Fic: Heartbeat (Rayne/Rip van Winkle)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sex, some bloodplay. Vampirism.
Notes: Rip is hellbornhuntrss, and used with general permission but not specific approval. Prompt from this image (not really SFW).
Summary: “You’re a vampire again,” he says, softly, realizing.
“Of course,” she says, and draws a long, shallow cut down his back.
~*~
Rayne is awakened by something thin and sharp tracing down his spine.
He goes from asleep to alert in second, tensing -
“Stay still,” admonishes Rip’s voice, from above him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, right back, shifting up a little.
Her hand presses him back down into the bed. “I said, stay still,” firmer, this time.
Rayne consciously relaxes, resting his chin down on his hands. He’d ask her how she got in, but that’s probably pointless. He’ll find a busted door, a broken window later - or maybe she bent herself up a key or something. Or just stole it.
Her hand continues its journey down his back. Nails, he thinks. Those’re her nails -
“Ow,” and he can feel the thin trail of blood trickling down his ribs.
Rip’s hand leaves his skin. “Aah,” he can hear her sigh, in delight. Something wet touches his back - cold, and - and, well, it licks up the trail of spilled blood.
“You’re a vampire again,” he says, softly, realizing.
“Of course,” she says, and draws a long, shallow cut down his back.
He flinches, hissing, but her hand holds him down, steady, and she lingers a little, this time, pressing a kiss to his now-marked skin.
“Okay,” says Rayne, a little shakily, uncomfortably aware of how this is affecting him, and definitely not in a bad way, “I think we need to go with the ground rule of ‘no permanent damage’, all right?”
“I would not damage you,” says Rip.
“That’s good to hear,” and he inhales, sharply, at the next slice, between his shoulder blades.
Rip pauses. “I like that noise,” she decides. “You should do it again.”
“Yeah?” breathes Rayne. “Make me.”
She settles down over him, her breasts brushing against his back. “I take that as a challenge!” she says, with delight, and laps up the blood. Her free hand slips down under him, ghosting along his ribs.
Rayne twitches, ticklish, with a “hey,” but she just snickers in his ear.
Affectionately.
Then her hand wraps around his erection, and all thought flees. He bites down on his wrist, tensing, trying to regulate his breathing.
“That is the way to attack,” she tells him. “Go directly for the most vital area.”
Rayne half-laughs. “Nice strategy - oh,” and a hard exhale, shifting up a little against her.
“Almost,” considers Rip. “But not quite.”
She pulls back, urging him over onto his back - which he obeys, a little gingerly. The shallow cuts appear to be just that, though - shallow - and not bleeding anymore, thanks to that handy trick of Rip’s.
Okay, then.
He tackles her, rolling her down to the bed underneath him. Slides down between her legs and kisses her, in a kiss that’s apart as much as it is together, little sips of air in between teases of skin on skin.
She reaches up and pulls him down, then, kissing him hard, forceful, and -
And, well, he really can’t have her fast enough.
The remainder of clothing is torn free, between equally rough kisses - though Rayne is, at the least, a little hesitant, considering those very-present fangs of hers - and then it’s a tussle, to see who ends up on top. Because the violence doesn’t disappear just because they’re sleeping together; no, it’s just transformed. It’s not against the bond, it’s a part of it.
Rip rolls to the top, pinning Rayne beneath her, and he laughs, breathless, and a little rueful. Used to be he could win easily, but now when she wins, it’s not really him letting her, anymore.
“Rip,” he says, softly. Not quite a plea.
With a smirk, she reaches down and guides him into her, in one swift stroke; Rayne inhales, through clenched teeth, and her smirk widens into a grin. “That was what I wanted to hear,” she says. “Not so hard, was it?”
Rayne’s hand skims up her back. Guides her down, and he kisses her, lets her go, feels her spine curve as she settles down, inhales against his neck.
Rayne can’t help the spark of adrenaline, the instant of fear - fear that she’d bite, that she’d kill him, only to wait until he comes alive again.
“So you do know you’re playing with fire,” she muses. “I like that.”
And they were filled with urgency, even as little as a minute ago, but now it’s all stillness, all lingering. She enjoys Rayne’s vulnerability, and he - he doesn’t mind that she takes such relish in it, because that he can understand. And if he can understand it, then he can withstand the corresponding thrill inside him.
“If you won’t move, then I will,” he says, and he manages to flip them over again, muscles cording, briefly, under pale skin. He noses against her neck, and bites, hard, even relishing the pain as her nails dig into his back.
And Rayne has never enjoyed a process that could scar him quite as much as he does now.
It’s a different feel than when she’s human. Cooler, obviously, but also - different. A little less alive, in some unfathomable sort of way. But it’s still her, and she’s the one he wants, even the violence.
Especially the violence.
And his eyes clench shut at the feel of her pleasure, his hand moving to cover her fingers, wrapped around the back of his neck. He barely lasts past that, letting it utterly subsume him.
In the quiet moment after, her hand slides down to his jaw and he turns, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
Then, minutes later, she’s snug against his side, fingers periodically seeking his heartbeat. He’s beyond tired, beyond finding that creepy enough to object. He’s just silent, absent of even his usual sarcasm, as she licks over the pulse in his neck. Almost possessively, like she’s protecting it.
And that’s how he falls asleep again. Just like that.
