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keicordelle · 2 months

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Muddying the Waters

FFXIV | Thanuri | 1.7k | Explicit pre-relationship, pining, masturbation, fantasizing, switch Thancred

When Thancred showed up on Urianger's doorstep with the Oracle of Light in tow and half of Eulmore's forces on his tail, he did not expect a paragon of hotness to open the door. Blindsided by his old friend's new beauty, Thancred can't help but long for him - in all possible ways. Surely it won't hurt any to indulge himself alone, right? Urianger doesn't have to know.

A spicy solo-Thancred side story to A First for Everything! We haven't reached the explicit parts there yet, but that doesn't mean Thancred is being entirely chaste behind closed doors. He deserves a little chance to relieve himself, don't you think?

The dull thunk of Thancred’s head against copper seemed overly loud as he leaned against the edge of the tub, face tipped back to stare at the ceiling above him. Steam curled through the air, hot water swirling in gentle eddies around his skin. Twelve, how long had it been since he'd had a hot bath? Or any bath, frankly - being on the run from an enemy army didn't exactly leave one with abundant opportunity for hygiene. He'd have to remember to thank Urianger for the chance. Another gift in the ever-growing list of favors he'd never be able to repay, which Urianger seemed to invariably grant without question or hesitation. He was too good a person, truly.

He was also the source of all Thancred’s woes at the moment. A weary sigh dredged itself from his lungs, water spilling from his skin as he lifted his arm to drag a hand roughly through his hair. His mind spun, but for once it wasn't duty that made his thoughts run like rats through the dank alleys of Limsa. No, duty would have been a preferable distraction.

Instead, thoughts of Urianger filled his mind - as they had for every single waking moment since first he'd cracked open that door in that godsforsaken outfit, with those beautiful golden eyes full of warmth and kindness and those blasted arm bands snug around his bulging biceps. Thal's holy balls. Thancred let out another groan, thunking his head back against the tub again, as if it might somehow banish the thought of Urianger before his mind dragged itself into the gutter, where it had seemed fairly determined to set up camp these past few days.

Just when in the seven hells did Urianger get so hot? Twelve have mercy, Thancred couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way his fingers curled around the door frame, long and slender and graceful. About the deep V down his back, tanned skin and broad muscles on display when he turned. About the way the golden adornments glittered against his skin, digging lightly into his smooth flesh like fingers wrapped around his arms. A collar. He'd been wearing a godsforsaken collar, gilded and gorgeous on that long neck of his.

...About the way his robes hugged his ass, more plush than Thancred could ever have fathomed and just begging him to spread it apart and

Thancred’s breath caught, the water swirling around him as his body reacted to the image, his cock filling out to the thought of Urianger. Oh gods, this was wrong. Thancred wasn't generally one to quibble over the rights and wrongs of self-pleasure, but Urianger was his friend. Surely he would be bothered if he knew Thancred had stroked himself to the thought of him. What would Urianger do if he caught him like this, dick in his hand and his name on his lips? Urianger wasn't just some friendly acquaintance or nameless stranger destined to be forgotten. Thancred cared about him. That made it worse.

That made it better. Gods, he could hardly help himself. His hand crept down despite himself, teasing along the seam of his balls. Light fingers traced over the base of his dick, barely enough to be felt. Seven hells, it had been so long. And Urianger didn't have to know. It'd be fine, so long as he didn't find out, right?

Thancred’s breath gusted out of him as his palm grazed up his length. The familiar calloused grasp of his own hand seemed novel beneath the hot, swirling water. A light touch had his blood boiling, arousal sitting heavy in his balls as his dick stiffened to full attention. Again, a little firmer, thumb sweeping up over the head in the way he liked. He let his eyes drift closed, the image of Urianger awaiting him in the darkness behind his eyelids. Gods he was hot. The flex of his biceps when he spread out his divining deck. The delicious curves of his ass when he stooped for a book. The way the muscles of his back strained when he stretched for the upper shelf.

