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The flames run dim. Byleth stokes the campfire with a stick, and when she looks, Leonie's holding out the bottle to her - one of Jeralt’s favorite brews. She takes it wordlessly and drinks. The rim of the bottle is still warm from the other woman's lips.
"We really should get some rest," Leonie says.
"We should."
But Byleth knows how it is. After the big battles, she's asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. But after the small skirmishes like today’s, she's still pumped up on adrenaline halfway into the night.
They haven't had too many big battles since Jeralt retired - since the war ended, really. Leonie's always on the lookout for the company's next big break, but she's just as fast to lead the crew to chase some poachers out of town - "just like Jeralt did in Sauin," Byleth would say, and Leonie would nod, repeating, "Just like the Captain in Sauin."
"Technically, we're the captains now."
"He'll always be Captain Jeralt to me."
A faint smile tugs at her lips. She passes the bottle back to Leonie, watching her. Leonie doesn't hesitate before putting the bottle back to her own lips.
Byleth doesn’t know what she’s watching for. She stands up and walks back to their tent. She can hear Leonie dousing their campfire behind her.
The gauntlets come off first, then her boots. She's topless by the time Leonie walks in.
"Want me to come back later?"
"Why? You've seen me naked before."
She wonders if she sounds rude. She’s not trying to. She never really liked trying to pick out hidden meanings between seemingly innocent sentences. That's why she likes Leonie - one of the many reasons. Nobles will say one thing but mean another, but Leonie says what's on her mind.
Which is why, if Leonie really liked her, she would say something right now.
Moments pass; Byleth lets out a breath. When she looks, Leonie's staring at the exposed muscle of her back. Leonie quickly turns away and begins disrobing for the night, herself.
When she's just in her smallclothes, Byleth lies down to sleep. Leonie's still changing. She hikes up her shirt, revealing her abs.
“What?” Leonie asks, suddenly. “You changed in front of me.”
Byleth realizes she was staring. “It’s nothing,” she says, turning away. Her fingertips twitch, imagining what Leonie’s hard muscle would feel like under her touch.
Romance is as foreign to Byleth as matters of faith, but deep down, she knows that women who are interested in one another don't just change in front of each other like it's nothing. Leonie speaks of Captain Jeralt like he was her own father - and Byleth knows what that would make her.
Sure enough, Leonie lies down next to her without another word. Sharing their accommodations has always been just practical for them - and on the nights when they toss and turn and wake up in another's arms like lovers, Leonie doesn't blush or smile or do any of those things that the smitten are supposed to. If anything, she's a bit too quick to get up.
And it's fine. Being close to Leonie, even like this, is fine. It's more than Byleth has ever known; it's not like her father was particularly huggy with her. She's fine like this. If she's just Leonie's sister, it's fine.
Really.
Her head is buzzing faintly from the alcohol. She never liked the brews that Jeralt liked - they’re too strong. But she likes the company that drinking provides, and she likes the sweetness on the rim left by Leonie's lips.
Leonie made sure to take a few swigs of water before bed. Nothing's worse than fighting off a late night ambush while still drunk or, worse, hung over. So she's perfectly clear-headed when she wakes up the next morning, little spoon in Byleth's arms, the other woman's dick hard against her ass.
Byleth is a light sleeper, same as any merc. All Leonie would have to do to get out of this situation is squirm out of her grip or maybe just say, "Hey, stop grinding your cock against me" and it would be over. But she doesn't - she lays perfectly still, committing every detail to memory.
It's wrong of her not to do anything, isn't it? Byleth is asleep - and Leonie hates the idea of taking advantage of a sleeping woman. But it's not like she's doing anything wrong; Byleth's the one who snuggled up against her like this.
Not that it's Byleth's fault. She clearly did it in her sleep, and getting hard in her sleep is just a biological reaction - one that doesn’t happen often anymore, either; Leonie would know.
Maybe it's not just morning wood, Leonie thinks, maybe it's for her. Maybe she's dreaming of her right now. Byleth squirms in her sleep, her throbbing womanhood grinding against Leonie in the process. Leonie bites her lip to stifle a moan.
She hates letting herself get her hopes up. She gave up the idea of her and Byleth being anything more a long time ago - like, "moved across the country and started a rival mercenary group after the war" long ago. Out of sight, out of mind.
(She left during the celebratory feast. Had to get started early, she claimed. She hadn’t said goodbye.)
