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blustersquall · 5 years

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Trying to get back into the swing of writing.

Haven’t written Thancred and Phaedra in a romantical setting before so... here we are.

Thancred reunites with Phaedra (WoL) in Il Mheg.

[Please forgive any grammatical/spelling errors or lore based errors. Lore is not my forte. I’m trying. Also, forgive me if Thancred’s “voice” is not quite there. I’ve not written him much, and there’s a lot to unpack.]

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They were alone.

For the first time since arriving in Il Mheg, it was just the two of them. Urianger was elsewhere, preparing for the journey and tasks ahead and Minfilia was outside last time Thancred checked. Phaedra stood with her back to him, poring over an open tome on the table.

Thancred’s mouth was dry. He was immobile and all the words and emotions he wanted to express had now left him dumb.

Five years.

It was five years since he last saw her. Last spoke to her. Last heard her laugh, or say his name, or just breathe. Five years for him, and he was unable to articulate himself. Unable to tell her what seeing her again meant to him.

He was able to distract himself during those long years. He focused on mastering the gunblade. Then, on finding and liberating Minfilia from Eulmore. He learned all he could about the First and the Source and how they were connected. He did all he could. He didn’t thrive, but he managed. It was easy to ignore the pang in his chest when he was focused. When he didn’t allow his thoughts to drift to the life he led in the Source. To his friends, the war they were dragged unceremoniously from. The body he left behind, and the woman he left there, too.

The Crystal Exarch was determined, there was no doubt about that. The fruit of his labours stood not ten feet from him and, true to form, Phaedra set straight to business. Ridding Lakeland of its Light Warden, and already on the path to removing another. All quiet and sincere determination; she went about what was asked without complaint or thought for herself. She ran into fights over and over again, coming out bloodied and bruised, but victorious…

Thancred moved a step. The worn wooden floor creaked under him and Phaedra shifted. A tiny change in her stance to indicate she noticed. Her tail flicked lazily from side-to-side as she turned pages without reading them. Thancred tried to summon up his voice and the words he couldn’t find.

“Do you think Urianger has these arranged in any particular order?” her voice caught and stopped him. He swallowed a breath and started to close the gap between him.

“Somehow, I doubt it.” Stopping behind her, he chose action over words. Words he could use later. He could dazzle her with his words and wit later, at that moment he wanted assurance. He wanted – needed – the certainty that she was real. That she was a physical being in the First, not just his imagination or a wild fever dream.

Phaedra stiffened a moment as he slipped his arms around her shoulders. He expected that. He also expected, and was glad, to recognise her body relaxing against his, accepting his embrace. He buried his face into her hair, squeezing the fingers of her hand that she lifted to touch his.

“I have missed you,” Thancred declared, his throat threatening to close. “Terribly.”

Phaedra leaned back into him and he adjusted his hold to bring her closer to him. His armor denied him any real contact, but it was enough to be this close. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“The Gods certainly have a sense of humor… No sooner do I return to you, I find myself being stolen away.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone. Back in the Source, they spent more time apart than in each other’s presence during the year before Thancred was unceremoniously brought to the First. At home, his need to be secretive and hidden to work in the shadows meant communication by linkpearl was out of the question, except for emergencies. He had hoped to have time with Phaedra after the fighting was done, and the war was over but then… everything happened.

“That’s hardly your fault.” Phaedra turned to face him causing Thancred to lower his arms. He hesitated a moment before allowing his hands to rest on her hips in a strangely unfamiliar yet familiar way. “It is nice to see you haven’t lost your flair for dramatic entrances.”

He chuckled, “I do enjoy showing off now and then.” The corner of Phaedra’s mouth quirked into a smile. Thancred cradled her cheek in one hand and she leaned into his touch, kissing his gloved palm and allowing her eyes to close. She clasped his hand at her cheek with her own. “You’ve hardly changed.”

“Neither have you.” Her eyes slid open, turquoise as the seas of Costa del Sol and just as breathtaking, smiling up at him. “You cut your hair though. And I notice the lack of fuzz.” She brushed her thumb over his bare chin. “And no bandana, either?”

He shrugged, “I turned up here like this… Although, naked.”

“Again?”

“Hardly my fault.”

Phaedra laughed, “you just seem to have a habit of appearing unclothed.”

“Twice is not what I would call ‘habit’, dearest.”

It was nice to joke. Nice to laugh and feel a part of himself thawing with each word shared between them. Phaedra could relax him like no one else, and he was sure he hadn’t bee relaxed since the first day he arrived in the First.

