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fiachairecht) wrote2020-03-29 10:57 pm
fiachairecht) wrote2020-03-29 10:57 pm
Entry tags:
nice things
Sometimes your faves deserve nice things. Sometimes those nice things are luxurious hatesex and grim tenderness and being eaten by a forest. This flash exchange had a theme and I think I missed the spirit of it but I made people happy and got a lovely Zone Blanche fic (Camille/Laurene and spoilery) in return so!! Have some fics in which various girls get nice things.
Title: need me now
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Characters/Ships: Spencer/Mona
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Were they underage in season 3 I feel like maybe yeah, also I feel like the ship is its own consent warning
Summary: Spencer, becoming A.
"This -" Spencer's breath catches as Mona's teeth close against the skin of her inner thigh - "Is your - this is your fucking hideout?"
"Uh-huh," Mona says, smug grin curving against the bitemark. "You like?"
Spencer curls her fingers into the bedsheets, the silk slippery against her sweaty palms. It's still better than grabbing Mona's hair - she can't bear the thought of encouraging her, although the thought of getting all that perfect hair in her fist and pulling sends a thrill through her whole body.
"Oh, yeah, you like," Mona murmurs, her fingers dragging rough through the wetness between Spencer's legs, and - fuck, she hates how good Mona is at this. How much she's looking forward to flipping them over and seeing how Mona tastes, blood or gunpowder or expensive perfume, and her mouth's already watering at the thought. "You haven't even seen the clothes yet. Or the wine."
"Wonder why." Spencer shifts, feels the skirt Mona had given her bunched up around her waist. She's hyperaware of every thread of fabric against her bare skin, every brush of Mona's hair over her thighs. "This feels -" Spencer shuts her eyes, tries to breathe more deeply, and it doesn't help her focus at all. "This feels like a bribe."
Mona's fingers slide back over her, dip inside, and Spencer's legs snap shut. "Don't be crass while I'm fucking you," she says. "Honestly, Spence, it's the least you deserve."
I thought I deserved a normal life, Spencer might have said, except - she needs this. Needs Mona to trust her, to believe she wants to be A., even, in the end, needs Mona to pay for everything she's done -
But she needs this, too: Mona's mouth between her legs, her own fingers pinching Mona's nipples into tight hard peaks.
And she's never felt more powerful.
Title: ça résonne en souvenir
Fandom: Zone Blanche
Characters/Ships: Cora/Marion
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mumbles vaguely about spoilery Marion things from season 1
Summary: "I want to - to love you for forever. Sometimes I feel like I already have."
"Follow me."
Marion turns as she speaks, eyes glimmering in the moonlight and shadows dappling across her washed out hair. Cora takes her hand without a second thought, fingers curling tight around Marion's warm skin, and she's never felt so lucky in her life.
She never could say no to Marion.
The ground crunches beneath her feet, fallen twigs and dead leaves mixing with the living growth of summer's last breaths. Above, the half-adorned tree branches murmur in the nonexistent wind; ahead, Marion is humming pieces of a chanson Cora only thinks she recognises.
She thinks about asking where they're going, but she doesn't want to ruin the surprise. Marion's always been easy to trust, and trust is even easier in the middle of the forest when Marion and her bow are all she has. Instead, she asks, "How much further?"
Marion stops humming and laughs, brighter than the moon. "Not far," she says. "Promise."
A moment later the path opens out in front of them, as if Marion's words had called the space into being. Maybe they had - Marion could do anything.
It's familiar - or maybe it almost is. A space like any other they and their friends have spent their nights in, drinks around the fires and music never quite loud enough to drown out the birdsong. Flowers spill out towards a rocky decline, smooth stones ring an ashen fire pit. There's a tent, or the semblance of one: canvas rippling over branches, blankets spread out in wait.
Marion's place. Their place.
The faint sound of rushing water reaches Cora's ears, and she blinks. Tries to recall their steps, the path - had they come by the river? "Where are we?" She asks, and the words are heavy in her mouth. There's something else she should be asking, something she doesn't want the answer to.
