Work Text:
Ingrid is already inside their room by the time Dorothea finishes freshening up for the rest of the night. She’s staring at the dressing table, at the box sitting on top.
“A box of chocolates, imported from Almyra, I believe? A noble had sent it over to us for our help,” Dorothea says. Ingrid jumps, clearly not expecting to see Dorothea there.
“O-oh! You're back! I was just, ah, wondering what it was,” Ingrid quickly says. “The packaging is very nice.” She runs a finger along the box, raising a brow at it.
It is a nice, immaculate box, the surface completely smooth. There’s a ribbon even tied on top to hold it together, something far too fancy for either of them to purchase. Dorothea wagers that the box itself most likely cost even more than the chocolates itself. But, more importantly than that, Dorothea sees how Ingrid’s eyes haven’t quite left the box.
"If you want, you can go ahead and open it," Dorothea teases. Ingrid bites her lip but looks away with a blush.
"I'm fine!" she says, if a little bit unusually higher pitched. She quickly steps away before Dorothea can tease her further, turned away from her as Ingrid sheds the rest of her armor. Dorothea laughs, and while she'd go help her with her armor, she turns to the drawer instead.
She takes apart the ribbon holding the box together and lifts the lid. An array of chocolates in all sorts of sizes and shapes greets her. They all look the same to her, and she’s not sure if Ingrid’s particularly picky about her sweets so she picks up a random one, something that’s square-like and smooth.
With a plan in mind, Dorothea makes her way to Ingrid.
"Ingrid, turn around, please," and when Ingrid does turn around, Dorothea presses the chocolate into her mouth. "Here you go."
"Dorothea—" Ingrid tries to protest but Dorothea pushes the chocolate against Ingrid's lips, and she has no choice but to open her mouth to accept the candy. Dorothea draws her hand away, grinning as she sees Ingrid enjoy the treat.
"I, um, thank you," Ingrid says as she covers her mouth, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.
"You never need to hide it from me! I love to spoil you, and I so love to see you spoil yourself too."
“I, ah, um, yes,” Ingrid mumbles, still clearly embarrassed by the way she can’t meet Dorothea’s eyes.
"So, how is it?"
Ingrid makes a face as she finishes the rest of chocolate, swallowing it down. "I think this one had some liquor in it? Not sure how I feel about it, to be honest.”
Dorothea glances back at the box. She’s tempted to try one for herself, but she’s not quite in the mood for it right now. Sometimes, Dorothea wonders how Ingrid can just put down everything in front of her, and still have room for more. It’s a little amazing, but also a little terrifying where it all just disappears to.
Ingrid returns to unfastening the straps of her armor, pulling off both her gauntlets and working on her shoulder plates. Dorothea moves to help her—oh! There's chocolate on her fingers, she notices. Dorothea pulls out her handkerchief to wipe her fingers on it—
Except Ingrid grabs her wrist, and Dorothea can only watch with hitched breath as she brings Dorothea's fingers to her mouth and licks them clean. But Ingrid isn't done, and she takes Dorothea’s fingers into her mouth, sucking each fingertip she just cleaned thoroughly.
"O-Oh," Dorothea says, breathlessly, unable to take her eyes away. When Ingrid finally releases her hand, Dorothea is still unable to stop staring at Ingrid, who only licks her lips. Then, she jolts, as if remembering where she is.
“I, ah, just thought it’d be a waste,” Ingrid mumbles, quickly sitting down on the bed and ducking her head as an excuse to focus on taking off the rest of her armor.
Dorothea’s hand still hangs in the air, still trying to work her mind through what had just happened. So… so bold! Dorothea’s heart is racing, and she can’t stop thinking about Ingrid’s tongue.
“Are you still hungry?”
Ingrid opens her mouth to answer but Dorothea stands in front of her, cupping a hand under her chin and lifts it.
“Um…” Ingrid stares up at her, and licks her lips. Dorothea watches every movement of that tongue, trying not to squeeze her legs together. She’s all too aware of her growing arousal. “When you say hungry, do you mean…”
And Dorothea laughs, unable to help herself by how flustered Ingrid suddenly seems. “Exactly what you’re thinking of, my dear Ingrid,” she teases, and the flush on Ingrid grows even deeper, almost up to her ears. For all of Ingrid’s earnestness, Dorothea never gets tired of teasing her like this, especially when she reacts so strongly!
