Porn Battle XI fills (part 4)
It’s Porn Battle XI time and I wrote porn. Go figure. ;)
None of these were beta’ed. I don’t own ANYONE in these ficlets, which is a shame. Everyone here is an adult and engaging in very consensual and very not kid safe activities. You know how I like to write it at this point. Last post for this round, I promise. The prior would've been last, but DW allows longer posts than LJ does. :D
"A Machine At Heart." Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Cameron/Derek Reese, need
"What have you done to him?" Derek Reese asked, voice harsh. "He shouldn't come to your rescue. You're a machine!"
Cameron turned her dark eyes onto him, expression as placid as always. "I realize this. I have told him that I'm not the important one, that he has to do what needs to be done. He has to survive Judgment Day."
Derek pushed her against the wall, teeth bared in anger. They were the only two in the house at the moment, and he knew that it would stay that way for a while yet. "You say that, but I don't think you mean it. I think you're just a machine, programmed to gain his trust. You aren't helping him."
"He would have died already if not for me."
"John doesn't need you," Derek hissed at her. "You're not real. You're just programming."
Cameron struggled in his grip; she didn't want to break him. That would make John upset, and she couldn't have that. "I'm real. This is not programming."
"Of course it is," Derek scoffed. "You don't need anything."
"Yes, I do," she said. Before he could ask what that was, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth, her lips parted.
Blood rushing in his ears, Derek responded to the kiss before he could stop himself. When his mind caught up to what his body was doing, he nearly pulled back and stopped the kiss. But then he also wanted to push things, wanted to see if she was truly metal, or if that flesh was crafted to truly mimic a real human body. He pulled at her clothes, drawing her shirt down her arms and pinning them against her sides. "Is this what you want?" he growled at her, eyes flashing.
"I need you," she whispered, eyes frantically searching his. "That's not programming. It's not fake. This is real. This is what I need."
Derek kissed her again, mouth open and demanding over hers. She responded in kind, thrusting her chest against his. He could feel her nipples pebble through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he pulled her hips against his. His body didn't much care if there was a metal endoskeleton beneath her flesh, as long as the flesh was willing and wet for him. Derek kissed her long and hard, pushing his body flush against hers. Cameron let out a little moan of pleasure, and shimmied against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest.
He pulled her along the wall and then into the living room. She stumbled, which made him feel a little more gratified than it should have. He hauled her up to her feet. Cameron pulled his shirt out of his jeans, her nails scraping along his stomach. Derek shivered, cursing the fact that his skin was so sensitive. Fuck, she felt like a real girl, she reacted like a real girl. He knew she wasn't one, knew that everything was programming and trickery.
Tipping her face first over the edge of the couch, Derek pulled her jeans down over her slim hips. She made a soft mewling sound, fingers scrabbling against the couch cushions. Derek unzipped himself and pushed into her, surprised to find her as wet as she was. "So you like it rough, then?" he growled, hands tight on her hips.
Cameron gasped and pushed back into him, her breath coming in short pants. "You," she gasped. "Because it's you."
That gave him pause, and his rhythm stuttered. "What?"
"I'll take what I can get from you," she whimpered, tilting her hips back to grind against him. "Please, Derek, please."
He slid out of her and pulled her up to her feet. Her kiss was desperate against his mouth, and they stumbled until she was spread out beneath him on the floor. He drove into her, making her wail with pleasure. He pushed in deep and hard, moving fast over her. His hips were like a piston, and her hands pulled him close. Her nails raked down his back, her back arched as he thrust deeply into her. Cameron wailed as she came, sounding just like a woman. She felt like it, tight and hot around him, pulsing as she collapsed beneath him. He came with a grunt, collapsing on top of her.
Derek startled at the feel of her fingers stroking his hair, her lips pressed softly against his temple. "So maybe there is more to you than just programming."
"Yes," she agreed.
"You're still a machine at heart."
Cameron turned away from him, her hands falling to her sides. "If you say so." She remained silent as he left, then curled into a ball on her side. A machine was all he would see her as, all he would let himself see.
"Starting Over." Bourne Identity, Jason/Nicky, gun
Nicky slid down against the wall, her entire body shaking. She had been running long enough to think that she wasn't being followed, but she didn't for a second think she was safe. Jason Bourne was still out there somewhere, and everyone involved with that project was turning up dead. She wasn't sure if he would be able to trace the web of identities she had used to get from Europe to Tokyo, but she didn't put it past him to figure it out. Maybe this really had been a normal mugging, maybe it wasn't. She would rather be paranoid and alive than sloppy and dead. The little punk hadn't put up much of a fight once she had hit him in the trachea, but she still feel safe. She was starting to think maybe she never would.
Her hands were shaking enough that she was glad she wasn't holding her gun or wearing it openly. She couldn't remember Japan's laws on concealed carry, but she wasn't willing to give it up. It had been a tough enough time getting the gun in the first place. Right now, it was the only thing that made her feel as though she could protect herself. She didn't have the training that Bourne did, but she was still an agent. She wasn't a wallflower.
Rubbing her face tiredly, she waited until she got her breath back before looking around to get her bearings. It was late at night, and she would probably be able to get back to her hotel room in one piece. It was cheap and nothing like what she could have had if she was still in the CIA. Nicky couldn't be bothered to care very much, though. This was just another stepping stone in her trip around the world until she felt like she could stop running.
She was aware of the press of people all around her, and felt almost claustrophobic. She could feel someone grasp her right arm and pull her close; that was her gun arm, and she would never be able to draw left handed. Nicky turned her head intending to yell at the poor Japanese man for his presumptuousness, but it wasn't some random stranger.
It was Jason.
Nicky couldn't breathe, and he simply pulled her along toward her hotel room. "How did you find me?" she gasped when he practically manhandled her into the hotel.
"It wasn't that hard."
She couldn't tell anything about his state of mind from his voice. His face was blank, too, and she wanted to cry. She'd done everything as she was supposed to, followed all of her orders. She hadn't even been involved in the damn project, and she was being swept up into its fallout just the same.
Jason had her bring him to her hotel room, and he plucked her gun from its shoulder holster as soon as she entered her room. He had it pressed to her back as he locked the door behind them. Nicky froze, wondering if he was going to shoot her in the back.
"Why did you run?"
"They said you were dangerous and then they were dead. Wouldn't you?" she asked, her voice betraying none of the fear she felt.
The gun was pressed against her spine. "Did you think I was really going to kill you?"
"I wasn't willing to take that risk."
He moved the gun along her spine as if caressing her with it. "Am I that scary?"
"Yes," she whispered, wondering if this would be when he killed her. She didn't want to die, but she never would have wanted it to be in some anonymous room in Tokyo. Surely there were better deaths than that.
Nicky flinched when she heard the gun drop onto the desk beside the front door. "Take off your coat and jacket, then lie down," Jason told her, his voice even and difficult to read.
She did as he asked and stared up at the ceiling. She refused to tremble. She refused to cry. She would not beg for her life or look weak. Nicky was a lot of things, but weak wasn't one of them. She would never have lasted this long otherwise.
Jason sat down on the bed beside her. "You really think I'm here to kill you? Or do something even worse?"
She wouldn't look at him. "Why else are you here?"
He turned her face to look at his. "I'm tired, Nicky. I'm tired of the fucking games they play. How can you put up with it?"
"I'm not part of anything," she protested, shaking her head. "I'm communications, nothing more. I don't get caught up in that."
His fingers slid down her chin to touch her neck. "You really believe that, don't you? That you have no influence over what happens?"
"I don't," she said, looking at him in confusion.
Jason laid his hand over her chest and laughed bitterly. "Maybe that's why you're still around. The rest of them are dead, pulling in favors left and right to try to stay alive. You just duck out of sight. It never even occurred to you to try to help them track me."
"I thought you'd kill me," she said, not sure what to say. She was definitely too afraid to move, for fear of disrupting him and turning him violent. He didn't give off that kind of feel, but she didn't know anything about him anymore. It was best to play it safe about the whole thing.
"They started it," he said quietly. "Did you know that? They killed Marie coming after me. They didn't care who they hurt, just wanted us dead."
"Reports said that there were losses bringing you in for questioning," Nicky told him when he fell silent. "No one ever said..."
"Of course they wouldn't," he told her, voice still bitter. "So you thought I was a mindless killer, didn't you?"
"It crossed my mind," she admitted softly.
Jason moved his hand from her chest to her neck. He didn't try to strangle her, as she initially feared he might. He simply let his fingers run over her skin, his eyes tracking the rise and fall of her chest. "Are you still afraid of me?"
"What do you want from me?"
"Maybe I want my humanity back," he said softly. "They wanted me to be a mindless killer. They wanted to program me into someone else. I'm not sure what's left anymore." He met her eyes, and there was a sadness there she hadn't seen before. "I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to become this."
"I'm sorry," Nicky said in hushed tones, not wanting to break the spell. "I really am."
"Yes, you are, aren't you?" he murmured, looking at her. "You really weren't a part of it."
