Been having some ISaT tech level and timeline (as in 'when backstory things happened') thoughts and want to ramble a bit:
Tech
ISaT's setting is based on your classic sword and sorcery fantasy JRPG so its easy to assume that tech wise everything is 'fantasy medieval' and call it a day but consider:
Body Craft is at bare minimum is magic sex changing surgery (earliest known equivent in our world dating to 1930) that any old person can learn to do safely on themselves in only a few months, and more likely has many many broader applications like regular old surgery, the 'combat healing' Mira and Sif use, etc.
Cameras and photos are rare enough that Odile comments on it (namely she's happy the group get a photo in the House due to them being 'so rare') yet are also common enough that everyone in the party knows about them and doesn't question the existence of a camera beyond being surprised that the mirror was one. (In our world cameras date back to the 19th century, with the earliest manufacturing of them being in 1839).
Printing presses and ways to make plenty of paper to feed those presses given absolutely everyone in this game can read, expects everyone else to know how to, and both mass produced book series and newspapers are a thing. (Note: Printing presses have existed since waaaay back but it's the mass paper manufacturing that makes newspapers and The Cursing of Chateu Castle possible that really has my eyebrows raised here, especially since neither Siffrin or Odile find either odd in any way, indicating such things are common everywhere, and while newspapers have been around since 1604 in our world, mass produced fantasy books didn't really take off until the start of the 20th century).
Food production and storage: despite being in the middle of a national disaster that almost certainly cut off trade networks and access to most suppliers for literal months now, Bonnie, a small child, is able to easily get their hands on fresh Pineapple, curry ingredients (for samosa), potatoes, plantains etc with no issues or anyone commenting on this being unusual or lucky. Oh and the only character who even brings up the concept of potential starvation is the Fishing One, and only in a sort of 'we're not at risk now but sooner or later...' kinda way due to noticing that the fish they fish up for fun are disappearing and likely being frozen. So yeah, that heavily implies Vaugarde has very good food storage tech/Craft (possibly better than ours), and likely also good food production and harvesting tech/skills also.
The Island's incredible knowledge of the stars: while the oldest known orrery in our world is dated from around 205 to 87 BC (ancient Greek, earth centric model), the fact Sif -who would've learnt this as a child/teen- is so very certain that stars are big balls of fire made up of gas is interesting as that's something our world couldn't prove the theory of until around the 1900s (note: it'd been theorized a LONG time but Sif talks like its complete facts to them .
Additionally the earliest existing record of a telescope in our world dates to a 1608 patent and we see one of those in game.
Post posting EDIT: A wonderful user qds-place pointed out that Mirabelle has anti-anxiety medication in her room. This is in both ISaT and SAaP and though we're not sure what form the medication takes (pills? Valium? Megitech esc Craft boosters???) the fact they specifically have 'anti anxiety' medication at all (as opposed to idk dragging Mira off and drugging her through the gills) is kind of impressive and if it IS modern anti anxiety pills those could be as recent in creation as the 1950s!
So um. Some high levels of tech implied in chemistry there <3
So... yeah. All this, plus the fact that the highest tech implied area, The Island, literally specialised in the study/Craft of turning wishes into reality (for a long enough time period that Wish Craft is culturally so ingrained in the King and Sif that they do it without thinking and it seems intertwined with their nation's religion) has been completely erased from memory to the point anything heavily associated with them has been forgotten, and also we only ever see Dormont aka a little village well away from the cities, it's not hard to conclude that you can basically justify giving the ISaT world any level of tech you want, so long as you lock any of the truly 'setting breaking' stuff like planes and rockets behind The Island's forgetting curse (I would've said trains too but thinking about it trains were invented in 1802 so it's honestly easy to imagine that they totally exist in the ISaT setting/Vaugarde but aren't ever on screen because rail is way too dangerous to consider using while the Curse is active and potentially time freezing things on the tracks).
Side note: We know absolutely nothing about Vaugarde's transport system but as a fan of fantasy RPGs it is honestly a travesty I have yet to see a fic that has flying dragons/wyverns or other fantasy mounts in setting.
Like, ok yes, the party would probably have wanted to use those but maybe they don't like the Curse and fled? Maybe the King's Curse targeted them first? Maybe all their handlers dropped the heroes off in Dormont and said 'Well Saviors it's been fun, but well me and Scales here are off to Poteria until things wrap up so best of luck to you' before buggering off?
