Wills [Final Fantasy X, Seymour/Yuna, R]
Title: Wills
Author: ladycrysiana
Rating: R
Prompt: Feb 5: Final Fantasy X, Seymour/Yuna: first time - "Let me have my wedding night."
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Spoilers for details about Seymour and various events in FFX
Summary: Seymour manages to hold on to Yuna for just a bit longer and gets to enjoy his wedding night. (Sorry my summaries are terrible.)
She's dressed in the nightclothes he picked for her when she enters the bedroom, a more traditional red, suitable for a Guado bride. His father could not fault him for that. The top clings to her, but the nightdress sweeps all the way to the floor with a wide skirt. The color makes her look pale, but she's always pale, like a graceful doll. Her expression is calm, but her hands are folded in front of her and one of them is clutching the other, her fingers curling and uncurling. Seymour smiles at her, and Yuna lets out a huff of air that isn't too delicate to be called a snort.
"Let's get this over with," she says.
He doesn't respond as he steps over to her, but he notes how her hands fall to her sides and clench into fists. Every line of her body is set. She isn't quite leaning against him, though, and he reaches out to stroke her cheek, running a thumb over her bottom lip. "I would hope that you and I could enjoy each other tonight."
She remains stiff as he bends to kiss her, sliding his hands down to her shoulders. She smells like flowers and wind and light, and he strokes a hand down over her breasts to see if she will gasp. Yuna makes a choked noise, jerking back, but he tightens his grip on her shoulder, keeping her in place. He breaks the kiss to look down at her and kneads her breast. "Well?"
Bright spots of color flame on her cheeks, but the bright fury in her eyes make it hard to know if it is embarrassment, anger, or plain lust. "Just..." She shakes her head. "Just do it."
He hums to himself and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. "I don't think you quite understood our arrangement. If you don't make an effort, I can't in good conscience feel obligated to continue protecting your friends."
"You wanted your wedding night," Yuna snaps, and the color in her cheeks is definitely fury. "You never said that I had to pretend to enjoy it."
"Call it a codicil, if you must," Seymour replies. He rubs a hand over the lower part of her back in slow, soothing circles. He inclines his head towards hers and lets out a sigh. "I'd want you to enjoy this, particularly since - I hope - you've never had the opportunity before."
Her eyes drop and she ducks her head. Her cheeks are still red, but he fancies at least a bit of it is embarrassment, now. "I...haven't." She seems to shake herself mentally as she brings her head back up, and her gaze meets his. "If you're so determined, make me enjoy it."
He smiles faintly and gathers her up in his arms, carrying her over to lay her out on the bed. She stays determinedly limp, staring up at the ceiling as he stretches out over her. For a moment, he simply looks down at her, taking the whole picture in, her splayed underneath him unresisting. He bends down to taste the skin of her neck, to kiss down to her collarbone slowly.
"Turn over," he says, and he's gratified by her look of surprise before she does. He smoothes his hands over her back, rubbing up and down, feeling the muscle flex under his hands. She's trying to stay tense, but eventually her body betrays her, muscles going lax under his treatment.
Her breathing quickens again as he rolls her to her front again, but he leans in before she can tense fully to nuzzle at her breasts, and this time she does gasp. He sucks delicately at the points of her nipples through the fabric of her nightdress, making a pleased sound as they harden. Her hands are clenching the bedspread now, and when he looks up, she is watching him with wide eyes.
Her lips are parted, just a bit, and he leans up to taste them, to dip his tongue inside her mouth and feel her moan against him. One hand skims her nightdress up her hips, and he slides a finger up the inside of her thigh to feel her legs tremble. He strokes her delicate folds, dragging another moan out of her, then pulls away just far enough to watch her face as he pushes a finger inside her.
Yuna breathes out hard, whimpering softly in what sounds more like pain than anything, and he has been given a challenge that he intends to win, so he kneels between her spread legs, pulling his hand free and replacing it with his mouth. Her hips jerk, but he presses into it, lapping at her, tasting her here as well, and the noises that she makes now are sweet helpless murmurs, breathy, disconnected words that trail off into a sharp cry, as her whole body tenses, then goes fully lax.
He sits up, licking his lips and looking down at her, the slick wetness between her legs and the dazed, soft look in her eyes. He loosens his own robes as he stretches up to kiss her; he has more than fulfilled his own obligation to her, and he needs to do this, to sink into her. She comes back to herself with a start as he thrusts inside of her, going stiff all over again, but his world has contracted to one point of wet and tight and heat.
He's murmuring things to her, unwise things, but things that are true, that he'll save the world from suffering and that he will save her from suffering, that no one will ever have to mourn again and that she is beautiful and makes him realize that despite the petty pains of everyday, people are worth saving from their anguish. Her expression tightens as he speaks and she doesn't understand (she'll never understand) but she wraps her arms around his neck, and it reminds him of his mother's gentleness, and the world whites out as he comes.
He returns to full consciousness as if waking. He's alone in the bed, but no, she hasn't left. She's there, standing nearby. She hasn't fled, and while part of him is surprised, it isn't too surprising that his skill convinced her to stay. Her eyes are huge and dark, and he could lose himself in them, especially in such a daze as he is now.
She is beautiful, he thinks, and she is everything, and everything is fading into sparkling mist, and he realizes, too late, that he has underestimated her determination again. "Such determination," he murmurs. "Will you use it to rid the world of Sin?"
Her mouth tightens into a thin line. "I don't owe you an answer. Or...anything."
