Forbidden Fruit
Rating: R
Pairing: GD/OC, implied GTOP?
Summary: Jiyong has a visitor.
Warning: sex, blood and a little crazy.
A/N: I wanted crazy, and I think I got it.
I miss your arms around me, the hot whispers of empty promises dripping from your lips. I miss dragging my fingers through your hair as you swear a rainbow into mine, exhaling curses until you're too spent to say a thing. I miss marking you with crescents big and small, kissing you insane and smudging you with the crimson you love love love...
Your pony-pink hair gives you away, much as you try to hide it under a flashy cap as you emerge from your manager's car. You trudge into the lift with nary a glance behind - you never were a great one for looking back. Forward, onward, next, better - these were all the mantras of your existence. You don't know what it means to already possess the best, you're always far too busy creating better. Oh, you had no idea, baby, that you already owned the best, even as it sat in the palm of your hand.
Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve... you're removing your shoes, your socks, that jacket I hate.
Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine, the glass of water in the kitchen, the computer comes on. Shower's running and the music's on.
Another twenty-two and the fingers are on the lock: six, six, four, two, oh sing for me, lock, cos I am home sweet home.
You're such a sweet darling, I notice the apple that's left in the fridge - the kind you know I like, redder than red and more metallic than sweet. Red wine's not your thing - I figure he must have been here. It's fine, really, love, I just wish you would've said.
The sheets are rumpled on the bed, the stench of a stranger. I don't wish to know why you let him touch the damn bed, you should keep the help's hands to himself but ah - I digress. Allow me to show him how beds should be made. Oh - this piece of plastic - time after work should be spent carelessly and mobile phones don't help you relax. I'll take care of that. Lights way too bright, not good for the eyes.
The music is new; you work too hard, dear. Try listening to a little violin prelude.
The water's gone off in the shower, my dear - I can hear you awaken in the tub and splash out of it. Grab a towel, that's right, and come to the door - what're you staring at, love? We're not strangers at all.
The colour's in your face now, your smiling eyes wide. Don't yell at me, love - the phone's gone downstairs. It's been a while, isn't it, we need to catch up. Sure, you can dress, don't go out of sight. The white shirt that I like, and that thong your fans sent. Pants don't look good in this outfit, I'm afraid I really must object.
I'll cut up the apple, I've taken it out - you must have a piece, since we share everything. You watch me pare it, poor dear, you look pale. A little apple will help keep the doctor away. The silvery glint looks good on your skin, the metal reflects light into your eyes. There's a good boy now, go on, eat it up. Be careful, don't bite down and get cut on the knife.
Darling, I've missed you - now what's that you say? You thought the same way? Who're you kidding this time? I laugh when you insist, you're good at these jokes. The apple is done now, it fits in your mouth. Close them sweet lips, child - you'll thank me later.
The water in the bath is fast turning cold, maybe we shouldn't waste too much time. Get in, my love, scrub yourself clean. The fingerprints of fornication do not become you. I know the bottle ain't yours, but really who is to know? Alcohol helps to decontaminate, but doesn't it look prettier this way, swirls in the sink? The burgundy curls round your new defined abs, it's ruining that shirt, but you still look so hot. Just tracing your lines gets me so hot it's obscene: the high flat plain of your forehead joins the sharp dash of your jaw, the cut of your nose narrows into that furrow surmounting those maddening lips. They part as if scalded by the cold metal blade, oh love - this unshaven chin that I have missed on my skin. Focus now, watch the arch of this throat, look how this soft yielding spot divides the long straight avenue of clavicle.
The shirt's in the way - my silver friend unbuttons well. Oops, we'll have to resew that one. I like your composure. Let's take east to the starred dragonball, marking the roundabout that leads to the arms. Hmm, this fabric is thin, doesn' t hold up too well? A little slip and it's all come apart.
Don't. Touch. It.
I'm sorry, love - did that hurt? Oh, see what you made me do... it will fade in a bit, don't worry, your pretty lily face is still beautiful as a flower. I never said I wanted it off. Just down far enough, just so, over your wrists, and a knot. Now that knot... Where were we? Oh yes... These biceps don't lie, but time has faded the moderato that marks the spot I like to hold when you lean all flushed over me... it's nice to see you have the grace to blush at the memory. Look at me, my love - do you remember?
