digitizedsouls | (psl) so now my dear it's just a matter of time

[Despite the rocky start of the evening due to Balthus's well-meaning idiocy, right now everything about the situation is perfect. The door slams open with a satisfying thunk--hopefully it won't be the only thing he slams around tonight, she can't help but think--and the feel of his face against her skin sends a spark of electricity down her spine. She laughs, a joyful noise tinged with something a bit more carnal.]

They should be jealous. I've managed to snag myself quite a catch.

[Seductive flirtation aside, she means that in ways beyond just the physical. She leans in to punctuate that sentiment with a brief kiss, barely pulling back when their lips part.]

As much fun as an audience would be, I don't want to share you tonight.

Hell yeah, it's not everyone who gets to brag about being with brawling royalty!

[Well, actually, quite a few people in the past— he knows it's the same for Hilda, neither one of them is exactly pure as the driven snow, but it's still different this time around. His remark is bordering on flippant, but there's a rasp to his voice that makes it very clear his attitude about all of this is anything but.

The kiss stills him; he halts his progress towards his room so that he can return it in kind, really enjoy the moment as he parts his lips beneath hers and letting out a soft, breathless chuckle when the kiss breaks.]

Promise, I'm all yours.

[And not just tonight— not by a longshot. He wouldn't threaten to punch himself out for just anyone.

He chases after her lips to steal another kiss before he shifts her weight against him, renewing his hold as he resumes the trek to his room. Before long, the familiar row of doorways leading to various dormitory rooms shows up on their right, and he grins as they slow to a stop in front of the one he's claimed.]

Do we risk kickin' this one off its hinges?

[That could be problematic, but look. He knows she's into the door-slamming.]

["I'm all yours."

Hilda feels her heart soar with those words, spoken softly with a smile into her lips. Even if she knows she'll be a demanding partner--she's self-aware, if nothing else--at the end of the day, all she really needs from him is that devotion. It's only fair, since he has hers.

(Their feelings are going to overflow whether they want them to or not, it seems.)

Whatever pithy response she might have given in any other situation dies before it can even take form, and is buried when he leans in to kiss her again. She doesn't mourn it, instead, letting herself be entirely consumed by the rush that comes with his mouth on hers. This is better than getting the last word.

Once they arrive at Balthus's dorm--too soon and not soon enough--Hilda leans back a bit in response to his question.]

We should probably be a bit gentler to this door. I've got it.

[She clings to one of his shoulders as she reaches down to fumble for the doorknob. It takes a few moments, and the whole enterprise is far from graceful in its execution, but eventually she finds the knob, gives it a twist, and swings the door open behind her.]

There.

[His breath catches as he does his best to support her while she leans down, exposing the long line of her neck to him in the process— he can't resist leaning in and pressing an open kiss against it, his breath teasing against her skin, but the moment the door is open, he collects himself and hefts her across the threshold.

They've waited more than long enough already, haven't they?]

Perfect.

[He grins, using one foot to nudge the door closed again behind them once he awkwardly shuffles them through— he's still big, after all, and while carrying her, it takes a little bit of maneuvering to get them through the door— and drops a hand just long enough to lock it.

It hits him all over again that they really are doing this for real, and he can feel his grin growing wider in the process as he carries her towards the bed, stealing another heated kiss on the way, each one growing heavier and more insistent. The bed is standard-issue, but considering how close they plan to be?

He thinks it'll be big enough.

Fortunately, the rest of the room isn't much to talk about— which means no messes or stray items to distract her or send her Full Goneril.]

Sorry it isn't fancy, or anything...

[He knows how much she likes pretty things.]

[The touch of his lips on her neck delays her ability to get the door open, causing her to briefly claw at the wood of the door in her fumbling. Whether or not Balthus noticed doens't matter--certainly he's picked up on the effect he's having on her even without that umpteenth clue.

