𝕍𝕖𝕩'𝕒𝕙𝕝𝕚𝕒

She makes it very difficult to think of anything else. “I love you as well Vex’ahlia Vessar de Rolo. More than words could ever convey.”

Im doing wonderfully, thank you. I saw your best bear friend on the way and oh he’s just a deli—iii How are you? I hope you’re doing good, your lady

Well indeed. Though it’s truly hard to get much closer than that, unless one wants to try and get metaphysical with dreams and souls. The furthest on that front was a suggestion of some portal toy shenanigans from Percy. Either way, he’s not focused on that right now.

Absolutely no space between them. And yet still not close enough. Tugging and tugging, grasping and squeezing. Holding tight, but not enough to hurt. Gods this woman, how he misses her every time they even leave to different rooms.

Does she even need a verbal response? There wasn’t any hesitation between her asking and him pressing scalding, smokey lips to hers. It was passionate, but the quiet kind. The kind where your favorite meal is made for you just right, without even asking for it. Deep love.

As if he ever could. She held his heart and used his soul as a blanket to warm hers. She couldn’t get rid of him if she tried. “Whatever your wish, or desire, I am at your service. From here to the planes beyond.” Just cupping her and squeezing tight. She’s his too.

“As the Lady… commands.” He says with a smirk, pausing for a content hum to slip past his lips as he felt her touches caressing him. She sure did enjoy leaving her mark on the edges of his presentable condition. Hickeys just under collars and lapels. Devious vixen.~

Heyllo Lady 𝒟𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜~

His chest vibrates with his quiet laugh, one hand tangling his fingers amongst her hair, the other tight around her waist as their legs become tangled. “As Lord and Lady of Whitestone, not even a week after New Dawn, I say we can pretend things are whatever the /fuck/ we want.~”

𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙨 Good evening everyone~

+ breathe her in. A balm for his soul. “Please do.”

“Indeed. A terrible fate I have to suffer, the warmth of my pillowy wife.” Eventually Percival makes his way back to the bed, cracking joints on the way alongside a stretch or two. “It is far too late for the workshop. So about 9 o’clock… give or take a couple hours.”

He tries his best to get it off, but he practically sweats the stuff now. A soft rumbling chuckle leaves his chest as he begins slipping into his pjs, leaving his clothes by the fire. He chucks another log in while he’s there. “Oh no, I’ll have to be behind you. How dreadful.~”

As he almost always is. There’s just something about the castle growing quiet that makes it easier to breathe and create. As though it’s growing quiet inside his mind as well. But he can’t stay there forever, so he’s joining Vex soon enough, trying not to disturb her.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ #SeductiveSundayᅠ ⠀⠀⠀

((Gods, he is his parents’ son

@GreyLadyOfWS ●●●●○ ｜ general interest ●●●●○ ｜ attraction ●●●●●｜ trust ●●●●●｜ affection ○○○○○ ｜ annoyance ●●●●●｜ shipping chance