And Leonie's never believed in the goddess, not really, but it was nothing other than fate that brought her crossing blades against Byleth on the battlefield. Years had passed; she fought under her own banner now. They fought as equals, the way Leonie had always wanted. And when the battle was done and coin was exchanged, Byleth had urged, stay, and talked about working together and -
She should have said no. But Byleth said she missed her, and she had no choice.
Now here she is, the love of her life holding her in those fucking strong arms, her breath hot on her neck, her dick throbbing with need against her. Maybe she could never get her feelings across, but mercs have hookups all the time. Byleth would wake up, and Leonie would say, "Hey, want some help with that," and then maybe, just maybe, Leonie could get it out of her system. (She's already so fucking hard for her. She wonders if she could pass it off as 'just' a hookup, a mere favor between gal pals, or if her neediness would give her away.)
But the moment passes, as it tends to do; Byleth stirs with a yawn and, realizing her predicament, scoots back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."
"No, it's fine," Leonie finds herself saying, "I didn't mind." She really didn't mind.
Byleth studies her. Leonie remembers her line - her offer to 'help'. But when she looks at Byleth, she doesn't find the other woman flushed and eyes glazed over with need - instead, she looks downcast. She wonders if she's beating herself up over some “being predatory” or "not a real woman" nonsense. Even though they’re both trans, Leonie knows how vicious a person can be to themself. And she'd rather put herself to the blade than risk hurting Byleth any further with her stupid lust.
"It's just your body reacting. It doesn't mean anything." She starts pulling on her boots. "I'm going to pack up camp."
"Okay."
"Alright."
It doesn't take long for Byleth to join her outside. They don't talk again for the rest of the morning.
It's a long walk to their next job, but Byleth doesn't mind. The crunch of the forest floor and the buzzing cicadas remind her of a particular humid summer back in Remire.
Byleth’s never had a hometown - not like Leonie with Sauin. After the academy shut down, Byleth heard that Leonie used her earnings from being a general to pay back the villagers’ loans with interest. She wonders what it’s like to love a place so dearly. The only place she has like that is by Leonie’s side.
It had been a confusing year after the war. Peace reigned; Sothis grew quiet; Leonie left without a word. So much for ‘being like sisters’ - so Jeralt said, anyway. He just shrugged when she approached him. “She wants to prove herself. I encouraged her to start her own band of mercenaries.”
The least she could have done was said goodbye.
They walk. The other mercenaries are laughing and joking with each other behind her. Even though Jeralt retired, Alois had stayed. “Isn’t this great? Family back together again!” he had said, slinging an arm around Leonie and Byleth both when their paths had again crossed.
And Alois is like an older brother, in a way. He can be goofy, but he’s reliable when it counts. He hadn’t stayed following her out of obligation, like he may have felt to his former knight captain, but because he wanted to. There are few people Byleth would consider a ‘friend’ more than an ‘ally’, but Alois is one of them.
But it’s different with Leonie.
Leonie hasn't spoken to her since that morning. She had volunteered to scout ahead and had been unusually focused since - no shooting the shit with the mercs, no talking battle strategy with her. She believed Leonie when she said the morning's 'incident' hadn't bothered her, but that didn't explain why, whenever Byleth caught up with her on the trail, Leonie would claim she heard something ahead and increase her pace.
The 'something' that Leonie heard turns out to be a deer chewing on a berry bush. It takes one look at them, angled just right so that it looks like its antlers are holding up the sun, and then runs off into the distance. If they'd been hunting, Leonie would've cursed to let a buck that size get away. She just keeps walking.
Alois feels invincible to her, though maybe it’s just the full plate armor he wears everywhere. And Jeralt - she never even thought to worry about her father. He would always claim he was getting older, he was slowing down, but he could turn the tide of a battle with his presence alone. She knows Leonie’s strength - she fought her all out once, pouring all her confusing feelings about her leaving into her combat. Byleth had won, but only by inches. And the rest was history.
She never voiced those feelings - she didn’t even know how to name them, herself. Maybe it’s why she clings so tight when they’re sleeping together. The merc life is hard even for the strongest of them. If Leonie doesn’t wind up falling in battle one day, Byleth fully expects to wake up and find Leonie completely gone as if she were never there to begin with.
Coin changes hands; they plan to march at dawn. Bandits have become less common since the end of the war, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone completely, a fact she’s almost grateful for. Almost.