There's something endearing and exciting about the repositioning required to fit through the door and lock it behind them, and Hilda finds herself laughing when he pulls her in for another deep, perfect kiss. This is happening, really happening, and part of her feels completely giddy with the repeated realization of it. It's been a long time pining and dancing around the obvious in the name of larger, more pressing matters. What a wonderful world that they live in now where they can just be together.

The bed he carries her to only needs to fit him--she'll be under or on top of him before too long. A quick glance down at it confirms that they'll be just fine in that regard.]

I'm going to be honest here. I don't care about anything in this room right now except for you.

[She hasn't even looked at it, to be honest. She'd much rather keep her eyes on him.

Finally, reluctantly, she unwinds her legs from around his waist and returns her feet to the ground. The first article of clothing, if it can be called that, is immediately done away with: she removes the clip from her hair, letting it flow freely down over her shoulders and back.]

Yes, ma'am.

[How does she always say just the right thing? The smile he gives her in return is strangely bashful— it almost looks out of place on him, but he helps her on her way to the floor, making sure she touches down gently before he reluctantly releases his hold on her waist.

It's only for a minute, he reminds himself— and as much as he wants to help undress her, it's probably good that they're each taking a moment to get the ball rolling. His eyes are fixed on her without question as she lets her hair down; he watches it cascade down her back as he pulls his own gauntlets off, one after the other, tossing them aside to fall heavily to the floor. He can always pick them up later, but he wants his hands free now.]

Save some for me, yeah?

[He grins, moving close again so that he can reach behind her start tugging at the lacing of her bodice, pulling her loosely against his chest in the process.]

No fun if you do it all yourself.

[The way Balthus's eyes remain on her after he helps her down, looking at her like she's the entire world, brings a bit of a flush to her cheeks. How much he clearly adores her isn't a surprise, exactly, but she's never seen it so nakedly in his expression before. It stirs something in her, soft and wonderful, and she finds herself wishing that she will get to see his face like this much more often.

His experience as a lady's man (a deserved title, if hyperbolized) means that his hands know exactly what they're doing when he reaches for the lacing of her bodice.]

I'd never dream of denying you, Baltie.

[Her voice is much more tender than even she herself expects it to be. Look at him, making her be all mushy despite her bets efforts. She rests a hand on the exposed part in the middle of his chest, enjoying the warmth and strength she finds there.]

But only if you do the same for me, okay?

[There will definitely be many, many opportunities for her to see him like this again— especially if he has anything to say about it. She may be heading home soon, but it's not forever, and who's to say he won't follow right after? Where else does he have to be that's more important than by her side?

Experienced as his touch is, it manages to be soft despite his face, and he gives her his broadest grin in response as he pulls her bodice loose and holds it out to one side, dropping it on a nearby chair— she'd never forgive him if he dropped her clothes on the floor, he's willing to bet.]

Promise. Besides, it's better that way.

[More excuses to touch and explore, even if they don't really need excuses. That doesn't keep it from being exciting, and he can feel his skin burning hot and eager beneath the spread of her hand.]

Hmm. Boots next.

[With that, he hoists her upwards again and sets her down on the bed, matter-of-fact as he can manage.]

[She'd love nothing else for him to follow her back to Goneril Territory, especially after what they're sharing here tonight. It's certainly not a matter of if they'll reunite, but a matter of when. Hopefully, it won't be too long.

His careful approach to discarding her clothing earns him a nod of approval, and she leans up to press a soft kiss in the space between her thumb and forefinger on his chest.]

Good.

[She starts to ask him to turn around and give her easier access to the buckles that hold his belt in place, but he has other plans--literally sweeping her off her feet and setting her onto the bed. A yelp of surprise rises out of her chest, followed quickly by a peel of honestly-delighted laughter. She's about as strong as he is, but the difference in their sizes makes it so easy for him to fling her around like this. It's a fun bonus of being with him, she's quickly realizing.

She looks forward to several more such realizations.]

I didn't realize this meant you were going to take everything off of me before I get my hands on you.