“When the Crystal Exarch told me you had taken up with another companion I…” She lowered her eyes. Thancred’s stomach sank and he nodded once.

“You think I would stray so easily?” he leaned down to her height until they were forehead to forehead.

“Well…” her cheeks darkened, “five years is a long time and…”

He held her face in both hands breathing deep to settle the swirl of nervous energy in his stomach and chest. “The Gods themselves would be unable to tempt me. You are my heart – I thought that much was clear in the Dravanian Forelands.”

Another smile came to her lips, followed by a disapproving glance that did not hold the emotion she tried to convey. Their reunion Ishgard was more physical than this one. A night in Fortemps manor wrapped up in each other’s arms, a mess of limbs and sweat, expressing through gesture what was too raw to say.

“I’m sorry,” Phaedra brushed her nose against his, an act of affection that was familiar and made Thancred tingle down to his fingertips. She exhaled shakily, her breath ghosting against his lips. Thancred’s chest grew tight as she drew closer, tilting her head to one side. She paused before they made a connection, her eyes darting up to meet his gaze as if gauging his willingness and desire. Unable to bare it, Thancred closed the space between their mouths, kissing her soundly and pushing his hands back into long, thick hair to cradle the back of her head.

Gods, she was like air to him. Like air, and sunlight, and water, and peaceful rest, and she was like a blast of colour that spread across his vision and allowed him to see the beauty in the world of the First since he arrived here. Phaedra’s arms encircled his neck and Thancred stole a breath when she deepened the kiss and pulled him closer. He was both unwilling and unable to release her; this was something he had dreamed of in the five long years he’d been in this world forsaken by Darkness. The memory of Phaedra’s lips, her voice, the texture of her scales, the smell of her skin and weight of her were all fading before this moment. They were all sensations on the ver edge of Thancred’s memory, things he desperately tried to chase when in those moments between awake and asleep. To suddenly have her again in his arms; real, vibrant and his was almost too much to take.

Phaedra pulled away and Thancred concealed a chuckle, taking stock of her flushed face and slightly reddened lips. She smiled as he drew a thumb along her lower lip and laughed along with him. After a few moments he sighed.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“We do.” Phaedra nodded once, “but more than that, we have a world to save.”

“Trust you to think of business.” Thancred quirked a brow and straightened up. Phaedra turned her gaze to the door that led to Urianger’s chamber; there was noise coming from within.

“The sooner we rid the First of this plague of light, the sooner all of us can go home.”

Thancred squeezed her hand, “let’s concentrate on Il Mheg. One step at a time, hm?”

Phaedra gave him a gentle shove as Urianger joined them.

I’m still bad at ending things. whee.

#thancred #thancred waters #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #thancred x WoL #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #phaedra mero #thancred x phaedra #writing #my writing #short

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forgiven-whimsy · 4 years

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You know, the plan was for Shiloh to work on her trauma and heal (as much as a WOL can heal) after Shadowbringers in Doma with Hien, and Hien would be her end game, that she would finally accept love without fear with him, and work up to a healthy relationship with him. Now I’ve flip flopped a number of times, I’ve pictured her ending up with Estinien, with Hien, I’ve even toyed with the idea of her and Aymeric getting back together, I’ve thought of her and Y’shtola coming together at the end of things. and now...NOW, since I follow so many hugely talented Wol x Thancred content creators, a certain grumpy rogue turned gunbreaker has entered into the fray.

There would be a certain poetry to her ending up with Thancred, After everything they went through together (both in game canon, and my own personal canon,) it would actually work really really well. It would also break her away from the cycle of falling in love with leaders of nations, something that gives her a ton of anxiety, especially with how badly things between her and Aymeric ended. I’m still writing the first part, the ARR part, so nothing is finalized, and if ever there was a time to change my mind, it would be now. So I’m going to let thoughts percolate, and we’ll see where I end up when I finally get to writing about that part of Shiloh’s story.

I lay the blame of my indecision squarely at the feet of @eremiss @anomaliewrites and @phaedra-mero. I’ve always liked Thancred, but you three have helped me fall in love with him.

#Exposed writes #A lot of it is wondering who would be best suited to her #who is best equipped to help her heal #who's personality would be patient enough for an especially broken Shiloh #And Hien is always right at the top of that list.#but the fact that there's a list now has me thinking of other possibilities.

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blustersquall · 5 years

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Reunion

Thancred and the WoL have a personal reunion in Ishgard. Takes place during Heavensward 3.1 patch. [Finished version of the thing I uploaded yesterday].

Thancred x female WoL. Raen Au Ra. nsft

Words: 4307 under the read more.