Before Nicky could say anything in response, he leaned down and kissed her. It was soft, exploratory. Her arms were free; he had never pinned her down, so she could always push him back if that was what she wanted to do. But she let her eyes fall shut and she gave herself over to the kiss. She was tired of running. She was tired of wondering where he was, if he was going to shoot her between the eyes or in the middle of her back. She wanted to stop, to rest, to simply think about something other than mere survival.
Nicky ran her hand along his chest and pulled him down on top of her. For a long time they lay like that, kissing each other slowly and gingerly, his body sprawled across hers. Jason raised himself up on his elbows and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse, occasionally flicking his eyes up to hers. She didn't protest, and even nodded when he seemed to need her permission. She shrugged out of the sleeves when he had it completely unbuttoned, and she pulled at his shirt. He drew it up the rest of the way, leaving him bare from the waist up and her in her plain white bra. She suddenly wished she had something nicer than this, but his eyes were dark with desire. His lips were reverent over her skin, tasting her and stroking her. Nicky ran her fingers over his muscled back, her breath in short gasps in her throat. She pushed him back at one point, confusing him until she wriggled out of her bra.
Jason laughed until he closed his lips over a breast, rolling his tongue around the nipple gently. He was testing her, tasting her, seeing how far he could push things. Nicky was tired of that kind of game, tired of running and second guessing. She kicked off her shoes and undid her own pants before attacking his. Jason drew her pants down her legs then kicked off his own. They were both in briefs, the only barrier left between them. There was still time to turn back if she wanted to.
Fuck that. She was starting over. She wasn't going to run anymore.
She kicked off her panties and dragged his briefs down over his angular hips. Taking his cock into her mouth, Nicky closed her eyes and simply breathed him in. She ran her tongue along his length, bobbing her head back and forth. He was making soft moaning sounds, his fingers tangled in her hair, his thighs trembling as he tried to stay kneeling on the bed. He fell over after a moment, his cock falling from her lips. Jason's pupils were blown wide with lust as he reached for her, hands on her breasts. She was wet, and his other hand was buried between her thighs. Nicky palmed him, rubbing the heel of her hand along him before gently scratching at his balls. She tensed as he rubbed her harder, pulling at her breast, and she made a small squeaking sound. "I'm close," she whimpered, nearly grinding down on his hand. Another flick of his fingers and she came, tight and pulsing.
He pulled her down on top of him, sliding all the way inside her. He urged her to rock against him, and Nicky merely gasped and picked up the rhythm he set. It was hard and fast, and he kept one hand between them to continue rubbing at her clit. His other hand was at a breast, and she was reaching behind her to grasp his thighs. See-sawing back and forth above him, she came twice more before Jason groaned and arched up to meet her. "God, that," he groaned before he collapsed beneath her.
Nicky carefully lowered herself over him so that he was still buried to the hilt inside her. His hands rested gently over her spine, and she tucked her face against his neck as she struggled to breathe. What did this mean?
"Where are you headed next?" he whispered softly, just when she thought they would fall asleep this way.
"I don't know. I never had a plan."
"Have you ever been to Chile? I've been meaning to go there. We can play tourist together."
The words themselves were neutral, but Nicky could almost hear the vulnerability in his voice. She struggled to prop herself up onto one elbow to look him in the eye. "Are there tourist things to do there?" she asked, brows furrowed. "I don't know much about it."
"So we can explore it together."
She smiled in the face of his boyish grin. "Yeah. We can do that." She lowered herself down over him and settled in to sleep.
"Unexpected." Firefly/Harry Potter, River Tam/Luna, laughter
"Oh. This place doesn't look very nice."
River opened her eyes and looked up blearily at the sound of the voice and the embarrassed laughter afterward. She was alone in her room, and hadn't realized that the Academy was like this. She had thought it was just a school where she could learn. More fool her.
"Are you here to take me to another interview?" she asked, a trace of bitterness in her voice. They weren't letting her dance. They were supposed to let her dance, but all they did was shove physics and physical training at her. There were things in the walls, and she startled at the sound of skittering.
"It's the Borglum," the blonde girl said in a sage tone of voice. Her radish earrings seemed to throw off their own light, and she looked around the bare room. "Yes, this is just the sort of place that Borglum like to inhabit. Dark and cold, no personality whatsoever."
"Who are you?" River asked. Formality was important. Titles were important. Only the most notable heads of state would ever come meet her, if she progressed far enough. Doctor Matthias had been very clear on that point. She had to advance far enough in the program for that. Otherwise, she would never dance again.
"Luna," the girl said, sitting next to her. She laughed a little as she caught River's confused look. "It's all right. I didn't expect to meet anyone I knew either." She jumped to her feet and did a curtsy, laughing at River's stunned expression. Her face fell slightly as she sat back down. "I did a spell to get away from one war. It looks like I'm in the middle of another one."
"What are you talking about? What war?"
"The one for your mind. The Borglum will take it if you're not careful."
River lunged at her. "How did you get in here? How? I need to get out. I need to get out."
"I told you. It was a spell, but I think I said some of the words wrong. I went too far in time." She wriggled beneath River, making her gasp in pleasure. Luna stilled, then looked at her knowingly. "No one touches you, do they?"
"Only to hold me down or run the tests," she said, voice tight. "Aren't you here to take me to one?"
Luna deliberately grasped River's face in hers. "No. I'm not."
River listened to her story of a faraway castle on Earth That Was, with magic and mysteries, prophecies and curses, and a scared boy forced to grow up before his time. "I thought I'd help," Luna said in that same unperturbed tone of voice. "After all, things are just objects. They only gain meaning once you give it to them. So I hoped to find something to give him meaning, to help him on his journey. But I seem to be falling into one problem after another. Perhaps I should go home for hols, talk it over with my father."
Holding onto the strange girl for dear live, River nearly sobbed. "I don't have anyone to take me home. I keep writing to my brother Simon, but he won't come. He's not coming for me."
"Does he know?"
"He has to! I keep telling him to!"
"Then perhaps that's why," Luna told her patiently. "At the castle, letters are screened. Not all of them make it through. What if he's not getting your letters?"
River grasped the meaning right away. "I need to talk in code."
"Precisely. No one ever looks at the edges of things. They look straightforward, all lines and angles and direct paths. Sometimes it's what's out of the corner of your eyes that make the most sense." Luna leaned forward and kissed River gently. "You'll understand. I sense it in you. You don't have magic, not like we do, but you have a magic all your own."
River kissed her again, and somehow it deepened. Somehow this made sense. This was what she needed right then.
Luna stripped her slowly, licking the skin as it was exposed. Luna moved swiftly, moving down to suck on one of River's breasts once she had pulled off the blue uniform. River's mouth opened and a tiny sound of pleasure escaped her lips as Luna's hands stroked farther down. Her long fingers slid into the soft tangle of damp curls, finding River's clit and beginning to stroke it. Her breath fell over River's stomach, her lips hovering just above the skin. "You'll be all right," Luna whispered, almost to herself. "Won't you?"
"I don't know," River said. "I'm trapped here." She made a keening sound as Luna licked a trail from the side of her thigh to her sensitive clit. Luna pulled her hand away, then slowly slid a finger deeply inside River. Then her lips closed around River's clit, tugging gently. River made a cry that sounded almost like a prayer, almost like begging. Luna kept licking at her clit, then dipped her tongue down to taste her slit. "Luna," River whimpered, writhing beneath her mouth.
Luna kept going until River came, tight around her finger and nearly convulsing on the bed. "You're only as trapped as you think you are. Your mind can move beyond convention, beyond the little walls here. They're teaching you the wrong way to think."
River looked up as Luna stood and absently licked her fingers. "You're not staying?"
"This isn't where I need to be," Luna replied with a shrug. "I can't stay. I can't even bring you with me, because I don't know what would happen to you if I brought you with me." Luna knelt and pressed a kiss over River's breast, above where her heart would be. She whispered a few words of vaguely Latin derivation, then kissed the spot again. "There. That's protection against the Borglum."
River wanted to say something else, but Luna took a necklace from around her neck that River hadn't noticed. She broke it, and Luna winked out of sight.
No one believed her the next morning when River reported having an unexpected visitor. They upped her medication instead.
"Assumptions." Firefly, River/Jayne, stranded
The engines cut out not far from the docks at Persephone. It was a scramble to try to get everything fixed before anyone caught wind of them. It wouldn't do to be stranded dirtside with guns pointed at them and no way out of the situation. River had tried to be helpful, but Kaylee's frustration burned along her skin and she could feel the tension in Mal and Zoe. They didn't need her there. They didn't want her there.
River walked beside an empty row of stalls, thoughts turned inward. She didn't realize how far she had walked until Jayne caught her by the arm and spun her around. "Hey, feng le girl. You weren't runnin' out on us, were ya?"
She looked up at him with glassy eyes devoid of emotion. "I give space when others request it. Is that in error?"
Jayne frowned. "Who told ya to go away?"
"They didn't need me."
He sighed and let go of her arm. "So they never said it. You just thought it."
"You think I was incorrect with the assumption?"
"You know what they say about assuming things," Jayne told her in a wise tone.
