Full Circle, or, Two and a Half Loves for River Tam (Firefly)
Title: Full Circle, or, Two and a Half Loves for River Tam
Author: carmarthen
Recipient: skripka
Fandom: Firefly (spoilers for the movie)
Pairing: River/Kaylee, River/Inara, River/Zoe
Rating: NC-17 (I think? There's porn)
Word count: 1300ish
Disclaimer: Firefly was created by Joss Whedon and does not belong to me.
Summary: First love is hard for River Tam.
Notes: This request frankly terrified the heck of me, since I've only written Firefly once before and find River rather intimidating. And, um, first time really writing porn (only the vaguest intimations of kink, sorry; I tried but it wouldn't go that way). So I really hope you like it!
Full Circle, or, Two and a Half Loves for River Tam
Dinner tastes like bland molecules, oxygen and carbon chaining and linking into beautiful spirals and sweeping shapes that still taste like nothing. River is more interested in watching Kaylee: Kaylee laughing at some joke of Mal's, smiling at Simon and Inara, blushing when Jayne says something inappropriate. Kaylee is bright and warm and makes River feel slow and calm and sweet and a little bit melty, like ice cream
(she thinks she remembers ice cream, but it's been a long time).
Once Simon tried to make ice cream from protein for her birthday, but it tasted like stale dreams instead.
After dinner, River sits cross-legged on Kaylee's bed. Her world has gone awkward and spinning, like a destabilized gyroscope. Kaylee calls River "sweetheart" and braids her hair. "Sorry it's not fancy like 'Nara makes," Kaylee says. In Kaylee's cracked mirror, River's hair is a slightly lopsided crown of braids.
"I like it," she says.
When River kisses her, Kaylee's lips are soft and taste like strawberry chapstick
(nothing like real strawberries),
which River thinks is all wrong. "Oh, honey," Kaylee says, and squeezes River's hand. "You're sweet, but I like menfolk." Simon is all wrapped around Kaylee's thoughts like ribbons woven into
(some other)
girl's hair.
When River doesn't go to dinner, Inara finds her curled in her bunk. She's only crying a little bit on the outside. "Oh, mei-mei," Inara says, and pets River's hair. Her touch is sure and soothing, like Inara, like green tea poured into Sihnon porcelain
(River has never been to Sihnon: Inara's thoughts are like bright butterflies that she can only catch and hold for a moment before they flutter away).
Inara takes River to her shuttle, settles her among silk cushions and brings her tea and a handkerchief. Inara looks at her and sees, and she says, "Oh, River, it's Kaylee, isn't it?"
River nods. Her mind spins with words and facts, but the right words never come out. "Love is a chemical reaction in the brain," she says, instead, miserably. "An involuntary interaction of pheromones and neurotransmitters."
Inara laughs her gentle Companion laugh and offers River a tea biscuit. "That's not very comforting when you're in love, is it?" She sits down next to River and puts an arm around her shoulders. Inara is soft and pretty
(not as pretty as Kaylee)
and River cries into Inara's expensive silk tunic. Inara strokes her hair and kisses her forehead, and when River turns her face up, her mouth. Inara tastes like lipstick and strong green tea, and her hands are clean and smell like flowers. River closes her eyes and thinks about the smell of engine grease and cheap strawberry chapstick.
"River," Inara says, pulling back. She has worried lines between her eyes, and her thoughts are still. "I'm not sure...."
"Love is only a pheromonal reaction," River says, catching Inara's hand
(soft and smooth)
and kissing her palm. "I am legally of age to consent to sexual activities."
Inara starts to laugh, but almost frowns instead. "If this is what you need--I don't want to hurt you, mei-mei."
"You can't," River says, fiercely
(I am already hurt).
So Inara kisses her again, and it's long and sweet, and when she takes River's hands and kisses her wrists, tongue hot and strong over the pulse points, River sighs and presses up against Inara. The silk of Inara's tunic is slightly textured and heavy, a sleek slide against River's waist where her shirt has ridden up. River reaches up and kisses Inara's collarbone, a little clumsy, and Inara's hands tighten around her wrists.
River feels safe here, graceful and cherished in Inara's grasp. Inara releases River's wrists and touches her stomach, slipping a hand up under her shirt. River's skin feels too tight, tingling and warm, and she's light-headed and dizzy when Inara finally touches her breast.
"Oh," River hears herself say, and she's spinning out of her head, watching them from outside. They are beautiful together, she and Inara: Inara's cultured, practiced elegance and River's own natural grace, limbs and hair tangled together as Inara takes the pins out of River's hair and combs it out with her fingers to fall over River's shoulders.
Inara's silks move away from her hand easily, and for a moment River almost can't tell where silk ends and skin begins. Inara smells like jasmine and green tea, and she moans when River's mouth covers the peak of her breast. It's real, River knows, and feels a warm rush of pride.
"You are so beautiful," Inara says, taking River's face in her hands. "Let me take care of you tonight." She lays River back against the cushions, pushing her skirt up her legs. River giggles, ticklish, and Inara slows, firming her touch. She leans down and kisses River's thigh, and River gasps, warmth spreading between her legs, pulsing in time to her heart
(accelerated heartbeat is a sign of arousal).