Something she already knows the answer to, as she wraps her arms around Marion's waist, rests her cheek on the flat plane of her shoulder blade.
"It doesn't matter," Marion says. "We're here."
Cora shifts her weight from foot to foot, feels Marion sway with her, like they used to dance. "I loved you," she says. Nudges Marion's hair aside with her nose and kisses the words into warm skin. "Love you. Will love you." Has she said it before? She's dreamed it, thought it - sometimes it's the same; it's important, now, though, for reasons she can't even put into words.
Marion leans back into her embrace, twists her head around until they're nearly kissing. "I knew," she says against Cora's lips. "Know. You made it so obvious, every day, before and - after."
And, there: the thing Cora hadn't wanted to say. "Does that mean that you're not - that this isn't -"
Real, she wants to say, or, maybe, forever. But Marion turns fully, loops her arms around Cora's neck and pulls her down until their mouths are crushed together - until the space between them has melted away like starlight behind a cloud. Marion kisses sharp and insistent, her tongue tracing the edges of Cora's teeth as if daring her to bite down.
If she did, Marion would bleed, or she wouldn't. Cora isn't sure which is worse. But kissing Marion is familiar - and seeing her, the shadows of her eyelashes against the close pale grey of her skin, it's familiar too.
"It's me," Marion says when she pulls back, and it's not an answer but Cora clings on to it with both hands. "For as long as you remember. As long as you want."
Cora blinks. Her cheeks are wet with tears, hers or Marion's, she doesn't know. "I want forever." Wanted forever. Villefranche wants forever. Her head is spinning in the best way, already thinking of the future - visiting Marion, feeling her breathe, alive, alive.
"Then we have forever," Marion says, and the promise in her voice, the warmth of her hands makes Cora shiver. "But we can start with a fire."
The firepit is still set, and Cora passes the lone match she can find in her pocket to Marion. She leaves their bows and quivers at the side of the tent, listens to the soft crackling of kindling struck true. When she turns, the fire has brought some colour back to the world - to Marion's cheeks and hair.
Her eyes are still a deep, deep black.
"Sit with me." Marion pats the ground at her side, flowers blooming under her touch. They're pink in the firelight, pink like Marion's lips. "Or I have - I have beer, somewhere, I think."
Other nights, she would have agreed without a second thought; tonight, all she wants is Marion. "I'm good," she says. "You."
"Good," Marion says. "Better if you're here." She laughs and it's infectious, joy bubbling up in Cora's throat unfamiliar and sweet. It's only ever been like this with Marion.
She hurries the few short steps to Marion's side, sinking down in her lap with her back to the fire and resting her head on Marion's shoulder. They fit together now better than they ever have.
Cora lets her breathing slow as Marion feathers kisses over the top of her head. Marion is solid beneath her, around her - like she'd never left. There's even a pulse, faint and slow, beating under her lips. "Did you mean it," she says, "When you said as long as I want?"
She doesn't want to know. She has to know.
Marion is quiet above her, hardly breathing. "I want forever too," she says. "I want to - to love you for forever. Sometimes I feel like I already have."
Cora hugs her closer. Please, she wants to say, but she doesn't know how that sentence ends. How anything ends. She tilts her head up, straining in the nonexistent space between them, willing Marion to understand, and when their lips meet again it feels like it might be the only answer she ever needs, no matter what she asks.
Marion kisses softer now, slower, like she's beginning to believe they really do have the time. It's new for her too, Cora thinks - being back, feeling safe. "I don't think I can leave," she says. She reaches back, unwinds Cora's arms from around her neck so she can tangle their fingers together. "But I think, yes, I'm here forever. I don't mind. It's what we always talked about, isn't it? Being together."
"It was - is. I never imagined you would have to pay so much for it." She bring their joined hands to her mouth, kisses Marion's knuckles and then lets go, cradles Marion's hand in both of hers so she can kiss each calloused fingertip.
