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fembuckPic #1
Title: No Words
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not, have never, and will never own the characters of Sydney Bristow, Nadia Santos, Michael Vaughn, Jack Bristow, Irina Derevko, Arvin Sloane or any other characters whose names you recognize.
Pairing: Sydney/Nadia
**************************************************
I held her hand firmly in mine as we started towards the exit that would bring us back to headquarters. She had taken my hand into hers after we hugged in the parking garage and hadn’t let it go since. She had been quiet for the entire ride, shivering, and I was glad to feel the warmth from her hand and the occasional pressure of her fingers squeezing mine, assuring me that she was back and real.
The level of the garage we were on was deserted, the only people who used it being APO personnel. She stopped walking suddenly, our joined hands jerking me to a stop as well. When I looked back at her, her eyes were on a small alcove created by two closely placed cement columns. The space was heavily shadowed and I wondered what she was looking at before she turned her eyes on me and I returned my full attention to her.
She seemed to be struggling to say something, looking as if she were going to cry so I cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb along her smooth skin.
“What is it?” I asked searching her face. I felt light-headed and somewhat shaky though I knew I wasn’t actually shaking. I had been feeling off balance since I had freed her from the trunk. Anger had produced an unnatural calm in me after she was taken, but once I had her in my arms, all of the ways everything could have gone wrong and stopped me from ever holding her like that again had washed over me. My eyes burned and I felt vaguely nauseated.
I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to comfort me.
“I’m not ready.” Her voice was barely audible. I stared at her for a moment as she stood with her arms crossed. I knew what she meant and looked towards the door we had been heading for. She didn’t want to go in there yet, didn’t want to face the questions or the pity yet; she wasn’t ready to comfort other people and tell them she was all right, when she clearly wasn’t. She just … wasn’t ready.
My hand slipped from her face, trailing down her arm before I wrapped it around her waist drawing her into a hug. She melted into my body, turning her face into my neck so that I could feel the warm tickle of her breath on my neck. I dropped my head down, mirroring her position, aware of the salty taste of her skin against my lips, almost licking out to taste more until I realized what it was I was about to do.
My eyes drifted to the alcove a meter away from us. I felt exposed in the gray vastness of the parking garage. It was far too open for so intimate a moment. I was torn for a moment, not wanting to move but needing to get out of the open. Decided, I carefully maneuvered us towards the shadowed space.
I felt her hand move against my back, and she pressed herself closer to me, almost clinging.
“I need you.”
The words were whispered against my neck, her moving lips tickling my skin as her hand moved in small, hypnotic circles on my back. I hesitated for a moment, and then tilted my head to the side and kissed her forehead.
“I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
I felt her smile against my skin, but the sound that she made in her throat was sad, almost pained. Pulling back from her reluctantly, I took her face in my hands, somewhat surprised by how clearly I could see her given the darkness of our niche.
“What can I do?”
She averted her eyes from mine as I gazed at her, she looked almost ashamed and I wondered what she could possibly want from me that would inspire such an expression.
Absently, as I waited for her to answer, I found myself stroking her cheek with my thumb once more. After a few seconds she turned her head into the touch, her eyes closing as her lips parted slightly. She sighed softly and a moment later tilted her head down and pressed her lips to my wrist.
“I … need you.”
I thought I understood then what she meant, as her body trembled slightly and her lips pressed against my wrist once more.
The contact between us, it wasn’t enough.
I found myself sinking to my knees, only becoming aware of the action when her lips left my skin as my arm moved away from her with my descent. I wrapped my arms around her waist immediately and pressed my face into her stomach, breathing in deeply, fighting back tears.
I needed her too.
“I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you.”
My lips pressed against the cotton of her tank top after I spoke, but it wasn’t enough. I loosened my hold on her, allowing one of hands to move to her front, lifting the tank top enough so that I could press my lips against the skin of her stomach. The intoxicating taste entering my mouth again. This time I didn’t stop myself when the urge to taste her again became strong, and she sighed softly as my tongue glided along the flat expanse of her abdomen.