River blinked in surprise at him. "No," she said, not sure what he was getting at. She tried to think through the dozens of quotes from notable authors she once tried to collect as a child, but nothing came to mind.
"It makes an ass outta you an' me." He grinned at her startled laughter, gratified that she got the joke. "C'mon, moonbrain. Shouldn't go too far from the others, in case one of Mal's enemies gets wind of us all out here stranded."
"You are far more clever than others think you are. Why don't you disabuse them of the notion?"
"Don't got anything to live up to then," Jayne replied with a shrug. He winced inwardly when he realized he had revealed more than he meant to say, but there was no taking back the words. River seemed thoughtful. "What?"
"They see me as damaged. Do I leave them with the assumption? Then there's less for me to live up to as well."
She seemed to grasp the difficulty with that plan right away. Jayne patted River's hand gently. "Don't think it works every time, moonbrain. It don't always work out so good."
River spun around him in a pirouette and then pulled herself up to her tip toes to give him a kiss on the mouth. He sputtered and protested, trying to push her backward. It sent them tumbling into one of the empty stalls. "What in the gorram hell was that for?"
Her smile was sad. "I didn't want you to assume I was a child. I wanted you to see me for what I am."
Jayne frowned at her as he sat up. "Why?"
She touched his lips gently, tracing the edge of them with a nail. "I am no longer a child, a thing you would have to protect. I am woman, with a woman's desires and needs."
It was almost comical to see the way his eyes widened as he made the connection in her words. "But..."
"They still see me as a naughty child to scold. You don't." River cocked her head to the side as she considered. "You are pleasing in some ways, most cantankerous in others. It's an odd combination. I don't understand why I would be drawn to that."
Jayne snorted. "Is that a fancy way of saying opposites attract?"
River smiled. "Not precisely, but that would suffice."
He thought of letting her down gently, saying that she was a Core girl and he didn't know what to do with one of those. He was a rough and tumble sort of man, the kind that met his baser needs and didn't bother with worrying about politics or literature or learning. He had his guns and his knives, let others underestimate his wits and he survived. Core girls needed finery and all those fancy words he didn't know.
"Who's assuming something?" River asked, lips quirked into a smile. She pushed him onto his back, showing him that she was stronger than she looked. She straddled his waist, her hands at his belt. "I have no wish to be anything other than what I have. I have made peace with it, even if others have not."
"You sure it's me you want?" Jayne asked, still not quite sure if he should do anything.
She undid his belt and opened his jeans. "Yes."
He gave up trying to dissuade her when her hands closed over him, when she drew him out of his jeans and into her mouth. He pulled her body so that her hips were over his face, so that he could pull the girlish panties away and bury his lips in her folds. He liked sex; it was one of the things he knew how to do very well, even if it wasn't something he could boast about in pleasant company. True, he wasn't often in pleasant company, but it still wasn't a common topic of conversation.
Going by River's sighs and startled sucks, she enjoyed this particular skill set. He worked her into an orgasm before he pulled back to slide his fingers into her tight heat. River pulled her back to let out a groan, and she pressed her forehead against his groin to ride out the aftershocks. He pumped his fingers hard and fast, until she came again. She seemed limp in his arms, so Jayne repositioned her onto her back. He slid into her, pushing past a barrier and making her cry out in mingled pleasure and pain. He moved fast and rough, her nails scratching at his chest through his T shirt. She writhed, breath rapid, feeling the not-quite-pain deep inside her until Jayne dragged his fingers over her again. That tipped the balance and River whimpered softly, bucking her hips against him. Jayne came in a rush, biting back a shout.
They stared at each other afterward. "Um..." Jayne began, uncertain.
"I would not wish to assume anything by this," River began slowly. "I wish for a repeat, but if you don't..."
"Well, I could do a better job," he began slowly. "Not exactly my best performance, you understand."
Her lips quirked into a slight smile, as if she understood what he was trying not to say. "You have a reputation to uphold."
"Exactly. So... You know. Gotta try again at some point."
"When we're safely in the black and no one will try to shoot at us."
"Yeah. That." Jayne got up and helped her to her feet. "And no telling nobody until we know what's going on. Can't have them thinking the wrong thing."
"Precisely what I was thinking," River replied with a grin. She danced out of the stall, feeling a thousand times better than before and about eight feet tall. "I need to be sure if feeling like this happens every time. Like a scientific experiment. There are too many variables to control for. There might need to be tens of thousands of experiments to perform."
Jayne's lips couldn't help but quirk into a smile at her exuberance; it was an ego boost he hadn't expected to receive that day. "Sounds like a plan. Never say I never did nothing helpful."
River's smile was sweet as she reached out and pulled him closer to her. "I do see you that way, especially recently. The others will someday, too."
He didn't think so, but it was nice of her to assume they would. To round out the unexpectedly good day, the crew was able to leave without getting shot at.
"Acceptance." Pitch Black, Carolyn/Riddick, sunlight
Riddick didn't want a fucking empire to rule. He wanted to be out there, running from mercs and finding new places to exist without having to constantly watch his back. Now that he was something like a king to people of various flavors of undead, he had to actually do shit. He had to be responsible. Fuck.
The entire Necromonger fleet was at his beck and call, and he wanted to get the hell away from everything reminding him of Kira and the preachers and all the people he had foolishly thought he could save. He shouldn't have bothered. People were useless. They died, they fought, they broke. No goddamn use in trusting any one of them. Vaako mentioned some stupid ass planet that was full of sun and sand and the glory of the Necromonger race and some bullshit like that. All he heard was that they had washed over the place like a plague, reducing the populace to Necromongers against their will. There hadn't been enough defense to stop them, and everyone, even the sick in the hospitals, were taken to the conversion chambers.
He looked over the planet, seeing the sandy continents from above the atmosphere. He insisted on landing dirtside. He had to see the place for himself; for a while he thought it looked like Hades, and he was almost convinced he could see bleached bones and cave systems in the shadows from the dunes. But he blinked and it was gone. There was nothing there but sand and Necromonger cities, and his chest felt tight with barely remembered pain.
The Necromongers insisted on parading themselves in front of him. They were like so much meat, and he couldn't even feel a stirring at the thought of hitting the sweet spot and bleeding them out. No challenge. They weren't fighters, and he needed someone to push him past his limits. Riddick had overcome the Necro leaders, and the only one chafing under his rule was Lady Vaao. And really, slitting her throat was probably necessary. He might get a moment's peace from feeling her blood flow across his fingers, but it would be temporary. Vaako might get bitchy if he did that, and he didn't feel like having to kick the man in the teeth just to reassert dominance. Vaako took care of all the minor shit he didn't want to deal with, which left him more time to be angry and feel that prophecies were a pain in the ass.
Riddick's breath stopped at the familiar face in front of him in the reception line. The scent of her was a little bit different, cooler, but it was ultimately still the same smell of beautiful. He breathed in deeply, enough that there was a disturbed look in her eyes. "You're coming with me."
He didn't give a flying fuck that this was a reception in his honor. If he was the goddamn leader, he could leave his own party whenever the hell he fucking felt like it. He slammed the woman against the wall, seeing the breath fly out of her lungs. Her hair was darker now, less blonde, though there were bleached out strands from the overwhelming sunlight on this hellhole of a planet. The scars on her neck were puckered and pale, just as Kira's had been, and she was ghostly white against the black of the formfitting dress she was wearing. She was completely covered, no skin showing, and Riddick couldn't be sure there was recognition in her eyes. Kira had remembered, but he couldn't see it until it was too goddamn late.
"Carolyn," Riddick said in a low voice, seeing her flinch at the name. "So you remember?"
"I need to go," she rasped. "Please, Lord Commander, I need to go..."
He grasped her throat in his hands. He could twist and simply break her neck, sever the spinal cord and watch her drop. Then she would meet her true death, and none of the fucking Necros would be able to do anything else to her. But she would also be dead, truly dead, and he was sick of the dead bodies he was leaving behind.
"How did you survive Hades?" Riddick growled, her slow pulse beneath his hands. Her eyes were wide, terrified, and he could feel his own blood rising in response to it. "Tell me," he commanded, stroking the curve of her throat, knowing just how deep the carotid would be. Arterial blood was so much prettier than venous, and it tasted so much better on his tongue.
"They found the beacon," Carolyn whispered, holding herself so very still. "They fried the demons, they found me, they put me in line." Her eyes slid away from his. "It almost hurt as much as when the creatures tried to gut me."
"Show me."
"Riddick," she pleaded, trying to turn away from him.
"Show me what they did to you," he snarled. He had to see for himself. She wasn't supposed to die for him, wasn't supposed to die at all, and here she was with death beneath her skin. He needed to see to be sure, that he wasn't simply wishing for someone he recognized in this entire empire he hadn't even wanted.
She didn't shake, though he could scent her fear. She didn't like to see the remnants of her old life, didn't like to think about the pain. Carolyn peeled the dress back, exposing herself to the waist for him. She couldn't meet his gaze, even when his hands rested over the mass of twisted tissue in the center of her chest and abdomen. He half turned her, seeing the mirrored scars across her back. Pinned between his massive hands, she seemed fragile. She wasn't the same Carolyn Fry he remembered, the strength of steel in her spine. "What else did the Necros do to you, Carolyn?" he asked, his voice like a blade. He knew knives, she didn't.