Leonie would never say she misses the war - not with so many commoners having been left to suffer as they did - but it was simpler, in a way. She always knew her enemy and got to feel as if she were fighting for the common good.
Jobs have started to dry up, now. Without bandits, the jobs that remain are shadier; she’s turned down more than a few on principle. She became a mercenary to become like Captain Jeralt, not to become just as bad as the poachers that plagued Sauin.
And when jobs are few, she has to consider expenses, and when she has to consider expenses, she has to consider if the band needs two captains. Because what is she doing here? Has she proven herself or is she right back where she started? Is it better to be close to Byleth and accept this is all she’ll get or cut herself off before she starts inevitably craving more?
And when these questions appear, she says damn the expenses and takes her share of the coin to the tavern. Her problem is that she’s so focused on a woman who only sees her as a sister when there are others out there. (She orders the Captain’s favorite. It tastes different somehow when it isn’t shared.)
She finishes one drink back fast but savors the next. She finds a woman from town she’s never seen before, one with manicured fingernails except for two on her right hand. She buys a drink for her, too. Mercs have hookups all the time, if not with each other, then with townsfolk who are willing to listen to a few battle stories over a cold drink. It’s normal; it’s probably what she needs, even. Her body craves the touch of another woman - especially a pretty one like this with full, glossy lips.
So why does it feel so much like cheating?
A third drink for her and a second for the woman before they’re stumbling out of the tavern arm-in-arm. She pulls the stranger into an alley and pins her to the wall, kissing her deeply, drinking in her moans. The woman tugs at the bottom of Leonie’s shirt and slips her hand underneath.
Her hands are warm and uncalloused; she’s probably never held a blade. Leonie lets the stranger lift her shirt and trace her fingertips over her abs, up over her scars, toward her tits. She grabs one, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yes,” Leonie moans. “Byleth-”
Fuck.
The woman is staring at her blankly, hand frozen up her shirt. “Who?”
Leonie sobers up all at once. She pulls back, fixing her shirt. “I have to go.” She’s walking before she hears an explanation, well aware it’s all too familiar.
When Byleth was knee-height to Jeralt, she overheard the mercs starting a rumor that she wasn’t human. They caught her staring and parted, looking over their shoulders the rest of the day.
When Byleth was just as tall as her father’s waist, she tried to make friends with kids in a village they were passing through. She heard them sigh in relief when she finally gave up and left.
When Byleth was up to her father’s chest in height, she started to live as a girl. Her body began to feel like a home, but the nickname ‘Ashen Demon’ remained.
Byleth knows she’s a freak. She’s always known. Whether she skinned her knee or was shot by a bandit’s arrow, she never cried. She bled, but when she put her hand to her wrist, she felt no pulse. When she sleeps, she almost always dreams of an ancient war or a girl on a throne.
For a while, the girl had started talking to her. The girl called her a vessel. The girl took her body when she was awake. Ever since making peace with Shez and ending the war, the girl had been quiet. But when Byleth falls asleep that night, she doesn’t dream of an ancient war.
“How long do you intend to play mercenary?” Sothis asks.
“I’m not playing at anything.”
Sothis rises, approaching her. “Your destiny is far greater. One day soon, you’ll have to accept it.”
With a wave of her hand, she’s on a battlefield. Years ago, Shez makes a different choice and Jeralt dies by her hand. Her father closes his eyes for the last time.
“I am The Beginning,” Sothis says. “I am the past and the future and the times that have not been. How close you were to being mine, vessel. You protected someone you love then, but what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? What about when you fail to protect that woman?”
And then it’s not Jeralt lying dead, but Leonie. Byleth stares into her lifeless eyes, and -
And wakes up. She’s still staring into Leonie’s eyes, awake and alive and full of worry.
“Easy. You’re safe here,” Leonie says. ‘You were thrashing in your sleep.”
They’re sharing a room at the inn. Crickets are chirping outside. They march soon. She catches her breath.
“Night terrors?” Leonie asks.
“Something like that.”
It’s the first time they’ve spoken since the incident outside of tactical talk. Leonie doesn’t respond, but lays back down and drapes an arm around Byleth. She turns and lets herself be the little spoon. Leonie pulls her back so she’s flush against her chest. She’s warm and smells like rain and it’s so, so easy for Byleth to sink into her arms.