This isn't really a serious complaint just. Me reminding myself/potentially other fanwork writers out there that there's a lot about the setting we just don't know about and limiting all travel to walking, horse drawn carriage and boat is not actually required.
(Also please mix up travelling to the Island. Boats are a wonderful classic and have great thematic vibes for Sif's original leaving of the Island but like. Imagine the sheer in-universe wtf of the memories of The Island suddenly coming back and people on the north coast suddenly realising there's a massive bridge, subway or underwater tunnel leading there that everyone just forgot about - potentially filled with all kinds of Sadnesses that need taking down. Or Warp Panels in a House of Change, idk XD).
Timeline
Canon notes first:
Bonnie is a preteen (8 to 12), Mira and Isa are in their early to mid 20s (with Isa slightly older), Sif is late 20s to 30, and Odile is 40+
Nille is stated to be around 18 to 20.
Siffrin ran away from home when they were a teenager (13 to 17? 18?) and this is heavily implied to be when the Island was Forgotten.
Bonnie (in ISaT specifically*) says that Nille told them that when it happened all the adults were talking about it, hence why they think The Island is close to their village.
*In Start Again a Prologue, Bonnie says that they themself remember the adults talking about the Island disappearing, which er. Is a bit impossible given they likely weren't even born yet when that happened but that can be explained away by AU differences, InsertDisc5 still finalising details between SAaP and ISaT, and/or OG Siffrin having been in the loops so long they weren't actually listening when Bonnie was talking and just 'scripted' in their head something 'close enough' to what Bonnie was saying to get the idea (note: mentioned that idea before in my post here on the differences between the House and King in Start Again vs In Stars and Time for anyone curious so er please feel free to give that a read if you haven't already).
Odile mentions remembering 'when it happened' as well and has been 'travelling for years'.
The King 'appeared out of nowhere' sometime in his adulthood, and lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King.
The King became the King as was freezing people in time long enough before his attack on the House of Dormont that everyone inside knew he was coming, there were a wall's worth of newspaper articles about him, and everyone was expecting Euphrasie to defeat him.
Mirabelle's quest began 'almost a year ago' and Sif lost their eye 'recently'.
Thoughts on the above:
Calculating when The Island was forgotten:
Sif being mid 20s to 30 and having run away from home as a teen means that The Island has to have been forgotten somewhere between 9 to 17 years ago with nine only possible if he ran away at age 17 and is only age 26 now, and seventeen being the far opposite if he ran at age 13 and is currently 30.
To narrow down the timeline: Given Sif ran away from home because he 'didn't want to eat his veggies' and 'just wanted to scare [his] parents a little bit' it's probably safe to assume Siffrin was likely on the younger end of the teen spectrum (teens run off all the time sure but with loving parents and over veggies? That screams 'kid who has not yet learned that freaking out the parents will get their ass grounded and/or yelled at a LOT and is therefore best saved for doing fun forbidden stuff that ideally the parents will never find out about' XD)
Additionally given Siffrin can't remember his age/birthday etc but Isabeau outright says near the beginning of the game "But you're older than most of the people here?" meaning Sif must be visibly older than Isa or Mira, so he's probably closer to 30 than not.
Those alone would imply the Island likely disappeared closer to the '17 years ago' side of things BUT Nille (tops 20 years old) told Bonnie that "[the Island's disappearance] was all the adults would talk about for ages" and kids usually can't remember anything prior to 4 years of age so with that in mind...
I'd say The Island most likely disappeared between 13 to 16 years ago.
Nille stuff:
This is more a general mention but. Nille is tops 20 years old. Bonnie is between 8 and 12 and doesn't remember their parents at all.
This means Nille ran away with Bonnie and gained emancipation and custody of Bonnie (if Vaugarde has formalised that kind of legal stuff) while she was at most 12 years old herself and could have in theory been as young as 6..!
Regardless, it's very likely the original home situation was that bad, Nille deserves a ton of credit for raising Bonnie as well as she has and I'd say it's very VERY likely she had a lot of help from villagers in Bambosche and/or the local House of Change in doing so.