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Its late when they arrive in Ishgard and make their way to the Fortemps manor house. Later still when Phaedra is sure everyone else has retired for the night after an evening of drinking and catching up with their recently returned rogue. She disappeared from the revelries earlier than everyone else; the run in with the Warriors of Darkness weighs heavy on her mind; but more than that being near Thancred again has brought to light feelings she thought were buried and forgotten.

He’s different to the man he was; not just in appearance but in temperament as well. He’s broader across the shoulders and his hair is longer, and the bandanna that covers one eye is hard to miss. The muscles in his arms seem more defined and he even seems to stand taller. He laughs less heartily but does manage to laugh. He speaks less, letting others monopolize the conversation while he listens. He drinks very little, and in the moments where he lets his guard drop there’s a severity to his expression. There are matters weighing on him, too.

But he smiles. Oh Gods, he still smiles. And it’s the smile he gave her when he appeared in the midst of the fight, as if sent by the Gods themselves, that lingers in Phaedra’s mind. That smile… So soft and genuine and loving. So… different to any smile he’s ever offered her before. It set her whole body tingling to see it and more so to recall it. He’s smiled at her before. Many times. A sarcastic grin here, a cheeky, flirtatious smirk there, all expressions he used on many to win their hearts and get his way. Never has he looked at her with such open warmth and sincerity.

That smile, among other things, is what keeps her awake. Its what causes her to stir from her soft bed and rise, determined to find a way to distract her mind. She waits by her door listening for sound. It’s dark outside the windows and she strains for a moment, listening.

Nothing.

Stepping out into the hall she is surprised to see him – Thancred - down the hall. He’s still in the same clothes he arrived in and it doesn’t look like he has slept yet, either. He looks as surprised to see her as she feels, yet neither of them makes to move or speak. They are each caught in something invisible, yet tangible that is binding them together. Something so primal and instinctual it doesn’t have a name to call its own. Her gaze is locked with his, unable to look away or unwilling; she’s not sure. Her breath grows shorter and she can feel something constrict around her rib cage.

Phaedra parts her lips as if about to speak but her voice fades on her tongue. Thancred’s visible eye darts to the subtle movement of her mouth and she is sure he gulps on something. Without a word, she retreats back behind her bedroom door and to the sanctuary of her room. She leans on the wood, body quivering inside and out while she chases shaky breath after shaky breath and tries to focus on the sturdy edifice before her. Thancred has always been able to make her blush with a well-placed word but this is… different. This is deeper and harsher and yearning. This is… something entirely new.

She would be lying if she said she never thought about him in a more intimate sense. Lying to herself and to whatever Gods might have been looking in to say she never thought about him romantically. She would be lying to say his words never hit a mark, or that she never experienced a sense of longing. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that his loss hurt the most. Lying if she said that after finding safety, she spent the first few nights mourning him more than any other Scion. Mourning him, and the thought of what might have been. What could have been. Mourning the loss of a love she wanted and yet was denied. First by duty as a Scion, then by Lahabrea, and then again by the machinations of the Syndicate.

There’s a knock that surprises her, and she turns to open the door on instinct. Thancred is on the other side, and he requests entry without uttering a single word. She steps back once he’s inside and he closes the door behind him; his gaze never leaves her and aside from the click of the latch, everything is silent. For what feels like an eternity they stare at each other. Watching. Waiting. Gauging one another. The intensity of… whatever is between them is more palpable now there is less space. Its like a string or cord is wrapped around them both and is urging them together. Phaedra breathes, her chest rising and falling on each measured and deliberate one. She’s trying to give an air of calm. She doesn’t want him to see the thud of her heart or – Gods – how much she wants him and has missed him. Missed his stupid face, and his stupid voice, and his stupid laugh.

And his smile. His stupid, foolish, wonderful smile.

Before she can register what is happening, he crosses towards her in a few short strides and his mouth is on hers. She melts into him without hesitation, lifting her arms to burying her hands in his unkempt hair; sweeping it away from his face, deepening the kiss and standing on her toes so he doesn’t have to strain so much. Thancred cradles her face just beneath her horns, stroking her skin and scales with a touch that is practiced but also hesitant. His breath shakes when he breaks away for a moment, adjusts the angle of his mouth and kisses her again.

They both know their friendship will never be the same after this.

Neither of them care.

Her fingers search for buckles and buttons and she slowly strips him of each item of clothing covering his top half. She relishes his skin beneath her hands. Hard muscle, and soft, warm flesh. A few scars from altercations. He is marble and clay, hard but maliable. He is steadfast and strong. And for the moment he is hers in a way she never dared to hope he would be.