And then Inara's mouth covers her, almost unbearably hot, her tongue pressing and licking. Inara's hands are cool and soft on River's thighs, spreading her open and aching. River hears herself making soft, urgent noises, and the warmth grows. She feels tight and trembling, a spring coiled to release as Inara's fingers dip into her, slick and easy. She wants something more, something deeper to make her forget, and she moves her hips aimlessly, straining for what she doesn't quite understand.
Inara has two fingers inside River now, slow stretch on the edge of pain, counterpoint to Inara's mouth sure and clever and Inara's other hand on her hip, palm digging into the hollow of River's hipbone sending pleasant shocks through her.
"Inara," River says, no breath for stringing together verbs and nouns into sentences. Inara replaces her mouth with her thumb and slides up River's body to kiss her. She doesn't taste like tea anymore, or lipstick, but like River, musk and salt-sweat. River kisses her back and shatters, muscles rippling and contracting around Inara's strong fingers, pressing up against Inara's thumb as hard as she can.
Afterwards, Inara pulls River up against her into a tight embrace and kisses the back of her neck. "First love is always the hardest, mei-mei," she says, with the pain of experience in her voice. "It will get better."
The first time Zoe comes into the cockpit after Wash dies, River's sitting there, holding a plastic stegosaurus. She found it stuffed into a corner under the control board, but she hasn't had time to look for the others.
Zoe is stiff and straight as a tree on the outside, but River knows that inside she's lightening-scarred and hurting with slow secret fire eating away at her heartwood. River holds out the dinosaur and Zoe takes it, her eyes going fierce and bright. "It's not for me," she says, after a moment, stoic-faced, and hands it back. "Always thought Wash's dinosaurs were gorram silly."
"Serenity can have it," River says. She sets the stegosaurus carefully next to the comm. "She misses him."
Zoe reminds River of the prickly pear cactus she saw in the botanical gardens back on Osiris
(another life, with green growing things and music).
One of the gardeners had let her taste the magenta fruit hidden by thorns, sweet, rich floral taste bursting on her tongue. No one to see that side of Zoe now, River thinks, heart aching for more than one reason.
River stands up and opens her arms and Zoe comes to her, shoulders shaking, silent dry sobbing. Zoe is a soldier, always. Soon they will go to dinner and eat tasteless protein glop, and River will sit between Mal and Inara as always, Zoe on Mal's other side, Kaylee and Jayne carrying the conversation. In the light, they will pretend this didn't happen.
Inara was wrong, River thinks, holding Zoe and wishing she could fix everything. Second love hurts just as much as the first.
Author: carmarthen
Recipient: skripka
Fandom: Firefly (spoilers for the movie)
Pairing: River/Kaylee, River/Inara, River/Zoe
Rating: NC-17 (I think? There's porn)
Word count: 1300ish
Disclaimer: Firefly was created by Joss Whedon and does not belong to me.
Summary: First love is hard for River Tam.
Notes: This request frankly terrified the heck of me, since I've only written Firefly once before and find River rather intimidating. And, um, first time really writing porn (only the vaguest intimations of kink, sorry; I tried but it wouldn't go that way). So I really hope you like it!
Full Circle, or, Two and a Half Loves for River Tam
Dinner tastes like bland molecules, oxygen and carbon chaining and linking into beautiful spirals and sweeping shapes that still taste like nothing. River is more interested in watching Kaylee: Kaylee laughing at some joke of Mal's, smiling at Simon and Inara, blushing when Jayne says something inappropriate. Kaylee is bright and warm and makes River feel slow and calm and sweet and a little bit melty, like ice cream
(she thinks she remembers ice cream, but it's been a long time).
Once Simon tried to make ice cream from protein for her birthday, but it tasted like stale dreams instead.
After dinner, River sits cross-legged on Kaylee's bed. Her world has gone awkward and spinning, like a destabilized gyroscope. Kaylee calls River "sweetheart" and braids her hair. "Sorry it's not fancy like 'Nara makes," Kaylee says. In Kaylee's cracked mirror, River's hair is a slightly lopsided crown of braids.
"I like it," she says.
When River kisses her, Kaylee's lips are soft and taste like strawberry chapstick
(nothing like real strawberries),
which River thinks is all wrong. "Oh, honey," Kaylee says, and squeezes River's hand. "You're sweet, but I like menfolk." Simon is all wrapped around Kaylee's thoughts like ribbons woven into
(some other)
girl's hair.
When River doesn't go to dinner, Inara finds her curled in her bunk. She's only crying a little bit on the outside. "Oh, mei-mei," Inara says, and pets River's hair. Her touch is sure and soothing, like Inara, like green tea poured into Sihnon porcelain
(River has never been to Sihnon: Inara's thoughts are like bright butterflies that she can only catch and hold for a moment before they flutter away).
Inara takes River to her shuttle, settles her among silk cushions and brings her tea and a handkerchief. Inara looks at her and sees, and she says, "Oh, River, it's Kaylee, isn't it?"
