Femfeb - "Disaster"
Feb. 7th, 2019 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklightDay seven! I was almost not going to write anything despite that I had an idea I wanted to do, because I felt kinda bleh, but I'm very pleased with what I turned out nonetheless. c: Haruka/Usagi and we're going pretty firmly AU, not just canon divergence AU this time. It's both a fantasy AU and a Flower Maiden AU*.
(*Which means that one half of the pairing is going to sport a mark - a seed - on their body somewhere, from which, once a month, flowers will "grow" over the body, only buds at first, and bring with them a need to have sex with a woman; the flowers bloom at climax. Think of it as a sort of Heat/kind of A/B/O AU, with only two "sexes" involved. There's more, but it's not relevant for the AU or it's worldbuilding I don't actually want to include.)
It starts as a creeping tingle from her right shoulder, a warmth that turns her skin sensitive. Sensitive enough to leave the barest brushes of her clothes pleasurable, and then follow that pleasure with the ghostly forerunners of pain. Haruka grits her teeth and manages through the training, stubborn and furious; she refuses to let her body dictate for her.
She can't hold out forever though, and she skips the shower entirely, knowing what the water against her skin will feel like. Protective armour pieces are dropped, one after the other, and she can't quite concentrate enough to put them back where they belong. She leaves them. Leaves the arena, emptying of the rest of the royal guard who'd been practising along with her, and if only she could actually turn to any of them. Those men and women finding out would be even more of a disaster than this is turning out to be however, so Haruka walks (staggers) determinedly down corridors that even in their utilitarian shape are still delicately decorative.
She can't quite tell if the soreness is from exercise or the bloom, and more than that, she's sweaty, which is even worse at the moment. She can swear she can smell herself, like something newly-cut green being carried on a breeze. She is lucky her scent is not what most people would think of when it comes to 'flowers', lucky it's relatively easy to hide. Lucky the scent is further rather easily masked as suitably masculine.
Not that she actually had to pretend to be a man to join the Lunar Royal Guard, for it has many brave and capable women among its ranks; it was more about another layer of security, of secrecy. Men cannot be flower maidens, so even if she disappeared once a month, even if she always seemed to carry a freshly green scent to her, well, that was only the wind having caught in her hair, that was only because she was a healthy individual with needs, wasn't it?
Haruka's laugh is short, nearly a bark, and it bounces in wavering breathlessness against the walls of an empty corridor she knows will not bring relief. Neither of the two people who would usually be able to help her are on the Moon this week. They'd hoped that her bloom wouldn't be quite yet, that one of them would be back before it happened.
Not so, apparently.
"Well, isn't that--- Just typical." Haruka flinches at the raw softness in her own voice. Has to pause for a moment, hands fisting in the fabric of her pants. Can't help but rub both hands and fabric against her thighs, press her thighs against each other as the aching tingle down her arm turns into a warm, infuriating throb - as well as a stab of pain. She swallows the gasp, but thumps against the wall instead, missing the sound of approaching feet, the clatter of the heels nearly a thunder.
"Captain Uranus? Cap--- Haruka, are you alright?"
There's a hand, burning, light, soft and soothing all at once, on her cheek, fingertips just barely brushing against her skin, and the familiar voice rings with earnest concern. Her heart freezes, but when she opens her eyes, of course it wasn't a hallucination. Not with the way her cheek is lit up by the touch still, pain momentarily smoothed away. Princess Serenity stands before her, bent forward and her head tipped back to meet her gaze, the way she's folded nearly in on herself.
No.
No, she can't have her find out, even if, perhaps it's mostly only from selfish want to keep the princess' regard, her nearly shy attraction just as it is, a tension unrealized. Haruka fears losing that, if Serenity finds out the truth. But the princess, she knows, would never betray her secret. She cares, and she certainly does not care for the limitations flower maidens are put under, understandably or not. And her hands... would feel so good, on her hot skin. Haruka closes her eyes, exhales.
"I'm... fine, Your Highness. It's just a bit of a spell."
A spell, of course. A dizzy spell that makes her want to straighten up, press the slim body bent towards her up against the wall and rub herself against her, makes her want to beg for those hands on her, on her hips, her shoulders, her breasts, to ease the pleasure, the pain. She's dizzy with that, indeed.
"Do you need me to... No, no, come on! You need to sit down, Haruka!" Princess Serenity flutters about her, worry fairly radiating from her, then grabs her hand and tows her away. There is no way for Haruka to resist that tiny force of well-meaning, of delicate fingers around her wrist. The cuff of the jacket is in the way of feeling skin against skin, though, and she resents it deeply.
