Speech = "........"
Thoughts = [......]
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Snipet
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She was romantically clueless.
Fawning and feeling the heat spread through her legs when in the presence of extremely alluring hot men and women from Tevat was one thing, but actually knowing what she felt past that fixation was...harder. Well, she was sure she was at the very least straight...one could not just cup the Ludex taut, stone breaking chest and think otherwise, however..... all this fumbling and playful teasing with Furina had left her...at odds.
It had started as a genuine attempt to give the girl a friend
A real friend....god knows that she needs one
Even though she knew well that it wouldn't erase the trauma and pain the girl had been forcefully put through for 500 fracking years of non stop acting or else the nation dies and you get hit with the mother of all PTSD moments of your immortal lifetime...., but it was better than to look the other way, pretending she was fine.
But now..?
"...Seriously?"
Signora's voice rang in the room amused, confused and deadpan all at once as she sat across from her, strong elegant legs crossed in a rather provocative manner yet no less dignified
Crucabena nods, like a golden retriever made human.
A single silver eye blinks once, then twice as the Eight stares as if she could see her soul.
"Don't you have a daughter already..?"
Crucabena bit her lip.
"Well yes, but you know.....shit happens...?"
"Oh it really looks like it..."
"Look, I know how it sounds but can you...I don't know, help me figure things out? Like a method or something..?"
"A method you say...?"
"Yes..."
"Well." Signora says, tilting her head – showing off the bare skin of her neck, framed by her cascading red locks. "One way they can 'help' is through physical means. Platonically, with no strings attached – so long as you establish boundaries."
"...Like?" She questions. Then, her eyebrows shoot up when the blond beauty lunges forward, grabbing her by the collar.
"Give me seven minutes in that broom closet to show you." The words are whispered, her breath ghosting on Crucabena's skin.
"...Oh."
Oh, she says.
Seven minutes later she stumbles out of the closet like a drunk after a party, her breath ragged and a myriad of ravenous kiss marks all over her face and neck.
"You," Signora growls, lipstick smudged, "are a terrible kisser."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The ensuing blush nearly lights up the entire house. "...Uh, give me seven more minutes to figure it out..?"
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º...House of the Hearth...º
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Even at his old age and with all the things he had seen coming in and out the Hearths halls, Gerard had never come to consider himself as a superstitious man.
Tired? Yes
Hard? Perhaps...
Jaded? Who wasn't in this line of work..?
YOU ARE READING
How NOT to be a mother in a doomed story (Oc story)
General Fiction[AU] What happens when one simple overworked goofball of a girl from our world its tossed into a magical world of gods and legends? Chaos. What happens when she wears the skin of one of the worst individuals to ever live and its forced to go through...
