(hopefully im not late i was putting away groceries lol-)
Truly, holding a candle for the Warrior of Light was a test of self control. Given what he'd read regarding the various adventures and connections WoL had experienced prior to him forming the Crystarium, he'd known that he was not the only one holding a torch for the vaulted hero. Haurchefant, Aymeric, so on and so forth - he was one of many. Even when his feelings had been reciprocated, G'raha understood WoL was a target of the affection of many. But it was different when he was witnessed said affections day in and day out! Aymeric sending another invitation for dinner, a wink from Thancred, a poetic line from Urianger, Estinien doing something heroic before leaping away to avoid speaking on it further - even a clumsy flirtation in another language from Hancock! G'raha knows he's one of many, but try not to forget him among your sea of would-be suitors, okay..? (lime)
A century of life and yet G'raha found himself fidgeting like an adolscent.
The anxious swish of his tail, the stiff rigidity of his ears, the twitch of his fingers, all while he watched you bid farewell to an especially flustered-looking Koana, a meeting of goodwill now concluded. To maintain his own inner peace, he just minded that perhaps his green bespectacled counterpart's red cravat was a bit tighter than usual today rather than be caused by more amorous intentions.
And yet, the moment you appeared before him, your demeanor chipper, instinct won over experience.
His hand shot out first, his words in close pursuit.
"A thousand and more apologies for this shameless display. However--!"
He spoke in a rush, hurried by lovelorn affection, matched by the way his arms moved to circle around you in a tight embrace.
Your neck served as the perfect spot for him to bury his face in, heat blooming across his cheeks far more than the humid heat of Tural could cause, all as he confessed,
"--could you indulge my greed and allow me to be the only one who holds your attention, my dear?"
Look, I don’t think this would ever happen (if anything I think the two of them are/would be great buddies and would bond over their mutual love of the Warrior of Light/you), but I am a little obsessed with the idea of G’raha and Aymeric being so jealous of each other’s relationship with you that it births an intense rivalry between the two of them.
I’m talking childish levels of banter, one step away from the two of them grabbing either one of your arms and beginning a tug of war match. They would conceal their jealousy during any important meetings, when it’s time to work they are all business and decorum, too focused on trying to impress their hero with their prowess and tact to worry about what the other is doing. But afterwards, before the assembly splits up and everyone is just milling around sharing pleasantries? Oh, it’s on.
G’raha talking just a smidge too loudly about all the fun and exciting adventures he has gotten to share with you (and will continue to share with you far into the future), making sure Aymeric is within earshot so he can clearly hear each little intimate detail. Aymeric in turn excusing himself from whoever he is speaking with so he can interject into the conversation, standing just a little too close to you as he does so. He places his hand on the small of your back while he regales the party with tales of his time together with you, recanting with a fond twinkle in his eye all the time you spent together as you brought about the end of the Dragonsong War. He focused most of his time elaborating on the moments he spent alone with you and the greatness the two of you were able to achieve together, how well you both complimented each other.
They both get under each other’s skin so easily. G’raha is essentially living Aymeric’s dream life, getting to go on countless daring adventures all over the world (and beyond) with the person he treasures the most. And Aymeric intimately knows you in ways G’raha does not, as Aymeric has been a beloved companion and confidante in your life before G’raha even had a presence. For so long G’raha simply existed as an unreachable, detached entity from you, only able to dream of an eventual reunion (that on most days seemed like an unobtainable dream). He feels like he’s constantly playing catch up, while Aymeric consistently frets that he is being left behind. Both men know sides of their hero that the other does not, and both have experienced moments with you that the other will never share, and that gets to them.
Of course all the other scions notice this and tease them both about it mercilessly. Despite the heavy handedness of it all and their desire to always one up the other, both are always exhibiting remarkably good behavior around you to the point where you yourself are a little clueless as to the extent of this rivalry. And they work hard to keep it that way! No sense in looking like a fool in front or the person they love and admire the most, even if they are hell bent on being as petty as possible to each other behind the scenes to claim the top spot in your heart.
(Which is silly, you love and cherish both equally! :) No matter how much that impartiality may irritate them.)
*slides into askbox* i have arrived >:3 can i ask for haurchefant x wol (race being vague is a-ok, otherwise miqote pls >w>) where they do some friendly sparring and haurchefant is just horny on main the whole time? kinda soon-ish after helping him out so wol is still a bit ???? over it not being used to his Brand but won't even try to deny they're into it 🌸
Longer, saucier version here because I’m trash
Sparring with Haurchefant comes a bit as a surprise. It’s not as if he had ambushed you fresh off the teleport to Camp Dragonhead’s aetheryte, but declaring his intent to do chivalrous battle with you the moment you step into the camp’s grand hall is certainly close enough.