[From the way she's smiling up at him, she doesn't mind this development in the slightest.]

Well—

[He laughs warmly, reaching up to ruffle his own hair with one hand.]

We could take turns, if you like. Keep it fair. But first, boots.

[Hers are certainly tall enough that if they wait too long to take them off, it's only going to get more cumbersome, and if he's being perfectly honest, he's in a big hurry to get tangled up in one another— enough so that they might not get everything off before he caves. Time will tell.

Gently popping open the fastening at her thigh, he takes hold of one of her boots at the heel, gently grabbing hold of her ankle before giving it a tug, beginning the careful process of freeing her.]

Damn, how do you put these things on every morning? Not that I'm complaining. They're— [He pauses to clear his throat, his face coloring a little.] They're real nice.

[He may have known where that clasp was because he's spent a not insignificant time staring at her legs.]

We don't have to take turns if you're in a hurry to see me without my clothes, Baltie.

[She's teasing, both in the traditional sense and in a very, very sexual one. If his imagination is anything like hers, it's a thought that's been running through his mind for quite awhile. Impatience is licking at her same as it is him, but if it makes him happy she can wait a bit longer.

There's something downright luxurious about Balthus removing her boots, and for neither the first nor last time tonight Hilda thinks about how easy it would be to get used to this.]

Trust me, it's a much less pleasant process than getting them off.

[Her smile grows a touch wicked, and she adds:]

If you really like them that much, I'm sure I could be convinced to wear them and nothing else for you sometime.

[That tease is purely sexual. Look, he should know what he's getting into, falling into bed with her.]

[For a moment, every part of him freezes, his eyes locked on her as he struggles to process what it is she just offered. It may have been off-handed teasing, but the image it conjures is very, very strong— and just as tempting.

His eyes are suddenly wide enough that it looks like they might actually be in danger of falling out of his head, smile pulling broadly to one side.]

Y-yeah? You really think so?

[Clearly someone is really into the idea. Gods, she could walk all over him and he'd be a happy man— the kind of power she has over his heart and all the rest of him is all-consuming. He's been in deep for a good, long while now, and he knows it.

He shakes his head to bring himself back into the moment, managing to get her first boot off and setting it aside before he turns his attention to the other, using the same careful, measured movements to do so, unable to take his eyes off her all the while.]

If I'm bein' honest, you'd be drop-dead gorgeous in anything.

[Or nothing. They're getting there, though.]

[Oh, he really likes the idea. Hilda will absolutely keep that thought in mind.]

Considering the look on your face, I don't think I'd have the heart to say "no" now.

[She's being a bit flippant, but every shift of his expression throughout this is going to do much to occupy her mind during lonely nights while they're apart. The blend of surprise, devotion, and unfiltered want in his eyes causes something deep and warm within her to bubble up a little further. Her gaze never leaves him, shifting between his face and the deft movement of his hands. Surely, her expression as she watches him isn't that different from his.

After all, she's fallen just as hard. They're leaning hard into the lust of it all--and there is no shortage of that--but there's another equally-important l-word involved in all of this.]

I know. [If he thought she was going to be demure about the compliment, then he's taken one too many blows to the head.] And you're just as stunning. We are going to make a very attractive pair, you and me.

[... She really likes the sound of those last three words.]

[How is it that she can say all that without missing a beat? Not that he's going to argue with any of it— she's absolutely right, of course, the two of them make quite a pair by pretty much every possibly definition, but there's a level of apprehension he still can't shake. No, not the right word— it's not like he's worried about what comes next, he's definitely looking forward to it and is extremely confident in his abilities, it just feels—

Big. In a really, really great way.

He sets her boots aside, moving to kneel over her on the bed so he can close in for another heavy kiss, willing to pause in getting rid of their clothing for the opportunity to touch again. One knee comes to rest on either side of her hips; he dwarfs her in size, parting his lips to steal a taste.]

No kidding. Gonna turn heads wherever we go, huh?

