fanfic, farscape, ffvii, ffviii, ffx, ffx-2
i've had one comment so far on my fic. =D i'd already noticed that things posted on fanfiction.net get more reviews than things do here, but i don't like that site. i'd rather post things here: at least they're safe if my computer finally dies, and i get the occasional comment.
anyway, i don't think i can write anymore today and i should probably get off the net anyway.
farscape, john crichton/aeryn sun.
"she is peaceful then and then alone."
g, no warnings.
he watches her sleep. she is peaceful then and then alone: and not always, as he noticed the last time he came to her room to watch her. she is as untouchable and alien as she is familiar and desirable. it's a cruel torment, he thinks. the torment of tantalus.
sometimes he's sure she knows he's watched her. and yet she doesn't say anything. that's unlike her. aeryn. aeryn sun. a woman of steel that on earth men would fall over themselves for.
crichton must admit he's doing a fair amount of falling, too.
final fantasy vii, sephiroth/zack.
"it's zack's face he watches avidly."
nc17, sex. written for 50_smutlets, theme "voyeurism".
cloud stops just before he reaches the doorway. he is quite sure from the noises he can hear that he should turn around, walk around the complex once or twice, and then come back, claiming it had taken him some time to make himself presentable. instead, he inches closer to the door, which is open a chink. almost invitingly. it isn't easy to see into the room. he's almost afraid of falling from this awkward angle and betraying himself.
it is zack and sephiroth. the very idea makes cloud catch at his breath at the same time as he realises he's already half hard. he bites his lip hard to remind himself to keep silence. he is not going to walk away from this - not if he can watch, and not be caught, anyway. he carefully braces himself against the sides of the door and moves closer to the little chink.
zack is on his back half on and half off sephiroth's desk. his legs are spread wide and sephiroth is leaning over him, one hand on the desk for support, the other holding zack's head still as he leans down to kiss him. when he thrusts into him, zack cries out and cloud stifles a whimper. he never thought about zack this way before.
a wry voice inside assures him that he will think of zack like this again. many times.
sephiroth grunts softly when he's fully inside zack, and zack is squirming. they kiss again and cloud swallows hard. he tries to remind himself of where he is but all the same he finds himself pushing his hand into his pants. he's fully hard now, hard and aching, and he squeezes his cock gently to alleviate the ache, closing his eyes. and then opening them again as zack cries out again, straining to see every detail.
it's sephiroth he's dreamed of before. but it's zack's face he watches avidly, fancying he knows what causes every flicker in that expression. he imagines sephiroth inside him, hard and deep, himself in zack's position, and groans under his breath.
he backs away when zack reaches up to slip his arms round sephiroth's neck, lifting himself up to press against him. he hears zack's cry of orgasm and runs before he hears sephiroth, runs to find somewhere private.
he will just have to be late after all.
final fantasy viii, seifer almasy/squall leonhart.
"squall reaches for his reward so eagerly."
nc17, sex. written for fated_children, themes "finder's keepers", "smile", "hot water".
it glitters on the floor of the showers for a moment before seifer snatches it up, the chain clinking against itself as it pools in the cupped palm of his hand. leonhart's eyes are open wide: not in fear, as seifer would like, but in awkward realisation that once again seifer has a hold on him.
pretty, seifer says, and makes a move as if to toss it away. squall's eyes follow and so he keeps it, walking over to his clothes - sure on his bare feet despite the wet of the showers that extends far beyond the tiled area: the showers are useless like so much of garden. seifer pours it carefully into his pocket without looking at squall and then turns to him with a dangerous smile. to keep it safe, he says, a little taunting, and then advances.
squall's hands fly up, resting on seifer's chest, not pushing him away, but a firm barrier all the same.
do you want it back?
yes, squall says, swallowing hard. seifer watches the movement of his adam's apple and smiles again, nodding. he looks at squall, at his wet hair plastered to his head and his nipples pebbled and his cock half hard despite his uncertain expression. seifer touches him, curiously. only touching, a brush of his fingers and no more. squall's breaths quicken, deepen. his cock hardens more at the touch.
kiss me, seifer orders, and after a moment, squall does. their lips press together awkwardly: they are not made for each other by any stretch of the imagination. seifer imagines he can taste squall, though all he can taste is shampoo diluted by water. he will push squall. perhaps he will be generous, but first he must push. he swallows thickly and nods at squall, gives him new orders.