You’re a bit too distracted by how he looks and sounds to reject the offer outright–he laughs as he challenges you, claiming that you’ve been gone far too long, he needs to see if your skills are as good as they were before. It’s an excuse to get out of his chair and away from paperwork, you figure, and merely gaze upon his delighted expression as he all but vaults over his desk to drag you off.
So, to say the least, sparring with Haurchefant is not exactly what you intended on doing in your first ten minutes of arriving in the familiar Coerthas camp.
He moves faster than you assumed of him. There’s a grace to each strike, a power pressed forward without an ounce of restraint behind the sword and it comes at you with a swiftness that leaves your head nearly spinning. It’s a challenge to merely parry and dodge each strike let alone try to offer one in turn–the flurry of motions leave you and your sparring partner moving in what feels like an intricate dance, but to an outsider it appears to be but a game of cat and mouse–and the cat is the one losing.
It’s a warm day for the Coerthas Highlands, though it hardly means a thing when you feel as if your tail and ears are about to freeze right off of your body. It’s not as if you’re poorly dressed for the climate either–layers of clothing cover your body from head to toe–but it seems as if nothing can keep the chill from settling deep in your bones.
The cold proves rather distracting, at the very least; if not that, then the man trading blows with you certainly comes as a very close second, with how you see his body stretch and move with each cleave of his dulled blade towards you.
“You’ve gotten faster!” Haruchefant declares with mirth, sounding none too breathless despite the intricate dance of your bodies. “Not to say you weren’t quick before, dear friend–I daresay your combat skills are-”
You rush at him, taking the opening unveiled as he speaks with the slightest touch of guilt–he looks so happy in his words, pride unbound for you in way few others ever speak with.
But at least it’s quick, your body tackling into his chest and sending the both of you falling to the ground. There’s a dull thump as both of you hit the cold earth, you overtop Haurchefant’s body, and a sharper noise as his weapon clatters some yalms away.
For what feels like too many moments all you and the Elezen man do is stare at one another, blinking in your mutual surprise for separate reasons.
“Dear warrior of light,” he says, making a gesture with one hand and no move to neither get up or remove you from atop him. “If you had desire of me beneath you, all you need do is ask for the pleasure.”
You feel a rush of heat come to your cheeks as you realize the position is hardly innocent; your legs astride the other’s hips and your upper body hovering over him is certainly not a pose you wish to linger with. You deny any bubble of warmth elsewhere in your body and rather scramble up and onto your feet, then begin to brush off some dirt and snow from your knees in an attempt to act distracted.
“Do you have desire to continue sparring?” you ask, hoping to be swift about the change in subject, lest the two of you start talking about the moment just before. “Because as much as I’d love to, milord, I actually came to see you with a purpose.”
When you turn your eyes you see Haurchefant looking at you with crossed arms and a smile on his face, a glimmer of amusement and air of words unspoken words not easily missed.
“I did, after all, offer Dragonhead as a respite from your adventures and battles,” he muses softly. “Please take my apology, dear friend, I merely dragged you in my haste to be away from the paperwork piling upon my desk.”
Despite seeing him without his hauberk and plate armor, he’s still quite the imposing figure–the shape of his woolen jacket and pants seem to suit him rather well, in fact, though you try not to stare in any way you can’t argue is mere professional curiosity.
Haurchefant sighs, tugging you out of your thoughts, then takes approaches you with that same smile, soft and genuine, on his lips.
“Come then, let us enjoy the warm tidings of a hearth and a shared drink,” he gestured back towards the grand hall and began walking with expectation for you to follow. “I’m certain you’ve grown cold from our exhilarating exchange, so let’s see about warming you up, hm?”
It took a few moments for you to follow behind the Elezen, happy to take the offer of companionship, but silent on the fact that simply being close to him has already put a warmth in your chest. He is an odd man, but has already become a dear friend to you.
“Had fun with your friends, little princess?” He cornered you just out of the Scions’ line of sight, and earshot, or so you hoped. The dangerous proximity to those who would try to stop him hadn’t deterred Fandaniel at all; in fact, it seemed to further ignite the Emerald spark in his eyes, and the fire in his loins, as he drilled his cock into you feverishly and marked your neck with his teeth.