"Goodnight, then, Yuna," he sighs, and the world blurs into light.
Author: ladycrysiana
Rating: R
Prompt: Feb 5: Final Fantasy X, Seymour/Yuna: first time - "Let me have my wedding night."
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Spoilers for details about Seymour and various events in FFX
Summary: Seymour manages to hold on to Yuna for just a bit longer and gets to enjoy his wedding night. (Sorry my summaries are terrible.)
She's dressed in the nightclothes he picked for her when she enters the bedroom, a more traditional red, suitable for a Guado bride. His father could not fault him for that. The top clings to her, but the nightdress sweeps all the way to the floor with a wide skirt. The color makes her look pale, but she's always pale, like a graceful doll. Her expression is calm, but her hands are folded in front of her and one of them is clutching the other, her fingers curling and uncurling. Seymour smiles at her, and Yuna lets out a huff of air that isn't too delicate to be called a snort.
"Let's get this over with," she says.
He doesn't respond as he steps over to her, but he notes how her hands fall to her sides and clench into fists. Every line of her body is set. She isn't quite leaning against him, though, and he reaches out to stroke her cheek, running a thumb over her bottom lip. "I would hope that you and I could enjoy each other tonight."
She remains stiff as he bends to kiss her, sliding his hands down to her shoulders. She smells like flowers and wind and light, and he strokes a hand down over her breasts to see if she will gasp. Yuna makes a choked noise, jerking back, but he tightens his grip on her shoulder, keeping her in place. He breaks the kiss to look down at her and kneads her breast. "Well?"
Bright spots of color flame on her cheeks, but the bright fury in her eyes make it hard to know if it is embarrassment, anger, or plain lust. "Just..." She shakes her head. "Just do it."
He hums to himself and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. "I don't think you quite understood our arrangement. If you don't make an effort, I can't in good conscience feel obligated to continue protecting your friends."
"You wanted your wedding night," Yuna snaps, and the color in her cheeks is definitely fury. "You never said that I had to pretend to enjoy it."
"Call it a codicil, if you must," Seymour replies. He rubs a hand over the lower part of her back in slow, soothing circles. He inclines his head towards hers and lets out a sigh. "I'd want you to enjoy this, particularly since - I hope - you've never had the opportunity before."
Her eyes drop and she ducks her head. Her cheeks are still red, but he fancies at least a bit of it is embarrassment, now. "I...haven't." She seems to shake herself mentally as she brings her head back up, and her gaze meets his. "If you're so determined, make me enjoy it."
He smiles faintly and gathers her up in his arms, carrying her over to lay her out on the bed. She stays determinedly limp, staring up at the ceiling as he stretches out over her. For a moment, he simply looks down at her, taking the whole picture in, her splayed underneath him unresisting. He bends down to taste the skin of her neck, to kiss down to her collarbone slowly.
"Turn over," he says, and he's gratified by her look of surprise before she does. He smoothes his hands over her back, rubbing up and down, feeling the muscle flex under his hands. She's trying to stay tense, but eventually her body betrays her, muscles going lax under his treatment.
Her breathing quickens again as he rolls her to her front again, but he leans in before she can tense fully to nuzzle at her breasts, and this time she does gasp. He sucks delicately at the points of her nipples through the fabric of her nightdress, making a pleased sound as they harden. Her hands are clenching the bedspread now, and when he looks up, she is watching him with wide eyes.
Her lips are parted, just a bit, and he leans up to taste them, to dip his tongue inside her mouth and feel her moan against him. One hand skims her nightdress up her hips, and he slides a finger up the inside of her thigh to feel her legs tremble. He strokes her delicate folds, dragging another moan out of her, then pulls away just far enough to watch her face as he pushes a finger inside her.
Yuna breathes out hard, whimpering softly in what sounds more like pain than anything, and he has been given a challenge that he intends to win, so he kneels between her spread legs, pulling his hand free and replacing it with his mouth. Her hips jerk, but he presses into it, lapping at her, tasting her here as well, and the noises that she makes now are sweet helpless murmurs, breathy, disconnected words that trail off into a sharp cry, as her whole body tenses, then goes fully lax.
He sits up, licking his lips and looking down at her, the slick wetness between her legs and the dazed, soft look in her eyes. He loosens his own robes as he stretches up to kiss her; he has more than fulfilled his own obligation to her, and he needs to do this, to sink into her. She comes back to herself with a start as he thrusts inside of her, going stiff all over again, but his world has contracted to one point of wet and tight and heat.
He's murmuring things to her, unwise things, but things that are true, that he'll save the world from suffering and that he will save her from suffering, that no one will ever have to mourn again and that she is beautiful and makes him realize that despite the petty pains of everyday, people are worth saving from their anguish. Her expression tightens as he speaks and she doesn't understand (she'll never understand) but she wraps her arms around his neck, and it reminds him of his mother's gentleness, and the world whites out as he comes.
He returns to full consciousness as if waking. He's alone in the bed, but no, she hasn't left. She's there, standing nearby. She hasn't fled, and while part of him is surprised, it isn't too surprising that his skill convinced her to stay. Her eyes are huge and dark, and he could lose himself in them, especially in such a daze as he is now.
She is beautiful, he thinks, and she is everything, and everything is fading into sparkling mist, and he realizes, too late, that he has underestimated her determination again. "Such determination," he murmurs. "Will you use it to rid the world of Sin?"
Her mouth tightens into a thin line. "I don't owe you an answer. Or...anything."
"Goodnight, then, Yuna," he sighs, and the world blurs into light.