The door closes behind them, the sitting room only lit by a slanted afternoon sun not in view of the windows, the Moon caught in its long day. It's private enough, since this is, Haruka realizes with a slow, silent curse, part of the royal wing. Her body had apparently decided who it wanted to help relieve her bloom before her brain had been informed of the decision.
"Over here, Haru--ah!?" Serenity's startled cry is muffled by her own hand, clapped over her mouth, as she stares, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked up at the captain of the royal guard, who's pressed her up against the wall, arms on either side of her head.
"I need you to keep a secret, Usagi." Haruka's voice is a soft, rumbling rasp, breathless and warm, and Serenity's blush darkens and spreads, less so for the use of her personal name than the tone, the look. Not that hearing Haruka using her personal name isn't a gift, every time it happens, for both of them.
"Always! But what..."
Serenity trails off, her bright blue eyes somehow widening further when Haruka goes for her uniform jacket's buttons, fairly ripping them open in her haste, her aching, thrice-cursed need. The jacket is discarded, and the shirt follows, and she doesn't even need to say anything. She can see the second Serenity spots the issue, spots her secret (and she does not mean her breasts, now on display), and the hand pressed over Srenity's mouth is extended, a slight tremble to the fingers, to brush against the spread of elegantly curling stems down towards her elbow and up towards her neck, topped with as-yet closed yellow chrysanthemum buds.
"Oh."
Whether that sigh comes from her, or Serenity, is hard to tell, and maybe it doesn't matter. Haruka leans into the touch skating down her arm with a tremble, pushes her princess more firmly against the wall and finds a thigh among the floaty layers of nearly see-through, pearly fabric to press herself against, hips twitching just slightly.
"I need you," Haruka whispers, and with the way there's a dawning look of stunned awe, of shy pleasure on Usagi's face to be told that she is, in any way, needed for herself instead of always being the one protected, Haruka decides that maybe this disaster might yet turn out to be a blessing. Maybe this won't ruin anything at all.
She could probably be forgiven for hauling her Most Serene Royal Highness Princess Serenity up by her thighs and practically tossing her on the divan behind them, following her and pushing her skirts out of the way. By the laughing flush and shy hands that gently slap hers away to get to the fastening on her pants, she has certainly already been forgiven.
"I'll help you." Usagi's voice is a bare butterfly's wing in the room, carried on the fresh scent of blooming chrysanthemum.
(*Which means that one half of the pairing is going to sport a mark - a seed - on their body somewhere, from which, once a month, flowers will "grow" over the body, only buds at first, and bring with them a need to have sex with a woman; the flowers bloom at climax. Think of it as a sort of Heat/kind of A/B/O AU, with only two "sexes" involved. There's more, but it's not relevant for the AU or it's worldbuilding I don't actually want to include.)
It starts as a creeping tingle from her right shoulder, a warmth that turns her skin sensitive. Sensitive enough to leave the barest brushes of her clothes pleasurable, and then follow that pleasure with the ghostly forerunners of pain. Haruka grits her teeth and manages through the training, stubborn and furious; she refuses to let her body dictate for her.
She can't hold out forever though, and she skips the shower entirely, knowing what the water against her skin will feel like. Protective armour pieces are dropped, one after the other, and she can't quite concentrate enough to put them back where they belong. She leaves them. Leaves the arena, emptying of the rest of the royal guard who'd been practising along with her, and if only she could actually turn to any of them. Those men and women finding out would be even more of a disaster than this is turning out to be however, so Haruka walks (staggers) determinedly down corridors that even in their utilitarian shape are still delicately decorative.
She can't quite tell if the soreness is from exercise or the bloom, and more than that, she's sweaty, which is even worse at the moment. She can swear she can smell herself, like something newly-cut green being carried on a breeze. She is lucky her scent is not what most people would think of when it comes to 'flowers', lucky it's relatively easy to hide. Lucky the scent is further rather easily masked as suitably masculine.
Not that she actually had to pretend to be a man to join the Lunar Royal Guard, for it has many brave and capable women among its ranks; it was more about another layer of security, of secrecy. Men cannot be flower maidens, so even if she disappeared once a month, even if she always seemed to carry a freshly green scent to her, well, that was only the wind having caught in her hair, that was only because she was a healthy individual with needs, wasn't it?
Haruka's laugh is short, nearly a bark, and it bounces in wavering breathlessness against the walls of an empty corridor she knows will not bring relief. Neither of the two people who would usually be able to help her are on the Moon this week. They'd hoped that her bloom wouldn't be quite yet, that one of them would be back before it happened.