"They put me back together," she said, voice toneless and dull. "They gave me a place to live."
"Why here?" he asked. There was something he was missing.
She looked up at him with empty eyes. "I asked for a place with sunlight. I couldn't be trapped in the dark again. So they put me here and made sure I was nowhere near a ship."
"That changes now," Riddick snarled. His mouth crashed down over hers. Fuck, she tasted like the same kind of beautiful. Whatever they did to people to turn them into Necros had muted her scent unless there was strong emotion involved. They'd managed to crush the edges of her spirit, and he wanted to carve out holes of every Necro that was there when it happened to her. He wanted his Carolyn back, the one that met him on Hades and pushed past her fear to get shit done. He wanted this version of Carolyn to shed her skin and become the creature she had been all those years ago, the one that almost made him want to be a different man.
He palmed her breasts and she clutched at his chest. The stupid uniform was all black and silver fabric, stratchy as hell, and he laughed when she pulled it from his skin. Yes. He would bring her back, make her remember who she used to be. This place, this stupid goddamn planet was too much like Hades, a fucking slap in the face every time she woke up. Once she was back in space, back in her element, she would shine.
Riddick pushed the silly Necro dress down from her hips. It slid easily to the floor, and she was bare to him. One nice thing was that Necros didn't do underwear. He lifted her in his hands, seeing the acceptance in her eyes. This was years past due, and he slid home in one sharp thrust. Her nails dug into his back and the breath caught in her chest. "Riddick," she whispered, eyes locked to his. "God, you're really real."
"Did you think I wouldn't come back for you if I knew?"
"You're a survivor," she choked, clutching at his shoulders. Her hips tilted against his as she moved to lock her ankles around his waist. He drove deeper into her, and she made a mewling noise deep in her throat. "I didn't think I mattered that much to you."
"Then fucking think again," he growled, driving himself deep and hard into her. "You're mine, Carolyn. Mine. No one else gets to touch you. I'm the one that tastes you, I'm the one to keep you." He balanced her weight against the wall with one hand and grasped the back of her neck with the other. Her hair was fine and smooth against the fingers he tangled into it. It felt the same, smelled the same. "You belong to me."
She started to shiver in his arms, her breath coming in short gasps. "Riddick," she whimpered, fingers digging into the muscles at his shoulders. "Oh, God, please," she panted.
He thrust into her harder, faster. Her eyes rolled up toward the back of her head and her mouth had fallen open. He claimed it in a rough kiss, tongue in her mouth to taste her. She came, convulsing around him, tremors rolling through her. She wasn't particularly loud, but he suddenly wanted her to be. He wanted the entire fucking hall to know what he thought of their goddamn rituals and parties. Fuck it all, he'd rather have Carolyn on her back beneath him, pushed down on all fours, begging for him. He didn't want an empire to rule. He wanted the thrill of the hunt, the beast within sated only with sex or blood or meat between his teeth, his blades sinking down into the sweet spot, blood gushing in a fine spray.
Riddick came, his body pushing hers almost uncomfortably into the wall. She didn't say anything; she'd lived through worse, and this discomfort was mild in comparison. He'd been gutted once, so he knew the shock and pain that came along with it. He held her hands above her head and pressed his teeth against her pounding pulse in her throat. She didn't struggle against him; she had always been too smart for that shit. He had always been able to physically overpower her. It had been her mind that had drawn him as well as her scent. She was sharp, a survivor as well, but hadn't been honed into a blade as he had. Riddick pressed his teeth into her skin, and she was still beneath his mouth. He sucked at her skin, abraded it with his teeth, and the scent of her rose thick in his mouth.
"You're mine, Carolyn," he said, pulling back. He had marked her neck, and he felt a rush of pride at the sight of it. He drew his fingertips across it and watched her shiver under his touch. Her eyes were alive again, not the empty soulless things the Necros had pushed onto her.
"And what's the cost of being yours?" she asked, a fine edge to her voice.
God, she was fucking beautiful and that voice was back. He wanted to fuck her again.
"You've already paid it," Riddick growled, pushing his clothes back into place. "Now I get you off this goddamn hellhole."
"Where are you hiding me next?" There was bitterness in her voice, something else that he didn't know about the years before this day. Oh, he would break heads and pull spines out of backs for this. He would skin the Necros that tried to break her, put them up as warning not to pull this shit with anyone else. He would cut a swath through their ranks, spill all the blood they'd taken against everyone's will.
Riddick merely grinned at her, eyes shining in the half light. It wasn't a kind smile, and she met it fearlessly. She had already lived through the worst pain the universe had to offer, and knew nothing could compare to it. He loved that kind of look.
"I own these assholes," he said, voice milder than his shark's smile. "I don't need to hide anything. You're with me, aren't you?"
Carolyn's eyes assessed his face, weighing something in her mind. He would dig deep at some point, uncover the missing years and break the fuckers that tried to change who she was. He would know who put that kind of caution into her. "I'm with you."
Riddick palmed the back of her skull, a sense of peace rolling through him. "You know how to fly, Carolyn. I'm going to give you a ship. We're going to break them all, piece by piece."
There was something fierce in her sudden grin, something that warmed Riddick. Their attempts to break her had changed her, but he was wrong about what had changed. He had thought they had broken her, or tried to soften the edges of her. Now he could see that she had simply been biding her time, pushing the hate and pain down deep, waiting for a good time to strike. She was like their captured Furyan, waiting for the moment she could try to undermine their belief.
"I'm glad you found me, then."
"Me, too," Riddick growled, then claimed her mouth in a possessive kiss. Suddenly being master of the Necromonger empire was much more desirable.
"Trying Something New." Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, slow, shiver, experimenting
"You sure you want to try this?" Ginny asked softly, fingers sliding across Draco's skin. "We don't have to. I wouldn't think any less of you."
"I said I would try," Draco replied, lying face down on the bed. Her touch was maddening, avoiding everything sensitive he wanted her to touch. Back and forth her fingers ran, across his skin and lighting a fire in his veins. He tried to keep himself still as she had asked, but it was so hard to do. He wanted to move, he wanted to speed things up, he wanted more.
Of course, she wasn't giving it. She was kneeling between his spread legs, her touch feather light. He wasn't pinned to the bed by anything but his own willpower, and he thought about letting go. He thought about turning over, of pulling her beneath him and fucking her hard, never mind this game they were trying tonight. But he had promised to do whatever she wanted tonight. He had knelt in front of her, eyes shining in the face of that slow, sensuous smile she had given him, and he had known he would promise her anything she wanted. It was like seeing her for the first time, feeling himself fall under her spell all over again. It was that smile that promised him more, if only he would be good. It was the smile that helped him fall in love with her, with the life she had held out for him like a prized gift.
And oh, it had truly been a gift. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he was infinitely grateful to her for helping him find a home.
Finally, finally, her fingers found him. He was pressed against the bed, hard and thick and waiting for her touch. Wordless magic pushed a pillow beneath his hips, lifting him toward her hands. They were slicked, making it easier for her to slide inside him. She taunted him, one slim finger moving slowly against tight muscle. Ginny pressed her lips to the rise of his ass, feeling him shudder and shiver beneath her lips.
"You have to be good for me, Draco," she purred. "If you're good, you get to come."
"Merlin, yes," he breathed, eyes squeezed shut as she slid her finger further in.
She'd heard about this from a friend of hers, and Draco had thought that they were crazy. But Ginny was curious, and he was willing to try just about anything with her.
Maybe they weren't so crazy after all.
She moved slowly, so slowly, stroking his length with one hand as she wiggled her finger inside of him. His breath was rapid and shallow, the sensation much more pleasurable than he thought it would be. She moved too slowly, each touch too drawn out. He tried shifting his hips back toward her hand, trying to deepen the strokes. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, and he could feel her smile against his skin. "I take it you like this after all."
"Ginny," he moaned softly. He pulled at the sheets in his fists desperately. "Ginny..."
She slid a second slicked finger into him, keeping the same slow rhythm. Draco let out a keening noise, bringing a fist to his mouth. "No, Draco," she said softly, running her tongue along the skin of his lower back. "Let me hear you."
He moaned and writhed beneath her hand, pushing back at intervals to try to get her to speed up. When she finally did, he was nearly howling with need, shivering at every touch. He came across the sheets, his body slack as he collapsed into the bed.
"I take it you liked that," Ginny said with a laugh. Casting wandless cleaning charms, she crawled up beside him. "Nice thing to try, hm?"
Draco laughed shakily. "Never thought I would, but yeah." He turned over and pulled her on top of him. "But you didn't come yet."
"You do realize my mother will watch the kids overnight?" Ginny asked, eyebrow arched. Draco merely blinked in surprise. "I might've mentioned that we had plans for our anniversary, and she was more than happy to help us out."
Draco grinned and ran his fingers through her hair. "So I get to play with you, now?"
"Mum will bring them back after lunch tomorrow. Think it's enough time?"