A long time passes. Byleth was never good with keeping track of time - she still doesn’t really know her age beyond ‘adult’. She listens to the crickets’ song. She misses her father snoring.
After a while, Leonie whispers to her: “Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
Byleth tries to commit every detail to memory. One day, she’s afraid that’s all she’ll have.
Eventually, her back starts to ache. They shift positions; Byleth winds up with her head on Leonie’s chest. The other woman’s fingers run through her hair. Leonie’s boobs are soft, but more than that, Byleth can hear the steady thump-thump of her heartbeat.
She feels her eyelids starting to get heavy. She wishes she could stay like this forever.
“I love you,” she finds herself mumbling.
Leonie takes a breath. Her heart’s rhythm changes, from steady and slow to a fast thump-thump-thump.
“Love you too.”
At best, Leonie sees her as family. At worst, just another merc or a perpetual rival. But to Byleth, Leonie is the only thing she’s dreamed about in her entire life besides an ancient war or a girl on a throne.
Footsteps thunder; screams cut short; steel crashes against steel. Leonie tears a path through the bandits’ front line on horseback. Her battalion behind her, she breaks down the wooden door to their stronghold.
They’re waiting in an anti-cavalry formation. Leonie recognizes their halberds a second too late; their leader strikes her horse straight in the chest. She’s thrown off, slamming hard onto the ground. The bandit pulls his weapon free and aims straight at her. She rolls out of the way, the halberd stabbing the soil where she’d just lay.
Leonie jumps to her feet and draws her lance in time to block another blow. The bandit leader is built like a Demonic Beast in his own right, fists damn near the size of watermelons, more scar tissue than flesh. But she’s faster, catching him off-guard and drawing blood with a sudden jab.
He lands a solid punch across her face. She reels back, her ears ringing, the world spinning. She raises her lance, expecting a follow-up that never comes.
When her vision clears, the bandit leader is staring past her in abject terror. She turns, keeping an eye on him in case it’s a trick. The sun burning crimson behind her, Byleth steps into the fray.
“That’s the Ashen Demon-”
“Run for your life!”
Several of the remaining bandits drop their weapons where they stand and run. The leader barks after them, cursing their cowardice, but his hand is trembling as he raises his halberd. Byleth looks her in the eye and nods.
Fighting as one, Byleth gets behind the bandit leader and Leonie launches a renewed assault from the front. The man does his damndest to fight the assault on both sides, but one final stab from her lance ends the fight. The few bandits who haven’t fled yet run in terror seeing their leader fall.
Her pulse pounds in her ears. Sweat pours down her forehead. The battle’s won. Bandits won’t even think about approaching this noble’s land for years after hearing about what happened today.
Alois rides up soon after. “Great work, Captains! I’m leading the others to round up the stragglers!”
Leonie nods. “Go, but don’t worry if a few get away. Let them tell the story of what happened here.”
He salutes before pulling the reins and leading the other mercs after the bandits. Leonie catches her breath. When she looks up, Byleth is staring at her with an expression she can’t read.
“Byleth -”
Byleth sheathes her sword and raises a hand. To others, she’d be expressionless; to Leonie, there’s a smile in her eyes.
Leonie grins and meets her in the middle for a high-five. Their hands stay linked for a strange moment, and, inches apart from one another, Leonie thinks for a moment - just a moment- about pulling the other woman in and kissing her to celebrate their victory.
But the moment passes, and Byleth awkwardly retracts her hand. “Good work.”
“I could’ve handled him, you know.” A part of it’s just post-battle shit-talk, but in her heart, a part of her knows she meant it. She’s never wanted to be a damsel in distress that Byleth had to save, she’s wanted to be an equal.
“I know.”
Byleth, for all her merc talent, really needs to work on her shit-talk. It’s hard to stay mad at a woman like that - but Leonie stays tense for another reason. Byleth’s skin glistening with sweat, her face flushed from exertion, her lips just slightly parted - Leonie wonders what she would taste like if she pulled her in and pressed her lips to her collarbone.
Leonie forces herself to look away. Damn it. She’s probably still just pent up because she never finished going anywhere with that woman- she tells that lie to herself, at least, well aware she would be like this even if she did have a hookup yesterday.
Turning on her heel, Leonie goes to check on her horse. Fortunately, he’s okay - the armor’s dented and he got a good scare, but he’ll live. She runs her fingers through his mane. “I’m going to go collect the rest of our pay.”
