggling to steady himself while steam clings to his lashes and damp hair shadows his expression. "You need to stop."

"You don't sound very convincing." You brush your nose gently against his, while smiling so sweetly it only makes his expression grow more tortured.

"We are in public." The strained seriousness in his voice only causes the devil in you to do its worst. "There's nobody here," You sound so smug, so sure to get away with driving Blade to the brink of madness with your constant grinding and how nicely, very nicely, your fingers pump his length.

"There are rooms directly above us." He looks genuinely torn now, caught somewhere between desire and self-restraint while your fingers remain trapped gently inside his grip beneath the water.

"But you're not stopping me, not really," you whisper near victoriously. Blade's composure has unravelled so thoroughly that even his usual sharpness appears softened around the edges, buried beneath warmth and embarrassment and the terrible realisation that you know exactly how much power you hold over him tonight.

"You are enjoying this far too much," he mutters against your throat while closing his eyes briefly since the sound of your laughter alone might undo him all together. Then he exhales slowly before releasing your wrist beneath the water, but his hand immediately settles possessively at your waist again.

"Because you're cute when you're overwhelmed," a whisper filled with enough love it causes Blade to slowly open his eyes again. Successfully lured out of his spot, he locks you down with a stare that is more dilated pupils than anything else. The embarrassment remains, yes, but it has shifted after being teased so thoroughly.

The sight of him makes desire curl through you all over again, with damp hair falling into his eyes and lips swollen from kissing, while his cheeks remain flushed from how close you pushed him in the water.

"You won't be laughing later," he warns quietly, but before you can respond properly, Blade catches your mouth in another kiss and drags you flush against him again. One final slow grind of his hips against yours pulls matching breaths from both of you then as you feel exactly how hard it is for him to stop here.

How badly he wants to let go beneath your hands and mouth and praise. Yet somehow he manages it anyway, burying his face briefly against your neck anew while his breathing steadies little by little against your skin.

"You're insufferable," he murmurs, though his hands refuse to let you go. "And you love me." The statement calls for a pause, before his response almost disappears beneath the sound of the lapping water. "Enough to let you get away with this once," Blade answers against your mouth.

Once.

Your pulse stumbles instantly beneath his threat, but you would be caught in a web of lies were you to confess your regret over the torture inside the hot springs. Never has he ever let you get away with mischief close to the level of tonight, which makes this all the more precious.

Blade brushes one final kiss against your mouth before deciding. "We should go inside." The way he says it leaves very little room for misunderstanding, causing you to smile immediately despite the heat rushing through you. "Finally giving in?"

One of his hands slides slowly along your thigh beneath the water while his eyes remain fixed on yours. "You've spent the entire evening provoking me," he murmurs. "You can deal with the consequences."

Anticipation spreads through your body at the sound of his promise, and at the thought of the night that waits ahead. Blade appears almost playful beneath all that lingering restraint, loosened enough by affection and longing that a lightness finally peeks through the cracks.

You kiss him once more before his hands slide slowly down your thighs, where he lifts you carefully from his lap despite your soft protest. The moment you stand from the water, the soaked chemise clings transparently enough to your body that Blade visibly loses his train of thought for a second time that evening.

His eyes drag slowly over you before he exhales sharply through his nose and looks away with obvious effort. You cannot help your grin, cannot stop judging how cute he appears to be tonight. Before all that cuteness vanishes as the sudden predatory grace to his movement when he reaches for your hand to throw you over his shoulder and carry you inside your room.

Not a hint of that flustered man from the hot springs remained ever since.

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do you know what your scent reminds me of?