alexandre & océane 》you're underestimating my imagination
Story: RPG Storyverse (relationship & situation are generally canon, scene might not be)
Genre: Romance with hints of spice? Romantic prelude to spice? Idk man
Rating: 18+
Characters: Alexandre & fool_with_dream's Océane
Prompt: from this fucked up kissing meme
CN: Kissing, touching, general physical intimacy; hints of nudity; vague hints at captivity and Océane being the traumatized zombie girl she typically is lol
Author's Note: No comment, just my precious babies getting the romantically spicy break they deserve (by rightfully disrespecting Avien’s space, ayyy)
a kiss when it’s not allowed
You can’t waste your time on love, my dear. Not right now. Not when you’re destined for something far greater.
Avien’s words are practically ringing Océane’s ears, as they so often do. But it’s a bit easier than usual to tune them out right now; to let them drown in soft sighs and stifled breaths, lose them in the crowded space of her mind currently fully occupied by delighted hums and longing gasps.
With Alexandre’s fingers tangled in her hair, his body pressing against hers while she wraps her legs around him, pulling him closer as his lips catch hers in a kiss so fervent it feels like it’s meant to devour … it’s actually shockingly easy to ignore Avien’s terribly lingering presence for once.
Océane’s hands are grabbing onto the firm walnut wood of that desk as if she were holding on to its edge for dear life. If her knuckles could turn any whiter, they would.
»I missed you, mon amour«, Alexandre murmurs against her neck, his breath tickling her ear just a little bit, making the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stand up in the most pleasant way.
»I …« Océane swallows hard, biting her lip. It feels like sacrilege to say such things in here - in Avien’s study, right on that goddamn desk she’s always so particular about. But it’s the only room in the house André won’t enter on his own, and - as Océane has to remind herself once more right this moment - Avien is not here, so it was the only logical choice. The only choice that even remotely resembled safe or reasonable within a plan as daring as this. Also, sacrilege is apparently a quite fun thing to commit when it’s Avien’s holy space that’s being disrespected. It’s terrifying and exciting at the same time, and Océane can’t remember her undead pulse ever having raced like this before, can’t remember the sound of it reverberating this loudly in her ears. »I missed you too«, she finally musters, words spoken like a breath of relief. »You can’t even imagine how much.«
Alex leaves a trail of kisses up her neck, all the way across her jaw, until they’re facing each other again. »You’re underestimating my imagination«, he says, a teasing tone to his voice. It’s calm and low, as if to remind her, even though no one else is around to listen anyway: His words are for her ears, and hers only. His gaze wanders back and forth between her eyes and lips, slowly, obviously savoring the promise of so many possibilities. »It’s quite vivid, you know.«
»It is?«, she breathes into the paper-thin distance between them. Océane doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it, but her cheeks feel terribly hot all of a sudden, more so than before. Can a revenant like her blush? She’s not sure, but it vaguely feels like she is. »You’ll have to tell me more about that sometime.«
A gorgeous, cheeky grin spreads across Alexandre’s face as he nods. »I’d love to. Or …« He pauses for a long moment, stealing a brief kiss. »… I could show you just how imaginative I can be, if that’s what you want?«
Océane lets out a quiet laugh. »You know me too well, mon coeur.«
Their lips meet again, longer this time, opening slightly, just enough to swallow up each other’s sounds of pleasure. Océane’s hands, so tame and reserved resting against the desk before, now roam more freely, as if a spell had been broken. Without looking, she grabs the fabric of Alexandre’s shirt and starts pulling on it until she finds the hem, her cool touch sliding underneath to meet wonderfully warm skin, exploring the shape of his body, so familiar by now and yet still so delightful to touch time and time again.
In turn, his hands wander downwards - and right back up again, lifting her skirt with a little help from her shifting hips. There’s nothing beneath it; no more fabric separating her from the dark, wooden surface she’s sitting on, and no more clothing preventing Alexandre from running his hands across her thighs, stroking, grabbing, pulling her even closer than before, closer than she thought was possible-
Don’t waste your time on love, Avien had said. And that she was not allowed to leave the house until her detested Mistress’ return, especially not to meet up with that boy. But no one said anything about staying inside, having a guest over, and indulging in some physical intimacy, right?
Océane has a feeling they’re about to make a mess she’ll have to clean up very thoroughly later to avoid getting in trouble. But frankly? In some far-off corner of her mind, she’s still aware all of this is awfully reckless, but right now, with Alexandre’s voice sending shivers down her spine, whispering her name and recounting all the things he’s been imagining, she really couldn’t care less about the aftermath.
