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fiachairecht) wrote2021-05-23 09:31 pm
fiachairecht) wrote2021-05-23 09:31 pm
Entry tags:
fics x2
2021 is the year I mostly write short pieces on purpose and am actually pleased with it, huh. Two fics for elasticella's Sapphic Spring fest.
Title: the surrender to the power
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Ships: Blair/Vanessa
Rating/Warnings: M, knifeplay, hatesex
Summary: 'Knifeplay, hatesex' is the summary
Notes: For the prompt 'Any/Blair, cut throat'
She doesn't bare her neck for anyone - never has, never will, but now, spread out on her bed with her back arched, Vanessa's knee firm between her thighs and her own knife at her throat, Blair thinks she might revisit that. The alternative, that Vanessa's made her do this, is worse.
Still: at least it's Vanessa, she thinks, and the thought trips over the blade on its way from her heart to her mouth, and then she thinks: it better stay there.
She hates everything about this - the smirk glimmering in Vanessa's eyes, the blood pooling at the back of her throat, the way V. bends down so her curls brush against Blair's bare breasts. Everything but the way it makes her feel, which is why this is happening still. Again.
Vanessa leans back, and Blair struggles to get her breathing under control as they both watch the river of crimson make its way down to her collarbone.
"Art," Vanessa says, prouder than she has any right to be.
"Before I even met you," Blair agrees. Her lips are dry, throat sore.
Vanessa rolls her hips against Blair's, not really a question, and when she says, "Prettier with me, though," it's not a question either.
"Fuck you," Blair says.
They do.
They're both bloody by the end.
(Tomorrow, Serena will flip her hair, say, nice scarf, B., and it'll be too nice to be true, and Blair, silk raw against scars only she can see, won't say anything at all.)
Title: a drop into the ocean
Fandom: Shetland
Characters/Ships: Phyllis/Rhona
Rating/Warnings: E, angst, kinda-sorta breakup fic
Summary: Her relationship with Phyllis changes, but the sea remains.
Notes: For the prompt 'Any/Any, ocean'
The first time Phyllis comes to Shetland, Rhona takes her swimming. It's gone Midsummer and probably too cold for it, but stepping into the Atlantic from the strand by her house has come to feel more like home than stepping onto the tarmac at Sumburgh, and she wants - needs - to share it.
Swimming is the idea, at least. When Rhona surfaces, blinking away the sweet sting of salt, Phyllis' bare feet are her single concession to the sand. In jeans and Rhona's jumper she's less formal than most days in Glasgow see her, but she still looks -
Out of place. Rhona shakes her head to clear the thought. "Come on," she says instead. "Before the waves make the choice for you."
Phyllis smiles, but: "It's freezing."
Rhona quirks an eyebrow in invitation. "Warm me up, then." It's harder to make the words light than it should be, but Phyllis complies. Strips down to the suit Rhona had convinced her to pack and wades out until they're both past the breaking waves, keeping each other afloat.
(Later, still-damp hair spread over her pillows with her blood rushing in her ears like the surf, Phyllis' tongue hot on her clit and three fingers buried deep inside her, she feels just as safe. Phyllis licks over her cunt with a wild sort of dedication and Rhona comes, shaking, slick all over Phyllis' mouth)
(Later still, when Phyllis is sentenced, Rhona sinks beneath the waves with only the heat of her tears for warmth.)
elasticella's Sapphic Spring fest.Title: the surrender to the power
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Ships: Blair/Vanessa
Rating/Warnings: M, knifeplay, hatesex
Summary: 'Knifeplay, hatesex' is the summary
Notes: For the prompt 'Any/Blair, cut throat'
She doesn't bare her neck for anyone - never has, never will, but now, spread out on her bed with her back arched, Vanessa's knee firm between her thighs and her own knife at her throat, Blair thinks she might revisit that. The alternative, that Vanessa's made her do this, is worse.
Still: at least it's Vanessa, she thinks, and the thought trips over the blade on its way from her heart to her mouth, and then she thinks: it better stay there.
She hates everything about this - the smirk glimmering in Vanessa's eyes, the blood pooling at the back of her throat, the way V. bends down so her curls brush against Blair's bare breasts. Everything but the way it makes her feel, which is why this is happening still. Again.
Vanessa leans back, and Blair struggles to get her breathing under control as they both watch the river of crimson make its way down to her collarbone.
"Art," Vanessa says, prouder than she has any right to be.
"Before I even met you," Blair agrees. Her lips are dry, throat sore.
Vanessa rolls her hips against Blair's, not really a question, and when she says, "Prettier with me, though," it's not a question either.
"Fuck you," Blair says.
They do.
They're both bloody by the end.
(Tomorrow, Serena will flip her hair, say, nice scarf, B., and it'll be too nice to be true, and Blair, silk raw against scars only she can see, won't say anything at all.)
Title: a drop into the ocean
Fandom: Shetland
Characters/Ships: Phyllis/Rhona
Rating/Warnings: E, angst, kinda-sorta breakup fic
Summary: Her relationship with Phyllis changes, but the sea remains.
Notes: For the prompt 'Any/Any, ocean'
The first time Phyllis comes to Shetland, Rhona takes her swimming. It's gone Midsummer and probably too cold for it, but stepping into the Atlantic from the strand by her house has come to feel more like home than stepping onto the tarmac at Sumburgh, and she wants - needs - to share it.
Swimming is the idea, at least. When Rhona surfaces, blinking away the sweet sting of salt, Phyllis' bare feet are her single concession to the sand. In jeans and Rhona's jumper she's less formal than most days in Glasgow see her, but she still looks -
Out of place. Rhona shakes her head to clear the thought. "Come on," she says instead. "Before the waves make the choice for you."
Phyllis smiles, but: "It's freezing."
Rhona quirks an eyebrow in invitation. "Warm me up, then." It's harder to make the words light than it should be, but Phyllis complies. Strips down to the suit Rhona had convinced her to pack and wades out until they're both past the breaking waves, keeping each other afloat.
(Later, still-damp hair spread over her pillows with her blood rushing in her ears like the surf, Phyllis' tongue hot on her clit and three fingers buried deep inside her, she feels just as safe. Phyllis licks over her cunt with a wild sort of dedication and Rhona comes, shaking, slick all over Phyllis' mouth)
(Later still, when Phyllis is sentenced, Rhona sinks beneath the waves with only the heat of her tears for warmth.)