I clutched at her back as my tongue dipped down beneath the waist of her jeans. Her hips jerked alarming me for a moment, so lost had I gotten sampling her skin.
“Sydney.”
I felt the smooth coldness of the cement column against the back of my hand as she leaned against it heavily. I lowered my hand so that it was no longer trapped between her hand and the column, running it down over her ass stopping at the top of her thigh.
Her hand came down and covered the one I had resting on her hip, the sudden contact making my hand twitch. I lifted my face from her stomach, looking up at her as she gazed down at me. There were no more tears in her dark eyes, only an almost fathomless longing.
“Please.”
It was her hand that twitched against mine then, almost as if she was trying to stop herself from physically moving my hand where she needed it. I stared up at her for a moment, suddenly wondering if she was asking for what I thought she was. Everything had seemed so organic to this point, I hadn’t thought about it, about what I was doing. My actions had been completely instinctual; the need for comfort and contact, to feel her skin and her warmth and know that she was there, and safe. But, it suddenly seemed insane to me, my kneeling in front of her like a lover, wanting to … thinking that she needed me, that she wanted me to … and actually, seriously considering it.
Her hand grasped mine, sliding it down. I focused on her eyes again at the movement. I could see some worry in her eyes, but also a burning need. When her hand fell away from mine I realized that I was cupping her. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt the warmth permeating from her cover my hand. Her breathing deepened, and I pressed my lips to her stomach again.
I thought about the look she had given me, the worry and before that the shame in gaze but also the burning need. She was my sister, and even as I kissed her stomach once more I knew that I shouldn’t. I was no longer unaware of my actions, of what they symbolized, of what they were leading to. I shouldn’t have been touching her like that; it was no longer innocent and comforting, but desperate and full of desire. And she knew we shouldn’t as well, but she still, despite the fear and shame, she still moved my hand, she still wanted it … me, needed me … and I her.
I pressed my fingers against the seam of her jeans. Her hips jerked and she gasped. I turned my head to the side, resting the side of my face against her stomach, feeling it rise and fall ever more quickly as I continued to rub my fingers against her.
The small space we occupied was full with the sound of her ragged breaths and soft cries. The hand I had on the top of her thigh dropped down so that I was grasping her leg just above the knee, steadying myself and providing leverage to push more forcefully against her.
I toyed with the idea of undoing her jeans as I ground my knuckles into the seam, pressing the hard material into her, against her, causing it to rub harshly against her most sensitive flesh. I wanted to touch the heat I felt through her pants. I wanted to breath in her scent, and taste her. I wanted to rub my cheek against her, covering myself in her.
I wanted to, but I didn’t need to. She was close, I could tell from her breathing and the quick thrusting motions of her hips. She didn’t need art from me, just to be with her, just to keep on touching her.
I heard her head bang dully against the column behind her and then she drew in one last deep breath before panting it out, her hips pressing into my hand as she came quietly but forcefully, her eyes screwed shut as she bucked against me.
And then she was sagging against the cool column, her eyes still closed as her head dropped down so that her chin was resting against her chest, obscuring her face in a curtain of dark hair.
Slowly I rose, wrapping my arms around her waist once more, pulling her away from the column and tugging her into my body.
I would hold her up.
She loosely wrapped her arms around me, tightening them as her breathing returned to normal, her lips pressed against the material of my shirt just above my heart. We held each other like that for a long time as her breathing steadied and then she tilted her head up, her lips parting as if she were going to speak. But she didn’t. She simply looked at me, searching my face and I knew why. I smiled and smoothed some hair off of her forehead. She dropped her head back down onto my shoulder and sighed.
There were no words.
The End
Twincest isBest Hot
made by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fembuck
Title: No Words
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not, have never, and will never own the characters of Sydney Bristow, Nadia Santos, Michael Vaughn, Jack Bristow, Irina Derevko, Arvin Sloane or any other characters whose names you recognize.