Warnings: Explicit sex, some bloodplay. Vampirism.
Notes: Rip is hellbornhuntrss, and used with general permission but not specific approval. Prompt from this image (not really SFW).
Summary: “You’re a vampire again,” he says, softly, realizing.
“Of course,” she says, and draws a long, shallow cut down his back.
~*~
Rayne is awakened by something thin and sharp tracing down his spine.
He goes from asleep to alert in second, tensing -
“Stay still,” admonishes Rip’s voice, from above him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, right back, shifting up a little.
Her hand presses him back down into the bed. “I said, stay still,” firmer, this time.
Rayne consciously relaxes, resting his chin down on his hands. He’d ask her how she got in, but that’s probably pointless. He’ll find a busted door, a broken window later - or maybe she bent herself up a key or something. Or just stole it.
Her hand continues its journey down his back. Nails, he thinks. Those’re her nails -
“Ow,” and he can feel the thin trail of blood trickling down his ribs.
Rip’s hand leaves his skin. “Aah,” he can hear her sigh, in delight. Something wet touches his back - cold, and - and, well, it licks up the trail of spilled blood.
“You’re a vampire again,” he says, softly, realizing.
“Of course,” she says, and draws a long, shallow cut down his back.
He flinches, hissing, but her hand holds him down, steady, and she lingers a little, this time, pressing a kiss to his now-marked skin.
“Okay,” says Rayne, a little shakily, uncomfortably aware of how this is affecting him, and definitely not in a bad way, “I think we need to go with the ground rule of ‘no permanent damage’, all right?”
“I would not damage you,” says Rip.
“That’s good to hear,” and he inhales, sharply, at the next slice, between his shoulder blades.
Rip pauses. “I like that noise,” she decides. “You should do it again.”
“Yeah?” breathes Rayne. “Make me.”
She settles down over him, her breasts brushing against his back. “I take that as a challenge!” she says, with delight, and laps up the blood. Her free hand slips down under him, ghosting along his ribs.
Rayne twitches, ticklish, with a “hey,” but she just snickers in his ear.
Affectionately.
Then her hand wraps around his erection, and all thought flees. He bites down on his wrist, tensing, trying to regulate his breathing.
“That is the way to attack,” she tells him. “Go directly for the most vital area.”
Rayne half-laughs. “Nice strategy - oh,” and a hard exhale, shifting up a little against her.
“Almost,” considers Rip. “But not quite.”
She pulls back, urging him over onto his back - which he obeys, a little gingerly. The shallow cuts appear to be just that, though - shallow - and not bleeding anymore, thanks to that handy trick of Rip’s.
Okay, then.
He tackles her, rolling her down to the bed underneath him. Slides down between her legs and kisses her, in a kiss that’s apart as much as it is together, little sips of air in between teases of skin on skin.
She reaches up and pulls him down, then, kissing him hard, forceful, and -
And, well, he really can’t have her fast enough.
The remainder of clothing is torn free, between equally rough kisses - though Rayne is, at the least, a little hesitant, considering those very-present fangs of hers - and then it’s a tussle, to see who ends up on top. Because the violence doesn’t disappear just because they’re sleeping together; no, it’s just transformed. It’s not against the bond, it’s a part of it.
Rip rolls to the top, pinning Rayne beneath her, and he laughs, breathless, and a little rueful. Used to be he could win easily, but now when she wins, it’s not really him letting her, anymore.
“Rip,” he says, softly. Not quite a plea.
With a smirk, she reaches down and guides him into her, in one swift stroke; Rayne inhales, through clenched teeth, and her smirk widens into a grin. “That was what I wanted to hear,” she says. “Not so hard, was it?”
Rayne’s hand skims up her back. Guides her down, and he kisses her, lets her go, feels her spine curve as she settles down, inhales against his neck.
Rayne can’t help the spark of adrenaline, the instant of fear - fear that she’d bite, that she’d kill him, only to wait until he comes alive again.
“So you do know you’re playing with fire,” she muses. “I like that.”
And they were filled with urgency, even as little as a minute ago, but now it’s all stillness, all lingering. She enjoys Rayne’s vulnerability, and he - he doesn’t mind that she takes such relish in it, because that he can understand. And if he can understand it, then he can withstand the corresponding thrill inside him.
“If you won’t move, then I will,” he says, and he manages to flip them over again, muscles cording, briefly, under pale skin. He noses against her neck, and bites, hard, even relishing the pain as her nails dig into his back.
And Rayne has never enjoyed a process that could scar him quite as much as he does now.
It’s a different feel than when she’s human. Cooler, obviously, but also - different. A little less alive, in some unfathomable sort of way. But it’s still her, and she’s the one he wants, even the violence.
Especially the violence.
And his eyes clench shut at the feel of her pleasure, his hand moving to cover her fingers, wrapped around the back of his neck. He barely lasts past that, letting it utterly subsume him.
In the quiet moment after, her hand slides down to his jaw and he turns, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
Then, minutes later, she’s snug against his side, fingers periodically seeking his heartbeat. He’s beyond tired, beyond finding that creepy enough to object. He’s just silent, absent of even his usual sarcasm, as she licks over the pulse in his neck. Almost possessively, like she’s protecting it.
And that’s how he falls asleep again. Just like that.