Entry tags:
FIC: You and I (M'ways
TITLE: You and I
FOR:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silverpenlight
FANDOM: Milliways
PAIRING: Maladict(a)/Ajedrez, Sands/Ajedrez, Sands/Maladict(a)
RATING: R/NC-17
WORDS: 2, 807
NOTES: This is a 2nd/1st person fic, written in a semi-stream of consciousness style while being rather smutty. If any of those things don't float your boat, don't read.
You and I
It starts with alcohol, where else? Alcohol and obsession as you lie there on my bed, drinking and bitching and don’t mind me, honey, I’m just watching you. The thing is…the thing is he is away, isn’t it? And we have nothing to do. Not that I’m faithful, never think that. Not even loyal. Just possessive, and he’s gone so I’m possessionless (care to step in his place, sweetness) and you are obsessionless and where else can we gather in (secrecy) safety?
And maybe I like watching you.
You see, I can remember things, things and memories that I stole from him. I remember the way you arch your back when he kiss(ed)es you there, I remember the way your lips press in anger and I remember I remember I remember.
I remember the way you bite your bottom lip, just like that, honey, and you gaze out with dark eyes from under dark lashes in a face darkened with shadow and sun. I remembered the sound of your voice before ever we met and you screamed at him…
I do wonder why. Why, why, why did you, pretty little thing, why did you lovehimleavehimbetrayhim...giggle, that is the word. Yes, why did you giggle, little princess and do you know that he calls me that now? No, well, I’m not going to tell you. You look too damned good, curled like some hunting cat at the head of my head. Exotic, because we don’t have people like you where I come from. Not with all that brown skin and hair and those dark eyes…oh, we do have people like that, but not that caste of your face. Not with your nose and lips. Lovely lips, I remember how he kissed them and the things you did with that luscious mouth…
Okay, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but, oh honey, look at the way you blush. I didn’t think you could, whore. Princesswhoresluttraitor but you still look damned good, curled on my bed. No, don’t leave and do you know what my mother told me? She told me to look, look at her all over and let your eyes linger. And when she notices, look into her eyes and then you’ll know if she wants you and so I’m looking. I’m looking at you, just you with all those tousled brown curls and large dark eyes and I’m meeting those gorgeous eyes and I think you want me. Why, I haven’t got a fucking clue. Him, maybe, curious to see what attracted him to my bed after yours (you pushed him out first, whore, just remember that, okay) and keeps him there and maybe something. Maybe a curiosity and a drunkenness and you were just telling me about your gods. Blame all those countless ones for alcohol and drugs, and blame whatwashername ah yes, Tlaelquani and Tlazoltéotl, darkness and sex and carnality and I am a vampire, and all of that, but I do not think you mind. I remember things, after all, and sharing a bed with him is very interesting. And you shared it for two years, so certain things must be the same. Certain things so come here, honey. Come on, come closer and let me bury my fingers in that glorious, beautiful hair of yours (it’s wasted on you), let me twist and pull you down to my level to where I can do this. Kiss you. Press my lips against yours and slide my tongue between them, twine with yours as you open your mouth underneath (above) mine warm and wet and soft, so soft I’d half forgotten so thank you for reminding me.
No, don’t go. I’m not going to let you, got me hot and bothered, whore. Pretty little thing…one of a kind, honey? Sweetness and honey and the bitterness of blood and spice. Don’t go, honey, I’m not going to let you and lets get that top off you. Run my fingers up the silky fabric, start at the bottom and work my way up as I kiss you. Your mouth your cheek your jaw your skin your neck let me suck just here, suck and tongue and nip just over your pulse as my fingers work, work, work.
Close your eyes, little girl, and trust me.
Trust me, I breathe against your heated skin and you laugh. You damn well laugh that husky laugh that got him so turned you and gods I can see why it just goes straight down doesn’t it, that laugh. Nice laugh, but don’t laugh at me, whore. Really. Don’t. Not likely, you say and you smile as I snarl. Drunk, drunk, drunk and when did I start repeating myself? Lets see how you smile when I do this, hmm? Will you smile as I trace patterns with my nails against your silky skin and satiny scar will you smile as I slide my fingers down below the waistband of your jeans, down below the elastic of your underwear and smile all you like, honey, but thing is our bodies can’t lie and yours is begging for me begging me to do this and that and I twist and rub you gasp and arch your back your neck eyes wide and staring as I murmur things into your skin and push you back to the bed. Stumble back on those heels and only the bed saves you (now isn’t that a thought) so brace yourself against it, curl those long brown musiciankiller fingers of yours in my sheets as my own clever white ones make you moan.