[Really, they do that already. They've been a pair for awhile, even if they haven't quite been honest with themselves about it.

He leans back so that his weight is on his heels, his grin remaining.]

Feel like taking a turn?

Edited (I broke my html :c ) 2021-09-29 01:22 (UTC)

[Hilda's a smooth talker, but that doesn't take away from the fact that she's feeling a lot of the same things that he is. For all that he's impressed with what she's able to say, she's equally blown away by how much he communicates without saying a damn thing. The firmness with which he pulls off her boots, the careful way he sets them aside, the look in his eyes as he crawls over her and settles his weight over her and kisses her in just that way...

Goddess, if he pinned her down then and there and had his way with her, she'd let him.

The moment is over too soon, and this time it's her who needs a few moments to collect her thoughts before she's able to respond.]

...yeah, I think that's a good idea.

[She shifts her position, crawling over and stealing another kiss--lips parted, tongue running lightly over his bottom lip--before she wraps her arms around him to work the buckles that hold his belt onto him. It would be easier to do this if he turned around, but she doesn't want him to. She wants to press close, face pressed against his chest and body flush against his.

After a few moments of fighting with it, she gets the straps open and the ridiculously-oversized accessory off of him. For now, she sets it next to her on the bed as she leans in to take care of a much more important clasp: the one that holds his ~~ye olde jock strap~~ groin guard in place. She has a much easier time releasing that, allowing the leather strap to fall and allow the guard to hang loosely rather than flush against him.

She pointedly looks down, noticing the way it shifts now that it's free, and looks back up at him with a grin and a gleam in her eye.]

I'm sure that feels better.

Edited (I found like three typos :c) 2021-09-29 06:50 (UTC)

[That kiss is met by a soft moan of approval that turns into a low rumble at the back of his throat; her tongue against his lower lip is impossible to ignore, and he goes to deepen the kiss on his own terms just before it breaks out of necessity— she'll need to be able to maneuver some to get his clothes off, which means being parted continues to be a necessary evil.

They'll make up for it soon enough.

He draws in a deep breath as she presses herself flush against him, and burying his face against her hair to take in the scent of her as she does battle with those stubborn straps. Of course, she's met with success— he'd never doubted that— and he feels a distinct sense of relieve wash over him as his protective gear comes loose and leaves him more room to breathe, among other things.

He clears his throat at her pointed comment, his face flushing all over again as he gives her a sheepish smile.]

Yeah, ah—

[Well, it's not like it's a secret how men's bodies work.]

Least there's no doubting how damn happy I am to be here, yeah?

[And he is— he really, really is.]

[Hilda laughs, her reaction not nearly as pointed as her comment before. Balthus's sheepishness is so endearingly out of character for him, which makes sense given the enormity of the moment. All the same, she still finds herself wanting to reassure him, to let him know that there's no way he could disappoint her here, that his desire is everything that she wants and needs right now.

He knows that. Of course he knows that. But she wants to say it to him all the same, just in case.]

No, there's no doubting that.

[She pulls herself up onto her knees, kneeling up so that she can cup his face in her hands and look him in the eyes. It's easy to get lost in them, but she forces herself to focus.]

You aren't the only one who's happy to finally be here like this. I...

[Want you.

Need you.

Will follow you anywhere.]

I love you, Balthus. You know that, don't you?

So, please relax. This is supposed to be fun, and I promise that there's no reason to be bashful with me. [After a pause, her face flushes a bit deeper--although she doesn't shy away at all.] Trust me, I've dreamt of moments like this and much, much more.

Edited (Hilda, in fact, has two knees and not just one) 2021-09-30 18:37 (UTC)

[Even now, after all this time, she manages to surprise him— it's not that Hilda isn't capable of being genuine, but she hides it away from most people. She speaks her mind openly and bluntly, so it would be misleading to say she wasn't straightforward, but things like this? Feelings, the real stuff?