“Fly to the farthest stars if you wish, little bird, but never forget – So long as our miserable existence persists, you belong solely to me. ♡”
"If only they can see their valiant hero mewling so desperately at the hands of such a nefarious villain."
There was to be no peace in Dawn's Respite.
A push at the door from would give way to the sordid entanglement transpiring upon one of the nursing beds.
The salacious slapping of skin, creak of the mattress, whines swallowed back in a futile attempt of silence.
As you knew fully well, Fandaniel would give you no peace.
Instead, he would keep you pinned beneath him, subjected to the relentless barrage of his hips slamming down against yours, making sure that your core was stuffed to the brim with his cock.
When he wasn't staking his claim on your skin by the canines of his teeth, he was busy raving about, a hand laid over his sighing face in dramatized despair.
"I'm torn, my princess, I'm torn. I'd be so joyed to be open with our condemned affair to your dearest comrades! But on the other hand--"
Overexaggerated agony switched to burning, brilliant mania as quickly as his hand seized hold of your chin.
Maintaining his exuberance, he chimed out, "I will burn this world tenfold if they ever get to see this preciously debauched expression of yours."
As he continued to speak, his thumb swiped over your bottom lip, to which he could feel the flames of his envy temper upon seeing your mouth part open ever so in obedience, an invitation for him to plunge his finger inside.
Which he gladly accepted of course.
That didn't mean he was going to ease up the pace of his thrusts though.
Continuing to pound away into your sopping core, savoring the wet warmth of your tongue around his thumb, Fandaniel blissfully sighed out, "As I will happily remind you now and for all eternity, every bit of you is mine and I'll make my claim over and over and over ♡"
consummating your marriage to koana to help solidify relations between eorzea n tural ? you fell first/he fell harder + mating press por favor :3
The Vow of Reason had been feeling lost for some time.
What felt like eons ago, it all started beneath the gleaming brilliance of Tural's sun, amidst the lush tropical flora of Kozama'uka. While he strode forward as he guided Urianger and Thancred to their next destination, gloved hand tugging at his crimson cravat for some futile attempt at relieving the trapped heat beneath his collar, it was at that happenstance that his party encountered Wuk Lamat's entourage.
With you, her trusted partner in tow, of course.
As his ever boisterous sister went on about how the Rite of Succession had been coming along thus far, his eyes flickered over to where you stood by, your expression amused at her bombastic recollection.
While in retrospect that it made sense--what with instincts honed across the years to a near inhuman level--that your gaze would immediately shift to meet his with the realization that his attention was on yours, he found himself startled upon catching your stare.
Furthered even more by the wink you gave and the broadened quirk of your smile.
In that moment, cracks splintered upon the solidified foundations of of his reserved decorum, degrading further and further with the passing days.
With even further reflection in the future, he would chuckle fondly over thinking back to when he tried to apply rationality to the irrational feelings that were welling in his heart and boiling in his blood.
So what if your eyes met his? Your former companions of the Scions were right behind him, so perhaps you were just trying to catch the attention of Urianger or Thancred.
Taking time to speak with him specfiically whenever both of your respective parties happened to be finding respite at the same inn? Surely, you were only digging for more information to help Wuk Lamat further along to victory.
Peeling off his glove to compare your hand with his, fingers laced, palms pressed close together, your expression cheeky upon asking whether wearing such an accessory helps with his aim while the two of you stood together alone by a roaring campfire and beneath the glory of the night sky? W-What utter coincidence th-that always seems to follow whenever y-you're around him!
Koana tried so hard.
To not assume, to not dig too deep, to not get his hopes up.
But he failed.
Yet the result of his vain attempts eventually yielded a confession that came tumbling out while his eyes and hands locked with yours, once again beneath the gorgeous splendor of the night sky. Though instead of a campfire, it was atop Pinion's Reach, the hustle and bustle of Tuliyollal malms and malms away, unaware that their dear leader was in the midst of pouring out his heart with hot cheeks and the occasional bite and twist of his tongue.
But such flustering pains were well worth it, given that you were smiling from ear to ear while you confided in him that the affection he had for you was identical to the one you harbored for him.
The kiss you then shared--his bare hands cupping your cheeks, your arms hugging around his neck--would be the first of many. Sometimes countlessly while the two of you were nestled together in bed, other times singular yet deep with longing upon reuniting after months and even worlds apart.
Most recently--hours earlier to be exact--your lips met his once again, with his hands cradling your cheeks, albeit now with the soft cool touch of metal wrapped around his ring finger.