River nods. Her mind spins with words and facts, but the right words never come out. "Love is a chemical reaction in the brain," she says, instead, miserably. "An involuntary interaction of pheromones and neurotransmitters."
Inara laughs her gentle Companion laugh and offers River a tea biscuit. "That's not very comforting when you're in love, is it?" She sits down next to River and puts an arm around her shoulders. Inara is soft and pretty
(not as pretty as Kaylee)
and River cries into Inara's expensive silk tunic. Inara strokes her hair and kisses her forehead, and when River turns her face up, her mouth. Inara tastes like lipstick and strong green tea, and her hands are clean and smell like flowers. River closes her eyes and thinks about the smell of engine grease and cheap strawberry chapstick.
"River," Inara says, pulling back. She has worried lines between her eyes, and her thoughts are still. "I'm not sure...."
"Love is only a pheromonal reaction," River says, catching Inara's hand
(soft and smooth)
and kissing her palm. "I am legally of age to consent to sexual activities."
Inara starts to laugh, but almost frowns instead. "If this is what you need--I don't want to hurt you, mei-mei."
"You can't," River says, fiercely
(I am already hurt).
So Inara kisses her again, and it's long and sweet, and when she takes River's hands and kisses her wrists, tongue hot and strong over the pulse points, River sighs and presses up against Inara. The silk of Inara's tunic is slightly textured and heavy, a sleek slide against River's waist where her shirt has ridden up. River reaches up and kisses Inara's collarbone, a little clumsy, and Inara's hands tighten around her wrists.
River feels safe here, graceful and cherished in Inara's grasp. Inara releases River's wrists and touches her stomach, slipping a hand up under her shirt. River's skin feels too tight, tingling and warm, and she's light-headed and dizzy when Inara finally touches her breast.
"Oh," River hears herself say, and she's spinning out of her head, watching them from outside. They are beautiful together, she and Inara: Inara's cultured, practiced elegance and River's own natural grace, limbs and hair tangled together as Inara takes the pins out of River's hair and combs it out with her fingers to fall over River's shoulders.
Inara's silks move away from her hand easily, and for a moment River almost can't tell where silk ends and skin begins. Inara smells like jasmine and green tea, and she moans when River's mouth covers the peak of her breast. It's real, River knows, and feels a warm rush of pride.
"You are so beautiful," Inara says, taking River's face in her hands. "Let me take care of you tonight." She lays River back against the cushions, pushing her skirt up her legs. River giggles, ticklish, and Inara slows, firming her touch. She leans down and kisses River's thigh, and River gasps, warmth spreading between her legs, pulsing in time to her heart
(accelerated heartbeat is a sign of arousal).
And then Inara's mouth covers her, almost unbearably hot, her tongue pressing and licking. Inara's hands are cool and soft on River's thighs, spreading her open and aching. River hears herself making soft, urgent noises, and the warmth grows. She feels tight and trembling, a spring coiled to release as Inara's fingers dip into her, slick and easy. She wants something more, something deeper to make her forget, and she moves her hips aimlessly, straining for what she doesn't quite understand.
Inara has two fingers inside River now, slow stretch on the edge of pain, counterpoint to Inara's mouth sure and clever and Inara's other hand on her hip, palm digging into the hollow of River's hipbone sending pleasant shocks through her.
"Inara," River says, no breath for stringing together verbs and nouns into sentences. Inara replaces her mouth with her thumb and slides up River's body to kiss her. She doesn't taste like tea anymore, or lipstick, but like River, musk and salt-sweat. River kisses her back and shatters, muscles rippling and contracting around Inara's strong fingers, pressing up against Inara's thumb as hard as she can.
Afterwards, Inara pulls River up against her into a tight embrace and kisses the back of her neck. "First love is always the hardest, mei-mei," she says, with the pain of experience in her voice. "It will get better."
The first time Zoe comes into the cockpit after Wash dies, River's sitting there, holding a plastic stegosaurus. She found it stuffed into a corner under the control board, but she hasn't had time to look for the others.
Zoe is stiff and straight as a tree on the outside, but River knows that inside she's lightening-scarred and hurting with slow secret fire eating away at her heartwood. River holds out the dinosaur and Zoe takes it, her eyes going fierce and bright. "It's not for me," she says, after a moment, stoic-faced, and hands it back. "Always thought Wash's dinosaurs were gorram silly."
"Serenity can have it," River says. She sets the stegosaurus carefully next to the comm. "She misses him."
Zoe reminds River of the prickly pear cactus she saw in the botanical gardens back on Osiris
(another life, with green growing things and music).
One of the gardeners had let her taste the magenta fruit hidden by thorns, sweet, rich floral taste bursting on her tongue. No one to see that side of Zoe now, River thinks, heart aching for more than one reason.
River stands up and opens her arms and Zoe comes to her, shoulders shaking, silent dry sobbing. Zoe is a soldier, always. Soon they will go to dinner and eat tasteless protein glop, and River will sit between Mal and Inara as always, Zoe on Mal's other side, Kaylee and Jayne carrying the conversation. In the light, they will pretend this didn't happen.
Inara was wrong, River thinks, holding Zoe and wishing she could fix everything. Second love hurts just as much as the first.