“You’re bruising.” Byleth gestures to Leonie’s undoubtedly swollen cheek.
Great, just great. Byleth looks portrait-ready every moment of her life, even after battle - especially after battle - and Leonie’s got a bruise. It’s not fair. How does Byleth even do that?
“I will.”
But before she can go, Byleth’s reaching her hand up. Warmth flows out of Byleth’s body and into Leonie’s. The stinging on her jaw subsides.
“It could still use some ice.” Byleth’s lips curve into a slight frown. “I’ll have some when you get back.”
When you get back- there’s a hopefulness in that. If Leonie were going to run off, she wouldn’t take everyone else’s pay with her. She should know that by now. She should.
“Thanks, Byleth. I’ll be quick.”
She can feel Byleth’s stare on her back until she’s out of sight.
"You still grimace when you drink that."
Byleth blinks. Only her father has ever been able to read her expressions like that. She stares back at Leonie, studying the shadows dancing on her face.
She passes the bottle back, not sure how to answer. “Is that so?”
Leonie takes a long drink before responding. When she does, she’s staring at the bonfire, not at her. "You hate this brew, don't you?"
The feast goes on in the background. Someone broke out a fiddle and has started playing. Their conversation is dwarfed by the sounds of cheering and clapping. The other mercs are pouring their own flasks full from a keg. Only Byleth and Leonie are sharing.
The bottle changes hands again. Byleth pulls her skewer off the flame and takes a bite of meat. Prime cuts - the bounty on that bandit was higher than they thought. They've both eaten their fill, but somehow, she thinks neither of them are satisfied.
Finally, after Byleth finally takes a sip, she finds herself grimacing. "Maybe I do."
"But you still drink it." Leonie takes the bottle back. Her fingers brush against Byleth's. Electricity runs up her veins. "The Captain would've strung you up for wasting good ale."
She throws her head back and starts to down the rest of the bottle. The fire crackles, the fiddle song comes to an end. Byleth's voice is low when she says, "I like sharing with you."
(“Just be direct with her!” Alois had advised, sitting with her in that inn while Leonie was probably out kissing some barmaid. “Honesty is the best policy, you know!”)
"You like sharing with me." Leonie lets out a laugh. "I know. We - we share everything." She trips over her words as if the alcohol is hitting her. "Share this drink. Share our tent. Share this entire damned company.”
(“What if it doesn’t work out?” Byleth had asked, in return.)
Byleth purses her lips. She’s lost her appetite. “Is that wrong?”
“You shouldn’t share with me, you know.” Leonie tosses the bottle aside. “I’m greedy. I finished the entire thing when you only had a few sips.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I can’t be.” Leonie’s eyes are piercing. “I always want more.”
(“Then at least you tried,” Alois had replied. “If she left tomorrow, wouldn’t you rather know then always wonder what would’ve happened?”)
Byleth holds her stare. She wants to know. She has to know. She would have said it with anyone else, but with Leonie, it’s so much harder and she doesn’t know why. She takes a breath and asks. “Is that why you didn’t say goodbye?”
“I didn’t think I could’ve done it without kissing you.” Leonie lets out a bitter laugh. “The ‘sister I never had’. I’m fucked, aren’t I? If I’d forced myself on you, I would’ve-”
“I would’ve wanted you to.”
The party is as loud as ever just feet away, but all Byleth can hear is Leonie’s breath. The fire stops crackling, the crickets stop singing; the world belongs to only the two of them.
“Is that wrong?” Byleth asks. “I never called you my sister. To me, you’re… I don’t know. Someone I can’t sleep without. I know my heart lies still, but I still feel like it’s beating around you."
“It was Captain Jeralt who said it first.” She lets out a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “Trying to affirm us, maybe. Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid.”
“I never wanted to ask for more. It was already enough to have you back, and if you were to leave again-”
"Byleth." Leonie looks her directly in the eye, now. "Shut up and kiss me."
She does, closing the distance between them. Their first kiss is uncoordinated, almost sloppy in desperation, born of need long left unsated. Those lips that Byleth waited so long for taste like alcohol and something distinctly familiar. Distantly, she hears a few mutters of 'finally' or ‘told you’ and coin changing hands.