"It's a start," he whispered, pulling her down for a kiss.
None of these were beta’ed. I don’t own ANYONE in these ficlets, which is a shame. Everyone here is an adult and engaging in very consensual and very not kid safe activities. You know how I like to write it at this point. Last post for this round, I promise. The prior would've been last, but DW allows longer posts than LJ does. :D
"A Machine At Heart." Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Cameron/Derek Reese, need
"What have you done to him?" Derek Reese asked, voice harsh. "He shouldn't come to your rescue. You're a machine!"
Cameron turned her dark eyes onto him, expression as placid as always. "I realize this. I have told him that I'm not the important one, that he has to do what needs to be done. He has to survive Judgment Day."
Derek pushed her against the wall, teeth bared in anger. They were the only two in the house at the moment, and he knew that it would stay that way for a while yet. "You say that, but I don't think you mean it. I think you're just a machine, programmed to gain his trust. You aren't helping him."
"He would have died already if not for me."
"John doesn't need you," Derek hissed at her. "You're not real. You're just programming."
Cameron struggled in his grip; she didn't want to break him. That would make John upset, and she couldn't have that. "I'm real. This is not programming."
"Of course it is," Derek scoffed. "You don't need anything."
"Yes, I do," she said. Before he could ask what that was, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth, her lips parted.
Blood rushing in his ears, Derek responded to the kiss before he could stop himself. When his mind caught up to what his body was doing, he nearly pulled back and stopped the kiss. But then he also wanted to push things, wanted to see if she was truly metal, or if that flesh was crafted to truly mimic a real human body. He pulled at her clothes, drawing her shirt down her arms and pinning them against her sides. "Is this what you want?" he growled at her, eyes flashing.
"I need you," she whispered, eyes frantically searching his. "That's not programming. It's not fake. This is real. This is what I need."
Derek kissed her again, mouth open and demanding over hers. She responded in kind, thrusting her chest against his. He could feel her nipples pebble through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he pulled her hips against his. His body didn't much care if there was a metal endoskeleton beneath her flesh, as long as the flesh was willing and wet for him. Derek kissed her long and hard, pushing his body flush against hers. Cameron let out a little moan of pleasure, and shimmied against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest.
He pulled her along the wall and then into the living room. She stumbled, which made him feel a little more gratified than it should have. He hauled her up to her feet. Cameron pulled his shirt out of his jeans, her nails scraping along his stomach. Derek shivered, cursing the fact that his skin was so sensitive. Fuck, she felt like a real girl, she reacted like a real girl. He knew she wasn't one, knew that everything was programming and trickery.
Tipping her face first over the edge of the couch, Derek pulled her jeans down over her slim hips. She made a soft mewling sound, fingers scrabbling against the couch cushions. Derek unzipped himself and pushed into her, surprised to find her as wet as she was. "So you like it rough, then?" he growled, hands tight on her hips.
Cameron gasped and pushed back into him, her breath coming in short pants. "You," she gasped. "Because it's you."
That gave him pause, and his rhythm stuttered. "What?"
"I'll take what I can get from you," she whimpered, tilting her hips back to grind against him. "Please, Derek, please."
He slid out of her and pulled her up to her feet. Her kiss was desperate against his mouth, and they stumbled until she was spread out beneath him on the floor. He drove into her, making her wail with pleasure. He pushed in deep and hard, moving fast over her. His hips were like a piston, and her hands pulled him close. Her nails raked down his back, her back arched as he thrust deeply into her. Cameron wailed as she came, sounding just like a woman. She felt like it, tight and hot around him, pulsing as she collapsed beneath him. He came with a grunt, collapsing on top of her.
Derek startled at the feel of her fingers stroking his hair, her lips pressed softly against his temple. "So maybe there is more to you than just programming."
"Yes," she agreed.
"You're still a machine at heart."
Cameron turned away from him, her hands falling to her sides. "If you say so." She remained silent as he left, then curled into a ball on her side. A machine was all he would see her as, all he would let himself see.
"Starting Over." Bourne Identity, Jason/Nicky, gun
Nicky slid down against the wall, her entire body shaking. She had been running long enough to think that she wasn't being followed, but she didn't for a second think she was safe. Jason Bourne was still out there somewhere, and everyone involved with that project was turning up dead. She wasn't sure if he would be able to trace the web of identities she had used to get from Europe to Tokyo, but she didn't put it past him to figure it out. Maybe this really had been a normal mugging, maybe it wasn't. She would rather be paranoid and alive than sloppy and dead. The little punk hadn't put up much of a fight once she had hit him in the trachea, but she still feel safe. She was starting to think maybe she never would.
Her hands were shaking enough that she was glad she wasn't holding her gun or wearing it openly. She couldn't remember Japan's laws on concealed carry, but she wasn't willing to give it up. It had been a tough enough time getting the gun in the first place. Right now, it was the only thing that made her feel as though she could protect herself. She didn't have the training that Bourne did, but she was still an agent. She wasn't a wallflower.
Rubbing her face tiredly, she waited until she got her breath back before looking around to get her bearings. It was late at night, and she would probably be able to get back to her hotel room in one piece. It was cheap and nothing like what she could have had if she was still in the CIA. Nicky couldn't be bothered to care very much, though. This was just another stepping stone in her trip around the world until she felt like she could stop running.
She was aware of the press of people all around her, and felt almost claustrophobic. She could feel someone grasp her right arm and pull her close; that was her gun arm, and she would never be able to draw left handed. Nicky turned her head intending to yell at the poor Japanese man for his presumptuousness, but it wasn't some random stranger.
It was Jason.
Nicky couldn't breathe, and he simply pulled her along toward her hotel room. "How did you find me?" she gasped when he practically manhandled her into the hotel.
"It wasn't that hard."
She couldn't tell anything about his state of mind from his voice. His face was blank, too, and she wanted to cry. She'd done everything as she was supposed to, followed all of her orders. She hadn't even been involved in the damn project, and she was being swept up into its fallout just the same.
Jason had her bring him to her hotel room, and he plucked her gun from its shoulder holster as soon as she entered her room. He had it pressed to her back as he locked the door behind them. Nicky froze, wondering if he was going to shoot her in the back.
"Why did you run?"
"They said you were dangerous and then they were dead. Wouldn't you?" she asked, her voice betraying none of the fear she felt.
The gun was pressed against her spine. "Did you think I was really going to kill you?"
"I wasn't willing to take that risk."
He moved the gun along her spine as if caressing her with it. "Am I that scary?"
"Yes," she whispered, wondering if this would be when he killed her. She didn't want to die, but she never would have wanted it to be in some anonymous room in Tokyo. Surely there were better deaths than that.
Nicky flinched when she heard the gun drop onto the desk beside the front door. "Take off your coat and jacket, then lie down," Jason told her, his voice even and difficult to read.
She did as he asked and stared up at the ceiling. She refused to tremble. She refused to cry. She would not beg for her life or look weak. Nicky was a lot of things, but weak wasn't one of them. She would never have lasted this long otherwise.
Jason sat down on the bed beside her. "You really think I'm here to kill you? Or do something even worse?"
She wouldn't look at him. "Why else are you here?"
He turned her face to look at his. "I'm tired, Nicky. I'm tired of the fucking games they play. How can you put up with it?"
"I'm not part of anything," she protested, shaking her head. "I'm communications, nothing more. I don't get caught up in that."
His fingers slid down her chin to touch her neck. "You really believe that, don't you? That you have no influence over what happens?"
"I don't," she said, looking at him in confusion.
Jason laid his hand over her chest and laughed bitterly. "Maybe that's why you're still around. The rest of them are dead, pulling in favors left and right to try to stay alive. You just duck out of sight. It never even occurred to you to try to help them track me."
"I thought you'd kill me," she said, not sure what to say. She was definitely too afraid to move, for fear of disrupting him and turning him violent. He didn't give off that kind of feel, but she didn't know anything about him anymore. It was best to play it safe about the whole thing.
"They started it," he said quietly. "Did you know that? They killed Marie coming after me. They didn't care who they hurt, just wanted us dead."
"Reports said that there were losses bringing you in for questioning," Nicky told him when he fell silent. "No one ever said..."
"Of course they wouldn't," he told her, voice still bitter. "So you thought I was a mindless killer, didn't you?"
"It crossed my mind," she admitted softly.
Jason moved his hand from her chest to her neck. He didn't try to strangle her, as she initially feared he might. He simply let his fingers run over her skin, his eyes tracking the rise and fall of her chest. "Are you still afraid of me?"
"What do you want from me?"
"Maybe I want my humanity back," he said softly. "They wanted me to be a mindless killer. They wanted to program me into someone else. I'm not sure what's left anymore." He met her eyes, and there was a sadness there she hadn't seen before. "I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to become this."
"I'm sorry," Nicky said in hushed tones, not wanting to break the spell. "I really am."
"Yes, you are, aren't you?" he murmured, looking at her. "You really weren't a part of it."