But they've been so busy, they've hardly had time with each other. Always on the move after Ingrid gave up her title to lend their hand across the land, neither of them have had time for themselves.
Well, Dorothea thinks it might just be time to change that.
“Let’s get you out of the rest of these,” Dorothea says, her voice low as she reaches down. Dorothea’s hands are deft as she unfastens the rest of Ingrid’s armor, already long used to the task. Ingrid is still frozen in place, and it takes a moment for her to finally move, but she returns the favor for Dorothea, her hands already working on the clasps of Dorothea’s dress.
It isn’t long before Dorothea finds herself seated atop Ingrid’s lap, the both of them divested of their clothing. Ingrid hasn’t stopped blushing, not that Dorothea feels much better herself. For all of her bravado, there’s always the urge to cover herself, the need to hide herself because she still feels so uncertain despite having every assurance that Ingrid will never change her mind.
As if sensing her uncertainty, Ingrid leans forward and kisses the middle of her collarbone. One of her hands takes Dorothea’s in hers, threading their fingers together. Dorothea closes her eyes, pulling Ingrid close to her as she revels in Ingrid's warmth and presence next to her.
Ingrid's other hand drags lightly over her skin, and it takes a moment for Dorothea to realize her fingers are following a pattern, her fingers moving over scarred skin. Both of their skins are marred, but Ingrid has more of them. The war was unkind but they've still got their lives and each other, and that's more than Dorothea can ask for.
She pulls back, her hand cupping Ingrid's face, tracing over one that runs down the side of her face and toward her neck. If Dorothea looks down toward the shoulders, she'd see even more of them along her body.
Ingrid catches her gaze and smiles softly, a gesture that Dorothea slowly returns. Even back then when they were still at the academy, she's always thought of Ingrid as beautiful. Now, years later, Dorothea still thinks that's true, and she's still in awe that someone so noble as Ingrid would choose her.
Dorothea, still cupping Ingrid’s face, tilts it toward her as she leans down and kisses her. Ingrid kisses back, her hands starting to roam now, her fingertips running down the length of Dorothea’s back, then under Dorothea’s breasts. Ingrid breaks the kiss to trail a path down Dorothea’s neck with her tongue while her fingers continue to explore. Dorothea shivers, as if Ingrid’s fingers and tongue are coated with ice magic.
Ingrid moves backward onto the bed, moving toward the pillows and taking Dorothea with her. She sits atop of Ingrid, breaths coming out fast as she stares down at her lover underneath her, her hands balanced on top of the muscles of Ingrid’s abdomen. Training and pegasus riding have kept Ingrid in top form, and Dorothea openly admires her body, feeling her up and delighting in the quiet moans Ingrid makes.
Her hand circles one of Ingrid’s breasts, her finger dragging around the skin. “Dorothea, please don’t tease me,” Ingrid pants. Ingrid’s hands grips the top of Dorothea’s thighs, and Dorothea almost groans when she can just feel how close they are to her center.
The ache between her legs worsens, especially with the hungry way Ingrid is looking at her. Dorothea had only been teasing her about being hungry, but she starts to think maybe Ingrid’s near insatiable appetite really has made an appearance here.
She tries to shift her legs to ease some of the ache but she’s all too aware of how her wetness spreads across Ingrid’s body. Knowing Ingrid is watching her, Dorothea grinds down slightly against the muscles underneath her, the both of them groaning. Ingrid’s hands, still on top of Dorothea’s thighs, squeeze down slightly.
“Come here,” Ingrid gasps out, leaning up so she can slide her hands to underneath Dorothea’s backside and urge her forward. Dorothea scoots herself down until she finds herself hovering over Ingrid’s face. She’s so wet that the inside of her thighs are slick, her breath catching when she realizes what Ingrid intends to do.
Ingrid licks her lips as if she’s seeing a whole feast in front of her, as if she’s famished and hasn’t eaten for a very long time. Dorothea flushes, embarrassed that Ingrid is looking at her like that, that Ingrid catches her gaze and hasn’t stopped licking her lips at all.
“You were right, I think I am hungry,” Ingrid says. Hot breath hits Dorothea and it’s all Dorothea can do to keep from squirming. Ingrid’s hands grip her backside and bring her even closer. Dorothea tries her hardest to keep all her weight on her knees but Ingrid keeps pulling her closer and she’s afraid Ingrid won’t even be able to breathe.
