Her little body racked against his and he let out a low groan, not knowing what to do with this damp snivelling version of the badass girl he was used to. The one he was in love with. Her breath came in ragged heaves and he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he shifted her to rest on his hip. Like a parent with their toddler. He tried to ignore the parallel as he cradled her with one arm and hurried towards the least damaged looking house. It took some effort to carry both her and their gear but he managed it with a silent determination as she let out soft noises, still crying.
He kicked open the door and threw their packs onto the stained couch before closing the door and sliding down it until he was on the floor. She looked up at him with wide eyes shining and it was like his tongue turned to ash in his mouth. He was not a man of words. She needed something, and he knew that, but he had no idea what. What could he do with this woman, who looked like the lost kid she had when they’d first begun to travel together? Words swam in his head but he couldn’t quite grasp onto any and form them into anything fitting. What do you say to someone who just watched their dad die? Comforting the bereaved was never anything he’d had to do.
She felt drained. Bereft. It was like nothing she’d felt before. Like a rusty knife twisting in her gut, slowly pulling out her innards. Charon looked lost and she knew he didn’t know what to do with her, but neither did she. His hands soothed her, rubbing along her spine, but he needed to do something else. Fighting for the words to say, he opened his mouth and closed it several times as she cried softly, looking up at him occasionally.
With nothing else to do, he pressed his lips to her temple, which soon turned into him peppering her whole face with soft, chaste kisses. She held his face in her hands and pulled him into a desperate kiss. As always, the rough texture of his lips and tongue gave her goosebumps and she kissed him like her life depended on it. Teeth nipped at lips, and his hand knotted in her hair, tugging it and earning a sigh from her. If the blood hadn’t been rushing south from his head, he might have questioned if it was right to do this today. But as it was, he was getting more and more aroused by the second and all he wanted to do was bury himself in her and hopefully make her forget for just a few moments.
Isadora refused to think about it. It wasn’t the right time for these whispers of love and ravenous kisses but she needed it. He gave a low growl as she climbed into his lap, straddling him against the door. His fingers fumbled with the zip of her armour, eventually managing to work it low enough to be able to free her breasts. She was pressing kisses along his jawline, tasting his salty skin and exposed muscle.
“Is…” he groaned into her hair, tweaking one of her hard nipples.
She ground her hips down on him and felt the familiar swell of his erection pressing against her insistently. Her throat still burned from the tears, but it was forgotten when he pulled her hair to snap her head back so that he could attach his lips and teeth to her neck. It sent shivers down her spine right down into her groin and she let out a hiss when he nipped her collarbone. She shrugged out of her armour and pressed herself tight to him, adoring the way his rough flesh rubbed her raw.
F!LW/Charon "Grief" 1c/?
He kicked open the door and threw their packs onto the stained couch before closing the door and sliding down it until he was on the floor. She looked up at him with wide eyes shining and it was like his tongue turned to ash in his mouth. He was not a man of words. She needed something, and he knew that, but he had no idea what. What could he do with this woman, who looked like the lost kid she had when they’d first begun to travel together? Words swam in his head but he couldn’t quite grasp onto any and form them into anything fitting. What do you say to someone who just watched their dad die? Comforting the bereaved was never anything he’d had to do.
She felt drained. Bereft. It was like nothing she’d felt before. Like a rusty knife twisting in her gut, slowly pulling out her innards. Charon looked lost and she knew he didn’t know what to do with her, but neither did she. His hands soothed her, rubbing along her spine, but he needed to do something else. Fighting for the words to say, he opened his mouth and closed it several times as she cried softly, looking up at him occasionally.
With nothing else to do, he pressed his lips to her temple, which soon turned into him peppering her whole face with soft, chaste kisses. She held his face in her hands and pulled him into a desperate kiss. As always, the rough texture of his lips and tongue gave her goosebumps and she kissed him like her life depended on it. Teeth nipped at lips, and his hand knotted in her hair, tugging it and earning a sigh from her. If the blood hadn’t been rushing south from his head, he might have questioned if it was right to do this today. But as it was, he was getting more and more aroused by the second and all he wanted to do was bury himself in her and hopefully make her forget for just a few moments.
Isadora refused to think about it. It wasn’t the right time for these whispers of love and ravenous kisses but she needed it. He gave a low growl as she climbed into his lap, straddling him against the door. His fingers fumbled with the zip of her armour, eventually managing to work it low enough to be able to free her breasts. She was pressing kisses along his jawline, tasting his salty skin and exposed muscle.
“Is…” he groaned into her hair, tweaking one of her hard nipples.
She ground her hips down on him and felt the familiar swell of his erection pressing against her insistently. Her throat still burned from the tears, but it was forgotten when he pulled her hair to snap her head back so that he could attach his lips and teeth to her neck. It sent shivers down her spine right down into her groin and she let out a hiss when he nipped her collarbone. She shrugged out of her armour and pressed herself tight to him, adoring the way his rough flesh rubbed her raw.