Fic: Gyfu (Elena/Tseng, not worksafe)
This is sort of an AU from two different directions. Shameless, shameless, shameless.
Gyfu
The submission fills him with heavy warmth like fur.
FFVII, Elena/Tseng. 500 words.
NC-17/MA/Not Worksafe. Mild bloodplay. AU.
Her skin's still almost white in the halflight from the streetlamps outside, but Tseng can see the color leaking back in along Elena's cheekbones. He doesn't want to move. He very much doesn't want to move -- he wants to lie quite still in case she needs more -- but it's the strength of that desire that prompts him to override it, as much as he can. He manages to sit up, but that's as far as he makes it before the lassitude settles in stronger than he can fight. A little trickle of blood wends its way over his heart. He catches it on a fingertip and draws the rune gyfu with it on his stomach.
Elena puts a hand on his hip and draws him down to the bed again. Her mouth is wet and red, and her eyes are red, too, and faintly shining. No wonder she started wearing sunglasses almost as often as Rude. "Come here," she says, languorous, satisfied. "I wouldn't hurt you."
He suspects it's the truth. The bite itself -- it would be a lie to say it hadn't hurt, but by the time they'd reached that point it had been a hurt he longed for, wanted even more desperately than orgasm. His cock stirs just thinking about it, and Elena smiles, presses herself against his back, runs her fingers down his stomach to take him in hand. "Don't worry so much," she breathes in his ear. She's cool to the touch but warming now that her belly is full of his blood. "I know the secret. I know Reno's got fire blood and Rude's half-berserkr and you're runewise. Now I'm one of you."
She's right, of course, and it's not as bad as it could be -- all three of them have a better chance of resisting her thrall than a normal human; that's what the team is there for, to protect the Company against supernatural threats, just as the ulfhethnar protect it from physical threats -- but still it frightens him, the way her voice slithers under his skin, the way he sees her licking the blood from her teeth and wants to be bitten again, again, again. She smiles, giddy, and he realizes that this is of course new to her, too, for she has been one of the thorn only for the space of a few days -- and he has been runewise for many years. He makes the choice, then, to relax into her thrall and her touch, the liquid smoothness of her body against his back, her hand on his cock, the razorblade pleasure of her teeth grazing his shoulder. The submission fills him with heavy warmth like fur. He puts his hand over gyfu where it has dried on his stomach, and arches his back, and feels the prickle of her teeth on his throat again as he comes again, bright behind closed eyes.
He could not leave if he tried, but he does not try.
Gyfu
The submission fills him with heavy warmth like fur.
FFVII, Elena/Tseng. 500 words.
NC-17/MA/Not Worksafe. Mild bloodplay. AU.
Her skin's still almost white in the halflight from the streetlamps outside, but Tseng can see the color leaking back in along Elena's cheekbones. He doesn't want to move. He very much doesn't want to move -- he wants to lie quite still in case she needs more -- but it's the strength of that desire that prompts him to override it, as much as he can. He manages to sit up, but that's as far as he makes it before the lassitude settles in stronger than he can fight. A little trickle of blood wends its way over his heart. He catches it on a fingertip and draws the rune gyfu with it on his stomach.
Elena puts a hand on his hip and draws him down to the bed again. Her mouth is wet and red, and her eyes are red, too, and faintly shining. No wonder she started wearing sunglasses almost as often as Rude. "Come here," she says, languorous, satisfied. "I wouldn't hurt you."
He suspects it's the truth. The bite itself -- it would be a lie to say it hadn't hurt, but by the time they'd reached that point it had been a hurt he longed for, wanted even more desperately than orgasm. His cock stirs just thinking about it, and Elena smiles, presses herself against his back, runs her fingers down his stomach to take him in hand. "Don't worry so much," she breathes in his ear. She's cool to the touch but warming now that her belly is full of his blood. "I know the secret. I know Reno's got fire blood and Rude's half-berserkr and you're runewise. Now I'm one of you."
She's right, of course, and it's not as bad as it could be -- all three of them have a better chance of resisting her thrall than a normal human; that's what the team is there for, to protect the Company against supernatural threats, just as the ulfhethnar protect it from physical threats -- but still it frightens him, the way her voice slithers under his skin, the way he sees her licking the blood from her teeth and wants to be bitten again, again, again. She smiles, giddy, and he realizes that this is of course new to her, too, for she has been one of the thorn only for the space of a few days -- and he has been runewise for many years. He makes the choice, then, to relax into her thrall and her touch, the liquid smoothness of her body against his back, her hand on his cock, the razorblade pleasure of her teeth grazing his shoulder. The submission fills him with heavy warmth like fur. He puts his hand over gyfu where it has dried on his stomach, and arches his back, and feels the prickle of her teeth on his throat again as he comes again, bright behind closed eyes.
He could not leave if he tried, but he does not try.