Fic: Cold (Final Fantasy VIII; Seifer/Rinoa)
Title: Cold
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Rinoa
Author: CelticDream
Recipient: Gramse
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, BDSM (wrist bondage, breast/nipple torture), serious consent issues
Summary: There might be something to that saying that revenge is best served cold.
He has been watching her for three weeks now, getting to know the pattern. She doesn't leave Garden often-rumour has it she and Leonhart have shared quarters, which caused quite a stir with the other cadets, and that she's wearing a ring on her left hand. Still, at least twice a week, she goes into Balamb to go shopping, ever the princess.
He doesn't wait outside the gates of Garden; it would be obvious and he really doesn't want to waste his time making excuses to the cadets on guard duty. Nor does he wait outside Balamb, where she would have room to run; he's spent far too long planning this bit of revenge to have it ruined by chance. Instead, he lingers in the shopping district, inside a coffee shop. They serve good coffee here, and the waitress has got over her habit of watching him out of the corner of her eye as though she expects him to instigate a full-scale slaughter.
His usual waitress isn't here today, which is just as well; the new girl doesn't know him so well, and probably wouldn't remember the blond guy in a simple T-shirt and jeans, wearing a cap pulled low over his brow to hide his scar. He orders his coffee and a slice of pound cake, and settles into a table by the window instead of his usual haunt in the corner. The cake is rich and sweet on his tongue. He'd missed that, in the world-to-be; Ultimecia's tastes had run to spicy foods and little in the way of sweets, and the servitors either couldn't comprehend his requests or were under orders to ignore them. Ultimecia hadn't treated her Knight well after she'd taken him through time to her castle.
He finishes his snack and leaves money on the table, neither a generous tip nor a stingy one, and strolls outside and off toward the west side of town. Half a block away, he doubles back and lurks in an alley just east of the shop Rinoa had entered ten minutes before. She never changes her pattern; the shoe store first, and then two different clothing stores, finally ending at a little tea house near the high school and heading home to Balamb Garden. He's well known around this part of town, and he knows it well himself. In fact, his apartment isn't three blocks from here.
Twenty minutes later, she strolls out of the shoe store, surprisingly empty-handed. He pulls her into the alley with him, flinging first a handful of Sleep Powder at her and then a dose of Silence Powder for good measure, and she folds into his arms.
It's easy to dodge through the alleyways on the way to his apartment; she hardly weighs anything even now, and there are few people about to see them. He carries her up the stairs and into his apartment, sets her on his bed, and makes sure to bolt the door. It's a matter of a few moments to strip her out of her clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. He pulls her arms above her head and snaps the handcuffs around her wrists, tugging lightly to be sure it's securely fastened. He has no intention of her escaping him before he's through.
He sits back and studies her, noting how she's built up some muscle since he was last this close to her. The rest of her is much the same, though; narrow hips and small, firm breasts and long, long legs. He sits back and smirks a little, waiting for the fun to begin.
By now the Sleep Powder is wearing off, and he can tell she's been paying attention in her SeeD classes; apart from one split second of panic when her eyes first open, she goes still and starts observing the room without even turning her head. Her gaze lands on him at the same moment she realizes she's naked and bound, and he smells ozone on the air and feels the relentless beat of magic rising, shaping itself into a burning thrust. Her lips shape the word of power, but no sound emerges, and the magic falls apart in a stinging whirlwind.
"Now that," Seifer says, "is a relief. Should've thought of that when we were dating."
She half-turns to face him, almost vibrating with tension. She's putting on a brave face, but her eyes give her away. Having a sorceress at his mercy, rather than the other way around, is giving him one hell of a rush.
He moves slowly, rising to his feet and stripping off the T-shirt. She's shivering now, and that fact makes it slightly more challenging to shed the jeans and boxers. He steps toward her, still slow-what point in rushing it, when Leonhart's not expecting her back for a few hours and she looks so damn good scared like this?-and just studies her, going from her face, pale with fright, moving all the way down to her feet and back up. She shifts awkwardly, trying to cover herself, and the handcuffs clink against the headboard.