Thancred’s kisses are practiced and sure. He leaves her mouth to kiss down her neck, burying his face into her skin and pausing to bite at the juncture of her shoulder. Phaedra barely conceals a gasp and digs her fingers into his bare shoulders for good measure; that earns a chuckle from low in his chest that vibrates all the way through her down to the tip of her tail. His fingers, certain of their task, make quick work of her clothing helping her shed each garment and leaving them to decorate the floor. He lifts her with ease, carries her across to the large bed and places her down upon the sheets his gaze locked on hers the entire time. She can see him well enough in the candlelight, the expression of certainty and determination on his face is uncharacteristic, but it fills her with a sense of anticipation she’s never experienced with anyone.

Phaedra shifts on the covers a little, leaning back on one hand while Thancred removes his boots, trousers and his small clothes with them. His cock is already hard, though he gives Phaedra little time to look before he climbs onto the bed with her, one knee positioned between her legs and claims her mouth again. She strokes her hands down his back mapping his shoulder blades and his spine, spreading her legs to accomdate his larger bulk as he guides her to lie back.

He keeps most of his weight on his knees, careful not to crush her or crowd her and his hair tickles her nose and neck when he presses more white-hot kisses across her skin. It feels like his hands are everywhere at once, caressing her breasts, her back, her ass, her thighs and then between her legs. She lifts her hips when his fingers slide along her lower lips, probing and stroking while he tends to a nipple with his tongue. She swallows loud enough that its audible. When Thancred chuckles, she knows he heard it, too. Weaving her fingers through his white hair she rolls her hips into the gentle wandering of his hand and fingers. He eases them inside her, exploring and learning and memorizing with every touch.

The rhythm his sets is slow to begin with as he lets her grow accustomed to the intrusion of his fingers. He begins to spread her a little at a time, slipping a third finger inside. Phaedra is sure she is soaking the sheets beneath them and attempts to close her legs. Thancred stops, withdraws from her breathing hard and his expression a mixture of confused and uneasy.

“Do you want to stop?”

She blinks rapidly up at him, eyes focusing in on the concern evident on his face and in his uncovered eye. Her breathing is shallow and fast; she can’t remember when or why she closed her eyes in the first place.

Phaedra shakes her head several times. “I just don’t want to dirty the sheets…” Her cheeks, already hot, grow hotter when she realizes what a foolish thing to say that is and she covers her face with one hand to hide the embaressment. Thancred gives a breathless chuckle above her. He bats her hand from her face before cradling her cheek again in one hand. His eye moves over her features before he sighs and brings himself in to kiss her. He kisses her deep and searing with heat, his damp fingers moving to card through the hair that has come loose from her ponytail.

“That’s just like you…” he sighs against her lips. “Worrying about the workload of others… Even something as mundane as washing dirty sheets.” He brushes his nose against hers and kisses the curve of her jaw. “I missed you… In the expanse of the lifestream I missed you… Somehow, some part of me was concious enough to miss you and want you and need you.”

The weight of his words, the heaviness of them and the roughness of his tone – thick with emotion he doesn’t yet know how to say – is enough for Phaedra to know he isn’t joking or playing with her. He is serious. As serious as she has ever heard him, and her heart aches behind her rib cage.

“I missed you, too.” Pain prickles behind her nose and she forces it back with a smile, “I thought you were… I didn’t dare hope that…” Words are hard. There are so many things she wants to say. So many things he deserves to hear and that she’s kept locked inside for so long but giving them the air they deserve is difficult. She’s afraid, deep down beneath the lust and the longing is the fear. The fear that if she says something that is too honest and too close to her heart that he’ll retreat from her and retreat from this. “Thancred…”

He looks at her directly at the sound of his name. Phaedra draws her fingers down his face, ghosting over the bandanna that half covers his face. She tilts an eyebrow, asking his permission. He gives it by closing his visible eye and inclining his head towards her. Her fingers shake when she unties the material and lets it flutter to the ground. Thancred blinks his eyes hard and Phaedra pushes his hair back to see what he was so eager to hide.

The iris of this eye is milky-white. Similar to the colour of Y’shtola’s, but not exactly the same. The corners of Thancred’s mouth pull into a brief, awkward smile. Clearly it bothers him, or he wouldn’t cover it. Cupping his cheek, Phaedra leans up towards him and presses a butterfly kiss to his eyelid. He laughs again. A light chuff through his nose and above her, his body relaxes. He captures her mouth as she’s moving away; a softer kiss this time and he begins to trail his fingers up and down her sides.