"Neither did I," Marion says. She sighs - Cora can feel the rise and fall of her chest, even though the breeze takes her breath. "But we have it now. And it's beautiful."
When Cora looks up she's smiling, almost bright enough to light up her eyes.
It's enough.
Title: need me now
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Characters/Ships: Spencer/Mona
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Were they underage in season 3 I feel like maybe yeah, also I feel like the ship is its own consent warning
Summary: Spencer, becoming A.
"This -" Spencer's breath catches as Mona's teeth close against the skin of her inner thigh - "Is your - this is your fucking hideout?"
"Uh-huh," Mona says, smug grin curving against the bitemark. "You like?"
Spencer curls her fingers into the bedsheets, the silk slippery against her sweaty palms. It's still better than grabbing Mona's hair - she can't bear the thought of encouraging her, although the thought of getting all that perfect hair in her fist and pulling sends a thrill through her whole body.
"Oh, yeah, you like," Mona murmurs, her fingers dragging rough through the wetness between Spencer's legs, and - fuck, she hates how good Mona is at this. How much she's looking forward to flipping them over and seeing how Mona tastes, blood or gunpowder or expensive perfume, and her mouth's already watering at the thought. "You haven't even seen the clothes yet. Or the wine."
"Wonder why." Spencer shifts, feels the skirt Mona had given her bunched up around her waist. She's hyperaware of every thread of fabric against her bare skin, every brush of Mona's hair over her thighs. "This feels -" Spencer shuts her eyes, tries to breathe more deeply, and it doesn't help her focus at all. "This feels like a bribe."
Mona's fingers slide back over her, dip inside, and Spencer's legs snap shut. "Don't be crass while I'm fucking you," she says. "Honestly, Spence, it's the least you deserve."
I thought I deserved a normal life, Spencer might have said, except - she needs this. Needs Mona to trust her, to believe she wants to be A., even, in the end, needs Mona to pay for everything she's done -
But she needs this, too: Mona's mouth between her legs, her own fingers pinching Mona's nipples into tight hard peaks.
And she's never felt more powerful.
Title: ça résonne en souvenir
Fandom: Zone Blanche
Characters/Ships: Cora/Marion
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mumbles vaguely about spoilery Marion things from season 1
Summary: "I want to - to love you for forever. Sometimes I feel like I already have."
"Follow me."
Marion turns as she speaks, eyes glimmering in the moonlight and shadows dappling across her washed out hair. Cora takes her hand without a second thought, fingers curling tight around Marion's warm skin, and she's never felt so lucky in her life.
She never could say no to Marion.
The ground crunches beneath her feet, fallen twigs and dead leaves mixing with the living growth of summer's last breaths. Above, the half-adorned tree branches murmur in the nonexistent wind; ahead, Marion is humming pieces of a chanson Cora only thinks she recognises.
She thinks about asking where they're going, but she doesn't want to ruin the surprise. Marion's always been easy to trust, and trust is even easier in the middle of the forest when Marion and her bow are all she has. Instead, she asks, "How much further?"
Marion stops humming and laughs, brighter than the moon. "Not far," she says. "Promise."
A moment later the path opens out in front of them, as if Marion's words had called the space into being. Maybe they had - Marion could do anything.
It's familiar - or maybe it almost is. A space like any other they and their friends have spent their nights in, drinks around the fires and music never quite loud enough to drown out the birdsong. Flowers spill out towards a rocky decline, smooth stones ring an ashen fire pit. There's a tent, or the semblance of one: canvas rippling over branches, blankets spread out in wait.
Marion's place. Their place.
The faint sound of rushing water reaches Cora's ears, and she blinks. Tries to recall their steps, the path - had they come by the river? "Where are we?" She asks, and the words are heavy in her mouth. There's something else she should be asking, something she doesn't want the answer to.
Something she already knows the answer to, as she wraps her arms around Marion's waist, rests her cheek on the flat plane of her shoulder blade.
"It doesn't matter," Marion says. "We're here."