He takes another step, now right next to the bed. She's trying to speak, but thanks to the Silence Powder, that's impossible. He trails a light caress over her cheek, down the side of her neck and along her collarbone. She shivers. He does it again, and watches with a faint smile as her nipples start to stand up. He circles the edge of her breast with his fingertips, and her eyes half-close.
"I wondered if that had changed," he says, his fingertips moving in lazy circles across her skin, drawing ever nearer to her nipples. "How sensitive you are." His fingertips brush her nipple, and he knows she would moan if she has voice for it. She is shaking her head, mouthing no, and yet she responds to him.
"Do you like being a sorceress, Rinoa? Do you like having Squally-boy as your slave, forced to be obedient to your every whim?"
She is frowning now, confused. He tugs at her nipple to make her arch up, and it feels so good to have her at his mercy. "Ultimecia liked it," he says. "She loved having a toy she could mind-rape any time she damn well felt like it." He pinches, hard, and watches her eyes squeeze shut, vehemently shaking her head and struggling against the cuffs, but her legs hardly move. He squeezes harder, and she pulls violently at the cuffs, to no avail. "Oh, come on now, Rinoa. You could do better than that if you wanted to." His free hand moves to her other breast, pinching that nipple just as hard and twisting. She twists under his hands, which only makes her predicament worse, and there are tears at the corners of her eyes now. He releases her, and she goes limp in relief. He waits ten calculated seconds, counting them off in his head, before he squeezes her breast, his nails digging into her skin, and makes her twist again.
"You're just as bad as she was," he tells her, one hand pressing against her sternum to force her to lie back on the bed while he plays with her. The way she's thrashing makes him hard, and despite her struggles, when he releases her nipple she arches up toward him again. The magic starts to build around him, sharp tingles on his skin and a feel like the fierce sea winds during a storm.
"Rinoa," he chides. "If you really wanted me to stop, you would make me."
She turns her face away, tears sliding slow down her cheeks, and the magic fades. Without the magic-laced syllables to give it form, her power is nothing. She is helpless, and that is exactly what he wants.
His hands on her thighs are not gentle as he spreads her legs, kneeling between them. She stares at him, shaking her head once more, but as his fingers slip between her folds she is slick and hot. He strokes her clit lightly, fingers probing the way he remembers she likes, and as she arches into his hand with a shudder, he turns the caress into a sharp pinch, and laughs at the shock on her face.
"Last chance to say no," he says, fingers teasing once again, making her lift her hips toward him. "What'll it be, princess?"
She doesn't answer, of course, but she has ceased trying to fight him. He is rough with her, and it is fast and hard. She's hot and tight around him, and though she turns her face away, she still moves with him, fast and reckless, just as they used to in Timber before....well, before.
Resistant or no, she is panting and writhing beneath him when he comes, and he slumps over her for a moment, hearing her short, quick breaths and feeling her tremble. She hasn't come, and if she had her voice, she'd be making those tiny mewling sounds, sharp and frantic.
He moves off her and picks up her dress to wipe himself clean. He throws the dress across her body, adding the rest of her clothes to it, and unlocks the handcuffs. As she stares at him in blank confusion, he walks to the door. "Get dressed," he says curtly.
He walks into the common room. Some five minutes later, she emerges from his bedroom, her head bowed. He can see that her eyes are red and there are tear-marks on her face, and he doesn't care.
"Just like her," he says quietly. "A whore."
She tries to muster up a glare, but he can see that her legs are still wobbly. At long, long last, the part of him that was coiled tight in resentment has eased. He smirks and crosses the room to open the door. She walks through it slowly, in the same badly-animated-puppet way she first came to him under Ultimecia's control.
"Rinoa." She turns in the hallway to face him, and he throws an Echo Screen at her, then slams the door.