“Tickles…” Phaedra mumbles against his lips, squirming as he brushes a particularly sensitive spot slightly above her hips.

“Hmm…” Thancred continues to caress her and he smiles into the kiss with each jolt of her body his touch is rewarded with. Phaedra wriggles, body squirming and writhing in a half-hearted effort to get away from his wandering hands. He moves against her, and in moments his hands are distracted, one gripping to her thigh as she hooks it over his hip and the other pressing into her back. They rut and grind and rub against one another, his cock pressing into the softness of her belly hard and she can feel hot pre-cum leaking onto her skin. His skin grows slick with sweat and Phaedra bites her lip to keep her voice down.

Heat builds in the depths of her belly, curling and coiling around itself before creating molten rivulets down to pool between her thighs. There’s a pulsing ache that is as insistent as a heartbeat and twice as fast that is distracting and intoxicating all at once.

“Thancred,” Phaedra half-speaks and half-moans. He digs his fingers into her thigh, sliding them up towards her ass where he grabs, hard, onto her flesh. She grips his shoulders, pushes and follows through with the motion as he rolls and topples onto his back. His wears a dazed and surprised look for a moment before coming to his senses. He takes stock of the change in position, of her astride him, naked and breathing hard with sweat beading on her skin.

He sits and adjusts their positions until they’re skin-to-skin. Phaedra knows she could speak. Knows she could take charge, but she lets him lead. Lets him guide this encounter in the hopes she will be able to dictate later ones. Thancred’s eyes never leave hers, except to close when they kiss. He slides his hand between her legs, his fingers moving through the wetness at the juncture of her legs. Phaedra shivers to feel his touch to intimately. He circles her clit with a well-practiced touch before his hand his gone and, after a moment, the head of his cock replaces it.

“Ready?” he asks her, voice hoarse and deep with desire. He nibbles her jaw while he waits for her answer, slowly drawing the head of his cock back-and-forth between her lower lips, coating himself in her slick.

“Mhm-hm,” Phaedra presses her forehead to his, letting her eyes slip closed as he holds his length still in one hand and guides her to sink down onto him with with other. She’s taken aback by how much thicker he is than she imagined; and she has imagined, many times. He’s thicker, filling her and stretching her with a slight pinching sensation. His groans fill her ears, and he holds her thighs in his hands, waiting until she gives the confirmation to continue. He feels good inside her, hot, and thick and he makes her feel full. When he’s hilted, his voice staggers and his breath shakes.

“Twelve, Phaedra—"

Her eyes fly open. Its rare for anyone to call her by her name. Normally its one of the many monikers she’s obtained over the years. Adventurer. Primal Slayer. Scion. Her name is a rarity. And to hear Thancred say it… Its like hearing it for the first time. Carding her fingers through his hair, she kisses him deeply and begins to move, rolling her hips forward at a painfully slow pace. He exhales a breath he’s been holding and starts to match her movements, thrusting his hips up. Sweat pools in the crease of her knees and Thancred’s hands slip and slide over her flesh occasionally catching on her scales as their pace quickens. They fall into a rhythm that has them each panting and stealing breaths between burning kisses and murmurs of praise.

Thancred is a talker, but most of his words are a jumble of positive words mixed in with her name. Phaedra isn’t sure he’s even aware he’s forming words. His hips press and rub her clit with ever connection their bodies make and her heart pounds as the bliss of oblivion that hovers out of reach edges closer and closer. He drags his fingernails across her back and down her spine, following muscle and sinue and pressing her close to him. The smell and sound of them fills the room, but he intoxicates her with every sound and gesture. His lips press to her throat and his teeth press hard enough to feel into her flesh. The tops of his thighs smack the back of hers each time he drives into her, and there’s no feeling comparable to how he fills her and how he feels inside her. It’s divine and terrible all at the same time. To think she has this now, and to fear this may never happen again.

“Gods above, Thancred—” her voice is rising and all attempts to stifle herself have turned to dust now. If she’s heard, then she’s heard. She’d rather he knows that he pleases her, than not. And he does please her. His every touch creates invisible sparks on her skin that are like lightning and fire, and he touches to explore and to learn what creates the reactions he wants. She learns, too. She learns that his neck is sensitive around his Archon tattoos. She learns that biting his bottom lip will earn either a whine or a growl. She learns that he grabs and squeezes and is wonderfully tactile in his love making.

His teeth skim her jawbone and he wraps one hand up in her hair where it’s now come completely loose. He kisses the corner of her mouth, then her bottom lip, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He peers into her eyes, breathing hard and open-mouthed. “Alright?” he asks between sharp breaths.