Cora shifts her weight from foot to foot, feels Marion sway with her, like they used to dance. "I loved you," she says. Nudges Marion's hair aside with her nose and kisses the words into warm skin. "Love you. Will love you." Has she said it before? She's dreamed it, thought it - sometimes it's the same; it's important, now, though, for reasons she can't even put into words.
Marion leans back into her embrace, twists her head around until they're nearly kissing. "I knew," she says against Cora's lips. "Know. You made it so obvious, every day, before and - after."
And, there: the thing Cora hadn't wanted to say. "Does that mean that you're not - that this isn't -"
Real, she wants to say, or, maybe, forever. But Marion turns fully, loops her arms around Cora's neck and pulls her down until their mouths are crushed together - until the space between them has melted away like starlight behind a cloud. Marion kisses sharp and insistent, her tongue tracing the edges of Cora's teeth as if daring her to bite down.
If she did, Marion would bleed, or she wouldn't. Cora isn't sure which is worse. But kissing Marion is familiar - and seeing her, the shadows of her eyelashes against the close pale grey of her skin, it's familiar too.
"It's me," Marion says when she pulls back, and it's not an answer but Cora clings on to it with both hands. "For as long as you remember. As long as you want."
Cora blinks. Her cheeks are wet with tears, hers or Marion's, she doesn't know. "I want forever." Wanted forever. Villefranche wants forever. Her head is spinning in the best way, already thinking of the future - visiting Marion, feeling her breathe, alive, alive.
"Then we have forever," Marion says, and the promise in her voice, the warmth of her hands makes Cora shiver. "But we can start with a fire."
The firepit is still set, and Cora passes the lone match she can find in her pocket to Marion. She leaves their bows and quivers at the side of the tent, listens to the soft crackling of kindling struck true. When she turns, the fire has brought some colour back to the world - to Marion's cheeks and hair.
Her eyes are still a deep, deep black.
"Sit with me." Marion pats the ground at her side, flowers blooming under her touch. They're pink in the firelight, pink like Marion's lips. "Or I have - I have beer, somewhere, I think."
Other nights, she would have agreed without a second thought; tonight, all she wants is Marion. "I'm good," she says. "You."
"Good," Marion says. "Better if you're here." She laughs and it's infectious, joy bubbling up in Cora's throat unfamiliar and sweet. It's only ever been like this with Marion.
She hurries the few short steps to Marion's side, sinking down in her lap with her back to the fire and resting her head on Marion's shoulder. They fit together now better than they ever have.
Cora lets her breathing slow as Marion feathers kisses over the top of her head. Marion is solid beneath her, around her - like she'd never left. There's even a pulse, faint and slow, beating under her lips. "Did you mean it," she says, "When you said as long as I want?"
She doesn't want to know. She has to know.
Marion is quiet above her, hardly breathing. "I want forever too," she says. "I want to - to love you for forever. Sometimes I feel like I already have."
Cora hugs her closer. Please, she wants to say, but she doesn't know how that sentence ends. How anything ends. She tilts her head up, straining in the nonexistent space between them, willing Marion to understand, and when their lips meet again it feels like it might be the only answer she ever needs, no matter what she asks.
Marion kisses softer now, slower, like she's beginning to believe they really do have the time. It's new for her too, Cora thinks - being back, feeling safe. "I don't think I can leave," she says. She reaches back, unwinds Cora's arms from around her neck so she can tangle their fingers together. "But I think, yes, I'm here forever. I don't mind. It's what we always talked about, isn't it? Being together."
"It was - is. I never imagined you would have to pay so much for it." She bring their joined hands to her mouth, kisses Marion's knuckles and then lets go, cradles Marion's hand in both of hers so she can kiss each calloused fingertip.
"Neither did I," Marion says. She sighs - Cora can feel the rise and fall of her chest, even though the breeze takes her breath. "But we have it now. And it's beautiful."
When Cora looks up she's smiling, almost bright enough to light up her eyes.
It's enough.