Pairing: Sydney/Nadia
I held her hand firmly in mine as we started towards the exit that would bring us back to headquarters. She had taken my hand into hers after we hugged in the parking garage and hadn’t let it go since. She had been quiet for the entire ride, shivering, and I was glad to feel the warmth from her hand and the occasional pressure of her fingers squeezing mine, assuring me that she was back and real.
The level of the garage we were on was deserted, the only people who used it being APO personnel. She stopped walking suddenly, our joined hands jerking me to a stop as well. When I looked back at her, her eyes were on a small alcove created by two closely placed cement columns. The space was heavily shadowed and I wondered what she was looking at before she turned her eyes on me and I returned my full attention to her.
She seemed to be struggling to say something, looking as if she were going to cry so I cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb along her smooth skin.
“What is it?” I asked searching her face. I felt light-headed and somewhat shaky though I knew I wasn’t actually shaking. I had been feeling off balance since I had freed her from the trunk. Anger had produced an unnatural calm in me after she was taken, but once I had her in my arms, all of the ways everything could have gone wrong and stopped me from ever holding her like that again had washed over me. My eyes burned and I felt vaguely nauseated.
I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to comfort me.
“I’m not ready.” Her voice was barely audible. I stared at her for a moment as she stood with her arms crossed. I knew what she meant and looked towards the door we had been heading for. She didn’t want to go in there yet, didn’t want to face the questions or the pity yet; she wasn’t ready to comfort other people and tell them she was all right, when she clearly wasn’t. She just … wasn’t ready.
My hand slipped from her face, trailing down her arm before I wrapped it around her waist drawing her into a hug. She melted into my body, turning her face into my neck so that I could feel the warm tickle of her breath on my neck. I dropped my head down, mirroring her position, aware of the salty taste of her skin against my lips, almost licking out to taste more until I realized what it was I was about to do.
My eyes drifted to the alcove a meter away from us. I felt exposed in the gray vastness of the parking garage. It was far too open for so intimate a moment. I was torn for a moment, not wanting to move but needing to get out of the open. Decided, I carefully maneuvered us towards the shadowed space.
I felt her hand move against my back, and she pressed herself closer to me, almost clinging.
“I need you.”
The words were whispered against my neck, her moving lips tickling my skin as her hand moved in small, hypnotic circles on my back. I hesitated for a moment, and then tilted my head to the side and kissed her forehead.
“I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
I felt her smile against my skin, but the sound that she made in her throat was sad, almost pained. Pulling back from her reluctantly, I took her face in my hands, somewhat surprised by how clearly I could see her given the darkness of our niche.
“What can I do?”
She averted her eyes from mine as I gazed at her, she looked almost ashamed and I wondered what she could possibly want from me that would inspire such an expression.
Absently, as I waited for her to answer, I found myself stroking her cheek with my thumb once more. After a few seconds she turned her head into the touch, her eyes closing as her lips parted slightly. She sighed softly and a moment later tilted her head down and pressed her lips to my wrist.
“I … need you.”
I thought I understood then what she meant, as her body trembled slightly and her lips pressed against my wrist once more.
The contact between us, it wasn’t enough.
I found myself sinking to my knees, only becoming aware of the action when her lips left my skin as my arm moved away from her with my descent. I wrapped my arms around her waist immediately and pressed my face into her stomach, breathing in deeply, fighting back tears.
I needed her too.
“I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you.”
My lips pressed against the cotton of her tank top after I spoke, but it wasn’t enough. I loosened my hold on her, allowing one of hands to move to her front, lifting the tank top enough so that I could press my lips against the skin of her stomach. The intoxicating taste entering my mouth again. This time I didn’t stop myself when the urge to taste her again became strong, and she sighed softly as my tongue glided along the flat expanse of her abdomen.
I clutched at her back as my tongue dipped down beneath the waist of her jeans. Her hips jerked alarming me for a moment, so lost had I gotten sampling her skin.
“Sydney.”