Ingrid licks the inside of Dorothea’s thighs, so agonizing close to her center and yet so far away. It’s such an awful tease. Maybe it’s payback for all of Dorothea teasing her all the time. One of Dorothea’s hands tangles in Ingrid’s hair, trying to urge her toward where she really needs it.
The first swipe of Ingrid’s tongue makes Dorothea gasp and jerk her hips, as if hit by a surge of a Thunder spell gone awry. If it weren’t for Ingrid’s strong grip, she knows she’d have hurt her. Ingrid’s tongue licks her slit again before moving into her folds.
Dorothea’s hands run through Ingrid’s hair, moaning as Ingrid’s tongue moves inside of her. It’s incredible, the way Ingrid is just so eager about it, as if she really hasn't eaten in several days. Her hips rock forward and she can’t help but feel self-conscious about grinding herself against Ingrid's face but Ingrid doesn’t seem to mind at all, her tongue even moving in rhythm with Dorothea.
Ingrid leans higher up, to wrap her lips around the bud at the top and Dorothea jerks out of rhythm with a cry. Ingrid's hands hold her steady, and if it weren't for that, she's sure she would have pushed Ingrid right back into the headboard. Speaking of the headboard, Dorothea reaches to it, gripping it with one hand as the other goes to her mouth, trying to muffle her moans.
Dorothea lets out a sharp cry as she stiffens, coming against Ingrid's mouth. Ingrid slows down briefly, trying to draw out the pleasure. Ingrid hums, and the vibrations sending a pleasant thrum through her.
“You have a wonderful voice, Dorothea, please let me hear it,” Ingrid says, voice raw and so much lower than Dorothea’s ever heard from her. “I love listening to you. Please.”
And, yet, before Dorothea can answer, before she can fully recover, Ingrid’s tongue is moving again, pushing into her entrance.
The hand falls from Dorothea’s face as she cries out loudly, her hips rocking forward as she rides Ingrid's face. That wonderful tongue is already hitting the places that make Dorothea see stars. She’s sang more than several love songs that spoke of passion, of lust, of hurried fervor, but words pale in comparison in trying to capture this moment, where Dorothea feels as if she’s both falling and flying, feels like she’s ready to burst.
Her hands tangle through Ingrid’s hair, gripping tight. Ingrid’s name falls from her lips like a song as she nears the edge again, her hips bucking wildly against Ingrid.
When Ingrid leans up again and her nose bumps against that sensitive bud, Dorothea falls over the edge once more, coming upon Ingrid's wonderful mouth once more. And still, Ingrid doesn't even look tired, her tongue still working at Dorothea without even slowing for a second.
The pleasure builds even higher again. Dorothea's eyes squeeze shut as she feels another orgasm again. It just—it feels so wonderful, and Dorothea’s so overwhelmed, trying her hardest to breathe. It's as if she's drowning, but with spikes of pleasure shooting through her.
The third orgasm makes Dorothea cry out, nearly sobbing from its intensity. And—
Darkness takes Dorothea.
But it isn't for long until she's brought back.
When she wakes, she quickly realizes she's on the cusp of falling over the edge again, Ingrid still working at her. "Oh, Ingrid—" is the farthest she can get before she shudders and her thighs clench, rapture overtaking her again.
Dorothea gasps, her body slumping as she comes down from her high. And, still, Ingrid is relentless, both her tongue and fingers trying to draw out the pleasure as much as possible. When did she even start to use her fingers? Dorothea hadn’t even realized.
Her hips rock weakly as she shakes her head. She tries to move away but she’s too exhausted to escape Ingrid’s grasp even though Ingrid is using only one hand.
“Ingrid, I think—I think that’s it—please,” she whimpers. Ah, but with how Dorothea’s thighs are clenched around Ingrid’s head, would she still even be able to hear her?
But, thankfully, Ingrid finally slows down, her grip on Dorothea going slack. Dorothea tiredly slides backward, enough for Ingrid to prop herself up on her elbows and look up at her. The sheer wetness on Ingrid’s face almost makes Dorothea want to laugh and be mortified at the same time, until Ingrid starts to lick every one of her fingers that had touched Dorothea, and now all Dorothea can do is watch in amazement with a slight blush on her face.
“Sorry, I’m just… going to…” and Dorothea collapses half on the bed and half on Ingrid, far more spent than she thought she'd be tonight. Of course, she hadn't expected Ingrid would just… keep going. Ingrid immediately winds her arms around her, stroking her hair and running her fingers down her back. It's such a soft gesture that Dorothea finds herself melting right into the embrace. She’s still not used to it, being treated so gently without the expectation of something else underneath it.