“Yes,” her reply is just as breathless, and she pushes her face into his neck chasing the release that is almost upon her. “Feels good—”

Thancred’s finger press into her spine. “--should have done this years ago.” His voice is a harsh murmur, but it makes her laugh all the same. He groans and begins to drive his cock into her harder and faster than before. She clings to him, trying to match his frantic pace, but hardly able to keep up. She begs and pleads with incoherant sounds and words for him to keep going. Out of no where, she feels one of his hands wrap around the base of her tail and before she can question him, Thancred has pulled slightly and pressed his fingers into where the underside meets her back. The orgasm approaching her is upon her like a tidal wave and her whole body quivers. She throbs around Thancred’s cock, unable to catch her breath and then she’s toppling. Falling to one side shaking and trembling as her toes curl and her fingers clench.

Phaedra’s senses return after Gods know how much time. She’s on her side on her bed and Thancred leans over her with worry apparent on his handsome face.

“What was that?” he asks, a smile breaking through the concern; clearly pleased to see he’s not just killed the Warrior of Light.

Phaedra’s mouth feels sluggish when she tries to form words. “Youpulledmytail…” she groans into the pillow.

He cocks a brow. “Your…”

“Ishsensitive.”

She rolls and flops onto her front. Her whole body feels like a giant heartbeat.

“I…” Thancred strokes her back and the bed moves beneath his weight. Phaedra glances back over her shoulder to see him stroking his length. He didn’t finish, she realises. She fell off him. “My apologies. I didn’t realise it would have such an effect.”

Calmer now, she smirks into the pillow. “I wasn’t expecting tail-grabbing.” She tells him, shifting and slowly getting to her knees while leaning forward on her arms. Looking behind her, she catches his eye and glances down at his cock and then back up at his face. Thancred grins in response and nudges her legs apart, eager to finish. He strokes the head of his cock against her and guides himself inside her once more, pressing his hands into her hips and her ass.

“I didn’t realise it was out-of-bounds,” he speaks between thrusts, his skin slapping hers. He hits her deep and in a place that makes her extremities feel like they’re fizzing. Phaedra digs her fingers into the pillow beneath her head and pushes back into each drive of his hips. Thancred grunts, and strokes her thighs and back, exploring and mapping. He alternates between thrusting and a slower drive of his hips, a roll that is wonderfully torturous to feel and brings a sound of mutual satisfaction from the body of them each time he does it. This time when he touches her tail it’s simply to hold it out of the way, but her body still tenses a little.

At some point, Phaedra pushes herself up onto her hands and her hair spills over her right shoulder when she looks back at him. His face is drawn in effort and concentration, his nostrils are flared, and his teeth clench together. He slides one hand up to grip her shoulder and with a tug, he pulls her up onto her knees until her shoulders press back into his chest and her back curves. He kisses the curve of her jaw, her neck, wrapping both arms around her. One hand dips between her legs and the other caresses her breasts.

He’s close. The steady rhythm of his hips grows more erratic and he hisses his breaths between his teeth. Phaedra pushes one hand back through his hair closing her eyes and allowing her other senses to take over. She listens to the sound of his breathing and of his skin meeting hers. The smell of him envelopes her, and the feel of his hands on her and of his cock inside her are feelings she wants imprinted on her memory.

“Phae,” he whispers her name, mouthing against her skin as his hips come to a stop with him inside her. She falls forward and he follows, curling one arm around her waist to hold her close to him. She can feel his cock throbbing, his cheek pressing to her shoulder blade, and his heartbeat thundering into her chest through his own. His kisses her back as he catches his breath, driving his hips a few more times, albeit weakly before he fully pulls out of her.

Before Phaedra can so much as turn and kiss him, Thancred is on his feet and crosses the room to where there is a washstand and basin. Trying not to let disappointment fill her, Phaedra drops her eyes waiting for the inevitable moment that he leaves. Instead, he fills the basin with water from a pitcher, grabs a cloth that is on the side, wets and wrings it out and brings it to her.

“To avoid dirtying the sheets any further.” He says, grinning.

“You’re terrible.” Phaedra retorts, smiling. She takes the cloth and quickly cleans between her legs. Thancred returns to the basin and washes his neck and face with another cloth. When Phaedra is satisfied with her own cleanliness, she climbs off the bed to drop the cloth next to the basin and then quickly wraps her arms around Thancred, pressing her cheek to his back. “So…” It’s a lame start, but her mind is vacant of any other things to say.

“We waited far too long to do this,” Thancred says. He puts his cloth in the basin and turns within her arms. Phaedra loosens her grip and he holds her face in his hands. “I waited too long to act on my feelings.”