"I never wanted—" Byleth begins, as Leonie gets a breath of fresh air before kissing her again. Leonie's teeth graze Byleth's lower lip, drawing out a moan. "–to get too close—" Leonie's nails drag down the back of Byleth's neck, and the other woman shudders. "-in case I lost you. I couldn’t bear it."
"I’m not going anywhere again, Byleth.” Leonie picks her up, setting her on her lap. "Especially not now that I've got you right where I want you."
"If I couldn’t protect you-" Which draws off into a moan as Leonie bites Byleth's neck with a renewed vigor.
"I can protect myself." Leonie looks up at her. Byleth's usually-blank face is flushed; her lips are parted, glistening, panting slightly. "You know that."
She does know. She also knows how close she was to losing her father. If Leonie were to die tomorrow, it would be excruciating now that she’s finally been able to have her.
But if one of them were to die tomorrow anyway, she’d rather die knowing the feeling of Leonie’s lips against her own.
Byleth stops holding back. She kisses Leonie again, tongue pushing into her mouth, starting to grind on her lap. She feels Leonie starting to get hard - hard for her.
"We—" Leonie manages, in between kissing, "—should take this to the tent." Not that mercs have the greatest sense of decency or anything - she can hear a few of them collecting on bets of some sort about their relationship - but she should at least spare poor Alois.
“We should.”
But before Byleth can get up, Leonie stands, lifting Byleth into her arms. She carries her off like a prize back to their tent, the sounds of the feast going on behind them.
Once they’re alone, Leonie places her down gently before pouncing on her, wandering hands slipping up her shirt, kissing her way down her jaw.
"Fuck," Leonie says, her hand finding one of Byleth's tits, "the medicine was good to you."
Byleth's caught between a laugh and a moan, eagerly groping Leonie in return. "No, you.”
She feels Leonie's laugh against her neck before the other woman starts nibbling the exposed flesh. Her hand kneads her breast, squeezing her hard nipple in between the breadth of her fingers. Byleth pulls Leonie closer, bringing her flush with her own body.
She could feel Leonie’s erection against her butt when they were by the campfire, but it's another thing feeling her throbbing cock against her own. She might have been more shy if her lover weren't like her- but Leonie gets it in a way other women don’t. Leonie is so soft and sexy and herself, and the contrast of that softness with the hard muscle and stiff cock is driving her wild.
Leonie suckles her skin before pulling back, smirking in satisfaction - there's definitely going to be hickeys later. Not like the camp doesn't already know what they're doing. Taking advantage of her raised torso, Byleth starts pulling Leonie's clothes off. Leonie helps the process along, letting her shirt and brasserie come off and expose her tits to the cool air.
Byleth digs her nails into Leonie's bare back before pulling her back in, taking one of her nipples into her mouth. Leonie's moan is sweeter than any sound she's ever heard, and she squeezes Byleth's breast tighter as a reward.
"Yes, fuck," Leonie curses.
Passion can carry her so far, but her lack of experience betrays her. There have been opportunities before, but nobody drew her interest like Leonie. She pulls back from Leonie’s boobs, searching the other woman’s face. “Is this good?”
"You’re doing fantastic," Leonie says. “Keep going.”
Reassured, Byleth switches to the other nipple and suckles as Leonie tries to undress her in return. She only stops sucking her breast, her lips coming off with a 'pop', so she can raise her arms and have her own shirt dragged off and tossed aside. Leonie nearly rips her brasserie off in excitement, and in moments, her tits are bouncing free.
"Do you like them?" Byleth asks. She caught her looking more a few times when changing and hoped it was out of lust rather than just admiration or envy - Goddess, how she hoped. She wondered if Leonie had pictured what they would feel like in her hands, the way she had pictured the same about her.
"I love them," Leonie says. "You're so fucking perfect, Byleth."
As Leonie starts to play with her tits again, Byleth brings her hand down to Leonie's bulge. "You’re so hard.”
"All because of you." Leonie almost looks embarrassed for a moment. “Sometimes when you’d change, I’d turn away and hope you wouldn’t notice.”
Admittedly, she didn’t - only because she was trying not to stare at Leonie for the same reason. It’s almost funny in retrospect.
She pulls Leonie in for another kiss. Their tits squish together, Leonie's nipples still slick from Byleth's mouth. Byleth can feel Leonie smiling into the kiss, though. She lowers her hands to Leonie's toned ass as they make out, squeezing and kneading it.