Pleasure feathered through Thancred’s nerves, slow and indulgent. That V down his back was positively sinful. Every time Thancred saw it, he just wanted to push that robe off his shoulders and let it fall from him. Would the chains at his waist keep it in place? Or would it fall free with one easy touch, leaving him bare and exposed? Thancred could run his tongue along the valley of his spine, tasting the sweat on his skin. Gods, Thancred bet he would be sensitive, shivering in embarrassment beneath his touch. Urianger’s cheeks looked so beautiful when they were dyed pink - surely the rest of him would look no less captivating with red spilling down his chest, staining the back of his neck, his ears. Thancred could take one of those ears in his mouth and watch as Urianger shuddered against him. Suck on it until he begged him for more.

Thancred’s hips jerked up, his body demanding more from him. He indulged it, wrapping his fist more firmly around his cock, pumping himself in earnest. Did Urianger ever masturbate like this? Once he would have struggled to imagine it, but now... Thancred could picture him, sitting here in the bath like this, those long scribe's fingers curled around his cock: long and thick and dark with need, dripping from the swollen head as he stroked himself, desperation painting itself across his face. Had he ever thought of Thancred while he did it? Had he sat here, picturing Thancred’s body naked before him while he rutted into his palm? Fuck...

His fingers tightened around his base, staving off the pleasure that swelled in his core. Not yet, he wasn't ready to give up this fantasy yet. Breath held, he waited until the sensation faded, fondling lightly at his own balls until he felt confident enough to wrap his hand around his dick once more. When he stroked up his cock, it wasn't his own hand in his mind's eye, but a gentler one, slender fingers free of rough callouses dragging tentatively up his length. Thancred slowed his hand, mirroring the fantasy. Light touches, awkward and novel. Still enough to make his breath catch. Gods, to imagine Urianger before him, his hand on his cock... That hesitant look on his face, watching Thancred to make sure he was doing well. His own dick hard between his legs, leaking onto the floor beneath him...

Or better still, Urianger’s mouth wrapped around him, tight and hot like the water that enveloped him. He'd tuck the messy fall of his hair behind his ear, looking up at Thancred as he sucked him down, his tongue clumsy along the underside of Thancred’s prick. Thancred’s thumb followed the motion. His hips bucked up of their own accord, rutting into the imagined squeeze of Urianger's throat, and he tightened his grip, fucking into his palm.

Would Urianger let him do more? Would he let Thancred lay him back and spread him open? Sink his fingers into his ass and fuck him on them until he was writhing, his hole stretched obscenely around his fingers and his lips parted around wordless moans? Thancred would press his cock into him, slow and gentle, and feel the way Urianger strained around him, his insides soft and tight on him. It would be a night Thancred would never forget, fucking into Urianger until he spasmed around him. Kissing him while he came. Spilling himself into Urianger’s ass, filling him up, his name on Thancred’s lips loud and unrepentant.

Or maybe Urianger would rather fuck him? Bend Thancred over in his bed and press him into the sheets, his cock thick and heavy in his ass. Carving his way through Thancred’s guts. Sweet nothings whispered into his ear, Urianger’s chest pressed into his back, easily dwarfing Thancred’s body with his own. Thancred’s free hand sank down between his legs, teasing at the rim of his hole. Too dry, even amidst all this water, but that was fine. Two fingers pressed deep, pumping into his ass in time with the hand on his cock. Fuck. Fuck, Urianger. Please...

He came with a strangled moan, remembering at the last moment not to call out Urianger’s name. Pleasure seared through him as he spilled himself into his hand, grip tight to keep from sullying the bath water. His dick throbbed in his grip, each pulse dragging aftershocks of pleasure along his frayed nerves. His breath sounded loud in his ears, panting heavier than he ought to. Thal's balls, that was... intense.

Before he could gather his wits, a knock at the door rescrambled his brains. "Thancred? Loath as I am to interrupt thy respite, the night grows long and I should like to wash up before I retire."

Oh gods. Had he heard? Please tell me he hadn't been standing there at the door while I came? Thancred struggled to get his breathing under control, wiping his sticky hand on the red-flushed skin of his chest. "I'll be right out, sorry!"

He dragged himself out of the tub onto weakened knees, fumbling for a towel to dry himself off. Urianger's response was lost beneath the shush of the towel against his hair and the too-quick thrum of his pulse in his ears. Gods, that had been - amazing. Intense. One small step short of mind blowing - a terrible idea. Even locked away in the bathroom, this house wasn't exactly private. The number of pixie-gifts left on his pillow should have proven that by now. Stars above, what if Urianger had walked in on him? Bad enough to have to face him knowing what he'd done, but if he'd found Thancred with his fingers up his ass and Urianger’s name choking from his tongue he'd never be able to look him in the eyes again.

