Fanfiction: "Call You Up in the Middle of the Night" (Final Fantasy VIII)

Title: Call You Up in the Middle of the Night (4,829 words)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Rating/Warnings: Explicit / Explicit Sexual Content
Characters: Selphie Tilmitt, Doomtrain
Relationships: Selphie/Doomtrain
Summary: Selphie was ecstatic to discover that a train GF existed. She would soon also discover that his voice, his questions, and his very essence would take her to brand-new levels of ecstasy altogether.
Notes: Written for rarepairexchange. Selphie rides the train, in a very different sense of the word.

SFW excerpt

Selphie hung back as the others made their way to the entrance of Tears' Point, turning the ring in her fingers.  A train GF!  Who'd have thought such a thing existed!  What would it do when summoned against enemies?  Did it bring its own tracks, or did it just barrel through the air, knocking over anything in its path?  Did it have its own personality, and, if so, would it get along with the other GFs?  After spending weeks listening to Shiva groan and complain about Siren's saucy comments, she could do with a little peace and quiet in her brain.

"Only one way to find out," she said, and slipped the ring on her finger.  Though it had appeared far too large for her, the metal constricted to a perfect fit.  Immediately, the smell of rotting flesh filled her nostrils, and the steady clatter of train wheels on tracks drowned out her other thoughts.

Mmm.  A deep male voice growled, low and sensual,  igniting Selphie's nerves and sending sparks to her most sensitive areas.  Oh, yes.  One as fond of destruction as I am.

"What?"  Selphie asked, only partially out of confusion.  No matter what he said, she wanted to keep this GF talking; the timbre of his voice alone made her weak in the knees, in the best way possible.

Don't play ignorant, girl.  I sensed it the moment we connected.  You crave violence.

"I wouldn't say I crave it.  It's just…necessary in my line of work."

You enjoy that it is, though, don't you?  She could feel Doomtrain swirling through her mind, taking his time to reach the same destination as her other GFs.  You enjoy chaos, unpredictability.  Yes, you and I… Doomtrain sighed, and the sensation tingled through Selphie's body, just beneath her skin.  …we are so much alike.

"I don't really think so.  For one thing, you're a train."

I wasn't always.  My current form is a curse from a crafty king.

"A curse?"

I was a warrior, once.  Strong, masterful, ruthless.  I cut down friend and foe alike, should any stand in my way.  On the battlefield one day—

"Sefie!"  Irvine's voice jolted Selphie from her thoughts, and Doomtrain receded with a growl.  "What're you doing, just standing there?  C'mon, or you'll end up a Torama's afternoon snack!"

"Oh, please!" Selphie called back, thankful to find her voice steady.  If only she could say the same about her body.  Her hands trembled, her knees were soft, and a delicate ache throbbed between her legs.  All this from just a voice?  What a special GF, indeed!  "Like I can't handle a few monsters on my own.  You're confusing me with yourself, Irvy!"

She jogged to catch up to the others, Doomtrain still trailing through her brain.  She'd have to make time to listen to his story, and soon.

Very, very soon.

Fanfiction: "This Precious Time When Time is New"

Title: This Precious Time When Time is New (7,046 words)
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: The Blue Castle
Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up / Mild Sexual Content
Characters: Valancy Stirling, Barney Snaith
Relationships: Barney/Valancy
Summary: The first three days of Barney and Valancy's marriage, during which they find that no matter whether their love is "real", they are inexorably drawn toward one another, mind, heart, and body.
Notes: Written for rarepairexchange.

Fic excerpt

They walked through the door hand-in-hand, and in the moonlit darkness they were greeted almost immediately by a lithe little creature in a striped coat, who proceeded to sniff daintily at Valancy's ankles.

"Ah, Good Luck," Barney said, bending down and scooping the cat into his arms, "curious as ever. I suppose now is as good a time as any to make acquaintances. Lucky, I'd like you to meet my wife, the dear Valancy Snaith."

The word "wife" was enough to set Valancy's heart trembling, but hearing her full married name sent a shiver throughout her body. It was real; it hadn't all been a feverish dream. Old Mr. Towers in Port Lawrence, the little slanted mirror; driving through the darkened woods, the canoe, the kiss—it had all happened so quickly, so perfectly, that until that moment, Valancy feared she might wake up, not in her bed at Roaring Abel's house, but back in her own dreary room, the last few weeks nothing but the product of her overactive imagination.

She reached out and scratched Good Luck between his ears and he purred, wriggling and stretching until he had transferred himself from Barney's arms to hers. "What an adorable cat you are," she cooed at him, her words dissolving into a laugh as Good Luck craned his neck to press a cold little nose against her chin. "And friendly, too!"

"I always suspected he'd be, though he's never had a chance to warm to anyone but me. I dare say, he took to you far more quickly!" Barney leaned over and stroked Good Luck's head, and Valancy was struck at once by how familial the moment felt, though the thrill was quickly followed by a pang of regret at knowing that this was as close as she would come to anything resembling a family of her own.

"I take that to mean we made the right decision," Barney continued, glancing up at her with a smile. "You can always trust a cat's intuition."

Valancy nodded, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks under the intensity of Barney's gaze, tempered as it was by happiness, or relief. "You said you have another cat?" she managed to say.

"Banjo. He's around here somewhere. Not as forthcoming as Good Luck, but a fine creature, nonetheless." As if in response to his own name, a large gray cat poked his striped head over the back of a chair with a deep and lazy meow. "Ah, right there, I might've guessed. In his chair."

"His chair?" Good Luck had begun wriggling at the sound of Banjo's meow and Valancy bent to release him from her arms.

"Pretty much. Won't let me or Good Luck sit in it. You might try to, but I guarantee, he will sit and stare at you until you leave." Barney lit a lamp, bringing the rest of the cabin into colorful detail: the stone fireplace and the bearskin before it; an almost offensively red sofa draped with silver wolf skins; a little stove for cooking; and, against one wall, to Valancy's delight, a tall bookcase filled with books of all sizes and thickness. She wandered over to the shelf and ran her fingers along it, glancing at titles in passing.

"What a lovely little cabin," she said. "I've only been here a few minutes, and it already feels more like a home than did the house I've spent all my life in."

"It is cozy, and sound. I hope you don't mind the décor; almost all of it is old Tom MacMurray's."

"Even the sofa?"

"Especially the sofa." Barney brushed the red plush. "Don't know what got into his head with that one."