A palm down your torso, scattering buttons as it goes, and I have my answer - you remember the hot sweaty nights up till dawn, the warm sticky length of your dragonstaff inside me. You're coy now, head shaking No's even as it wakes in my hand, begging release from the fabric and craving my touch.
Not so fast will I relieve its suffering, suffocating, salivating. Only like this will you come to understand the kind of thirst you have imposed on me erstwhile. Instead my fingernails down its length force your head to snap back, your body jerks as a moan escapes. It echoes on the tile, comes back to haunt you, the ghosts of sensual sighs returned from memory. The serrated edge of the knife is such sweet torture as it frisks an attentive nipple, and if you're good I will grant you the pleasure of my tongue.
Please, you gasp, hands seeking behind your back, rewardless. The flexing becomes you, it does, all the rippling against the stained white of the shirt in the hellishly hued water like one of those photoshoots you do.
Kiss me, darling - a little tongue tango never hurt anybody...
Ssssstt! Fuck you, Kwon Jiyong - you never knew what was good for you, my love. Not then, and certainly not now. Ptui - a lady never spits, but today will have to be an exception. Wipe that glitter out of your eyes, loverboy. It's you who always manages to make me into a monster that I'm not.
You love to look at yourself, don't you? Look now, go on - watch me cut you out of this little piece of silk, just here. Oh, these heavy velvet balls of seed, smooth to the touch, hiding the button that gives full control. A little soft press, and look at your face, lost in a world of pleasure as I work my hands roundupdown, aroundupdown, upupandarounddownupdown. Look in the mirror, darling, your custombuilt full wall mirror, see your little pants for breath as you mewl with my every bite!
Look, like plum blossoms the blood blooms under the skin, getting lost among the inky scrawls you like on your skin. Will it bleed black if I scratch you just here? That expression I know - the pleasure, the pain - no gain without pain, wasn't that what you said? The blood tastes better than the apple we shared, and your head lolls back in excruciating ecstasy as my tongue traces the tear I've made across your clavicle. You're the real forbidden fruit, honey, the one they all crave.
You're pleading now, what's that you say? Have you changed your mind? I'll remove the apple if you have... what's this? You're asking me to end this and stop driving you crazy. Crazy is a great place to be, I inform you in your ear, and the drive there is a lovely journey I'm only too pleased to escort you on. Dear my love, I hold your hair tight, there is only one problem. You're not begging me right.
Fuck, you moan.
Slap.
No.
Slap.
Please. Please, dear.
What?
Please make me come, love, take me to crazy, I'll do anything - anything.
Anything?
Anything.
Use your teeth now, my darling, get this off me. Now lick me, love, lave me, don't stop - ah that's right my lov-
I swore to God I would bury you myself - and I will, God help me, bury you to the hilt in my gushing starving self. You're bucking now, straining, asking wordlessly for more, hurrying me, unsettling me, unseating me from you...
A sharp reminder who's in charge here - the blood spills fast and I lick quickly, mmhmm. I'm sorry, beautiful, this one will scar. I palm the cheek now marred in wine-red, your tears are coursing down, a wonderful blend of salt and metal in my mouth. Hush love, don't cry - and you're unintelligible now, muttering curses, choking sobs, expelling an agony of sexual angst that leaves your throat raw.
The blade looks good on your throat, serrations abrading in long jagged lines as we rock frantically, questing ever fasterhigherdeeperlonger to remember perfection, perfection as we knew it, before you ruined it, before you cast it aside. You're screaming now, the blood surfacing, your hardness thrusting uncontrollably, relentlessly into my core. The top of your length is throbbing, slick, forcibly butting the pleasure centre bundled inside me to abandon, a reckless pulsating abandon...
And then in a split second we're there, bright against the cream canvas, drops of preciousness consuming the blade like a succubus freed. Your rainbow hair pales in comparison, and your eyes are clamped so tightly shut you probably see stars. There is blood all over as I arch up against you, and you're praying, or cursing God, or both, I don't know.
Jiyong-ah... Open your eyes, look at me... those chapped lips dry and bloodless... I colour them in with a stained fingertip - there, looks better.
You've been naughty, Jiyong-ah. Don't you think so?
The red lips make a yes.
Never again, love.
Never...
is the last word. I'm not sure who collapses first - but we're locked together and you're smiling at me and our perfection is complete.