Leonie starts grinding her hips, her cock rubbing against Byleth's. Byleth can feel her throbbing. She raises her hands to Leonie's waistband, eager to get her out of those pants as soon as possible. Leonie pulls back and stands, suddenly, taking off her pants and smallclothes in one impatient motion. Even though the tent is dim, Byleth can see a small bead of precum on the tip of Leonie's cock.
"Leonie-" She's never felt this turned on in her life. She takes the opportunity to shed her own pants and smallclothes, too, the latter garment damp with her own pre. Leonie lowers herself again, and this time, their cocks touch each other while bare. She can feel every twitch and throb; she’s so soft and warm but also so, so hard.
Byleth doesn’t know how long they stay like that, tangled in one another, kissing passionately and grinding together, but it’s both not long enough and too long at the same time- she wants more. She doesn’t know what that entails, but she wants to feel every part of Leonie. She starts by lowering her hand and wrapping it around both of their cocks, rubbing up and down the way she would her own when she’s alone.
She’s rewarded with Leonie moaning into her mouth. Leonie pulls back for air, staring down into Byleth’s eyes with the same look Byleth’s only seen when she’s closing in on prey during a hunt. “You’re beautiful. Your body is perfect.”
And Byleth doesn’t feel like she’s lying - not with Leonie so hard against her. Even though her shoulders are broader than other women’s, Leonie’s marked them up with kisses and nibbles. Even though her skin is littered with scars, Leonie’s stroked it tenderly.
“You’re gorgeous, Leonie. I’ve always thought so.” Byleth feels almost like a schoolgirl, suddenly, despite everything they’ve done so far. “I love you.”
Leonie’s eyes widen and Byleth covers her mouth - but then, Leonie smiles. “I love you, too.”
They kiss again - brief, gentle, almost chaste. Byleth’s hand went still for a moment, but she begins stroking them again. Leonie lowers her head to Byleth’s breasts, kissing all around the areola before taking a nipple in her mouth.
The feeling of Leonie’s hot mouth suckling on her nipple is addicting. All of this is; Byleth wonders how she went this long without it. It’s so dumb she didn’t tell her sooner, she thinks, suddenly.
Her hand has become slightly wet with precum. There’s something she loves about the concept of her and Leonie’s pre mixing into one; she uses it to keep stroking the two of them. She doesn’t have a great scale for dicks, but as far as she can tell, she’s a little small and Leonie is a bit bigger - her cock is smooth and feminine with a fiery red bush. It’s perfect, Byleth thinks.
“You don’t know how long I wanted to do this,” Leonie says, her breath hot against Byleth’s breast. She punctuates the sentence with another kiss to it. “Whenever you’d wake up hard- fuck-” Leonie’s cock throbs when Byleht rubs her thumb over the sensitive head, “I- I wanted to ask you if you needed help with it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Too scared. I didn’t want to lose you.” Leonie switches to Byleth’s other breast, her teeth gazing her nipple. “I want to make up for lost time.”
Byleth uses her free hand to run her hand through Leonie’s hair, tugging lightly on the scalp. Her fingers look so pretty lost among those orange locks, she thinks - it’s so amazing doing this, not just being with a beautiful woman but feeling beautiful, too.
Leonie suckles and pulls a little on the nipple before pulling back, her lips glistening. Byleth uses her grip on her to pull her into another kiss, hot and desperate; she’s started stroking both of them off as quickly as she can, enjoying the friction, the way she can feel every pulse and twitch.
“Fuck-” Leonie plants kisses all around Byleth’s face. “Can I- do you want me to fuck you?”
She answers without hesitation. “Yes. Goddess, yes.”
Byleth feels cold when Leonie pulls back. She searches in her bag for a moment before pulling out a vial. “I stocked up on this last time we were in town. How do you want me to fuck you?”
She’s so bold - Byleth loves her like this. “I want to look into your eyes, still.”
“That can be arranged.” Leonie pours some of the vial’s contents onto her cock and begins to stroke. “Lift your legs up.”
Byleth obliges, suddenly feeling very exposed. Her dick twitches, resting near her abs. Leonie takes position in front of Byleth, running her hands up and down her inner thighs. "Have you ever had anything inside of you before?"
"Only my fingers," she admits.
Leonie smirks and slides a lubricated finger inside Byleth. "You fingered yourself? Were you fantasizing about anyone?"
"I was- ah-" She arches her back as Leonie finds that one spot inside her "—imagining it was you."