It hits him hard, every single time, and now moreso than ever. She's said a lot of things over the years that have touched or stirred something in him, let him know how she feels without actually saying it straight out, but this...

He's never seen or heard her like this before.

Even as the color of her face deepens, he manages to tear his gaze away from hers long enough to lean in and kiss her hard, his face still held between her hands as he brings one of his own to rest against her hip, the other cradling the back of her neck so that he can kiss her until the need for breath forces him to stop. Even then, he doesn't pull away, just presses their foreheads together and grins the biggest grin he's ever managed.]

I love you, too. So yeah— I know. But I don't hate to hear it.

[He'll say it plenty himself, too.

Also:]

—did you call me 'Balthus'?

[The way he kisses her is heavy and passionate and perfect, and Hilda has no issue kissing him back in kind. By saying the words aloud, they've crossed some kind of threshold. It felt real enough before, but it feels even moreso now. His reaction more or less seals the deal. They're intertwined, him and her, into perpetuity.

Goddess, she's so excited by the possbility.

When they finally break to breathe, Hilda finds herself breathless and grinning ear to ear. He says that he loves her too, which is no surprise but still causes some part of her to soar even higher. She runs her thumbs over his cheeks, the gesture tender rather than hungry. They'll get back to the sexy stuff in a minute. Right now, it's time for Feelings.]

Yeah, I did. Don't get used to it. It just seemed appropriate in the moment, given what a big deal that statement is and all.

[She nuzzles his nose against his, unable to restrain her affection.]

Would it feel better if I don't? Because I love you, Baltie.

[Maaaaaybe she's just looking for an excuse to say it again.]

Just took me by surprise, that's all.

[Given the state of his smile and the heat of his touch against her skin, it's not as though he disapproves, but when she says it again, he laughs, leaning in to steal another kiss— this one lingering, but not quite as heavy as the one before, if only because he's in a hurry to get out of the rest of his clothes. They're starting to feel more and more restrictive by the moment, which is impressive, considering how little they actually cover in places.]

I'm never gonna get tired of hearing that.

[If she was looking for an excuse, he'll be glad to give her plenty.

He starts to shrug his way out of his brawler's harness, his hand breaking away from her hip long enough to make room for it to slide down the length of his arm.]

Thinkin' about what else I wanna hear, too— gonna need a lot less clothes for that.

Good, because I'm not going to get tired of saying it.

[If anything, she has to make up for lost time in not saying it to him for various reasons.

Goddess, his laughter and good nature are so infectious. Hilda kisses him back, a task made only a little difficult by the way she can't wipe the smile off her face. When he releases her to start removing his harness, Hilda sits back on her heels and begins the process of pulling her dress off. The strappiness of the top part makes it a somewhat delicate process, and as much as she loves this man she doesn't exactly trust him not to rip it apart. She's lost enough clothing to war and bloodshed; while losing some to love and passion is much, much nicer, she'd rather avoid it if she can.

She leans around him to toss the discarded garment onto the chair. Once that's accomplished, she sits back in earnest and looks up at him, dressed only in stockings and underthings. Her exposed skin is covered in scars that she wishes weren't there, some still red with recency and others having faded to a paler color. With other partners, this is the part where she has to swallow back to the urge to remind them that she's been through a war and please let's just pretend that her skin is smooth and unmarked like it was five years ago before everything went to the abyss thanks to powder keg that had been simmering for far longer than anyone realized.

With Balthus, the scars just are. The thought to try and excuse or minimize them doesn't even cross her mind, and even if it did she'd be able to quickly dismiss it. She knows Balthus well enough to know that he won't care--or, if he does, he'll consider them badges of honor and a testament to her continued survival. Besides, he probably has more of them than she does, and she's sure she won't find him any less breathtaking for it when he finally gets his damn clothes off.

Speaking of which, she's in a very nice vantage point to watch him do it right about now.]

Is that so? What if I'm disapprovingly quiet in bed, hm?

[She barely gets the words out before she laughs again. Her? Quiet? Please.]