Ingrid kisses her forehead, then her nose, and when Dorothea feels her leaning to kiss her cheek, she turns her head to catch Ingrid for herself. Her own tongue runs along Ingrid's lips, tasting of herself.
When they pull apart, she sees Ingrid’s still heated gaze, watching her intently. Ah… Dorothea’s been selfish tonight, not that she thought Ingrid would… well, just keep using her tongue for so long! Still, she feels bad that she hasn’t seen to Ingrid’s needs, and starts to shift to make herself comfortable. But she’s exhausted, and can hardly think much when her knee brushes against the center of Ingrid’s legs.
It’s so wet.
“Oh!” Dorothea gasps the same time as Ingrid moans. Her hand moves down, sliding along Ingrid’s thighs, feeling the hard muscle—
But Ingrid grabs her hand and shakes her head. “You’re tired, it’s fine,” Ingrid says, taking Dorothea’s hand away.
“What sort of woman would I be if I left my poor Ingrid like that?” Oh, Dorothea knows she’s playing dirty, especially when she knows Ingrid is weak when Dorothea talks like this. She knows Ingrid is giving in, but still, she moves away Dorothea’s hand.
“Then… ah…” Ingrid rolls her hips against Dorothea’s knee, and Dorothea understands now. She moves her knee as Ingrid grinds against her, Ingrid’s own fingers working at herself. Dorothea watches her, feeling the heat building up again but she’s far too spent now, and she feels more guilty that she’s too tired to help Ingrid.
When she feels Ingrid’s hips starting to stutter and sees Ingrid bite her own lip, Dorothea leans forward and captures Ingrid’s lips, swallowing down Ingrid’s cry as she comes. She delights in it. The sounds Ingrid makes are Dorothea's own music meant only for her own ears.
Ingrid breaks away to pant, trying to catch herself. After everything they’ve done, though, Dorothea knows Ingrid’s still a little more than wound up. But, Ingrid slowly moves her lips against Dorothea again, and it helps calm the both of them down.
“I’ll take care of you in the morning,” Dorothea mumbles, struggling to keep her eyes awake. Ingrid sighs but there’s a small smile on her face.
“I wanted to do that for you. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
“Are you sure it was for me? You just kept going!" Dorothea shakes her head. "Didn't you see I stopped moving?"
"I, um, didn’t notice,” Ingrid admits in a quiet voice. A dark red colors her cheeks. “With your legs around me, I didn’t really notice anything else.”
"You really were trying to make a meal out of me!"
“I was going to stop soon!” Ingrid moves her jaw a few times, rubbing it with her hand as she winces. “I confess I was getting a little tired. I hope I won’t be sore tomorrow.” The casual way Ingrid ponders about this makes Dorothea blush.
“You shouldn’t have just… kept going, then!” Dorothea can still hardly able to believe it’s even happened at all. Well, it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it, but she never thought Ingrid would... lose her self-control like that.
“It’s like when you find your favorite food and you just can’t stop eating—oh, Goddess, I’m going to stop talking.” Ingrid turns her head away from Dorothea, and Dorothea laughs, both out of amusement and embarrassment. Hearing something like that spoken aloud sounds so ridiculous, but... Dorothea laughs again and she hears Ingrid sighing. A comfortable silence settles over them. Dorothea tucks her head underneath Ingrid’s neck, breathing into it. She presses a kiss there, delighting in the slight shiver she feels Ingrid make.
“Well? How was it?” Still, she can’t help but keep teasing her Ingrid.
Ingrid stiffens. “A… a fine meal,” she mumbles into the top of Dorothea’s head.
"And how was the taste?"
"D-Dorothea!" Ingrid sounds so appalled, and Dorothea giggles helplessly.
“But you’re still not satisfied, aren’t you?” Dorothea asks. The sudden blush on Ingrid tells her everything.
“I… well, yes,” Ingrid says. She pushes Dorothea back and leans down. She kisses Dorothea, but rather than the ravenous way of earlier, it’s soft, gentle. Dorothea finds herself surprised. This isn’t anything different, but she still finds herself stunned when she’s treated this way, treated so tenderly than merely being lusted after.
And when Ingrid pulls away, Dorothea can see it, the affection that shines in her eyes. “I could never get enough of you, Dorothea.”