Not so, apparently.
"Well, isn't that--- Just typical." Haruka flinches at the raw softness in her own voice. Has to pause for a moment, hands fisting in the fabric of her pants. Can't help but rub both hands and fabric against her thighs, press her thighs against each other as the aching tingle down her arm turns into a warm, infuriating throb - as well as a stab of pain. She swallows the gasp, but thumps against the wall instead, missing the sound of approaching feet, the clatter of the heels nearly a thunder.
"Captain Uranus? Cap--- Haruka, are you alright?"
There's a hand, burning, light, soft and soothing all at once, on her cheek, fingertips just barely brushing against her skin, and the familiar voice rings with earnest concern. Her heart freezes, but when she opens her eyes, of course it wasn't a hallucination. Not with the way her cheek is lit up by the touch still, pain momentarily smoothed away. Princess Serenity stands before her, bent forward and her head tipped back to meet her gaze, the way she's folded nearly in on herself.
No.
No, she can't have her find out, even if, perhaps it's mostly only from selfish want to keep the princess' regard, her nearly shy attraction just as it is, a tension unrealized. Haruka fears losing that, if Serenity finds out the truth. But the princess, she knows, would never betray her secret. She cares, and she certainly does not care for the limitations flower maidens are put under, understandably or not. And her hands... would feel so good, on her hot skin. Haruka closes her eyes, exhales.
"I'm... fine, Your Highness. It's just a bit of a spell."
A spell, of course. A dizzy spell that makes her want to straighten up, press the slim body bent towards her up against the wall and rub herself against her, makes her want to beg for those hands on her, on her hips, her shoulders, her breasts, to ease the pleasure, the pain. She's dizzy with that, indeed.
"Do you need me to... No, no, come on! You need to sit down, Haruka!" Princess Serenity flutters about her, worry fairly radiating from her, then grabs her hand and tows her away. There is no way for Haruka to resist that tiny force of well-meaning, of delicate fingers around her wrist. The cuff of the jacket is in the way of feeling skin against skin, though, and she resents it deeply.
The door closes behind them, the sitting room only lit by a slanted afternoon sun not in view of the windows, the Moon caught in its long day. It's private enough, since this is, Haruka realizes with a slow, silent curse, part of the royal wing. Her body had apparently decided who it wanted to help relieve her bloom before her brain had been informed of the decision.
"Over here, Haru--ah!?" Serenity's startled cry is muffled by her own hand, clapped over her mouth, as she stares, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked up at the captain of the royal guard, who's pressed her up against the wall, arms on either side of her head.
"I need you to keep a secret, Usagi." Haruka's voice is a soft, rumbling rasp, breathless and warm, and Serenity's blush darkens and spreads, less so for the use of her personal name than the tone, the look. Not that hearing Haruka using her personal name isn't a gift, every time it happens, for both of them.
"Always! But what..."
Serenity trails off, her bright blue eyes somehow widening further when Haruka goes for her uniform jacket's buttons, fairly ripping them open in her haste, her aching, thrice-cursed need. The jacket is discarded, and the shirt follows, and she doesn't even need to say anything. She can see the second Serenity spots the issue, spots her secret (and she does not mean her breasts, now on display), and the hand pressed over Srenity's mouth is extended, a slight tremble to the fingers, to brush against the spread of elegantly curling stems down towards her elbow and up towards her neck, topped with as-yet closed yellow chrysanthemum buds.
"Oh."
Whether that sigh comes from her, or Serenity, is hard to tell, and maybe it doesn't matter. Haruka leans into the touch skating down her arm with a tremble, pushes her princess more firmly against the wall and finds a thigh among the floaty layers of nearly see-through, pearly fabric to press herself against, hips twitching just slightly.
"I need you," Haruka whispers, and with the way there's a dawning look of stunned awe, of shy pleasure on Usagi's face to be told that she is, in any way, needed for herself instead of always being the one protected, Haruka decides that maybe this disaster might yet turn out to be a blessing. Maybe this won't ruin anything at all.
She could probably be forgiven for hauling her Most Serene Royal Highness Princess Serenity up by her thighs and practically tossing her on the divan behind them, following her and pushing her skirts out of the way. By the laughing flush and shy hands that gently slap hers away to get to the fastening on her pants, she has certainly already been forgiven.
"I'll help you." Usagi's voice is a bare butterfly's wing in the room, carried on the fresh scent of blooming chrysanthemum.