squall takes in a long breath and slides to his knees. this is not the first time squall has done this, though who he's been with before seifer couldn't say and doesn't want to think about. all he wants to think about is the cool water of the shower spattering him and the warm wetness of squall's mouth closing around him, taking him deep without another word said. he stares down at squall and watches the water flow over his back and feels squall's mouth move around his cock.
carefully, he slides his fingers into squall's hair, grabbing a handful he will use for leverage. he doesn't need it, though: squall sucks harder, tugging a curse from him and making his footing feel more precarious.
make me come, he orders, after a moment, and squall glances up. his eyes are not afraid now: guarded, but unafraid.
yes, he says, simply, drawing back. he licks at the head and seifer bites his lip. he opens his mouth and draws seifer in again, and seifer closes his eyes. he'd praise squall if he had the voice, praise him like a dog learning a new trick. his voice would shake and shiver if he did.
it crawls up his back and makes his fist tighten in squall's hair. it makes his cock twitch in squall's mouth and wrenches at his restraint so that he pushes forward, filling squall's mouth completely. it makes his treacherous mouth gasp out squall's name as he has gasped it to an empty room so many times and it makes his orgasm feel like fire: white-hot as he thrusts forward, filling squall's mouth completely, makes him groan as he pulls back.
one hand rests against a tiled wall for support as he smiles at squall. dangerously. as always. squall's cock is hard now. his lips look fuller, reddened, and his smile is unfamiliar and unwelcome.
seifer would reach down and take squall in hand, make him gasp as he gasped. he would kiss him hard and take his breath into his own body when he gasped. ordinarily. but this is not an ordinary day and he just came in that mouth: so no kisses. and no mutual pleasure.
bye, he says, casually, stepping away to grab his towel. everything is damp: himself, the towel, the air. piece of shit showers.
the necklace with its heavy pendant clatters on the floor. seifer is gratified by the way squall grasps at it. a trinket in payment for services rendered, like a whore, and squall reaches for his reward so eagerly.
he turns to go.
final fantasy x, yuna/rikku.
"you must remember that she does not intend to stay."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "clinging", "frost/ice/snow", "exposed", "making the best of it".
yuna looks vulnerable there: cold, maybe, shivering a little in her sleep. rikku feels the cold, anyway, used to the warmth of the desert, a constant blast of heat that makes sickly babies wriggle and gurgle unhappily as they cook slowly. rikku was not a sickly baby, but she feels like one now as she tries to warm herself up. her arms feel skinnier than ever now when fat would be some insulation from the chill.
maybe yuna feels it too because of the al bhed in her blood. either way, rikku creeps closer to her, eventually putting an arm over her slim waist and pressing up against her back. she stirs a little in her sleep; without thinking, rikku hushes her, fingers patting ineffectually at her hair in a soothing manner.
yuna doesn't wake, and with a sense of relief rikku settles down to wrap all around her, giving them both warmth in the cold place.
the end is coming, yes. laying there like that, rikku remembers how they warned her. in the end, she will sacrifice herself. you must remember that she does not intend to stay.
rikku ignores the warning as she ignores all warnings. if yunie is going away, well, she's going away. that doesn't mean she can't share her warmth now.
final fantasy x-2, tidus/yuna.
"i am real, he promises."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "soft/smooth", "little things", "watching".
her skirt flutters in the wind. it tugs at her hair, too, and stings some pink into her cheeks. tidus feels a strange kind of peace in watching: a peace he has never known before. she is softness itself, for now, windblown and airy: feathers on the wind. she is not all softness, but right now, she is.
i know you're watching me, she says, quietly, and he jumps down from his vantage point and puts his arm around her, resting his hand on the curve of her hip.
couldn't resist, he shrugs.
i know the feeling, she whispers, and she reaches out to touch him then, his arm, his shoulder, his face. checking he is real. her hand does not go through him and yet her touches are as cautious as if she believes it will. he is not a person to stand and stare, but for now he stands, and he can't help but stare. there was no peace for him away from this girl. this is where he belongs: guardian to a summoner still when there are no summoners, no aeons, and no guardians.
guardian to a lover.
when she kisses him, her arms slip around his neck and her body presses hard to his. the softness is gone in desperation and he kisses back as eagerly, his hand on the small of her back.
i am real, he promises.
she only smiles.
anyway, i don't think i can write anymore today and i should probably get off the net anyway.
farscape, john crichton/aeryn sun.