Edited (added a couple sentences) 2021-10-04 22:47 (UTC)

[His head is turned away from her as she poses that particular question, but she can probably imagine the grin he's continuing to wear as he lets out a snort of laughter in response, shedding the last of his upper-body gear and dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. He'll deal with it later— and while he would have taken care to be more delicate with her clothes, he's not that worried about his own.]

Am I gonna get in trouble if I say I wouldn't believe that for a second?

[Maybe, but he says it anyway. They both know who they are— and to be perfectly honest, there's nothing she could do that he would disapprove of at this point. Maybe he has her on a pedestal, but he believes with every fiber of his being that she deserves to be there.

He kicks his boots off and lets them join his harness, turning back towards her with only his pants left to deal with. He freezes midway through reaching for them, his gaze arrested for a long, long moment before he lets it roam with open and obvious appreciation.]

Hilda, you look...

[She's perfect. He doesn't even notice the scars; they're a part of her, a mark of everything she's been through— much of it, events they had been through together, and it's clear they give him no pause. He easily has twice as many. His face flushes a deep red as he struggles to find his voice again, swallowing hard.]

Wow.

You wound me, Baltie.

[Her feelings are clearly hurt, given the way she giggles as she speaks. In another circumstance, Balthus could be in trouble for the clapback. But this is too pleasant, the banter too easy and charming to discourage. There's a sense of comfort and familiarity in it, since it's not all that different from how they carry on in other circumstances.

Hilda props herself up on her elbows and watches with rapt attention as Balthus peels off his own layers, appreciating the view as more and more of his body is revealed in the process. This isn't the first time she's seen him dressed down like this, but the sight hits her differently given what they're working toward. He's magnificent, taut muscles under skin, and it takes more willpower than she'd care to admit to stop herself from getting up and running her hands all over him.

She blushes deeply when he stops and takes the opportunity to really look at her, his gaze appraising and approving. It seems they're in agreement on their appreciation of the other's bodies.

Not that it's much of a surprise. They've been stealing glances at each other for what feels like ages.]

I could say the same.

[With a smile, she beckons.]

Come here so I can have a better look at you.

[And touch. And taste.]

Don't have to tell me twice.

[Goddess, was it even possible for him to grin even wider than he already was? He doesn't think so, but it sure feels like it as he joins her on the bed— almost too eagerly, nearly missing the edge of the mattress with his knee and narrowly missing a stumble before he catches himself with one hand.

He leans into that little misstep, planting that knee beside her hip so he can bend down for another open-mouthed kiss, hungry and searching. The hand that isn't propping him up comes to rest against the side of her neck before trailing down over her shoulder, gently tugging at the strap of her undergarments with one finger before he slides his palm over one breast to cup it, kissing her insistently all the while until he has no choice but to break for breath.]

Better? Close enough for you to get a real eyeful?

[It's going to be affectionate teasing all the way down with these two.]

[The stumble causes Hilda to raise her hands in order to catch him if necessary, but he manages to catch himself first. After a few moments of stillness, she plays it cool by placing her hands on his chest as if that were the intent all along. Whether he buys it or not doesn't matter--it's not like letting her hands roam over his skin is a hardship. He's strong, and warm, and other wonderful things that she's sure she would have thought of had he not distracted her with that kiss.

No matter. Kissing is better than thinking right now.

She hums her approval into his mouth when he pulls on the fabric of her bra and cups a breast in his hand. It fits way too well, as if they were made to press together like this. Perfect.

In response, she reaches up with one hand and buries it into his hair. It's way too long these days, but for once Hilda finds herself grateful for the curly locks rather than annoyed by them. All right, she'll concede that the longer hair has its perks.]

Much better.

[Even as she catches her breath, she presses soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline as she returns the affectionate teasing in kind.]

I notice you couldn't help but get a handful while you're here~

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I spent an uncomfortable amount of time staring at this man's ass and crotch while writing this tag

some people would commit atrocities for the pleasure

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