stuck meme

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stuck meme

esuna off that paralysis Post toplevels, reply as usual. Hope you enjoy your quality time with your thread partner, now that you're stuck... 01. IN A CROWD — for bonus points: in a crowd, after an argument. 02. DEFENDING THE BASE — while you wait for reinforcements to arrive. Good luck! 03. ON A RAFT — or a manacutter or an airship or something, drifting towards a deserted island. 04. IN A RELATIONSHIP — that your thread partner is trying to break you out of. The relationship can be with someone else... or just your bed/pet/hobby/gambling habit. 05. IN A WAITING ROOM — while you're waiting to hear a healer/conjurer/physician/chirurgeon's assessment, and you really didn't want to run into anyone... or maybe you'd like some emotional support? 06. TRYING TO NAVIGATE — through the Ul'dahn marketplace, maybe, or Hawker's Alley, or any number of confusing Lominsan/Gridanian/Sharlayan alleyways. 07. STANDING GUARD — wherever might be applicable: outside the Rising Stones? Rowena's House of Splendors? Or maybe awkwardly in front of a bedroom with a near-stranger so that the person who hired you to keep watch can get it on inside... 08. WITH YOUR HAIR — caught in someone else's belt or leather sheath or inexplicable shoulder spike... oh, adventurers and their impractical clothing. 09. DELIVERING TERRIBLE NEWS — exactly what's on the tin. Sucks to be you. 10. DOING THE DISHES — at a restaurant where you forgot your wallet and couldn't pay the bill. 11. IN A LAKE — because this person caught you skinny-dipping and won't... go... away... 12. WAITING TO BE RANSOMED — in the actually-quite-loving care of some especially incompetent criminals. Enjoy being stuck! This meme was gently lifted off bakerstreet.

TEMPLATE CODED BY valoirs

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[valhourdin]

[ Francel's apparent sulking earns him Zephirin's surrender of a different sort: the knight leans down briefly to kiss his pout. He kisses Francel's palm, too, and the pulse in his wrist as his fingers caress Francel through that final barrier of his smallclothes. At last, they hook around the garment's waistband, and ease it from Francel's hips, down towards his knees.

Zephirin offers his answer, echoing Francel's sins confessed: ]

I would conquer you, my love. [ The knight's palms rest against his lover's thighs, warm, gently spreading Francel's long legs wider. ] I would use you wildly, fill your sacred vessel with all that I have to give. I will not leave this place ere your body is sated by mine.

[ He cannot know Francel's thoughts not shared aloud, the boy's wonderment, but the look he wears refutes them. Francel has claimed Zephirin's heart, held it securely all these years, and none of it is a dream from which they will wake, alone in a cathedral's pews. ]

[haillenarte]

[zephirin promises francel his own oaths, sworn in reverse, and the young priest sighs blissfully as he listens to them, to the warm timbre of zephirin's voice, promising him salvation. eager for more, he spreads his legs and allows zephirin's hands to guide him; his head lolls lazily against his pillow as he nods toward his bedside drawer with its familiar bottle of prayer-oil. father joacin may have prepared himself in earnest, but it would not hurt to treat him still more tenderly.

his zephirin's eyes speak of hunger, of rapturous desire. of burning loyalty, the likes of which no other man could ever promise him.]

Hurry, then — let me feel you. Carve your body into my senses. I ache for it...

[valhourdin]

[ With another kiss, this one pressed to the tip of Francel's ear, Zephirin draws away just enough to pull the drawer open and retrieve the small bottle within. Francel will be pliant after his preparations and the confessional prelude, and so his Temple Knight concentrates his efforts on readying himself to make certain of his lover's comfort. A liberal coating of oil turns his length slick; for Francel's ears, he pours another handful of drops onto his free palm to rub between his fingertips. ]

My Joacin...