...But also Bonnie is very adamantly 'my sister and village' and not 'my sister and [specific names who live with us]' so there's clearly by the time Bonnie was 4 or so they were living in their own place so... Yeah. Lotta drive for independence there too it seems (so the party might have more trouble adopting Nille into their group post ISaT than Bonnie might expect).
King stuff:
Already an adult 13 to 16 years ago so at bare minimum 33. Given his vibe probably much older though.
Newspapers get printed pretty quick though for there to be so much speculation and research done into his background so quick, either Vaugarde has some form of fast messaging system (something like a Chappe telegraph on top of the Houses of Change? Odile I think does mention that they'll have a message sent to let Nille know they'll be returning Bonnie...) or the King was freezing stuff for IDK around a month or two before reaching Dormont?
Alas can't find out how long it takes to walk across all of France out very easily (I'm sure the numbers are out there but my brain is pudding rn) but if we had those numbers we could probably make some guesstimates based off the rough sketched map of Vaugarde InsertDisk5 did... Which I would link but apparently the tumblr post I had it linked on has been deleted???? 'wails at this very unhappy development'
Mira's journey and Sif's eye:
We really don't know a lot but almost a year ago gives us somewhere around 9 to 11 months to spread the journey out along and after eye removal surgery the patient can out and about as soon as 2 to 6 weeks after, maybe sooner with magic healing (though full recovery/growing used to the changed spacial awareness -which Sif clearly does not have- probably can't be sped up and takes around 3 to 6 months) so um.
I'd guestimate Sif's eye injury is really recent; like two months ago tops recent.
...Which sorta explains a lot of why Bonnie is not dealing with it right now and also why the others might be trying to avoid bringing it up (since Sif clearly loves avoiding the issue but they haven't yet realised that maybe they really should bring it up even if it annoys them anyway?)
Odile with some Ka Bue speculation:
When it comes to The Island, how did Odile, presumably living in Ka Bue at the time, remember 'when it happened'?
Was the Island well known enough even on the other side of the world that it's disappearance made waves? Or was Odile herself or someone she's close to paying attention to the region?
(Like maybe her dad or a friend is/was into politics or trade, keeping up with overseas news and got concerned it could happen to Ka Bue?
I'd say 'I remember when it happened' line implies it was more immediate knowledge than being informed by a messenger much later though...)
As for Odile's 'years of travel' I have to wonder, what's left behind for her in Ka Bue? She brings up going back there quite a bit, might just miss home and possibly her father if he's still alive, but given it took her years to get here for something so personal rather than idk 'materially rewarding' I think Odile might have some kinda family estate or something back in Ka Bue...
Something she wasn't worried about potentially losing while far away, but solid enough to want to return to, beyond her father who she'd definitely want to see again if he's still around. (...But given how open she is to chilling about Vaugarde a few more months with the others, I really don't think he is alive, since well, given their respective ages and travel between Vaugarde and Ka Bue apparently taking years, there'd definitely an uncomfortably high chance of him passing away while she's gone and that seems like the thing that'd stress Odile out so... Yeah. Probably got an estate in Ka Bue she'd like to take the Family to visit/possibly sell off if she decides she'd like to live with them in Vaugarde so... Just my off the cuff headcanoning here and hoping that gives others ideas or something).
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Anyway that's all the ramble I've got in me so... yeah!
Hope this was interesting and useful for those needing a bit of a 'possible tech'/timeline calcs breakdown for the Island + a few more vague things and um. Probably will post a long winding ramble about my attempt at a ISaT Selkie AU fic I've been working on next <3
(Not to be confused with looped-140-and-counting's already existing and quite wonderful Selkie Siffrin AU which already has a completed oneshot fic, a snippet of sequel, two snippets of prequel/Sif flashbacking and I believe a comic too, all of which I highly recommend <3)
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EEEE BACK AGAIN CUZ YOUR WRITING IS YUMMYYY
Valeria, Graves, König, and Soap (separately) who has a s/o who's into poetry?
like maybe they're a poet or a librarian or something.