Before Nicky could say anything in response, he leaned down and kissed her. It was soft, exploratory. Her arms were free; he had never pinned her down, so she could always push him back if that was what she wanted to do. But she let her eyes fall shut and she gave herself over to the kiss. She was tired of running. She was tired of wondering where he was, if he was going to shoot her between the eyes or in the middle of her back. She wanted to stop, to rest, to simply think about something other than mere survival.
Nicky ran her hand along his chest and pulled him down on top of her. For a long time they lay like that, kissing each other slowly and gingerly, his body sprawled across hers. Jason raised himself up on his elbows and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse, occasionally flicking his eyes up to hers. She didn't protest, and even nodded when he seemed to need her permission. She shrugged out of the sleeves when he had it completely unbuttoned, and she pulled at his shirt. He drew it up the rest of the way, leaving him bare from the waist up and her in her plain white bra. She suddenly wished she had something nicer than this, but his eyes were dark with desire. His lips were reverent over her skin, tasting her and stroking her. Nicky ran her fingers over his muscled back, her breath in short gasps in her throat. She pushed him back at one point, confusing him until she wriggled out of her bra.
Jason laughed until he closed his lips over a breast, rolling his tongue around the nipple gently. He was testing her, tasting her, seeing how far he could push things. Nicky was tired of that kind of game, tired of running and second guessing. She kicked off her shoes and undid her own pants before attacking his. Jason drew her pants down her legs then kicked off his own. They were both in briefs, the only barrier left between them. There was still time to turn back if she wanted to.
Fuck that. She was starting over. She wasn't going to run anymore.
She kicked off her panties and dragged his briefs down over his angular hips. Taking his cock into her mouth, Nicky closed her eyes and simply breathed him in. She ran her tongue along his length, bobbing her head back and forth. He was making soft moaning sounds, his fingers tangled in her hair, his thighs trembling as he tried to stay kneeling on the bed. He fell over after a moment, his cock falling from her lips. Jason's pupils were blown wide with lust as he reached for her, hands on her breasts. She was wet, and his other hand was buried between her thighs. Nicky palmed him, rubbing the heel of her hand along him before gently scratching at his balls. She tensed as he rubbed her harder, pulling at her breast, and she made a small squeaking sound. "I'm close," she whimpered, nearly grinding down on his hand. Another flick of his fingers and she came, tight and pulsing.
He pulled her down on top of him, sliding all the way inside her. He urged her to rock against him, and Nicky merely gasped and picked up the rhythm he set. It was hard and fast, and he kept one hand between them to continue rubbing at her clit. His other hand was at a breast, and she was reaching behind her to grasp his thighs. See-sawing back and forth above him, she came twice more before Jason groaned and arched up to meet her. "God, that," he groaned before he collapsed beneath her.
Nicky carefully lowered herself over him so that he was still buried to the hilt inside her. His hands rested gently over her spine, and she tucked her face against his neck as she struggled to breathe. What did this mean?
"Where are you headed next?" he whispered softly, just when she thought they would fall asleep this way.
"I don't know. I never had a plan."
"Have you ever been to Chile? I've been meaning to go there. We can play tourist together."
The words themselves were neutral, but Nicky could almost hear the vulnerability in his voice. She struggled to prop herself up onto one elbow to look him in the eye. "Are there tourist things to do there?" she asked, brows furrowed. "I don't know much about it."
"So we can explore it together."
She smiled in the face of his boyish grin. "Yeah. We can do that." She lowered herself down over him and settled in to sleep.
"Unexpected." Firefly/Harry Potter, River Tam/Luna, laughter
"Oh. This place doesn't look very nice."
River opened her eyes and looked up blearily at the sound of the voice and the embarrassed laughter afterward. She was alone in her room, and hadn't realized that the Academy was like this. She had thought it was just a school where she could learn. More fool her.
"Are you here to take me to another interview?" she asked, a trace of bitterness in her voice. They weren't letting her dance. They were supposed to let her dance, but all they did was shove physics and physical training at her. There were things in the walls, and she startled at the sound of skittering.
"It's the Borglum," the blonde girl said in a sage tone of voice. Her radish earrings seemed to throw off their own light, and she looked around the bare room. "Yes, this is just the sort of place that Borglum like to inhabit. Dark and cold, no personality whatsoever."
"Who are you?" River asked. Formality was important. Titles were important. Only the most notable heads of state would ever come meet her, if she progressed far enough. Doctor Matthias had been very clear on that point. She had to advance far enough in the program for that. Otherwise, she would never dance again.
"Luna," the girl said, sitting next to her. She laughed a little as she caught River's confused look. "It's all right. I didn't expect to meet anyone I knew either." She jumped to her feet and did a curtsy, laughing at River's stunned expression. Her face fell slightly as she sat back down. "I did a spell to get away from one war. It looks like I'm in the middle of another one."
"What are you talking about? What war?"
"The one for your mind. The Borglum will take it if you're not careful."
River lunged at her. "How did you get in here? How? I need to get out. I need to get out."
"I told you. It was a spell, but I think I said some of the words wrong. I went too far in time." She wriggled beneath River, making her gasp in pleasure. Luna stilled, then looked at her knowingly. "No one touches you, do they?"
"Only to hold me down or run the tests," she said, voice tight. "Aren't you here to take me to one?"
Luna deliberately grasped River's face in hers. "No. I'm not."
River listened to her story of a faraway castle on Earth That Was, with magic and mysteries, prophecies and curses, and a scared boy forced to grow up before his time. "I thought I'd help," Luna said in that same unperturbed tone of voice. "After all, things are just objects. They only gain meaning once you give it to them. So I hoped to find something to give him meaning, to help him on his journey. But I seem to be falling into one problem after another. Perhaps I should go home for hols, talk it over with my father."
Holding onto the strange girl for dear live, River nearly sobbed. "I don't have anyone to take me home. I keep writing to my brother Simon, but he won't come. He's not coming for me."
"Does he know?"
"He has to! I keep telling him to!"
"Then perhaps that's why," Luna told her patiently. "At the castle, letters are screened. Not all of them make it through. What if he's not getting your letters?"
River grasped the meaning right away. "I need to talk in code."
"Precisely. No one ever looks at the edges of things. They look straightforward, all lines and angles and direct paths. Sometimes it's what's out of the corner of your eyes that make the most sense." Luna leaned forward and kissed River gently. "You'll understand. I sense it in you. You don't have magic, not like we do, but you have a magic all your own."
River kissed her again, and somehow it deepened. Somehow this made sense. This was what she needed right then.
Luna stripped her slowly, licking the skin as it was exposed. Luna moved swiftly, moving down to suck on one of River's breasts once she had pulled off the blue uniform. River's mouth opened and a tiny sound of pleasure escaped her lips as Luna's hands stroked farther down. Her long fingers slid into the soft tangle of damp curls, finding River's clit and beginning to stroke it. Her breath fell over River's stomach, her lips hovering just above the skin. "You'll be all right," Luna whispered, almost to herself. "Won't you?"
"I don't know," River said. "I'm trapped here." She made a keening sound as Luna licked a trail from the side of her thigh to her sensitive clit. Luna pulled her hand away, then slowly slid a finger deeply inside River. Then her lips closed around River's clit, tugging gently. River made a cry that sounded almost like a prayer, almost like begging. Luna kept licking at her clit, then dipped her tongue down to taste her slit. "Luna," River whimpered, writhing beneath her mouth.
Luna kept going until River came, tight around her finger and nearly convulsing on the bed. "You're only as trapped as you think you are. Your mind can move beyond convention, beyond the little walls here. They're teaching you the wrong way to think."
River looked up as Luna stood and absently licked her fingers. "You're not staying?"
"This isn't where I need to be," Luna replied with a shrug. "I can't stay. I can't even bring you with me, because I don't know what would happen to you if I brought you with me." Luna knelt and pressed a kiss over River's breast, above where her heart would be. She whispered a few words of vaguely Latin derivation, then kissed the spot again. "There. That's protection against the Borglum."
River wanted to say something else, but Luna took a necklace from around her neck that River hadn't noticed. She broke it, and Luna winked out of sight.
No one believed her the next morning when River reported having an unexpected visitor. They upped her medication instead.
"Assumptions." Firefly, River/Jayne, stranded
The engines cut out not far from the docks at Persephone. It was a scramble to try to get everything fixed before anyone caught wind of them. It wouldn't do to be stranded dirtside with guns pointed at them and no way out of the situation. River had tried to be helpful, but Kaylee's frustration burned along her skin and she could feel the tension in Mal and Zoe. They didn't need her there. They didn't want her there.
River walked beside an empty row of stalls, thoughts turned inward. She didn't realize how far she had walked until Jayne caught her by the arm and spun her around. "Hey, feng le girl. You weren't runnin' out on us, were ya?"
She looked up at him with glassy eyes devoid of emotion. "I give space when others request it. Is that in error?"
Jayne frowned. "Who told ya to go away?"
"They didn't need me."
He sighed and let go of her arm. "So they never said it. You just thought it."
"You think I was incorrect with the assumption?"
"You know what they say about assuming things," Jayne told her in a wise tone.
River blinked in surprise at him. "No," she said, not sure what he was getting at. She tried to think through the dozens of quotes from notable authors she once tried to collect as a child, but nothing came to mind.