[ Breathing out the familiar, intimate sounds of the name, fingers tracing Francel's right ear, Zephirin makes haste to shorten their aching. Easily, he enters Francel once more, deep and still deeper, and sets a steady pace anew. He leans in, once again, to kiss Francel's plush, perfect, sullied mouth. ]

[haillenarte]

Oh — mmngh — nnnnnaaaah...

[a fresh cry spills out from francel's mouth — his voice is sweet, utterly unrestrained by any need to keep quiet, and when zephirin has sheathed to the hilt inside of him, the young priest whimpers rapturously, hands fisted in his sheets. so good, so good — he can think of nothing more pure and beautiful than how full and tight his zephirin makes him feel, and the fact that his soft moans soon dip into guttural gasping is proof of it. the slick fingers over his ear blow all coherent thought from his mind; he cocks his hips upward into the pressure, demanding more more more with every shaky jerk of his body, and when zephirin kisses him, his heart sings of the heavens. he kisses back, ferociously, weakly, full of passion, but too full with pleasure to do a proper job of it.]

Zephi — ah, mmgh — nnnnhah, ah, more...

[valhourdin]

[ Every sound uttered combines into a symphony well-known and sweet to Zephirin's ears — it would be a shame to muffle the melody of Francel's voice as its notes rise towards a crescendo. Zephirin takes his kisses elsewhere, to the fluttering pulse in Francel's throat, to the young priest's sensitive ears alongside each tender stroke of Zephirin's fingers, lower to Francel's collarbones.

Their bodies as one, they fall into a rhythm that comes naturally, comfortably, but the ecstasy of it feels fresh and heady, just as it did years ago. Nigh effortlessly now, however, Zephirin knows to anticipate the precise moment of Francel's climax, knows when a single touch more for the tip of one ear might push his beloved over the edge.

He knows to restrain himself, awaiting that moment. ]

[haillenarte]

Yes — yes — I — nngh, ah, yes, so close so close s-so good, hnnnn —

[francel's fevered cries grow more hurried, more frantic, and there is no mistaking that he is deep in the throes of ecstasy, this time — unlike his more subdued reactions during their more secretive union in the confessional, francel now gasps and writhes without fear or shame, and he is beautiful, fucked on his back in his bed in the vault, surrounded by all the things that should make him holy, yet positively drowning in sin.

his body lurches soon enough, conquered by zephirin's, only barely aware of zephirin's warm and loving kisses, conscious of almost nothing by the exquisite feel of him pressed deep inside francel's belly, all sensual, unbearable tension in his cock — and then, finally, with that single touch to the tip of his ear, francel closes his eyes and shudders, coming hard, spilling thick hot seed all over his belly, even up to his neck.]

Zeph — i — aaah!

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin lets go in unison, gasping out his accompaniment to Francel's rapture — his Joacin's name, each syllable laden with rare raw emotion. Francel tightens around him, flushed and quivering, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and Zephirin fills him to overflowing, pressed impossibly close.

Slowly, as all tension ebbs from their limbs, the knight loosens his grip on his lover, propping himself up over Francel.

The sight before him is familiar, too, but no less breathtaking than it was the very first time that he beheld it; Francel, spent and undone and momentarily sated, stained with his own seed and full to the brim with Zephirin's, makes a lovely vision atop the crinkled sheets.

Tenderly after these past wilder, ravenous moments, Zephirin's fingers trace reddened marks upon Francel's skin. He leans close, their bodies yet interlocked, and laps up a cooling pale streak near the hollow of Francel's throat. ]

[haillenarte]

[another soft moan is the first thing to escape francel's lips after his throaty, satiated cry. he floats weightlessly, on the edge of dreams, full of tenderness and adoration for the beautiful knight who claimed his heart and found something to love in him. his body is reddened and flushed in lovely ways, but he feels no pain; he is conscious only of the wet, hot tongue at his neck, the warm satisfaction of zephirin, soft but still sheathed inside of him.]

...Mmm.

[so good, he wants to whisper, this time; this time, zephirin, i am pleased.]

This is... what I wanted. [another blissful sigh.] What I dreamt of... What I've longed for...