I felt the smooth coldness of the cement column against the back of my hand as she leaned against it heavily. I lowered my hand so that it was no longer trapped between her hand and the column, running it down over her ass stopping at the top of her thigh.
Her hand came down and covered the one I had resting on her hip, the sudden contact making my hand twitch. I lifted my face from her stomach, looking up at her as she gazed down at me. There were no more tears in her dark eyes, only an almost fathomless longing.
“Please.”
It was her hand that twitched against mine then, almost as if she was trying to stop herself from physically moving my hand where she needed it. I stared up at her for a moment, suddenly wondering if she was asking for what I thought she was. Everything had seemed so organic to this point, I hadn’t thought about it, about what I was doing. My actions had been completely instinctual; the need for comfort and contact, to feel her skin and her warmth and know that she was there, and safe. But, it suddenly seemed insane to me, my kneeling in front of her like a lover, wanting to … thinking that she needed me, that she wanted me to … and actually, seriously considering it.
Her hand grasped mine, sliding it down. I focused on her eyes again at the movement. I could see some worry in her eyes, but also a burning need. When her hand fell away from mine I realized that I was cupping her. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt the warmth permeating from her cover my hand. Her breathing deepened, and I pressed my lips to her stomach again.
I thought about the look she had given me, the worry and before that the shame in gaze but also the burning need. She was my sister, and even as I kissed her stomach once more I knew that I shouldn’t. I was no longer unaware of my actions, of what they symbolized, of what they were leading to. I shouldn’t have been touching her like that; it was no longer innocent and comforting, but desperate and full of desire. And she knew we shouldn’t as well, but she still, despite the fear and shame, she still moved my hand, she still wanted it … me, needed me … and I her.
I pressed my fingers against the seam of her jeans. Her hips jerked and she gasped. I turned my head to the side, resting the side of my face against her stomach, feeling it rise and fall ever more quickly as I continued to rub my fingers against her.
The small space we occupied was full with the sound of her ragged breaths and soft cries. The hand I had on the top of her thigh dropped down so that I was grasping her leg just above the knee, steadying myself and providing leverage to push more forcefully against her.
I toyed with the idea of undoing her jeans as I ground my knuckles into the seam, pressing the hard material into her, against her, causing it to rub harshly against her most sensitive flesh. I wanted to touch the heat I felt through her pants. I wanted to breath in her scent, and taste her. I wanted to rub my cheek against her, covering myself in her.
I wanted to, but I didn’t need to. She was close, I could tell from her breathing and the quick thrusting motions of her hips. She didn’t need art from me, just to be with her, just to keep on touching her.
I heard her head bang dully against the column behind her and then she drew in one last deep breath before panting it out, her hips pressing into my hand as she came quietly but forcefully, her eyes screwed shut as she bucked against me.
And then she was sagging against the cool column, her eyes still closed as her head dropped down so that her chin was resting against her chest, obscuring her face in a curtain of dark hair.
Slowly I rose, wrapping my arms around her waist once more, pulling her away from the column and tugging her into my body.
I would hold her up.
She loosely wrapped her arms around me, tightening them as her breathing returned to normal, her lips pressed against the material of my shirt just above my heart. We held each other like that for a long time as her breathing steadied and then she tilted her head up, her lips parting as if she were going to speak. But she didn’t. She simply looked at me, searching my face and I knew why. I smiled and smoothed some hair off of her forehead. She dropped her head back down onto my shoulder and sighed.
There were no words.
The End
Twincest is
made by
fembuck
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 04:06 am (UTC)So..... BEAUTIFUL!!!
Is it wrong that I just had this thought: "I wish I had a sister like Sydney..."
LOL *dies*
no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 10:03 pm (UTC)Awwww, thanks so much. You make me feel like the belle of the ball. Or like Fleur Delacour, you know, whenever!
Is it wrong that I just had this thought: "I wish I had a sister like Sydney..."
If it's wrong then I don't want to be right! Sydney is best big sister ever ... um, among other things
*Shifty gaze. Nothing to see here, move it along*