Her sobbing grows fainter as she walks away.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Rinoa
Author: CelticDream
Recipient: Gramse
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, BDSM (wrist bondage, breast/nipple torture), serious consent issues
Summary: There might be something to that saying that revenge is best served cold.
He has been watching her for three weeks now, getting to know the pattern. She doesn't leave Garden often-rumour has it she and Leonhart have shared quarters, which caused quite a stir with the other cadets, and that she's wearing a ring on her left hand. Still, at least twice a week, she goes into Balamb to go shopping, ever the princess.
He doesn't wait outside the gates of Garden; it would be obvious and he really doesn't want to waste his time making excuses to the cadets on guard duty. Nor does he wait outside Balamb, where she would have room to run; he's spent far too long planning this bit of revenge to have it ruined by chance. Instead, he lingers in the shopping district, inside a coffee shop. They serve good coffee here, and the waitress has got over her habit of watching him out of the corner of her eye as though she expects him to instigate a full-scale slaughter.
His usual waitress isn't here today, which is just as well; the new girl doesn't know him so well, and probably wouldn't remember the blond guy in a simple T-shirt and jeans, wearing a cap pulled low over his brow to hide his scar. He orders his coffee and a slice of pound cake, and settles into a table by the window instead of his usual haunt in the corner. The cake is rich and sweet on his tongue. He'd missed that, in the world-to-be; Ultimecia's tastes had run to spicy foods and little in the way of sweets, and the servitors either couldn't comprehend his requests or were under orders to ignore them. Ultimecia hadn't treated her Knight well after she'd taken him through time to her castle.
He finishes his snack and leaves money on the table, neither a generous tip nor a stingy one, and strolls outside and off toward the west side of town. Half a block away, he doubles back and lurks in an alley just east of the shop Rinoa had entered ten minutes before. She never changes her pattern; the shoe store first, and then two different clothing stores, finally ending at a little tea house near the high school and heading home to Balamb Garden. He's well known around this part of town, and he knows it well himself. In fact, his apartment isn't three blocks from here.
Twenty minutes later, she strolls out of the shoe store, surprisingly empty-handed. He pulls her into the alley with him, flinging first a handful of Sleep Powder at her and then a dose of Silence Powder for good measure, and she folds into his arms.
It's easy to dodge through the alleyways on the way to his apartment; she hardly weighs anything even now, and there are few people about to see them. He carries her up the stairs and into his apartment, sets her on his bed, and makes sure to bolt the door. It's a matter of a few moments to strip her out of her clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. He pulls her arms above her head and snaps the handcuffs around her wrists, tugging lightly to be sure it's securely fastened. He has no intention of her escaping him before he's through.
He sits back and studies her, noting how she's built up some muscle since he was last this close to her. The rest of her is much the same, though; narrow hips and small, firm breasts and long, long legs. He sits back and smirks a little, waiting for the fun to begin.
By now the Sleep Powder is wearing off, and he can tell she's been paying attention in her SeeD classes; apart from one split second of panic when her eyes first open, she goes still and starts observing the room without even turning her head. Her gaze lands on him at the same moment she realizes she's naked and bound, and he smells ozone on the air and feels the relentless beat of magic rising, shaping itself into a burning thrust. Her lips shape the word of power, but no sound emerges, and the magic falls apart in a stinging whirlwind.
"Now that," Seifer says, "is a relief. Should've thought of that when we were dating."
She half-turns to face him, almost vibrating with tension. She's putting on a brave face, but her eyes give her away. Having a sorceress at his mercy, rather than the other way around, is giving him one hell of a rush.
He moves slowly, rising to his feet and stripping off the T-shirt. She's shivering now, and that fact makes it slightly more challenging to shed the jeans and boxers. He steps toward her, still slow-what point in rushing it, when Leonhart's not expecting her back for a few hours and she looks so damn good scared like this?-and just studies her, going from her face, pale with fright, moving all the way down to her feet and back up. She shifts awkwardly, trying to cover herself, and the handcuffs clink against the headboard.