Genre: Romance with hints of spice? Romantic prelude to spice? Idk man
Rating: 18+
Characters: Alexandre & fool_with_dream's Océane
Prompt: from this fucked up kissing meme
CN: Kissing, touching, general physical intimacy; hints of nudity; vague hints at captivity and Océane being the traumatized zombie girl she typically is lol
Author's Note: No comment, just my precious babies getting the romantically spicy break they deserve (by rightfully disrespecting Avien’s space, ayyy)
a kiss when it’s not allowed
You can’t waste your time on love, my dear. Not right now. Not when you’re destined for something far greater.
Avien’s words are practically ringing Océane’s ears, as they so often do. But it’s a bit easier than usual to tune them out right now; to let them drown in soft sighs and stifled breaths, lose them in the crowded space of her mind currently fully occupied by delighted hums and longing gasps.
With Alexandre’s fingers tangled in her hair, his body pressing against hers while she wraps her legs around him, pulling him closer as his lips catch hers in a kiss so fervent it feels like it’s meant to devour … it’s actually shockingly easy to ignore Avien’s terribly lingering presence for once.
Océane’s hands are grabbing onto the firm walnut wood of that desk as if she were holding on to its edge for dear life. If her knuckles could turn any whiter, they would.
»I missed you, mon amour«, Alexandre murmurs against her neck, his breath tickling her ear just a little bit, making the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stand up in the most pleasant way.
»I …« Océane swallows hard, biting her lip. It feels like sacrilege to say such things in here - in Avien’s study, right on that goddamn desk she’s always so particular about. But it’s the only room in the house André won’t enter on his own, and - as Océane has to remind herself once more right this moment - Avien is not here, so it was the only logical choice. The only choice that even remotely resembled safe or reasonable within a plan as daring as this. Also, sacrilege is apparently a quite fun thing to commit when it’s Avien’s holy space that’s being disrespected. It’s terrifying and exciting at the same time, and Océane can’t remember her undead pulse ever having raced like this before, can’t remember the sound of it reverberating this loudly in her ears. »I missed you too«, she finally musters, words spoken like a breath of relief. »You can’t even imagine how much.«
Alex leaves a trail of kisses up her neck, all the way across her jaw, until they’re facing each other again. »You’re underestimating my imagination«, he says, a teasing tone to his voice. It’s calm and low, as if to remind her, even though no one else is around to listen anyway: His words are for her ears, and hers only. His gaze wanders back and forth between her eyes and lips, slowly, obviously savoring the promise of so many possibilities. »It’s quite vivid, you know.«
»It is?«, she breathes into the paper-thin distance between them. Océane doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it, but her cheeks feel terribly hot all of a sudden, more so than before. Can a revenant like her blush? She’s not sure, but it vaguely feels like she is. »You’ll have to tell me more about that sometime.«
A gorgeous, cheeky grin spreads across Alexandre’s face as he nods. »I’d love to. Or …« He pauses for a long moment, stealing a brief kiss. »… I could show you just how imaginative I can be, if that’s what you want?«
Océane lets out a quiet laugh. »You know me too well, mon coeur.«
Their lips meet again, longer this time, opening slightly, just enough to swallow up each other’s sounds of pleasure. Océane’s hands, so tame and reserved resting against the desk before, now roam more freely, as if a spell had been broken. Without looking, she grabs the fabric of Alexandre’s shirt and starts pulling on it until she finds the hem, her cool touch sliding underneath to meet wonderfully warm skin, exploring the shape of his body, so familiar by now and yet still so delightful to touch time and time again.
In turn, his hands wander downwards - and right back up again, lifting her skirt with a little help from her shifting hips. There’s nothing beneath it; no more fabric separating her from the dark, wooden surface she’s sitting on, and no more clothing preventing Alexandre from running his hands across her thighs, stroking, grabbing, pulling her even closer than before, closer than she thought was possible-
Don’t waste your time on love, Avien had said. And that she was not allowed to leave the house until her detested Mistress’ return, especially not to meet up with that boy. But no one said anything about staying inside, having a guest over, and indulging in some physical intimacy, right?
Océane has a feeling they’re about to make a mess she’ll have to clean up very thoroughly later to avoid getting in trouble. But frankly? In some far-off corner of her mind, she’s still aware all of this is awfully reckless, but right now, with Alexandre’s voice sending shivers down her spine, whispering her name and recounting all the things he’s been imagining, she really couldn’t care less about the aftermath.