Tural's Vow of Reason and Eorzea's Champion.
A union meant to strengthen the relationship between your respective nations, a marriage meant to celebrate your love for one another.
And while Koana was more than certain that being wed to you was all he could ever want, he was once again grappling with his rationality, his decorum.
Because for as beautiful and ethereal you looked in your wedding dress, all he craved was to strip you bare and express his passion for you as thoroughly as he physically could.
He didn't need to say a word on this. Throughout the lively reception held at the palace courtyard, the way your eye winked at him while your tongue dragged along a creamy forkful of wedding cake, how your hand rested and squeezed his thigh while the two of you were seated at the head table as your friends, family and allies merrily kept the celebrations going--you were goading him into a maddening frenzy.
Simply because you wanted to bear the full brunt of it once he finally snapped.
And now, as your husband, who was he to deny the simple and earnest wish of his precious spouse?
The kind composed nature he maintained throughout the fanfare of your wedding day was lost the moment you both stepped foot into his quarters.
A smothering of lips, hurried yanks and tugs of wedding attire, desperation serving as guidance for fingers longing to touch, grab, and caress--from the door to the top of his bed, the two of you were as tangled as could be.
A rhythm of obscenely wet slaps filled the air, mingling with his breathless gaps and your euphoric cries.
Your thighs were kept wide apart, Koana having anchored himself right in-between, pining your body beneath the tremendous might of his hips barreling down onto yours, his cock plunging into your core over and over. While you knew your husband was certainly no pushover, even you were rather astonished by the sheer ferocity he exuded as he kept you stuffed full.
Not that you minded.
After all, seeing the burning intensity of his passion for you in his amethyst eyes while they were precious framed by his glasses--currently askew as result of him being relentless in his affection--this only served to remind you of the man you happily married.
As for Koana, while he continued to sink his cock into the hot slick depths of your core, being joined with you together like this, bodies pressed close together, hands clasped, lips locked, he looked forward to losing himself further in the precious love you had for him and him alone.
Once upon a time, you ventured into the woods, and found a handsome yet monstrous half-draconic man by the name of Thancred in a grove of beautiful white roses. He tells you that there’s a curse on him; he used to be human until he was kidnapped and cursed to serve the Dark Fae Lord Lahabrea. And the only way to break the curse is to endure a rigorous breeding session with him without letting go the entire time… (Fatebreaker monsterfucking, rough, mating press, breeding)
"When I'm properly freed, I promise to make it up to you--I was and am quite the charmer, you know!"
Those words were said to you with sincerity. A bit bashful--rather embarrassed to even approach you with quite the heavy ask.
But most of all, he wanted to make sure that his humanity (or at least whatever was still left) was conveyed.
Because Thancred knew once you began to ease his long-harbored burden, his actions towards you would eclipse anything of his mortal self.
It had been so long, too long since he was afflicted with the curse by that godsdamned Lahabrea that turned him into this wicked beast. Far were the days of charming and bedding beauties across the land--instead, he was to haunt the forest as its condemned phantom: the Fatebreaker.
So the very moment that his coarse grey fingers were able to touch your bare skin, any sense of willpower, any shred of restraint, all eviscerated in an instant.
Upon the very field of white roses where the two of you had your fateful encounter, he was as selfish and as primal as could be.
Clawed fingers groped at your breasts, hard hips barreled against your own, parched lips sought succor from yours, thick cock stuffed your sopping core full.
Ivory petals were scattered across the ground, stained even further by the splash of his sticky seed with every load he pumped into you, your legs kept spread wide and up in the air while he persisted on and on with pounding into you relentlessly, driven further by a base need to make you his.
Besides, once he had his humanity restored and he was freed from this blighted forest, he looked forward to fathering more children with you.
Once upon a time, there was a princess who was married to a prince. Neither of them were happy with this arrangement at first – The princess had a healthy sense of humor and would spend much of her time being entertained by her beloved court jester, as she found the prince, who was a man of very few words, awfully dull; meanwhile, the prince had little care for his royal duties and preferred the company of rivaling warriors than that of his new wife.
So miserable together were they, that they were unwilling to even share the same bed.
Still, the princess had no regrets, for as funny as she found her jester’s antics during the day, she enjoyed his company much more during the night. (love bites/marking, breeding, creampie)
"How amusing you are, princess~ Near the beloved prince of bloodstained gold, those darling lips of yours seem to be fixed in a frown."
Tracing his gloved thumb along your mouth, Fandaniel continued his observation with a chuckle, his dark eyes gleaming with their usual mischievousness just moments before seizing hold of your chin.
