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Third Eye	By : mayofish Category: Final Fantasy XIV > Het - Male/Female Views: 1348 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV or its characters. I will make no money off of my midget porn.

Chapter List
- 1-Third Eye
- 1
I have no idea what Garlean third eyes do but what if they can project memories or thoughts into the mind of whoever is touching it. Kind of like the Echo. What if I manage to make something completely innocent into something dirty. I'm good at that.

Yda and Papalymo had a ritual on slow nights, no matter where they were. Papalymo always had a tome that needed studying but Yda always wants to be involved somehow. So they make a compromise after they've changed into their sleeping clothes and Yda has tossed her mask and bandanna somewhere (he can't understand how she manages to find anything when she is so careless like that). Papalymo finds himself curled up in Yda's lap with his full attention on his notes. Yda leans over him, their foreheads usually pushed together. She will usually read along with him silently, or more often, fall asleep. Papalymo does not mind so long as she let's him be.
But tonight, Yda is distracted. Her mind is racing and busy. She tries to concentrate on the words on the volume Papalymo has in his lap but all she can focus on is him. Papalymo smells like ink and pine needles. He smells like the Twelveswood and Yda realizes she misses it — so much better than the endless deserts she's used to. His hair is fresh and still slightly damp from his bath and she wants to play with it, run her hands through it. Pull it. She can see him lick his finger as he turns a page and his lips glisten in the lamplight. She wants to kiss him — bite his lips until they bleed. Tonight, Papalymo is driving her insane. She lets her eyes fall shut and her mind wander.
Yda likes Papalymo. A lot. Not in a way that she could really explain to anyone but their relationship was the perfect storm. She never really wanted to date or get married, even now, but she loves the closeness he allows. She wants to intertwine their fingers but she holds back. Papalymo doesn't like it when she distracts him.
There is a warmness in her and she shifts ever so slightly. Their heads are still pressed together and she opens her eyes to glance at him. He shifts with her to compensate but his attention stays glued to the tome. Yda doesn't even know what it's about and she can't find it in her to figure it out. The writing is faded and in a dialect she doesn't care to decipher. He has one hand on the book and the other brushes against Yda's leg. Just the tips of his fingers in a silent rhythm. She closes her eyes again, hoping to fall asleep and ignore her suddenly rapid heartbeat.
She wonders if he ever thinks of her like she thinks of him — Yda is usually the one to initiate things between them but for once she wants Papalymo to take control. She knows there is a swiftness in him and an anger that he often saves for their spars and fighting. She lets him see all of her; she wishes he wouldn't hide parts of him. He could take control of her and she wouldn't stop it. His hands holding her down, teeth meeting skin in a way that leaves her panting. Maybe he just needs a push one of these days. Yda would love to see Papalymo snap.
And Twelve only knows what he could do with that magic. She gets lightheaded.
He should leave his gauntlets on — the rough chain mail catching her skin. One hand over her mouth and another pulling at her nipple. Papalymo didn't like it when she was too loud. But Yda is always too loud. He lets the cold steel dance on her skin and she shudders. His hand over her mouth leaves as he ducks down to fit between her legs. He is sharp and quick. Papalymo is always so careful but Yda won't break. He leaves bruises where no one could see but just once maybe he would slip up, dig his teeth into her neck to stifle his own moans. The purple would bleed into the tattoos like she always does to him and they would be even.
“Y-Y-Yda...?” Papalymo's voice is stained and it draws her away from her thoughts. Yda opens her eyes to see his face is bright red and he looks absolutely mortified. She narrows her eyes at him and leans back slightly.
“Are you alright?” she asks, confused.
He clears his throat and looks away from her, “Y-y-your third eye...” he mumbles.
Yda's face falls in horror. The Garlean third eye. Used to help project ideas and covey messages without the need to speak. She had been telepathically putting all of her thoughts into Papalymo's head the whole time.
- 1
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Third Eye