“Thancred…” she feels like she should blush, but that seems pointless now. He’s seen her naked as the day she was born, what need is there now for bashfulness? There’s so much to say, so much to talk about and things that need to be addressed, but it doesn’t feel like the right moment for such conversations. Phaedra wants to enjoy this private reunion with him. To bask in the afterglow of what has just passed between them and has changed. She takes his hands in her own and takes a step back towards the bed. “Stay.”

He doesn’t resist, and he watches he lies on his side, curling an arm around her shoulders. Phaedra falls asleep quickly and wakes not much later. She’s on her front and she glances to the side to see Thancred still beside her. Her movement disturbs him, and he rubs his white eye while pushing his hair back.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice alert. “You were asleep.”

She was. And there’s proof that he was comfortably dozing. Her arm is stretched out over his chest, and his arm is beneath her pillow, his fingers fiddling with her hair. He strokes her arm with his free hand.

“I dreamt I woke up and you were gone.” She tells him the truth, there’s no point in lying.

Thancred’s mouth curves into a brief smile. He shuffles across the sheets to her and nestles close, stroking her back with the palm of his hand. “I won’t leave unless you want me to.” Phaedra relaxes into her pillow and he kisses her brow. “Go back to sleep. I’ll rouse you in the morning.”

“You’ll still be here?” she closes her eyes.

“I promise.”

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Feedback is welcome. Please let me know your thoughts??? Also up on AO3 under the same title and username.

#thancred #thancred waters #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #thancred x wol #phaedra mero #writing #thancred x phaedra

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blustersquall · 5 years

Text

here’s a thing I started writing to force myself to write and I lost steam half way through.

Uploading for posterity. Maybe I’ll come back to it. I want to. No idea what the hell i’m doing with tenses. Someone please come and give me my creativity back, plsthx.

Feedback welcome.

Thancred x WoL (female, raen Au Ra) sorta smutty but like, not graphically. Set just after the reunion of Thancred with the group in Heavensward (So, like... 3.2 ish?)

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Its late when they arrive in Ishgard and make their way to the Fortemps manor house. Later still when Phaedra is sure everyone else has retired for the night after an evening of drinking and catching up with their recently returned rogue. She disappeared from the revelries earlier than everyone else. The run in with the Warriors of Darkness weighed on her mind, but more than that, being near Thancred again has put her mind in a whirl.

He’s different to the man he was; not just in appearance but in temperament as well. He’s broader across the shoulders and his hair is longer, and the bandanna that covers one eye is hard to miss. The muscles in his arms seem more defined and he even appears a bit… taller. He laughs less heartily but does manage to laugh. He speaks less, letting others monopolize the conversation while he listens. He drinks very little, and in the moments he lets his guard down there’s a severity to his expression. There are matters weighing him down.

But he smiles. Oh yes, he still smiles. And it’s the smile he gave her when he appeared as if sent by the Gods themselves that lingers in Phaedra’s mind. That smile… So soft. So affectionate. So… different. It set her whole body tingling to see it, and more so to recall it. He’s smiled at her before. Many times. A sarcastic grin here, a cheeky, flirtatious smirk there, all expressions he used on many to win their hearts and get his way. Never has he looked at her with such open warmth and sincerity. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever expect to see a gaze like that from him focus on her…

That, among other things, is what keeps her awake. Its what causes her to stir from her soft bed and rise, determined to find a way to distract her mind. She waits by her door listening for sound. It is dark outside the windows and she strains to hear.

Nothing.

Stepping out into the hall she is surprised to see him – Thancred - down the hall. He’s still in the same clothes he arrived in. He doesn’t look like he has slept yet, either. He looks as surprised to she her as she feels, yet neither of them make to move or speak. They are each caught in something invisible, yet tangible. Something so primal and instinctual it doesn’t have a name to call its own. Her gaze is locked with his, unable to look away or unwilling; she’s not sure. Her breath grows shorter and she can feel the constriction around her rib cage.

Phaedra parts her lips as if about to speak but her voice fades on her tongue. Thancred’s visible eye instantly went to the subtle movement of her mouth and she is sure he gulped on something. Without a word, she retreats back behind her bedroom door and to the sanctuary of her room. She leans on the door, body quivering inside and out while she chases shaky breath after shaky breath. Thancred has always been able to make her blush with a word but this is… different. This is… something entirely new.