"It makes an ass outta you an' me." He grinned at her startled laughter, gratified that she got the joke. "C'mon, moonbrain. Shouldn't go too far from the others, in case one of Mal's enemies gets wind of us all out here stranded."
"You are far more clever than others think you are. Why don't you disabuse them of the notion?"
"Don't got anything to live up to then," Jayne replied with a shrug. He winced inwardly when he realized he had revealed more than he meant to say, but there was no taking back the words. River seemed thoughtful. "What?"
"They see me as damaged. Do I leave them with the assumption? Then there's less for me to live up to as well."
She seemed to grasp the difficulty with that plan right away. Jayne patted River's hand gently. "Don't think it works every time, moonbrain. It don't always work out so good."
River spun around him in a pirouette and then pulled herself up to her tip toes to give him a kiss on the mouth. He sputtered and protested, trying to push her backward. It sent them tumbling into one of the empty stalls. "What in the gorram hell was that for?"
Her smile was sad. "I didn't want you to assume I was a child. I wanted you to see me for what I am."
Jayne frowned at her as he sat up. "Why?"
She touched his lips gently, tracing the edge of them with a nail. "I am no longer a child, a thing you would have to protect. I am woman, with a woman's desires and needs."
It was almost comical to see the way his eyes widened as he made the connection in her words. "But..."
"They still see me as a naughty child to scold. You don't." River cocked her head to the side as she considered. "You are pleasing in some ways, most cantankerous in others. It's an odd combination. I don't understand why I would be drawn to that."
Jayne snorted. "Is that a fancy way of saying opposites attract?"
River smiled. "Not precisely, but that would suffice."
He thought of letting her down gently, saying that she was a Core girl and he didn't know what to do with one of those. He was a rough and tumble sort of man, the kind that met his baser needs and didn't bother with worrying about politics or literature or learning. He had his guns and his knives, let others underestimate his wits and he survived. Core girls needed finery and all those fancy words he didn't know.
"Who's assuming something?" River asked, lips quirked into a smile. She pushed him onto his back, showing him that she was stronger than she looked. She straddled his waist, her hands at his belt. "I have no wish to be anything other than what I have. I have made peace with it, even if others have not."
"You sure it's me you want?" Jayne asked, still not quite sure if he should do anything.
She undid his belt and opened his jeans. "Yes."
He gave up trying to dissuade her when her hands closed over him, when she drew him out of his jeans and into her mouth. He pulled her body so that her hips were over his face, so that he could pull the girlish panties away and bury his lips in her folds. He liked sex; it was one of the things he knew how to do very well, even if it wasn't something he could boast about in pleasant company. True, he wasn't often in pleasant company, but it still wasn't a common topic of conversation.
Going by River's sighs and startled sucks, she enjoyed this particular skill set. He worked her into an orgasm before he pulled back to slide his fingers into her tight heat. River pulled her back to let out a groan, and she pressed her forehead against his groin to ride out the aftershocks. He pumped his fingers hard and fast, until she came again. She seemed limp in his arms, so Jayne repositioned her onto her back. He slid into her, pushing past a barrier and making her cry out in mingled pleasure and pain. He moved fast and rough, her nails scratching at his chest through his T shirt. She writhed, breath rapid, feeling the not-quite-pain deep inside her until Jayne dragged his fingers over her again. That tipped the balance and River whimpered softly, bucking her hips against him. Jayne came in a rush, biting back a shout.
They stared at each other afterward. "Um..." Jayne began, uncertain.
"I would not wish to assume anything by this," River began slowly. "I wish for a repeat, but if you don't..."
"Well, I could do a better job," he began slowly. "Not exactly my best performance, you understand."
Her lips quirked into a slight smile, as if she understood what he was trying not to say. "You have a reputation to uphold."
"Exactly. So... You know. Gotta try again at some point."
"When we're safely in the black and no one will try to shoot at us."
"Yeah. That." Jayne got up and helped her to her feet. "And no telling nobody until we know what's going on. Can't have them thinking the wrong thing."
"Precisely what I was thinking," River replied with a grin. She danced out of the stall, feeling a thousand times better than before and about eight feet tall. "I need to be sure if feeling like this happens every time. Like a scientific experiment. There are too many variables to control for. There might need to be tens of thousands of experiments to perform."
Jayne's lips couldn't help but quirk into a smile at her exuberance; it was an ego boost he hadn't expected to receive that day. "Sounds like a plan. Never say I never did nothing helpful."
River's smile was sweet as she reached out and pulled him closer to her. "I do see you that way, especially recently. The others will someday, too."
He didn't think so, but it was nice of her to assume they would. To round out the unexpectedly good day, the crew was able to leave without getting shot at.
"Acceptance." Pitch Black, Carolyn/Riddick, sunlight
Riddick didn't want a fucking empire to rule. He wanted to be out there, running from mercs and finding new places to exist without having to constantly watch his back. Now that he was something like a king to people of various flavors of undead, he had to actually do shit. He had to be responsible. Fuck.
The entire Necromonger fleet was at his beck and call, and he wanted to get the hell away from everything reminding him of Kira and the preachers and all the people he had foolishly thought he could save. He shouldn't have bothered. People were useless. They died, they fought, they broke. No goddamn use in trusting any one of them. Vaako mentioned some stupid ass planet that was full of sun and sand and the glory of the Necromonger race and some bullshit like that. All he heard was that they had washed over the place like a plague, reducing the populace to Necromongers against their will. There hadn't been enough defense to stop them, and everyone, even the sick in the hospitals, were taken to the conversion chambers.
He looked over the planet, seeing the sandy continents from above the atmosphere. He insisted on landing dirtside. He had to see the place for himself; for a while he thought it looked like Hades, and he was almost convinced he could see bleached bones and cave systems in the shadows from the dunes. But he blinked and it was gone. There was nothing there but sand and Necromonger cities, and his chest felt tight with barely remembered pain.
The Necromongers insisted on parading themselves in front of him. They were like so much meat, and he couldn't even feel a stirring at the thought of hitting the sweet spot and bleeding them out. No challenge. They weren't fighters, and he needed someone to push him past his limits. Riddick had overcome the Necro leaders, and the only one chafing under his rule was Lady Vaao. And really, slitting her throat was probably necessary. He might get a moment's peace from feeling her blood flow across his fingers, but it would be temporary. Vaako might get bitchy if he did that, and he didn't feel like having to kick the man in the teeth just to reassert dominance. Vaako took care of all the minor shit he didn't want to deal with, which left him more time to be angry and feel that prophecies were a pain in the ass.
Riddick's breath stopped at the familiar face in front of him in the reception line. The scent of her was a little bit different, cooler, but it was ultimately still the same smell of beautiful. He breathed in deeply, enough that there was a disturbed look in her eyes. "You're coming with me."
He didn't give a flying fuck that this was a reception in his honor. If he was the goddamn leader, he could leave his own party whenever the hell he fucking felt like it. He slammed the woman against the wall, seeing the breath fly out of her lungs. Her hair was darker now, less blonde, though there were bleached out strands from the overwhelming sunlight on this hellhole of a planet. The scars on her neck were puckered and pale, just as Kira's had been, and she was ghostly white against the black of the formfitting dress she was wearing. She was completely covered, no skin showing, and Riddick couldn't be sure there was recognition in her eyes. Kira had remembered, but he couldn't see it until it was too goddamn late.
"Carolyn," Riddick said in a low voice, seeing her flinch at the name. "So you remember?"
"I need to go," she rasped. "Please, Lord Commander, I need to go..."
He grasped her throat in his hands. He could twist and simply break her neck, sever the spinal cord and watch her drop. Then she would meet her true death, and none of the fucking Necros would be able to do anything else to her. But she would also be dead, truly dead, and he was sick of the dead bodies he was leaving behind.
"How did you survive Hades?" Riddick growled, her slow pulse beneath his hands. Her eyes were wide, terrified, and he could feel his own blood rising in response to it. "Tell me," he commanded, stroking the curve of her throat, knowing just how deep the carotid would be. Arterial blood was so much prettier than venous, and it tasted so much better on his tongue.
"They found the beacon," Carolyn whispered, holding herself so very still. "They fried the demons, they found me, they put me in line." Her eyes slid away from his. "It almost hurt as much as when the creatures tried to gut me."
"Show me."
"Riddick," she pleaded, trying to turn away from him.
"Show me what they did to you," he snarled. He had to see for himself. She wasn't supposed to die for him, wasn't supposed to die at all, and here she was with death beneath her skin. He needed to see to be sure, that he wasn't simply wishing for someone he recognized in this entire empire he hadn't even wanted.
She didn't shake, though he could scent her fear. She didn't like to see the remnants of her old life, didn't like to think about the pain. Carolyn peeled the dress back, exposing herself to the waist for him. She couldn't meet his gaze, even when his hands rested over the mass of twisted tissue in the center of her chest and abdomen. He half turned her, seeing the mirrored scars across her back. Pinned between his massive hands, she seemed fragile. She wasn't the same Carolyn Fry he remembered, the strength of steel in her spine. "What else did the Necros do to you, Carolyn?" he asked, his voice like a blade. He knew knives, she didn't.