bonus points for a silly little cozy aesthetic dressed s/o :33
MANY HUGSSSS
-☁️
(CLOUD ANON)
Hello again! Welcome back! I'm glad my silly writings are enjoyable to people! I wrote it so Reader is a librarian and writes poetry both, in most of these! I think I forgot for Soap! I hope these are good enough! Thank you very much for the request! ^^
Soap, Valeria, Graves, König with an S/O who likes Poetry
Soap: While he may have read some poetry throughout his life, but only because he was forced to at school, he doesn’t care for literature like that in the slightest. Sure, he can understand some metaphors and some messages a piece of writing might try to convey, but he won’t go out of his way to buy himself an anthology of William Blake. He doesn’t have the time to read, and he doesn’t really want to either, he’d much rather go outside and take a hike. However, once you come up to him with one of your poems in hand, he’s more than happy to sit down and read through it. The way the language flows, the way the words intertwine with each other and form something unmistakably beautiful, it has him in a chokehold after a while. He’ll always cheer you on, quietly, while writing and read everything that you put on paper. While he might not be the best at giving criticism, he can use his words to reassure you that your writing is, indeed, the bomb. If you ever release your works then you can be certain he’ll be the first to buy a copy of the book, maybe even several because he loves and supports you that much. He loves the cozy aesthetic you have. Beige cardigans with either matching trousers or skirts. If you’re roughly the same size then let him borrow one of your cardigans, he wants to feel for himself how warm and cozy they are. It’s not usually his style, but trying them on won’t kill him. He actually also kind of likes it when you send him pictures of you drinking tea or coffee with a book on the table. It’s, as mentioned, very cozy, very comforting. You’re living your best life, you’re happy and thriving, and that’s all that matters to him.
Valeria: Unlike Soap, she has picked up books after school. The only poem she has read after school was the Divine Comedy by Alighieri since it sounded interesting to her at the time. She never finished it, though, having become far too busy with the military and, afterwards, the cartel. She doesn’t particularly miss reading either, though. Maybe sometimes, when she just wants to have a nice and quiet day, she might pick up a book she found just lying around, but that book could contain just about anything. While she might not always have the time to read your poetry, it will likely be sitting on her desk for a few days before she can read it, she will visit you at your library. It’s calm there, it’s quiet, and likely not a place anyone would suspect someone of her caliber to be. While she might not particularly be there for the books, you could read her some poetry every once in a while. Doesn’t have to be at the library either, you could just check out a book and read to her at home. She can appreciate something like that, you spending time with her, reading your favorite poem in a soft, almost mellow, voice. She gets to see you happy, after all, and that’s what she’s usually striving for. Even if that library isn’t doing too well, she’ll always make sure that it’s up and running because you love your job as much as you do. She, too, likes your aesthetic. It’s fairly neutral, it doesn’t stand out too much. While it might be a bit boring to her occasionally, since you likely would look just as lovely in something a bit more flashy, she won’t tell you to dress you any differently. In fact, she might instigate you a bit and egg you on by buying you expensive coffee beans or expensive hand made tea. The most aesthetically pleasing tea pots and cups will be yours, in this case you won’t even need to ask her.
Graves: Graves has not picked up many books after school either. The occasional book on business and history, yes, but nothing that was written lyrically. It never interested him, he had to analyze poems at school and that was the start of his disdain for poetry. He never did well with writing down what a specific metaphor might mean, so he never got any good grades on that. At first, he won’t be very happy to see you’ve brought him a poem, even if it was written by you, but he won’t complain, he’ll read it and give you honest criticism. He’s better with constructive criticism than Soap because he can still see the poem’s flaws while being nice and uplifting about it so you can do better next time. It likely won’t ignite a spark for poetry in him, but he has a soft spot for you, so he’ll read anything you want him to see. On the off-chance he has time to visit you, he will. While he might not be as quiet as Valeria, he tries, but he just really wants to converse with you. He doesn’t get to see you often, so it wouldn’t be too unlikely for him to waltz up to your library in his gear either. He tries not to scare the people, but it doesn’t always work. Tries to convince you to go home early with him so you can pay attention to him instead of burying your nose in some books. It doesn’t work, but hey, an attempt has been made. He really digs that entire cozy aesthetic. You look warm, you look soft, you look like you want and need a good hug from him. He’s a very touchy person in general, but that goes up by 100% since he likes the feeling of your cardigan, it’s made of wonderful fabric. If you’re more of a coffee drinker, like he is, then you can drink some coffee at a lovely cafe together, he knows plenty of nice and calm places. Tea, too, but you’ll be alone in that endeavor since he’s a coffee drinker first and a human second. Send him some cute pics of you, though, he’ll appreciate them after a mission and tell you how good you look.