Pairing: GD/OC, implied GTOP?
Summary: Jiyong has a visitor.
Warning: sex, blood and a little crazy.
A/N: I wanted crazy, and I think I got it.
I miss your arms around me, the hot whispers of empty promises dripping from your lips. I miss dragging my fingers through your hair as you swear a rainbow into mine, exhaling curses until you're too spent to say a thing. I miss marking you with crescents big and small, kissing you insane and smudging you with the crimson you love love love...
Your pony-pink hair gives you away, much as you try to hide it under a flashy cap as you emerge from your manager's car. You trudge into the lift with nary a glance behind - you never were a great one for looking back. Forward, onward, next, better - these were all the mantras of your existence. You don't know what it means to already possess the best, you're always far too busy creating better. Oh, you had no idea, baby, that you already owned the best, even as it sat in the palm of your hand.
Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve... you're removing your shoes, your socks, that jacket I hate.
Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine, the glass of water in the kitchen, the computer comes on. Shower's running and the music's on.
Another twenty-two and the fingers are on the lock: six, six, four, two, oh sing for me, lock, cos I am home sweet home.
You're such a sweet darling, I notice the apple that's left in the fridge - the kind you know I like, redder than red and more metallic than sweet. Red wine's not your thing - I figure he must have been here. It's fine, really, love, I just wish you would've said.
The sheets are rumpled on the bed, the stench of a stranger. I don't wish to know why you let him touch the damn bed, you should keep the help's hands to himself but ah - I digress. Allow me to show him how beds should be made. Oh - this piece of plastic - time after work should be spent carelessly and mobile phones don't help you relax. I'll take care of that. Lights way too bright, not good for the eyes.
The music is new; you work too hard, dear. Try listening to a little violin prelude.
The water's gone off in the shower, my dear - I can hear you awaken in the tub and splash out of it. Grab a towel, that's right, and come to the door - what're you staring at, love? We're not strangers at all.
The colour's in your face now, your smiling eyes wide. Don't yell at me, love - the phone's gone downstairs. It's been a while, isn't it, we need to catch up. Sure, you can dress, don't go out of sight. The white shirt that I like, and that thong your fans sent. Pants don't look good in this outfit, I'm afraid I really must object.
I'll cut up the apple, I've taken it out - you must have a piece, since we share everything. You watch me pare it, poor dear, you look pale. A little apple will help keep the doctor away. The silvery glint looks good on your skin, the metal reflects light into your eyes. There's a good boy now, go on, eat it up. Be careful, don't bite down and get cut on the knife.
Darling, I've missed you - now what's that you say? You thought the same way? Who're you kidding this time? I laugh when you insist, you're good at these jokes. The apple is done now, it fits in your mouth. Close them sweet lips, child - you'll thank me later.
The water in the bath is fast turning cold, maybe we shouldn't waste too much time. Get in, my love, scrub yourself clean. The fingerprints of fornication do not become you. I know the bottle ain't yours, but really who is to know? Alcohol helps to decontaminate, but doesn't it look prettier this way, swirls in the sink? The burgundy curls round your new defined abs, it's ruining that shirt, but you still look so hot. Just tracing your lines gets me so hot it's obscene: the high flat plain of your forehead joins the sharp dash of your jaw, the cut of your nose narrows into that furrow surmounting those maddening lips. They part as if scalded by the cold metal blade, oh love - this unshaven chin that I have missed on my skin. Focus now, watch the arch of this throat, look how this soft yielding spot divides the long straight avenue of clavicle.
The shirt's in the way - my silver friend unbuttons well. Oops, we'll have to resew that one. I like your composure. Let's take east to the starred dragonball, marking the roundabout that leads to the arms. Hmm, this fabric is thin, doesn' t hold up too well? A little slip and it's all come apart.
Don't. Touch. It.
I'm sorry, love - did that hurt? Oh, see what you made me do... it will fade in a bit, don't worry, your pretty lily face is still beautiful as a flower. I never said I wanted it off. Just down far enough, just so, over your wrists, and a knot. Now that knot... Where were we? Oh yes... These biceps don't lie, but time has faded the moderato that marks the spot I like to hold when you lean all flushed over me... it's nice to see you have the grace to blush at the memory. Look at me, my love - do you remember?