She would be lying if she said she never thought about him in a more intimate sense. Lying to herself and to whatever Gods might have been looking in to say she never thought about him romantically. She would be lying to say his words never hit a mark, or that she never experienced a sense of longing. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that losing him after the banquet didn’t hurt the most. That after finding safety she spent the first few nights mourning his loss more than any other’s. Mourning him, and the thought of what might have been. What could have been. Mourning the loss of a love she wanted and yet was denied. First by duty as a Scion, then by Lahabrea, and then again by the machinations of the Syndicate.

There’s a knock that surprises her, and she turns to open the door on instinct. Thancred is on the other side, and he requests entry without uttering a single word. Phaedra steps back a little and he closes the door behind him. For what feels like an eternity they’re just staring at each other in silence. The intensity of… whatever is between them is more palpable now there is less space between them. Its like a string or cord has wrapped around them both and is urging them together. Phaedra breathes, her chest rising and falling on each measured inhale and exhale. She’s trying to give the air of calm. Of someone collected. She doesn’t want him to see the thud of her heart or – Gods – how much she wants him and has missed him. Missed his stupid face, and his stupid voice, and his stupid laugh.

And his smile. His stupid, foolish, wonderful smile.

Before she can register what is happening, he has crossed towards her in a few short strides and his mouth is on hers. She melts into him without hesitation and lifts her arms to burying her hands in his unkempt hair. She sweeps it away from his face, deepening the kiss and standing on her toes so he doesn’t have to strain so much. Thancred cradles her face just beneath her horns, stroking her skin and scales with a touch that is practiced but also hesitant. His breath shakes when he breaks away for a moment, adjusts the angle of his mouth and kisses her again.

They both know their friendship will never be the same after this.

Neither of them care.

Her fingers search for buckles and buttons and he slowly loses each item of clothing covering his top half. She relishes his skin beneath her hands. Hard muscle, soft, warm flesh, a few scars from altercations. He is marble and clay, hard but maliable. He is proud, strong, and for the moment, he is hers in a way she never dared to hope he would be.

Thancred’s kisses are practiced and sure. He leaves her mouth to kiss down her neck, burying his face into her skin and pausing to bite at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Phaedra barely conceals a gasp and digs her fingers into his bare shoulders for good measure; that earns a chuckle from low in his chest that vibrates all the way through her down to the tip of her tail. His fingers, certain of their task, make quick work of her clothing helping her shed each garment and leaving them to decorate the floor. He lifts her with ease, carries her across to the large bed and places her down upon the sheets his gaze locked on hers the entire time. She can see him well enough in the candlelight, the expression of certainty and determination on his face is uncharacteristic, but it fills her with a sense of anticipation she’s never experienced.

Phaedra shifts on the covers a little, leaning back on one hand while Thancred removes his boots, trousers and his small clothes with them. His cock is already hard, though he gives Phaedra little time to look before he climbs onto the bed with her, one knee positioned between her legs and claims her mouth again. She strokes her hands down his back mapping his shoulder blades and his spine, opening herself up to the larger size of him and the weight of him as he guides her to lie back.

He keeps most of his weight on his knees, careful not to crush her or crowd her and his hair tickles her nose and neck when he trails more white-hot kisses across her skin. It feels like his hands are everywhere at once, caressing her breasts, her back, her ass, her thighs and then between her legs. She lifts her hips when his fingers slide along her lower lips, probing and stroking while he tends to a nipple between his lips. She swallows loud enough that its audible. When Thancred chuckles, she knows he heard it, too. Weaving her fingers through his white hair she rolls her hips into the gentle wandering of his hand and fingers. He eases them inside her gently, exploring and learning and memorizing with every touch.

The rhythm his sets is slow to begin with as he lets her grow accustomed to the intrusion of his fingers. Slowly, he begins to spread her, slipping a third finger inside. Phaedra is sure she is soaking the sheets beneath them and attempts to close her legs to prevent leakage. Thancred stops and withdraws from her a little.

“Do you want to stop?”

She blinks rapidly up at him, eyes focusing in on the concern evident on his face and in his uncovered eye. Her breathing is harder and faster; she can’t remember when or why she closed her eyes in the first place.

Phaedra shakes her head several times. “I just don’t want to dirty the sheets…” Her cheeks, already hot, grow hotter when she realizes what a foolish thing to say that is. Thancred gives a breathless chuckle before he cradles her face again in one hand and brings himself in to kiss her. He kisses her deep and searing with heat, his damp fingers moving to card through the hair that has come loose from her ponytail.

“I missed you, too.” Pain prickles behind her nose and she forces it back with a smile.

Tbc or smth

#thancred #thancred waters #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #thancred x wol #phaedra mero #thancred x phaedra #writing #wip

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