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Entry tags:
travel without seatbelts on
Title: travel without seatbelts on
Fandom: Mogebox
Character(s): Yonaka, Ivlis
Pairing(s): Ivlis/Yonaka
Genre: Smut/Angst
Word Count: 635
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Yonaka misses Ivlis when he's dragged away.
Notes: Not a request.
Yonaka spends more time than she’d like missing Ivlis.
It’s not his fault when Reficul and Satanick drag him away. He doesn’t tell her or the others about what the Devils do to him when he’s gone: he just insists that they hide every time his tormentors come around. Yonaka isn’t capable of dealing with Satanick any more than Ivlis is, so she obeys, as much as she’d like to just punch that pervert in the face.
She misses Ivlis, and she worries about him when he’s gone.
While he’s away, she spends some of her time trying to distract herself, and some of her time trying to attach herself to what pieces of Ivlis are still in the castle. Right now she’s doing the latter as she lies on his bed and breathes in the scent of him still clinging to his pillow.
...There’s a scarf on top of his laundry basket, she notices.
Even Yonaka doesn’t dare to open his drawer full of scarves. He’s touchy about anyone going near them. But the laundry basket is fair game.
She picks up the scarf. It has his scent of smoke all over it, and she’d never enjoyed that smell before meeting him. Now that she’s used to being near him, even a whiff of it reminds her of his presence, and she smiles as she buries her face in it.
It’s still slightly warm. He must have only taken it off this morning, just before getting dragged away. She imagines him wearing it, and her with her face against his chest.
Her heart is aching in his absence. Her body is aching, too, but in a different way.
Her clothes in the Flame World are lightweight and easy to slip off, dropped carelessly beside his bed. She presses the scarf against her bare breast, rubs the soft material over herself and shudders. Ivlis’s hands are not nearly so soft, but the scent is all him.
For the moment, she can pretend that he’s there with her, and not somewhere else with who knows what indignities being forced upon him. She can’t help him at all, so this is only a way to help herself.
There are some tasks Ivlis’s hands just aren’t suited for, which makes it easier when her own hands slip down her stomach to slide against her wetness, then inside. She’s done this for him many times, spread herself open while he watched. With her eyes shut and the smell of smoke surrounding her, it’s easy to imagine that he’s near.
“Ivlis…” Her fingers press deeper into herself, drawing out soft gasps.
There’s a sound like a door opening that she doesn’t register, but a voice shortly afterwards breaks through her mental haze. “Yonaka?!”
Yonaka’s eyes snap open. Ivlis is staring at her, standing just inside his room. She makes to cover herself with his scarf, but it’s not well-suited for the job.
“...Hi,” she says, red in the face. “When did you get back?”
“Just now.” Ivlis looks her up and down, making her blush even more. “...Looks good on ya.”
“Thanks.” Yonaka swallows. “It’s really no replacement for you, though.”
He’s over her in an instant. Kisses are left over her shoulders and chest while he throws his coat and pants off. Another moment, and he’s pushing inside her. Yonaka keens and wraps her legs around his waist.
Every time he’s dragged away, she worries he won’t come back, or they’ll do who knows what to him. Every time he comes home, she has to reassure herself that he’s there, real and solid and alright.
He’s solid now, rocking her into the bed with each thrust. So she clings to him, breathes in the scent of smoke, and forgets for the moment that it won’t be the last time.
Fandom: Mogebox
Character(s): Yonaka, Ivlis
Pairing(s): Ivlis/Yonaka
Genre: Smut/Angst
Word Count: 635
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Yonaka misses Ivlis when he's dragged away.
Notes: Not a request.
Yonaka spends more time than she’d like missing Ivlis.
It’s not his fault when Reficul and Satanick drag him away. He doesn’t tell her or the others about what the Devils do to him when he’s gone: he just insists that they hide every time his tormentors come around. Yonaka isn’t capable of dealing with Satanick any more than Ivlis is, so she obeys, as much as she’d like to just punch that pervert in the face.
She misses Ivlis, and she worries about him when he’s gone.
While he’s away, she spends some of her time trying to distract herself, and some of her time trying to attach herself to what pieces of Ivlis are still in the castle. Right now she’s doing the latter as she lies on his bed and breathes in the scent of him still clinging to his pillow.
...There’s a scarf on top of his laundry basket, she notices.
Even Yonaka doesn’t dare to open his drawer full of scarves. He’s touchy about anyone going near them. But the laundry basket is fair game.
She picks up the scarf. It has his scent of smoke all over it, and she’d never enjoyed that smell before meeting him. Now that she’s used to being near him, even a whiff of it reminds her of his presence, and she smiles as she buries her face in it.
It’s still slightly warm. He must have only taken it off this morning, just before getting dragged away. She imagines him wearing it, and her with her face against his chest.
Her heart is aching in his absence. Her body is aching, too, but in a different way.
Her clothes in the Flame World are lightweight and easy to slip off, dropped carelessly beside his bed. She presses the scarf against her bare breast, rubs the soft material over herself and shudders. Ivlis’s hands are not nearly so soft, but the scent is all him.
For the moment, she can pretend that he’s there with her, and not somewhere else with who knows what indignities being forced upon him. She can’t help him at all, so this is only a way to help herself.
There are some tasks Ivlis’s hands just aren’t suited for, which makes it easier when her own hands slip down her stomach to slide against her wetness, then inside. She’s done this for him many times, spread herself open while he watched. With her eyes shut and the smell of smoke surrounding her, it’s easy to imagine that he’s near.
“Ivlis…” Her fingers press deeper into herself, drawing out soft gasps.
There’s a sound like a door opening that she doesn’t register, but a voice shortly afterwards breaks through her mental haze. “Yonaka?!”
Yonaka’s eyes snap open. Ivlis is staring at her, standing just inside his room. She makes to cover herself with his scarf, but it’s not well-suited for the job.
“...Hi,” she says, red in the face. “When did you get back?”
“Just now.” Ivlis looks her up and down, making her blush even more. “...Looks good on ya.”
“Thanks.” Yonaka swallows. “It’s really no replacement for you, though.”
He’s over her in an instant. Kisses are left over her shoulders and chest while he throws his coat and pants off. Another moment, and he’s pushing inside her. Yonaka keens and wraps her legs around his waist.
Every time he’s dragged away, she worries he won’t come back, or they’ll do who knows what to him. Every time he comes home, she has to reassure herself that he’s there, real and solid and alright.
He’s solid now, rocking her into the bed with each thrust. So she clings to him, breathes in the scent of smoke, and forgets for the moment that it won’t be the last time.