
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/780783.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Other, F/F
  Fandom:
      Skulduggery_Pleasant_-_Derek_Landy
  Relationship:
      Valkyrie_Cain/The_Reflection
  Character:
      Valkyrie_Cain, Valkyrie's_Reflection
  Additional Tags:
      selfcest, Sleep-sex, PWP, Fingering, pre-Darquesse, POV_Third_Person
      Omniscient, No_Dialogue, not_very_shippy
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-01 Words: 500
****** Reflected ******
by iphis18
Summary
     The Reflection has gained some independence, recently. She can get
     out of the mirror on her own, at least.
     She does, sometimes. Because she wants to.
Notes
     Written on the nineteenth day of February in the year 2011.
     Edited on the first day of May in the year 2013.
The Reflection has gained some independence, recently. She can get out of the
mirror on her own, at least.
She does, sometimes. Because she wants to.
---
These days, Valkyrie sleeps in her own bed. She keeps normal hours - the normal
of a person who has given up on being integrated with society, at least.
Tumbles into bed in the early mornings and doesn't leave it until the sun's
zenith is just a memory.
She thrashes in her sleep, muscles remembering. Sometime it's battles, and
sometimes it isn't. Not quite.
Sometimes it's kisses. With Fletcher, her boyfriend, warm and comforting, or at
least that's what she supposes they should be. They've gotten dull over time,
though, and she doesn't really recall those when she's thrashing around,
rubbing every inch of available flesh against the bedsheets, trying to create
the recalled friction.
When she does, it's Caelan, rough embraces pressed against trees, or perhaps
Tanith, sweaty and hot and impossibly fitting, or even Skulduggery, the cool of
bone against her lips and the feeling of dexterous fingers on her skin.
That's usually when the Reflection finds it in herself to slip out.
---
The moment her glassy-cold fingers touch against Valkyrie's face, the sleeping
girl calms, some quiet part of her subconscious waking to take control of her
body. It is only when the Reflection reaches under the sheets to adjust
Valkyrie's clothing, to straighten the twisted fabric, that Valkyrie will open
her eyes.
The Reflection will pretend not to notice. She'll perch herself on the bed, and
she'll start to rearrange Valkyrie's hair.
Valkyrie's arms will clamp around the Reflection's neck, and Valkyrie will
twist upwards to press herself against the Reflection.
Valkyrie will arch her head back and moan as the Reflection breaks off the kiss
and lets her left hand slide under Valkyrie's shirt to fondle Valkyrie's
breasts, while her right slips downwards. Sometimes there's a layer of clothing
between her hand and Valkyrie's skin. Not often.
Valkyrie's mouth will be reclaimed by the Reflection's own, once the stroking
hands have found a rhythm. When the Reflection judges that there is an
appropriate amount of natural lubrication, two fingers curl inwards and
delicately press.
Valkyrie's hymen is long broken, from all the fighting, likely as not. All that
running around. Two fingers are hardly anything, in the end.
The Reflection will find the right spot, of course, exactly the right spot.
She'll find it, and she'll be merciless.
Valkyrie's moans will stop, and it will be all she can do to keep breathing as
she shakes, shuddering uncontrollably, and then she will still, and it will be
over.
The Reflection will remove herself at this stage, retire to the mirror, and
Valkyrie will fall asleep. When she wakes, the part of herself that was in
control will be absorbed once more into her subconscious, and the memories will
be only vague.
She'll dismiss them as fantasy, and that will be the end of it - until the next
night, at least.
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