Ficlet: "The Ceremony of Innocence," PLL, Spencer/Toby, R.
Title: "The Ceremony of Innocence"
Author: monimala
Fandom: PLL
Rating/Classification: R, Spencer/Toby, sexual situations, ficlet
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit from their use.
Summary: 375 words. Written for Porn Battle XII, for the prompt "trust."
Sometimes Spencer feels like she's the duct tape holding the world together. Fraying at the edges, scratches in the silver dye, but determined to stick no matter what. She has to. She's Spencer Hastings: the scary, driven one who gets things done. If she doesn't keep it together, who can expect Hanna or Aria or Em to? Like the poem goes... things fall apart; the center cannot hold.
"You're thinking again. Can you turn it down?" Toby's smile is warm and sleepy against her neck. His arm, draped loosely across her waist, tightens and his fingertips stroke her bare belly… like he's soothing the savage, thinky beast. All it really does is start a ticklish flutter. Giggles bubble up from the depths of her neuroses, and she twists around to face him. His eyes are bright with humor and understanding. Sometimes, she thinks she can see the whole universe in that shade of blue.
He trails his touch south, between her thighs, and her giggles turn into gasps. She opens up for him-- for him and nobody else-- and it's her turn to whisper into his skin. She recites more Yeats to the beat of his pulse, teeth scoring the tender hollow beneath his jaw line. He makes a soft sound of approval, chases it with a gentle laugh. "You like it when I think," she murmurs. "You like me when I'm loud. I know you do."
He traces her lips with fingertips that taste like her. Like sex. Like trust. His steady gaze gives her permission to close her hand around his cock and stroke. She never touches him without asking, and he always gives without having to be told to. "You fill up my quiet spaces," he tells her in that earnest, easy way of his. "And I love you for it."
Soon enough, he fills her quietest space. Her head falls back against the pillow, and her mind clears of everything except how he feels moving inside her, and how his kiss, his devotion, is the most honest thing she knows.
If she's the duct tape, Toby's the glue. Soft and malleable... until he hardens into an immovable force.
When things fall apart, Spencer knows that Toby will piece her back together.
--end--
August 4, 2011
Author: monimala
Fandom: PLL
Rating/Classification: R, Spencer/Toby, sexual situations, ficlet
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit from their use.
Summary: 375 words. Written for Porn Battle XII, for the prompt "trust."
Sometimes Spencer feels like she's the duct tape holding the world together. Fraying at the edges, scratches in the silver dye, but determined to stick no matter what. She has to. She's Spencer Hastings: the scary, driven one who gets things done. If she doesn't keep it together, who can expect Hanna or Aria or Em to? Like the poem goes... things fall apart; the center cannot hold.
"You're thinking again. Can you turn it down?" Toby's smile is warm and sleepy against her neck. His arm, draped loosely across her waist, tightens and his fingertips stroke her bare belly… like he's soothing the savage, thinky beast. All it really does is start a ticklish flutter. Giggles bubble up from the depths of her neuroses, and she twists around to face him. His eyes are bright with humor and understanding. Sometimes, she thinks she can see the whole universe in that shade of blue.
He trails his touch south, between her thighs, and her giggles turn into gasps. She opens up for him-- for him and nobody else-- and it's her turn to whisper into his skin. She recites more Yeats to the beat of his pulse, teeth scoring the tender hollow beneath his jaw line. He makes a soft sound of approval, chases it with a gentle laugh. "You like it when I think," she murmurs. "You like me when I'm loud. I know you do."
He traces her lips with fingertips that taste like her. Like sex. Like trust. His steady gaze gives her permission to close her hand around his cock and stroke. She never touches him without asking, and he always gives without having to be told to. "You fill up my quiet spaces," he tells her in that earnest, easy way of his. "And I love you for it."
Soon enough, he fills her quietest space. Her head falls back against the pillow, and her mind clears of everything except how he feels moving inside her, and how his kiss, his devotion, is the most honest thing she knows.
If she's the duct tape, Toby's the glue. Soft and malleable... until he hardens into an immovable force.
When things fall apart, Spencer knows that Toby will piece her back together.
--end--
August 4, 2011