Thal's balls. He could not do that again - any of it. Not jerking off in Urianger's house, and certainly not thinking about him while he did it. Urianger was his friend, that was all. His horribly, bewitchingly attractive friend. Thancred valued their relationship too much to fuck it up for a moment or three of pleasure. Even if the thought of Urianger spread out before him with his dick in his hand lingered all the more clearly in his mind now than before. Fuck.

And even if, as Thancred hurried out of the bathroom to his makeshift bed, all he could think about was Urianger getting ready for bed, sharing the same bath Thancred had just fucked himself in.

[Kofi/Commissions]

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #thanuri #urithan #thancred #thancred waters #urianger #urianger augurelt #ffxiv smut #my writing #first for everything #~k

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ainyan · 5 months

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After the Melee (Woven Souls Snippet)

“Well, that made for a refreshing change. Congratulations on your victory, by the way.” Kal’istae turned to meet Thancred’s single dark eye. He was clutching his side, one dagger sheathed, the other dangling from his hand. As she watched, he straightened with a pained grunt and scrubbed his blade off, then slid it home at his waist. “The Ishgardians certainly seem happy with themselves. I, for my part, am merely glad you did not strain anything in the process of single-handedly winning the battle for them.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I was hardly alone out there,” she muttered, grounding the butt of her lance in the snow as she looked him over thoughtfully. “Aymeric and the others put up their fair amount of fight.” She watched as he touched his side again. “Thancred, please, let me take a look at that.”

Even as she lifted her lance, preparing to send it off into the aether in exchange for her white mage’s cane, he reached out to touch her arm, stopping her. “‘Tis but a scratch, I assure you. And I will not suffer you to worry over me - not when we have a dozen far more important concerns.”

With an exasperated sigh, she lowered her arm again. “I disagree that I have any more important concerns, but if you’re certain,” she said dubiously, her eyes lingering on his with worry. “But pray, do not be brave for me. I am the last person for whom you need grandstand.”

He might have made some response, but a glint of yellow and black told him that Pipin and Raubahn were both approaching, crunching their way through the snow directly towards them. He sighed, closing his eye briefly. “...Make that two dozen. Still, as Y'shtola never tires of telling me, we can but face them head-on, one at a time.” His eye went distant. “One day at a time… as Minfilia would have done.”

“Thancred,” she whispered, and he rubbed his breastbone, his gaze focusing on her for one brief moment, then he turned and walked off without a word, leaving her alone to face the two approaching leaders.

“Thal's balls…” Raubahn pronounced as he and Pipin reached her. “I had forgotten what it was like to feel so alive!” Kal’istae looked amused, tilting her head back to look into his fiercely grinning face. “Not since leaving the Bloodsands have I had the privilege. Not since the Bull of Ala Mhigo hung up his swords.”

Kal’istae’s return smile was wry. “Privilege, is it?” she asked.

Raubahn snorted. “The Warrior of Light! Back then, the outcome might have been different. But I do not begrudge you your victory. I know how far you have come, how much you have endured. Our fight only confirmed it.”

She inclined her head. “And a hard-won fight it was,” she said diplomatically, though in truth it had been nothing of the kind. Still, she saw no reason to be unkind.

Raubahn nodded in firm agreement. “We shall have to do this again one day, when time allows. I shall look forward to it. Now go. Go to the Ishgardians and celebrate your victory. You have earned it.” He glanced down at his son. “Come, Pipin. Her Grace is expecting us.”

Pipin grinned. “Lead on, Father!” As the burly highlander turned away, however, his son paused, peering up at Kal’istae. “Thank you, Warrior of Light. My father has not been feeling himself, not since the events of the Bloody Banquet. Thank you for showing him that even one-armed, he is still the equal of any warrior but the Warrior of Light.”

Her expression grew soft. “That he is. I look forward to trying his mettle again someday.”

The lalafell smiled and swept her a courtly bow. “I look forward to seeing that match. Farewell, my lady.”