"she is peaceful then and then alone."
g, no warnings.
he watches her sleep. she is peaceful then and then alone: and not always, as he noticed the last time he came to her room to watch her. she is as untouchable and alien as she is familiar and desirable. it's a cruel torment, he thinks. the torment of tantalus.
sometimes he's sure she knows he's watched her. and yet she doesn't say anything. that's unlike her. aeryn. aeryn sun. a woman of steel that on earth men would fall over themselves for.
crichton must admit he's doing a fair amount of falling, too.
final fantasy vii, sephiroth/zack.
"it's zack's face he watches avidly."
nc17, sex. written for 50_smutlets, theme "voyeurism".
cloud stops just before he reaches the doorway. he is quite sure from the noises he can hear that he should turn around, walk around the complex once or twice, and then come back, claiming it had taken him some time to make himself presentable. instead, he inches closer to the door, which is open a chink. almost invitingly. it isn't easy to see into the room. he's almost afraid of falling from this awkward angle and betraying himself.
it is zack and sephiroth. the very idea makes cloud catch at his breath at the same time as he realises he's already half hard. he bites his lip hard to remind himself to keep silence. he is not going to walk away from this - not if he can watch, and not be caught, anyway. he carefully braces himself against the sides of the door and moves closer to the little chink.
zack is on his back half on and half off sephiroth's desk. his legs are spread wide and sephiroth is leaning over him, one hand on the desk for support, the other holding zack's head still as he leans down to kiss him. when he thrusts into him, zack cries out and cloud stifles a whimper. he never thought about zack this way before.
a wry voice inside assures him that he will think of zack like this again. many times.
sephiroth grunts softly when he's fully inside zack, and zack is squirming. they kiss again and cloud swallows hard. he tries to remind himself of where he is but all the same he finds himself pushing his hand into his pants. he's fully hard now, hard and aching, and he squeezes his cock gently to alleviate the ache, closing his eyes. and then opening them again as zack cries out again, straining to see every detail.
it's sephiroth he's dreamed of before. but it's zack's face he watches avidly, fancying he knows what causes every flicker in that expression. he imagines sephiroth inside him, hard and deep, himself in zack's position, and groans under his breath.
he backs away when zack reaches up to slip his arms round sephiroth's neck, lifting himself up to press against him. he hears zack's cry of orgasm and runs before he hears sephiroth, runs to find somewhere private.
he will just have to be late after all.
final fantasy viii, seifer almasy/squall leonhart.
"squall reaches for his reward so eagerly."
nc17, sex. written for fated_children, themes "finder's keepers", "smile", "hot water".
it glitters on the floor of the showers for a moment before seifer snatches it up, the chain clinking against itself as it pools in the cupped palm of his hand. leonhart's eyes are open wide: not in fear, as seifer would like, but in awkward realisation that once again seifer has a hold on him.
pretty, seifer says, and makes a move as if to toss it away. squall's eyes follow and so he keeps it, walking over to his clothes - sure on his bare feet despite the wet of the showers that extends far beyond the tiled area: the showers are useless like so much of garden. seifer pours it carefully into his pocket without looking at squall and then turns to him with a dangerous smile. to keep it safe, he says, a little taunting, and then advances.
squall's hands fly up, resting on seifer's chest, not pushing him away, but a firm barrier all the same.
do you want it back?
yes, squall says, swallowing hard. seifer watches the movement of his adam's apple and smiles again, nodding. he looks at squall, at his wet hair plastered to his head and his nipples pebbled and his cock half hard despite his uncertain expression. seifer touches him, curiously. only touching, a brush of his fingers and no more. squall's breaths quicken, deepen. his cock hardens more at the touch.
kiss me, seifer orders, and after a moment, squall does. their lips press together awkwardly: they are not made for each other by any stretch of the imagination. seifer imagines he can taste squall, though all he can taste is shampoo diluted by water. he will push squall. perhaps he will be generous, but first he must push. he swallows thickly and nods at squall, gives him new orders.