König: He sort of likes poetry, actually. While he hasn’t read enough to actually have a favorite, he likes the way it sounds when read, either out loud or in your head. While he, by no means, could ever write a poem himself, English or German, he does like to read some every once in a while. He has an anthology at home he never got around to finishing. It’s a calming hobby. However, he finds himself with a favorite poet once you show him your writing. He’s very supportive of you, asking you fairly often about your progress and how you’re doing, answering any and all questions you might have that might bring you some inspiration. Whenever he writes it’s somewhat dry, mostly because he’s used to writing reports these days and nothing else, so seeing your flowery, beautiful language makes him smile a bit. It makes him imagine the scenery very vividly, even if you don’t specify too much of your setting. He, too, will come visit you at work when he can, but he won’t make a ruckus. If he can talk to you, that’s fine, if he can help you sort some books, he’d love to, but if you just want to do your work in quiet, then he’ll grab himself a nice book and sit down quietly until you have time for him again. Might ask you some questions regarding some books, might ask you for some recommendations as well, but he respects your want for quiet. He also really likes your aesthetic, it’s such a contrast to what he’s used to. You don’t look like you’re fighting wars, you look as though you sit down at a park bench during late spring or early autumn to read some books, and he thinks that’s very nice. If you want to, then the two of you can sit together in silence while you’re reading some poetry and he’s reading the Schachnovelle. He’s more than happy to tell you about what he read or listen to you reading some of the poetry out loud as well. It’s nice, it’s calming. It’s so far away from what he normally does at his job, he could fall asleep to the comfort of it all. If you’re reading at home, he might put his head in your lap and just take a nap.
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Hii I loved your Alec fan fic sm any more Alec x f reader smut coming ?😭
Come As You Are
A/N: of course more Alec is coming, I just need time love. This one is for my midsize girlies ❤️
Summary: The Reader is feeling insecure about herself and Alec wants to help
Tags: 18+ minors dni, insecurity and mentions of body dysmorphia and self hatred, praise kink, body worship, consensual possessive language, and some fluff :)
The woman in front of her was thin and tall, with a beautiful head of curls and dark skin. Her eyes were shrewd as they took in DS Y/N Warner, standing in her frumpy suit with a notepad at the ready. Yet she certainly didn't look poorly on DI Alec Hardy, not that he would have noticed her little flirts. She angled her hips one way, answered his questions primarily, and smiled widely at his words, always looking right at him. If Y/N wasn't careful and reminding herself that she was on the clock, she had half a mind to kiss Alec right there and claim him. But she didn't.
DI Alec Hardy went to the car, and Y/N lingered for just a moment to clarify one of the points that got fuzzy.
"Right, and you work for Joan Topper Model Agency? Not to be confused with Topper Jane's Agency?" Y/N asked, checking the reference she had from the lady who'd referred them to this woman.
The woman nodded, her lips close to a sneer, "it's a very elite agency, Joan Topper."
"I'm sure."
The woman cocked her head to the side, "are you?"
DS Warner swallowed hard. She did not like not liking other women, it made her feel like a bad feminist. She should overthrow the ideas of women hurting other women and focus on the more particular idea that men made it up to make women dislike one another. And while that was very likely, it wasn't impossible for two things to exist at once. Men try to make women hate each other, and some women are just bitches. Not because they're women but because they're people.
And this woman, who couldn't possibly be over 21, with her gorgeous figure and curly hair, just happened to be one of those special humans. And it irked Y/N.
"You can't be over a size 4," the woman pressed. It was unclear if she meant you couldn't be over a size 4 in the agency, or in life. Her eyes lingered at Hardy's retreating form. "Men don't like it much."
DS Warner smiled tightly and nodded, walking back to the car and quickly getting in so she wouldn't have to see that woman again. Alec didn't notice the change in Y/N's mood, he wasn't always the best at that.
Instead of going to the station, they went back to Y/N's house. Alec hadn't actually moved in, but that was more of a title really. He stayed there nearly every night, had a section of the closet, and referred to it as home. They both knew that once they wrapped up this case, they would set aside a weekend and officially move in, but when cases got busy neither felt they could take even a day off. Work got in the way like that.
"Right, I'm going to pop in the shower then I'll be down to help," Y/N said, toeing off her shoes at the door.