As if rewarding her, Leonie adds a second finger. "How's the real thing live up to your fantasy?"
Her fingers are stretching her out and it feels amazing - each time her fingertips massages her prostate, it's like her entire body bursts with pleasure. A small pool of her own precum has formed on her abs. "You're even better than I could have dreamed of," she manages. "Fuck - keep going like that."
Leonie's more than happy to oblige. She fucks Byleth on her fingers, leaning forward as if to take a nipple in her mouth. Instead, she kisses and bites the side of her breast, suckling to ensure it leaves a mark - as if she wants everyone to know who she belongs to. Byleth imagines herself tomorrow morning, walking around the camp with her neck and chest visibly covered in Leonie's hickeys. A primal part of her brain feels like Leonie's claiming her.
Byleth relaxes her legs over Leonie's shoulders, rocking her hips back onto her fingers. Finally Leonie pulls her fingers out, leaving her feeling so empty- but then she replaces them with the tip of her cock. She looks Byleth in the eye. "Are you ready? If you want to stop, we can -"
"I'm ready." She wonders if she sounds a little too eager. "Fuck me, Leonie."
With a slow and smooth roll of her hips, Leonie fills Byleth's ass with her cock. She's never felt so full before - she can feel every single throb and it's fucking amazing. Leonie wraps her arms around Byleth's legs and lifts slightly. When she pulls back and then thrusts back in, her cock rubs against her prostate and Byleth sees stars.
"Don't you hold back your moans," Leonie says. "If they hear us, they hear us. It isn't like they don't know what we're doing."
"Leonie-" Thrust. Byleth gasps. "You're doing amazing-" Thrust. Leonie starts picking up the pace, fucking Byleth faster and faster, taking out all her frustration on her. It's hard to form words, but Byleth hopes that her moans of pleasure are enough. She's never felt like this before - so full, so sexy, waves of pleasure crashing through her body. And the fact that it's with Leonie only makes it that much better.
Leonie moves her free hand to Byleth's cock and starts to stroke it. "Can you play with your tits for me?" Leonie asks. Byleth manages to oblige - her nipples are still stiff from Leonie sucking on them. She squeezes her tits in her hands, lightly tugging the nipples. "Good girl."
Byleth gasps for air; skin smacks against skin. Leonie hunches forward, panting as she drives her cock inside Byleth, a bead of sweat falling off her forehead onto Byleth's stomach. A heat burns within Byleth's core - she knows the telltale signs of an impending orgasm, but it's never been this strong before. "I'm- I'm getting close."
"Me, too," Leonie moans. "Can I-"
"Yes!" She doesn't need to ask. "Do it! Come inside me."
Leonie thrusts a few more times and buries her cock inside Byleth as far as she can, throwing her head back in ecstasy. She can feel Leonie's cock throbbing inside her ass, filling her up with her come. Byleth comes undone at the same time, her cock spurting a few drops of clear cum onto her stomach. It only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like hours, aftershocks echoing through her body.
"That was fucking amazing." Leonie looks at Byleth again adoringly. "You were amazing."
Byleth laughs slightly. All she did was sit there and take it, she feels, but she's glad Leonie thought so. "So were you. I've never come that hard before."
"I'll make you come even harder next time."
Next time - Byleth likes the sound of that. She never wanted a one-off fling with Leonie. Not that it would have been bad, but she knew she would have wanted more. And fuck, does she want more. "I'll hold you to that."
Slowly, gently, Leonie pulls out. Byleth can feel her cum trickling out of her down her ass. Leonie stares for a moment before grabbing a handkerchief and cleaning her up, also wiping up her stomach. She tosses it aside and pulls out her waterskin, taking a long drink before passing to Byleth. "Here. Finish this for me."
Byleth takes it and does so. The water is sweet with Leonie's lips.
Once she's done, Leonie settles in next to her. She pulls Byleth close, gently kissing her cheek. "Are we girlfriends now?"
"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"
"Byleth." Leonie laughs. "If that didn't convey how much I want you, then nothing will."
"Then I'm all yours."
Leonie squeezes Byleth gently in her arms. Her heart is still beating quickly as Byleth settles in. The future may be uncertain as a merc, but Leonie's here. Her skin is warm, her arms are strong. The crickets outside are singing and Leonie's breathing is starting to slow down as sleep draws near.
And, for now, that's enough.