squall takes in a long breath and slides to his knees. this is not the first time squall has done this, though who he's been with before seifer couldn't say and doesn't want to think about. all he wants to think about is the cool water of the shower spattering him and the warm wetness of squall's mouth closing around him, taking him deep without another word said. he stares down at squall and watches the water flow over his back and feels squall's mouth move around his cock.
carefully, he slides his fingers into squall's hair, grabbing a handful he will use for leverage. he doesn't need it, though: squall sucks harder, tugging a curse from him and making his footing feel more precarious.
make me come, he orders, after a moment, and squall glances up. his eyes are not afraid now: guarded, but unafraid.
yes, he says, simply, drawing back. he licks at the head and seifer bites his lip. he opens his mouth and draws seifer in again, and seifer closes his eyes. he'd praise squall if he had the voice, praise him like a dog learning a new trick. his voice would shake and shiver if he did.
it crawls up his back and makes his fist tighten in squall's hair. it makes his cock twitch in squall's mouth and wrenches at his restraint so that he pushes forward, filling squall's mouth completely. it makes his treacherous mouth gasp out squall's name as he has gasped it to an empty room so many times and it makes his orgasm feel like fire: white-hot as he thrusts forward, filling squall's mouth completely, makes him groan as he pulls back.
one hand rests against a tiled wall for support as he smiles at squall. dangerously. as always. squall's cock is hard now. his lips look fuller, reddened, and his smile is unfamiliar and unwelcome.
seifer would reach down and take squall in hand, make him gasp as he gasped. he would kiss him hard and take his breath into his own body when he gasped. ordinarily. but this is not an ordinary day and he just came in that mouth: so no kisses. and no mutual pleasure.
bye, he says, casually, stepping away to grab his towel. everything is damp: himself, the towel, the air. piece of shit showers.
the necklace with its heavy pendant clatters on the floor. seifer is gratified by the way squall grasps at it. a trinket in payment for services rendered, like a whore, and squall reaches for his reward so eagerly.
he turns to go.
final fantasy x, yuna/rikku.
"you must remember that she does not intend to stay."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "clinging", "frost/ice/snow", "exposed", "making the best of it".
yuna looks vulnerable there: cold, maybe, shivering a little in her sleep. rikku feels the cold, anyway, used to the warmth of the desert, a constant blast of heat that makes sickly babies wriggle and gurgle unhappily as they cook slowly. rikku was not a sickly baby, but she feels like one now as she tries to warm herself up. her arms feel skinnier than ever now when fat would be some insulation from the chill.
maybe yuna feels it too because of the al bhed in her blood. either way, rikku creeps closer to her, eventually putting an arm over her slim waist and pressing up against her back. she stirs a little in her sleep; without thinking, rikku hushes her, fingers patting ineffectually at her hair in a soothing manner.
yuna doesn't wake, and with a sense of relief rikku settles down to wrap all around her, giving them both warmth in the cold place.
the end is coming, yes. laying there like that, rikku remembers how they warned her. in the end, she will sacrifice herself. you must remember that she does not intend to stay.
rikku ignores the warning as she ignores all warnings. if yunie is going away, well, she's going away. that doesn't mean she can't share her warmth now.
final fantasy x-2, tidus/yuna.
"i am real, he promises."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "soft/smooth", "little things", "watching".
her skirt flutters in the wind. it tugs at her hair, too, and stings some pink into her cheeks. tidus feels a strange kind of peace in watching: a peace he has never known before. she is softness itself, for now, windblown and airy: feathers on the wind. she is not all softness, but right now, she is.
i know you're watching me, she says, quietly, and he jumps down from his vantage point and puts his arm around her, resting his hand on the curve of her hip.
couldn't resist, he shrugs.
i know the feeling, she whispers, and she reaches out to touch him then, his arm, his shoulder, his face. checking he is real. her hand does not go through him and yet her touches are as cautious as if she believes it will. he is not a person to stand and stare, but for now he stands, and he can't help but stare. there was no peace for him away from this girl. this is where he belongs: guardian to a summoner still when there are no summoners, no aeons, and no guardians.
guardian to a lover.
when she kisses him, her arms slip around his neck and her body presses hard to his. the softness is gone in desperation and he kisses back as eagerly, his hand on the small of her back.
i am real, he promises.
she only smiles.