"M'kay," Hardy answered with a wave of his hand, files in his arms.
She went up to the loo, started the shower and made quick work of her uniform. Her image in the mirror made her stop.
Normally, people described the moment before a shower as some of the most attractive. Moments when all of a sudden insecurities melt away and you could spend ages doing dance battles with yourself. This was not one of those days for Y/N. Maybe it was the insecurities she already had buried beneath the surface, maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the woman who had subtly insulted her appearance, but whatever the cause she found she hated what she saw.
Y/N always felt a little trapped when she expressed her insecurities to friends. She couldn't say she was thin, because she wasn't. But she couldn't say she was fat, because she wasn't. She was an awkward middle ground that certainly didn't feel sexy. Her thighs touched when she stood, covered in little stretch marks and led to a small bush she tried to trim but it always looked wrong. Along her boobs there were stretch marks like purple tiger stripes, and she had small red bumps she couldn't explain. Of course in between the two lied the worst of the worst, a belly just bloated enough to look pregnant when she very much wasn't. Nope, Y/N was not a fan of this body.
Her cheeks flushed with emotion and the heat of the shower, and she tried to ignore it as she got in and scrubbed off the day. Her hair was clean so she left it up and tried to calm herself when she noticed her efforts were too harsh. God damn it, this was not what she had intended.
Not long after she joined Hardy at the kitchen table, sipping her hot chocolate he'd made, and pouring over the case files. Her mind began to wander but she was intent on stopping it.
"You alright?" Alec's thick Scottish accent broke her from the bank's reports, and it was among the first words he'd spoken all evening.
"Y-yeah," she said, not quite knowing what he was referring to. "Why?"
"You don't seem right."
Y/N didn't know how to respond, so she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm ... fine?"
He narrowed his eyes. Alec Hardy felt like he was in a bit of a limbo at the moment. His instinct was telling him that something was bothering Y/N, she seemed sad and distant. However, Alec was not known for having the best instinct with people and their feelings. He couldn't tell if he should leave it or press on. But it was DI Alec Hardy and he wasn't a fan of lying. "After that last interview you've gone funky."
If Y/N wasn't so uncomfortable trying to think of how to not expose this lame part of herself to Alec, she'd have focused on him using the word funky. "I didn't like her much."
"Did she say something?"
"More or less."
"Warner stop evading the question and tell me what's wrong." His voice was intense as he spoke, chocolate eyes imploring.
"I don’t like my body, I'm ugly," she said quickly, as though it would take away everything else.
Alec blinked, "wot?"
"I'm ugly and fat, Alec."
DI Alec Hardy did not know a lot of things. He was shit at expressing emotions and understanding others, he did not understand social media, thought scotch eggs were gross, had a temper, and was shit at accepting help. But he knew one thing. His Y/N was not ugly.
"No you're not." She laughed bitterly and looked away. He said it louder, his tone more stern. "Y/N you are not ugly and you're not fat."
Y/N's throat was tight as she said, "thanks Alec." She didn't mean it, they both knew she didn't mean it.
"Y/N-"
"It's fine, can just get on with it?" She snapped, her voice a hair away from a yell. Alec saw her retreat further into herself. "Sorry."
He sighed, closing his eyes to try and make his thinking clearer. Alec was proper rubbish at dealing with any of this. But then he had any idea, an idea she probably didn't expect. The detective stood up and walked towards the stairs.
His ever inquisitive Y/N craned her neck to watch as he went up the steps. He was impressed she managed to last a full minute without following after him, in which time he removed his jacket and shoes, before she appeared in the bedroom door frame with a questioning look on her face.
"C'mhere."
She did, though her steps were slow as she watched him with a shrewd eye. He took her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. Alec's hands were always calloused and he never knew why, as he didn't do much physical labor. She liked how they felt.
Alec brought her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on each of them, "I love your hands."
He could see the little flush on her cheeks start up, but she didn't say anything else. Alec went to the edge of the bed, bringing her to sit between his legs, his chest up against her back. His hands ran up her arms, "I love that when I do that you get goose flesh."
"Alec what're you doing?"
"You've got lovely arms, lovely shoulders." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin of both. Then Alec pointed a finger in front of them, towards the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. They painted a lovely picture, a woman held by her man as he lavished soft touches on her. He planned to make the picture prettier. Though he wasn't always confident in sex, he was confident that he loved Y/N and that her self image was wrong. And that confidence overrode all other feelings of inadequacy.