"However--"
At that single word, his hips slammed down onto yours, eliciting a divine cry from you that almost made him spill his seed into your core immediately.
Though, it wouldn't have been the first within this particular night, as evidenced by how much of his cum had pooled beneath you upon your mattress--that which had only seen the presence of the two of you, certainly never that of your so-called betrothed. If you weren't set to bear his children after this, he would be quite surprised.
But it would just give him even more reasons to keep you locked away in your room, your attention and your body for him to seize hold of and possess.
Grinning with wicked glee at the thought, he only intensified the tempo of his thrusts, fueled forward by the obscene noise of his skin slapping against yours.
As he watched your expression contort with pleasure--so unbecoming of someone of your elevated status--he licked his lips as he ranted further with,
"--near me and me alone, they are the most expressive! Whether precious laughter spills forth or as they part wantonly, shamelessly in sweet desperation, you spoil me with your emotions!"
Feeling your walls squeeze around his cock in response, he grinned from ear to ear, right as his eyes fell by your neck. Though your skin was already marred in red by how many marks his teeth had already left, you weren't vandalized enough in his perspective.
Bending forward, he readied to sink his teeth into your neck once more, but not before declaring,
"So come now, come for me, princess--allow this humble jester to turn your frown upside down!"
Once upon a time, after tumbling through a gate to the past, you found yourself surrounded by a civilization of giants. Everything and everyone so far exceeded your size that you were left completely defenseless. Luckily for you, the young giant who spotted you, Themis, couldn't turn a blind eye to your plight. Whisked away into the palm of his hand, you were taken to your new home. Everything you ever needed thus far was provided selflessly-- but you can't help but worry over this new one. 1/2
Despite only being the size of his thumb, perhaps you and your new love could find some creative ways to meet this new need of yours? (Micro/Macro, teasing, man handling, orgasm denial, questionable breeding kink) 2/2
Was this mere curiosity or a clawing infatuation?
It was a question that had lingered in Themis's mind as of late, having taken root the moment his hand had extended forward, his fingertips curling in a welcoming beckon as he had you--no bigger than a doll --approach and sit right upon his palm.
While this initial gesture, this proposal to offer you sanctuary in this era lost to the ages, was pure in its intention, what was currently transpiring with you was anything but.
In the time since your first meeting, Themis found joy in getting to know and understand you better.
And certainly, he was still gaining deeper insight into your personality, your likes and such, but as he continued to observe with focused eyes and a slack jaw, he was quickly becoming familiar with what pleasures you most.
Your clothes having been discarded--thanks to his offered if not eager assistance--he continued to gain hands-on experience with your delights as his fingers proceeded on with roaming over your nude body.
By your permission, he touched you as he pleased, gingerly prodding over your breasts with his thumb, delicately brushing his knuckle right in-between your thighs, testing how much teasing you could endure until you were begging for more, all while savoring the slickness that greeted his skin along with the whines of his name from your lips.
Though he carried on his ministrations with refined composure, he could feel his self-restraint tested at its most intense when he initially brought the back of his hand towards his lips to lick it clean, only to hear your whimpered plea for more.
Upon obliging, he felt his breath catch as he watched you immediately latch around his middle finger, your arms and legs hugging around it while you proceeded to grind your sopping core against him for some highly sought-after friction.
His mind raced, his heart fluttered from your wanton display as he felt desire seize and claw at its very form.
This neediness was meant for him and him alone.
Was it not right, correct even to claim you as thoroughly as he could?
The thought of your form--always so preciously petite within his hands--grown heavy and round with his child.
A dizzyingly hot blush bloomed across his pale cheeks as he felt his cock ache and throb harshly beneath the heavy smooth fabric of his robes.
Would coating you with his seed be enough? Perhaps having you grind your core along the leaking tip of his dick even.
Or just simply having either of you match sizes before having your way with one another--though he felt torn, greedy even at wanting to try both in needy pursuit of having your body on his, to fully savor your warmth against his bare skin.
Regardless of forms, means of touching--whatever it was, as long as it was you, he was happy to indulge.
It was a foreign feeling, one that he never expected to feel, especially with such a precious, wondrous little thing such as yourself.
A smile soon tugged on his pink lips, his blue eyes twinkling as he mused out loud, "Ah, how clearly I understand things now."
At your curiosity, he chuckled gently, opting to instead bend his head forward, bringing his lips to kiss upon your nude form with loving devotion.