She remained standing in the snow as he darted off after his adoptive father, catching up easily to the hulking hyur as they crossed towards the tower where Nanamo awaited her champions. “Said your good-byes?”

She didn’t turn as Thancred came up behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him against the back of her neck. “I am glad to see that Raubahn does not resent my showing him up in the melee,” she replied.

Thancred’s lips twitched. “In all the years I have known Raubahn, I cannot recall ever seeing him look so happy in defeat.” As she lifted her head to study his face, he looked down, meeting her gaze. “Though I dare say defeat to you might well look like victory to anyone else, especially holding out as long as he did.”

Grimacing, she turned her head away. “I hate it when you say things like that.”

He sighed. “Why hide from the truth, Kal’istae?” he asked gently. “It is not your fault that you are the most powerful warrior of this - and possibly any - generation to date. ‘Tis a blessing, not a curse; see it as such.”

“I don’t like being different,” she muttered. “I just want to be like everyone else.”

Didn’t he know it? She was not the only one who felt that way; every Scion had, at one point or another, felt woefully out of place compared to those around them. Reaching up, he laid his hand on her head and she stiffened, then deliberately relaxed. “You are you, Kali, and beloved for it.”

“Beloved as myself, or as the Warrior of Light?” she asked morosely.

She didn’t mean it to be an opening, but damned if he wouldn’t take it anyway. “I can speak only for myself,” he murmured, and she looked at him sharply. “But I couldn’t give a hang about the Warrior of Light. Only you, Kal’istae. Only you.”

Their eyes held for a long, humming moment, then she looked away with a gasp. “Thancred,” she began, but a crunch of snow alerted them both and he dropped his hand away even as Aymeric came into sight.

“My lady!” he exclaimed, then came up short to see Thancred with her. Elezen and hyur stared at each other for a long moment, then the Knight Commander coughed and busied himself with his errand. “Glad am I to have found you. I wished to convey my deepest gratitude to you, for without your formidable presence upon the field, I scarce believe we would have won the day.”

Thancred gritted his teeth as Kal’istae’s shoulders fell slightly; Aymeric may not have noticed, but he certainly did. “I do not believe that for an instant,” she said with false gaiety. “Ishgard’s forces were certainly the equal of those fielded by the Eorzeans. Truly, you have made an excellent case for yourself on why they should accept you once more amongst their ranks, even without me.”

Aymeric’s smile was warmer than strictly necessary. “I would never argue with a lady,” he said, though his tone suggested he wanted to. “But still, accept my thanks. I am to meet with the leaders of the Alliance, but I hope you will join us this evening for dinner. You and your… companions.” His eyes flickered briefly to Thancred, momentarily disquiet, but as his gaze turned back to Kal’istae, it was all hopeful smiles.

What could she say? “Of course,” Kal’istae murmured. “I will speak with the other Scions, and I am certain they will wish to join as well. You honor us with the invitation.”

Aymeric waved off her words. “Believe me, my friend, the honor is all ours. This evening, then.” He cast one last, brief glance at Thancred, then turned and strode away towards where the leaders of the Eorzean Alliance awaited their Ishgardian counterpart.

“Kali,” Thancred began as soon as he was out of earshot, but she gave a quick, sharp shake of her head. He sighed. “Well! Everything seems to be falling into place, does it not? The Ishgardians have claimed their symbolic victory, and the Eorzean Alliance has been strengthened in the process.” Grateful, she turned to gaze up at him. “Be proud, Kal’istae. You made this happen.”

She shook her head. “We made this happen, my friend,” she murmured, and he smiled wryly.

“Very well,” he agreed. “We made this happen. And now we should be heading out of the cold. Maybe you don’t feel it, but believe me when I say that this outfit is better suited a lowlands gentleman than a highlands one.”

She chuckled. “I’d wondered when you’d admit it,” she murmured, and he wrinkled his nose at her. “Come. Let us get out of the cold, and tend to your wounds. We have, it seems, a party to attend this evening.”

“Oh joy,” came Thancred’s droll response, and they started off towards Ishgard to the welcome sound of her laughter, her worries left behind with the churned up snow.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #kal'istae miurani #thancred waters #kalicred #au: woven souls

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