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's vows are fulfilled, then, his Joacin properly rewarded and appeased. The knight lifts his head, his gaze a mirror of Francel's heart, warm with fondness as he regards his beloved, renewing his memories to take from this room when they part ways. Touching the tips of their noses together, he withdraws only slightly to tuck himself against Francel's side, one arm curled around Francel's waist.

A bath to follow their intimacy is not like to separate them, but for the moment, the appeal of cleansing themselves pales beside resting upon the sheets together, entwined and at peace, enveloped in a contented haze.

Divine judgment or idle whispers seem distant things. ]

You grant me my wishes, my Joacin, as ever. [ This, Zephirin murmurs into Francel's ear, thumb stroking the curve of the young priest's cheek. ] I fear I am well and truly tempted into persisting in my sins, unrepentant.

[haillenarte]

Mmmm... then if we must fall, at least we shall fall together.

[priest though he may be, francel seems wholly unconcerned with the fate of their souls in this moment. what matters is the now, that they are together and love each other now — and what sort of goddess would the fury be to frown on the purity of love?

with a great effort, francel opens his eyes halfway, gazing dreamily at his beloved resting beside him. he thinks back on the first time he saw zephirin thus unclothed, the way he'd approached the temple knight under the pretense of healing treatment... how silly he'd been, how naughty! he wanted so much, he understood so little...

zephirin's body is chiseled as ever, his skin smooth and pale and seemingly untouched, though of course francel knows that he has touched zephirin in every way imaginable, and there is tantalizing, evanescent proof of it now, in the light flush to his cheeks.

still, francel suddenly feels greedy for more. on a whim, he leans forward, gently sinking his teeth into the delicate expanse of skin across the meaty muscle of zephirin's shoulder. he does not bite hard enough to break skin — he is too weak and drowsy to manage that — but he is clearly doing his best to bite, dangerous as a kitten whose teeth have yet to come in properly.]

Nnnghnomnom...

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's hand stills. He feels no pain, merely bemused, and then swiftly amused — basking in their bliss, Francel may be drifting off then and there, and perhaps his sleepy mind makes a crisp crimson apple or buttered biscuits of his Temple Knight, his midday meal.

Or else the young priest is not yet satisfied, intent upon partaking of his lover in whatever ways he can until he has his recompense for his patience, each time that duty calls Zephirin away from his side. Regrettably, in a sense, his teeth will leave but a faint imprint, soon to fade.

Stirring again, Zephirin moves his hand lower, lightly nudging Francel in the side with his fingertips, letting them ghost teasingly across vulnerable skin. His voice is soft. ]

...As ever, too, you remain insatiable.

[haillenarte]

Hawawa... nnn.

[francel removes his teeth from zephirin's neck when the knight tickles his side, but only because he is giggling, squirming with happy sensitivity. still content, warm and radiant with a post-coital glow, the young priest settles into his pillows, licking his lips, as though at last he has partaken of the forbidden fruit he longed for, when he was a seminarian sleeping on a bench in the cathedral, his mouth open for a bit of fruit.

perhaps, one day, they will be able to love one another in public, side by side in the open streets of ishgard. today, they love each another in the shadowed halls of the vault, away from prying eyes, still happy.]

Is that not something you love about me?

[valhourdin]

[ Tiny indentations decorate Zephirin's skin for a brief time after Francel's teeth relinquish his shoulder — Francel's satisfaction, meanwhile, is carved deeper into the knight's memories. He perceives the truth of it: his beloved harboured a wish fulfilled only now, at long last, devouring him in but another way, quite deliberately.

Zephirin's palm comes to rest above Francel's hip, fingers drawing aimless patterns. Though the two of them could continue their teasing, his smile softens; his answer is sincere. ]

It counts among your many traits for which I have an abiding appreciation — but then, I love you wholly.

[ And if Francel is content as they are, their love a secret to guard, Zephirin might lay to rest the last of the qualms that once led him to strive for distance, fearing for his young friend's already bruised heart. ]