#sarya lavellan

She’s surprised by his answer but quite pleased. Her fingers type quickly.

Sarya: what would you have done if you had?

His response is instant and she wonders if he too is lying in his bed.

Solas: A countless number of things that I would also later regret.

Sarya: Like what?

Solas: Perhaps we should speak of this another time?

She chuckles to herself.

Sarya: Okay. Until then, I'm going to use my imagination. I wouldn’t mind if you used yours…😏

Solas: I…look forward to hearing about the ways you used your imagination in the future.

Sarya: Interesting. Well, have a good night Solas.

Solas: You as well.

She flops back on her pillow with a stupid grin on her face and then decides to flop over and take a very flattering picture of her ass. She does some quick edits on her phone and sends it to Solas with a little message about some help with his imagination.

—

His room is dimly lit with only his reading lamp on and when his phone buzzes again, he tells himself not to check. But her name pops up and he can’t resist. He opens her message and he can’t focus on her words. Her back is exposed, even in the shadowed lighting he can see the tenuous strain of her muscles as she stretches out, ass in the light. He is compromised. He should look away. Or close it out. Maybe even delete it altogether. But she’s wearing underwear that highlights the roundness of her ass and just barely covers her entrance. Avoiding his imagination would be the cordial thing to do. The respectful thing. He feels twenty years younger, looking at this photo on his phone and he remembers a time when this sort of game was a fun one.

Finding a decent spot to take his own selfie, as they call it, he shirks his pants down to expose the lower half of his abs but leaves enough covered to keep her guessing. A tasteful work of art. He will showcase what he has to offer without showing her. He takes a picture of his hand next, two fingers curled in sensual implication and sends them back to her.

Sarya: And here I was expecting a dick pic…

He can’t help but smirk.

Solas: Good night, Sarya.

His phone goes quiet and he makes sure to delete the photo of her ass before crawling back into his bed. He picks up the mystery novel he’d been reading and reads to keep his own imagination from running wild. Reads until he can’t read anymore. Reads until he sleeps.

—

She’s staring at the pictures Solas sent for far too long. He knows what he’s doing and it’s almost cruel. But clever. Revved up and already on a high, she has a need that must be met. She allows her mind and her fingers to wander. She runs her hand down her chest, past her torso and further, through her thatch of thick auburn hair and presses a finger to her clit.

She lets his name slip off her tongue. Testing it out, letting the sound of it carry her through her longing. She will be sure to tell him of this—the way she used his name. And she wonders if he’ll take her when she tells him or if he will make her wait. Reality says he’ll wait but her fantasy says he won’t. He would want to feel how wet she is for him.

She dips her fingers inside and says his name again like a gasp. And she wonders what this night could have been. A night beyond a kiss with bodies against the wall.

Sliding her fingers up, she adds pressure to her clit, already sensitive and swollen. She gives it the attention it needs. Then imagines how the night would’ve gone.

Two fingers and she pictures her legs wrapped around his waist, his pants undone and hanging off his hips. Three fingers and he’s fucking her against the wall. She rides them, clenching and bucking against her hand. Every image of Solas bringing her to the brink of satisfaction until she finally hits her climax. The crash back to reality is a little hazy and his name is still two syllables slipped off her tongue.

Fingers stilled and her breath heavy, she opens her eyes to her empty room. The fan is cold and she smacks it away. Rises from her bed and pads over to the shower. While the water runs down her body, she imagines herself curled up in his arms, covered in his warmth and treasured by his kisses. She sighs, turns off the water and wraps herself in a towel, hoping he’s home imagining a similar scenario.

As she closes her for sleep, she vows to see him again tomorrow.