"Alec..." she didn't know what to say. She had a feeling she knew what he was up to and she didn't know if she could handle it. He was being awfully sweet. And the scratch of his beard made her sigh. His fingers came to the straps of her flimsy, pajama tank top, pulling them until they snapped back on her skin.
In the mirror, Alec glanced up and made eye contact with her. His face was kind, tired but not of her. His hair was dark and mused, his eyes so chocolate it hurt to look at. And his freckles, the most wonderful part of the man was the freckles that ran along his face as though he never left the sun as a child. She nodded slightly, knowing that he was asking for permission.
The straps fell down, and Alec pushed the top down until her breasts fell from them, heavy and heaving against her chest. Almost instantly she felt a growing hardness against her bum, and she flushed incredulously. His hands came round and held her breasts, letting them overflow in his touch.
Throughout their entire relationship, Alec was not one who would just speak. He was the silent brooding type. The kind of guy who grunted when he asked if he fancied a pint - the answer was always no, he didn't drink. But Alec knew Y/N loved his voice, she called it sexy and he'd caught her getting off to a voicemail of his once. Whenever he got loud in the office, had to yell at someone, he noticed the way her thighs would clench and her cheeks flush. So while he was most certainly clunky at it, he tried his best to speak through his thoughts for her, hoping it could help her get to him.
"They’re one of my favorite bits of you," he murmured, his voice suddenly throaty as though he was struggling to speak with the sight of your breasts out and about.
He pressed them together, showing the deep line of her cleavage. "Don't get that on just anyone, now do ya?"
Y/N wanted to believe him, to look in the mirror and see a creature that was as attractive and he believed, but she just couldn't. Her words were soft but they were there as she said, "I have stretch marks and bumps."
Alec's brow furrowed and he held her chest tighter before letting them fall back. He was fully hard now and didn't shy away from letting her feel the affect she had on him.
"No one can expect your skin to remain the same your whole life. Doesn’t make it ugly." He said, kiss the junction between her neck and shoulder. She leaned her head back into him, letting herself feeling those beautifully calloused hands as they teased at her nipples, those soft lips kissing her skin.
He slowly dragged the tank top down until it met the waistband of her shorts. She did not look down to see the image in the mirror, this was not the body part she wanted to see. His hands were featherlight as they travelled down her abdomen, running his fingers along the rolls of her skin. The thought alone made her want to cry. Alec let out a breath, "you're so fucking soft."
That was not quite what she wanted to hear, soft wasn’t a word she felt was a good thing. Though that hadn't been his intention, Alec thought soft was one of the best things a body could be. He tried again, bringing his hands to her hips, "I love your belly. It's cute."
"It's not sexy."
"Fuck yeah it is," he argued. Alec pulled away from her and went to kneel in front of the bed. He spread her legs and went on his knees, putting his face right at her chest, which he noticed right away. Hardy brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, and he blew out a breath. She was a vision, leaned back, heavy breasts on full display and legs spread like a goddess.
He pressed a kiss in between her breasts, letting his tongue nip out to taste her skin. She giggled and said, "Alec!"
He brought his mouth down to her stomach, kissing each roll and holding her tightly. His beard itched and cause a pink rash to form, but she didn't have the urge to fight it. All along her abdomen, DI Alec Hardy peppered hot, wet kisses with nips of teeth. Then he growled softly, turning to see the mirror and force her to see what he saw. A stomach with small little love bites. "I decide what I find sexy. And that's sexy."
She hadn't even realized that she had started crying until it dripped down her face. It wasn't a sad tear, not really. It was more an overwhelming realization that Alec wasn't messing about, he wasn't saying this because he loved her. As his hands ran up her legs, prickly from unshaven hairs, he kissed and growled against her skin with the kindest love she'd felt. And she gladly let him remove her panties and shorts until she was bare, spread for him.
"I love your breasts and I love your belly, but these are some of my favorites," Alec said and he moved her thighs to sit on his shoulders. He bit at her thighs, lowering his kiss with each moment. Then he was there at the apex of her legs, with her slightly hairy, fully glistening cunt. His hot breath hit her as he murmured, "hey darling."