A palm down your torso, scattering buttons as it goes, and I have my answer - you remember the hot sweaty nights up till dawn, the warm sticky length of your dragonstaff inside me. You're coy now, head shaking No's even as it wakes in my hand, begging release from the fabric and craving my touch.
Not so fast will I relieve its suffering, suffocating, salivating. Only like this will you come to understand the kind of thirst you have imposed on me erstwhile. Instead my fingernails down its length force your head to snap back, your body jerks as a moan escapes. It echoes on the tile, comes back to haunt you, the ghosts of sensual sighs returned from memory. The serrated edge of the knife is such sweet torture as it frisks an attentive nipple, and if you're good I will grant you the pleasure of my tongue.
Please, you gasp, hands seeking behind your back, rewardless. The flexing becomes you, it does, all the rippling against the stained white of the shirt in the hellishly hued water like one of those photoshoots you do.
Kiss me, darling - a little tongue tango never hurt anybody...
Ssssstt! Fuck you, Kwon Jiyong - you never knew what was good for you, my love. Not then, and certainly not now. Ptui - a lady never spits, but today will have to be an exception. Wipe that glitter out of your eyes, loverboy. It's you who always manages to make me into a monster that I'm not.
You love to look at yourself, don't you? Look now, go on - watch me cut you out of this little piece of silk, just here. Oh, these heavy velvet balls of seed, smooth to the touch, hiding the button that gives full control. A little soft press, and look at your face, lost in a world of pleasure as I work my hands roundupdown, aroundupdown, upupandarounddownupdown. Look in the mirror, darling, your custombuilt full wall mirror, see your little pants for breath as you mewl with my every bite!
Look, like plum blossoms the blood blooms under the skin, getting lost among the inky scrawls you like on your skin. Will it bleed black if I scratch you just here? That expression I know - the pleasure, the pain - no gain without pain, wasn't that what you said? The blood tastes better than the apple we shared, and your head lolls back in excruciating ecstasy as my tongue traces the tear I've made across your clavicle. You're the real forbidden fruit, honey, the one they all crave.
You're pleading now, what's that you say? Have you changed your mind? I'll remove the apple if you have... what's this? You're asking me to end this and stop driving you crazy. Crazy is a great place to be, I inform you in your ear, and the drive there is a lovely journey I'm only too pleased to escort you on. Dear my love, I hold your hair tight, there is only one problem. You're not begging me right.
Fuck, you moan.
Slap.
No.
Slap.
Please. Please, dear.
What?
Please make me come, love, take me to crazy, I'll do anything - anything.
Anything?
Anything.
Use your teeth now, my darling, get this off me. Now lick me, love, lave me, don't stop - ah that's right my lov-
I swore to God I would bury you myself - and I will, God help me, bury you to the hilt in my gushing starving self. You're bucking now, straining, asking wordlessly for more, hurrying me, unsettling me, unseating me from you...
A sharp reminder who's in charge here - the blood spills fast and I lick quickly, mmhmm. I'm sorry, beautiful, this one will scar. I palm the cheek now marred in wine-red, your tears are coursing down, a wonderful blend of salt and metal in my mouth. Hush love, don't cry - and you're unintelligible now, muttering curses, choking sobs, expelling an agony of sexual angst that leaves your throat raw.
The blade looks good on your throat, serrations abrading in long jagged lines as we rock frantically, questing ever fasterhigherdeeperlonger to remember perfection, perfection as we knew it, before you ruined it, before you cast it aside. You're screaming now, the blood surfacing, your hardness thrusting uncontrollably, relentlessly into my core. The top of your length is throbbing, slick, forcibly butting the pleasure centre bundled inside me to abandon, a reckless pulsating abandon...
And then in a split second we're there, bright against the cream canvas, drops of preciousness consuming the blade like a succubus freed. Your rainbow hair pales in comparison, and your eyes are clamped so tightly shut you probably see stars. There is blood all over as I arch up against you, and you're praying, or cursing God, or both, I don't know.
Jiyong-ah... Open your eyes, look at me... those chapped lips dry and bloodless... I colour them in with a stained fingertip - there, looks better.
You've been naughty, Jiyong-ah. Don't you think so?
The red lips make a yes.
Never again, love.
Never...
is the last word. I'm not sure who collapses first - but we're locked together and you're smiling at me and our perfection is complete.