He takes another step, now right next to the bed. She's trying to speak, but thanks to the Silence Powder, that's impossible. He trails a light caress over her cheek, down the side of her neck and along her collarbone. She shivers. He does it again, and watches with a faint smile as her nipples start to stand up. He circles the edge of her breast with his fingertips, and her eyes half-close.
"I wondered if that had changed," he says, his fingertips moving in lazy circles across her skin, drawing ever nearer to her nipples. "How sensitive you are." His fingertips brush her nipple, and he knows she would moan if she has voice for it. She is shaking her head, mouthing no, and yet she responds to him.
"Do you like being a sorceress, Rinoa? Do you like having Squally-boy as your slave, forced to be obedient to your every whim?"
She is frowning now, confused. He tugs at her nipple to make her arch up, and it feels so good to have her at his mercy. "Ultimecia liked it," he says. "She loved having a toy she could mind-rape any time she damn well felt like it." He pinches, hard, and watches her eyes squeeze shut, vehemently shaking her head and struggling against the cuffs, but her legs hardly move. He squeezes harder, and she pulls violently at the cuffs, to no avail. "Oh, come on now, Rinoa. You could do better than that if you wanted to." His free hand moves to her other breast, pinching that nipple just as hard and twisting. She twists under his hands, which only makes her predicament worse, and there are tears at the corners of her eyes now. He releases her, and she goes limp in relief. He waits ten calculated seconds, counting them off in his head, before he squeezes her breast, his nails digging into her skin, and makes her twist again.
"You're just as bad as she was," he tells her, one hand pressing against her sternum to force her to lie back on the bed while he plays with her. The way she's thrashing makes him hard, and despite her struggles, when he releases her nipple she arches up toward him again. The magic starts to build around him, sharp tingles on his skin and a feel like the fierce sea winds during a storm.
"Rinoa," he chides. "If you really wanted me to stop, you would make me."
She turns her face away, tears sliding slow down her cheeks, and the magic fades. Without the magic-laced syllables to give it form, her power is nothing. She is helpless, and that is exactly what he wants.
His hands on her thighs are not gentle as he spreads her legs, kneeling between them. She stares at him, shaking her head once more, but as his fingers slip between her folds she is slick and hot. He strokes her clit lightly, fingers probing the way he remembers she likes, and as she arches into his hand with a shudder, he turns the caress into a sharp pinch, and laughs at the shock on her face.
"Last chance to say no," he says, fingers teasing once again, making her lift her hips toward him. "What'll it be, princess?"
She doesn't answer, of course, but she has ceased trying to fight him. He is rough with her, and it is fast and hard. She's hot and tight around him, and though she turns her face away, she still moves with him, fast and reckless, just as they used to in Timber before....well, before.
Resistant or no, she is panting and writhing beneath him when he comes, and he slumps over her for a moment, hearing her short, quick breaths and feeling her tremble. She hasn't come, and if she had her voice, she'd be making those tiny mewling sounds, sharp and frantic.
He moves off her and picks up her dress to wipe himself clean. He throws the dress across her body, adding the rest of her clothes to it, and unlocks the handcuffs. As she stares at him in blank confusion, he walks to the door. "Get dressed," he says curtly.
He walks into the common room. Some five minutes later, she emerges from his bedroom, her head bowed. He can see that her eyes are red and there are tear-marks on her face, and he doesn't care.
"Just like her," he says quietly. "A whore."
She tries to muster up a glare, but he can see that her legs are still wobbly. At long, long last, the part of him that was coiled tight in resentment has eased. He smirks and crosses the room to open the door. She walks through it slowly, in the same badly-animated-puppet way she first came to him under Ultimecia's control.
"Rinoa." She turns in the hallway to face him, and he throws an Echo Screen at her, then slams the door.
Her sobbing grows fainter as she walks away.