She shuddered, her body involuntarily moving to the sound of his voice. She had to stop the yelp that tried to escape when he extended his tongue and licked her bottom to top.
“I love that you’re so responsive down here,” Alec said between peppered kisses, letting his teeth ever so softly graze across her clit before sliding his tongue into her opening. Her muscles clenched, thighs beginning to shake as he lavished her. “I love the taste of you.”
He moved up, letting his beard scratch along her inner thighs in the way he knew she liked. Alec brought a careful finger to her opening, sliding it in with ease. She started to grind against it, hips bucking to meet his tongue as he began proper work on her clit. His fingers were long as they pumped in and out, curling i side her in the way that made her gasp. He laughed against her, he fucking laughed. A deep chuckle that radiated through her body, sending her arousal through the roof until her thighs were clamped round his head.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against her. But she heard it, and practically shoved him into her. Then Alec said, “you look so beautiful, you’re doing so good love. I’m so proud of my girl.”
Y/N cried out as she came, her body convulsing with each wave. It was positively impossible to describe, a kind of hazy pleasure that takes you from this world until you’re left panting on a bed, wondering how your antisocial detective boyfriend learned to do all of that. Her legs spasmed, squeezing against him in the way he adored.
Alec eased her through it, his kisses soft and messy. Her juices covered his face, were in his beard, but he seemed to proudly display her. Her thighs were going to be red from beard rash and covered in little love bites, some more possessive than others and she relished them all.
“Such a beautiful darling,” Alec said, rising slowly as he moved up her body. “I love your body, it’s bloody sexy is what it is. But my favorite part, yes even more than your breasts, is your face.”
Then he leaned in and kissed her, he kissed her with everything he had. It was rhat desperate, dizzying sort of kiss where words went unspoken but understood. She sighed, crying but now it wasn’t a hatred. Just like she realized earlier, and now it seemed to sink, Alec loved her regardless. He didn’t just put up with insecurities, he fought to fight them with her and show her what he saw. She might not see it yet, but to know that someone like him had eyes like that was comforting.
He tasted of her, of her musk and sweat and sex, and she found it embarrassingly arousing to know it was her wetness that did this to him.
Alec came up to the bed quickly, getting in the same position from earlier. Him behind her with her body in between his legs. Alex brought her to lean on him so her neck was ready for biting, “I fucking love your neck.”
“Bloody vampire!” She laughed.
Alec chuckled, bring his hands down her sides to grip her thighs. “That so?” With a strong yet gentle touch, he spread her thighs wide enough to rest on his, locking her in place.
“Alec I need you…”
“Oh what a pretty picture you make,” Alec whispered along her skin as he removed his cock from his trousers, going under her arse to tease at her opening. “Oh look at you, you’re gorgeous. My beautiful angel grinding against my cock, spread for the world to see. Perhaps another day. Shall I show you just how lovely you are, darling?”
Fuck. For someone who’d not done much dirty talk, he was damn good at it. She whined for him to take her, and he happily obliged, sinking into her with a slow thrust.
He let out a hiss at the feeling of her taut muscles clenching around him, holding him in place as though she couldn’t hear to lose him. She gasped the fullness, relishing in it and grinding just enough to cause Alec to make a guttural sound.
“You keep goin like that Angel and I won’t last much longer.”
“I don’t want you to,” she said, moving her hips again.
That movement broke Alec. He kept one hand tight on her hip, the other snaking down her body to start desperate ministrations on her clit. He thrust into her with a fury, bucking his hips to get as deep as he can. Y/N groaned, shocked at how quickly he was bringing her to climax.
“Come in me,” she said between breathy sighs. “Make me yours.”
Something in that sent the man wild. He stood, quickly helping prop Y/N up doggy style on the bed, and began to truly fuck her the way they both intended. They were so close to climax, his strokes uneven and wild, her clit buzzing with life.
“Say it again, angel. Tell me to make you mine.”
“I’m yours,” she groaned. “Come in me, I need you. I’m yours, make me yours.”
And he did, falling slightly into her and having to support himself on the mattress. He groaned loudly, those freckles flushing. But he knew she hadn’t come again, and he kept himself inside her as he leaned down, “now, any man you ever fuck you’ll know I’m here. You’re mine, angel. My darling.”
With a flick of his wrist, she came undone.
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