"They put me back together," she said, voice toneless and dull. "They gave me a place to live."
"Why here?" he asked. There was something he was missing.
She looked up at him with empty eyes. "I asked for a place with sunlight. I couldn't be trapped in the dark again. So they put me here and made sure I was nowhere near a ship."
"That changes now," Riddick snarled. His mouth crashed down over hers. Fuck, she tasted like the same kind of beautiful. Whatever they did to people to turn them into Necros had muted her scent unless there was strong emotion involved. They'd managed to crush the edges of her spirit, and he wanted to carve out holes of every Necro that was there when it happened to her. He wanted his Carolyn back, the one that met him on Hades and pushed past her fear to get shit done. He wanted this version of Carolyn to shed her skin and become the creature she had been all those years ago, the one that almost made him want to be a different man.
He palmed her breasts and she clutched at his chest. The stupid uniform was all black and silver fabric, stratchy as hell, and he laughed when she pulled it from his skin. Yes. He would bring her back, make her remember who she used to be. This place, this stupid goddamn planet was too much like Hades, a fucking slap in the face every time she woke up. Once she was back in space, back in her element, she would shine.
Riddick pushed the silly Necro dress down from her hips. It slid easily to the floor, and she was bare to him. One nice thing was that Necros didn't do underwear. He lifted her in his hands, seeing the acceptance in her eyes. This was years past due, and he slid home in one sharp thrust. Her nails dug into his back and the breath caught in her chest. "Riddick," she whispered, eyes locked to his. "God, you're really real."
"Did you think I wouldn't come back for you if I knew?"
"You're a survivor," she choked, clutching at his shoulders. Her hips tilted against his as she moved to lock her ankles around his waist. He drove deeper into her, and she made a mewling noise deep in her throat. "I didn't think I mattered that much to you."
"Then fucking think again," he growled, driving himself deep and hard into her. "You're mine, Carolyn. Mine. No one else gets to touch you. I'm the one that tastes you, I'm the one to keep you." He balanced her weight against the wall with one hand and grasped the back of her neck with the other. Her hair was fine and smooth against the fingers he tangled into it. It felt the same, smelled the same. "You belong to me."
She started to shiver in his arms, her breath coming in short gasps. "Riddick," she whimpered, fingers digging into the muscles at his shoulders. "Oh, God, please," she panted.
He thrust into her harder, faster. Her eyes rolled up toward the back of her head and her mouth had fallen open. He claimed it in a rough kiss, tongue in her mouth to taste her. She came, convulsing around him, tremors rolling through her. She wasn't particularly loud, but he suddenly wanted her to be. He wanted the entire fucking hall to know what he thought of their goddamn rituals and parties. Fuck it all, he'd rather have Carolyn on her back beneath him, pushed down on all fours, begging for him. He didn't want an empire to rule. He wanted the thrill of the hunt, the beast within sated only with sex or blood or meat between his teeth, his blades sinking down into the sweet spot, blood gushing in a fine spray.
Riddick came, his body pushing hers almost uncomfortably into the wall. She didn't say anything; she'd lived through worse, and this discomfort was mild in comparison. He'd been gutted once, so he knew the shock and pain that came along with it. He held her hands above her head and pressed his teeth against her pounding pulse in her throat. She didn't struggle against him; she had always been too smart for that shit. He had always been able to physically overpower her. It had been her mind that had drawn him as well as her scent. She was sharp, a survivor as well, but hadn't been honed into a blade as he had. Riddick pressed his teeth into her skin, and she was still beneath his mouth. He sucked at her skin, abraded it with his teeth, and the scent of her rose thick in his mouth.
"You're mine, Carolyn," he said, pulling back. He had marked her neck, and he felt a rush of pride at the sight of it. He drew his fingertips across it and watched her shiver under his touch. Her eyes were alive again, not the empty soulless things the Necros had pushed onto her.
"And what's the cost of being yours?" she asked, a fine edge to her voice.
God, she was fucking beautiful and that voice was back. He wanted to fuck her again.
"You've already paid it," Riddick growled, pushing his clothes back into place. "Now I get you off this goddamn hellhole."
"Where are you hiding me next?" There was bitterness in her voice, something else that he didn't know about the years before this day. Oh, he would break heads and pull spines out of backs for this. He would skin the Necros that tried to break her, put them up as warning not to pull this shit with anyone else. He would cut a swath through their ranks, spill all the blood they'd taken against everyone's will.
Riddick merely grinned at her, eyes shining in the half light. It wasn't a kind smile, and she met it fearlessly. She had already lived through the worst pain the universe had to offer, and knew nothing could compare to it. He loved that kind of look.
"I own these assholes," he said, voice milder than his shark's smile. "I don't need to hide anything. You're with me, aren't you?"
Carolyn's eyes assessed his face, weighing something in her mind. He would dig deep at some point, uncover the missing years and break the fuckers that tried to change who she was. He would know who put that kind of caution into her. "I'm with you."
Riddick palmed the back of her skull, a sense of peace rolling through him. "You know how to fly, Carolyn. I'm going to give you a ship. We're going to break them all, piece by piece."
There was something fierce in her sudden grin, something that warmed Riddick. Their attempts to break her had changed her, but he was wrong about what had changed. He had thought they had broken her, or tried to soften the edges of her. Now he could see that she had simply been biding her time, pushing the hate and pain down deep, waiting for a good time to strike. She was like their captured Furyan, waiting for the moment she could try to undermine their belief.
"I'm glad you found me, then."
"Me, too," Riddick growled, then claimed her mouth in a possessive kiss. Suddenly being master of the Necromonger empire was much more desirable.
"Trying Something New." Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, slow, shiver, experimenting
"You sure you want to try this?" Ginny asked softly, fingers sliding across Draco's skin. "We don't have to. I wouldn't think any less of you."
"I said I would try," Draco replied, lying face down on the bed. Her touch was maddening, avoiding everything sensitive he wanted her to touch. Back and forth her fingers ran, across his skin and lighting a fire in his veins. He tried to keep himself still as she had asked, but it was so hard to do. He wanted to move, he wanted to speed things up, he wanted more.
Of course, she wasn't giving it. She was kneeling between his spread legs, her touch feather light. He wasn't pinned to the bed by anything but his own willpower, and he thought about letting go. He thought about turning over, of pulling her beneath him and fucking her hard, never mind this game they were trying tonight. But he had promised to do whatever she wanted tonight. He had knelt in front of her, eyes shining in the face of that slow, sensuous smile she had given him, and he had known he would promise her anything she wanted. It was like seeing her for the first time, feeling himself fall under her spell all over again. It was that smile that promised him more, if only he would be good. It was the smile that helped him fall in love with her, with the life she had held out for him like a prized gift.
And oh, it had truly been a gift. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he was infinitely grateful to her for helping him find a home.
Finally, finally, her fingers found him. He was pressed against the bed, hard and thick and waiting for her touch. Wordless magic pushed a pillow beneath his hips, lifting him toward her hands. They were slicked, making it easier for her to slide inside him. She taunted him, one slim finger moving slowly against tight muscle. Ginny pressed her lips to the rise of his ass, feeling him shudder and shiver beneath her lips.
"You have to be good for me, Draco," she purred. "If you're good, you get to come."
"Merlin, yes," he breathed, eyes squeezed shut as she slid her finger further in.
She'd heard about this from a friend of hers, and Draco had thought that they were crazy. But Ginny was curious, and he was willing to try just about anything with her.
Maybe they weren't so crazy after all.
She moved slowly, so slowly, stroking his length with one hand as she wiggled her finger inside of him. His breath was rapid and shallow, the sensation much more pleasurable than he thought it would be. She moved too slowly, each touch too drawn out. He tried shifting his hips back toward her hand, trying to deepen the strokes. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, and he could feel her smile against his skin. "I take it you like this after all."
"Ginny," he moaned softly. He pulled at the sheets in his fists desperately. "Ginny..."
She slid a second slicked finger into him, keeping the same slow rhythm. Draco let out a keening noise, bringing a fist to his mouth. "No, Draco," she said softly, running her tongue along the skin of his lower back. "Let me hear you."
He moaned and writhed beneath her hand, pushing back at intervals to try to get her to speed up. When she finally did, he was nearly howling with need, shivering at every touch. He came across the sheets, his body slack as he collapsed into the bed.
"I take it you liked that," Ginny said with a laugh. Casting wandless cleaning charms, she crawled up beside him. "Nice thing to try, hm?"
Draco laughed shakily. "Never thought I would, but yeah." He turned over and pulled her on top of him. "But you didn't come yet."
"You do realize my mother will watch the kids overnight?" Ginny asked, eyebrow arched. Draco merely blinked in surprise. "I might've mentioned that we had plans for our anniversary, and she was more than happy to help us out."
Draco grinned and ran his fingers through her hair. "So I get to play with you, now?"
"Mum will bring them back after lunch tomorrow. Think it's enough time?"
"It's a start," he whispered, pulling her down for a kiss.