Don’t think I can’t hear you.
So it’s my turn to laugh because I’m winning and you didn’t know this was a battle, did you? Poor innocent little girl, with her jeans pulled down to her knees as I pull out and don’t think I didn’t hear that whimper of protest that I drew from your throat. Don’t worry, it’ll become clear as I kiss my way down, down your neck and collarbone and the swell of your breasts thanks to that lovely plum-coloured bra that does nothing to hide that I’m turning you on turned you on. Hot and bothered, sweetness, just little old me making all your composure and stillness vanish as my tongue skirts your belly-button and lower, lower down so I can taste you on my tongue and make your head fall back against your shoulders so all those brown tangledcurls dance down your back and stick to your curves with sweat and did he make you moan like this, did he make you crave his tongue like this or his fingers long and talented but so’s my tongue, honey, I draw you out on the fire between your legs and as your fingers twist and clench the sheets all bunched up and didn’t you know that I made it this morning and as you do that, moan and whimper and whisper si si sisi ay dios no pares and it’s not a loving curse but a fucking one, a hateful fucking curse as you say over and over puta no pares bitch don’t stop that’s nice I hate you too because he still fucking loves you so let me fuck you (up) draw you out call for your god said you were straight, honey, you don’t look so straight now. Just curves, brown and beautiful and you know I think I’ll stop just so I can look up the line of your body between your breasts and down your neck and your breath is a broken thing, broken and trying to fly and your face is flushed with blood and anger and lust pure naked and wanting. Puta, you say, fucking bitch why
My knees hurt and I want to laugh at your expression so I do. I didn’t expect the slap but maybe I should have from the scars and look in your eyes (and he was and he is right, you really are a terrible liar) that says don’t fuck with me but I did and I am and no one slaps me you little lying traitor so I get to my feet jump to my feet and dance with grace (modesty happens to other people) and grab you. Neck and shoulder and your hands are up, fingers circling my wrist and others digging into my waist as I stare into your eyes hot and dark as hell with all the sin and lust that rages there.
Bitch. Whore, and I kiss you again. Angry things, both of us, is that why he likes us I’ll never ask and neither will you. You don’t kiss back but your lips are bruised. Run my thumb over your swollen lower lip and you draw it into your hot, wet mouth. You watch me, you beautiful girl, as you bite down with white, white teeth and I don’t even yelp draw my blood, it’s on your tongue and this time you kiss me back. I can taste my blood, can you taste yourself in my mouth and maybe this time I groan and press myself closer, thigh slipping between yours and I pull you up and push you down the bed’s meant for two, after all. Stupid fucking jeans don’t worry, maybe I’ll buy you a new pair. Underwear you can get yourself, but leave those boots. Long and sleek and black, zip them up and my fingers run around the rim of your stocking no garters, strange girl and you shake your head not fair, chica, all these clothes of yours and your fingers tighten on my shirt hard enough to rip from the neck down and I’ll be generous, it’ll be no extra cost to see the muscles working underneath that silky skin of yours no additional charge to hear that sharp long rip and I shrug it off my shoulders even as your fingers move to the bindings on my chest that bind my breasts close because I hate those fucking underwire nightgowns you try being me, inky black tresses and snow white death skin and blood red lips vampire succubus it means submit, you mutter as your nails nip and catch on my skin.
Not fucking likely.
Snow white skin, white as death without the blue or grey and you’re a splash of colour against me, all that brown skin and hands as they run down my body to my waist and you pull me down so I have to brace myself on the bed next to your shoulders pull your hair but neither of us mind. Succubus, demon, traitorous bitch and it’s a hating endearment on my tongue as I kiss your neck and I can feel the vibrations in your throat as you say in your quiet little husky voice only he gets to call me that, little girl. I’m not, I’m not god I hate it when you call me that as I’m not gentle as I pin you down and bite your neck not hard, not that hard, not enough to puncture and kill you in sex and blood but hard enough to make you moan and you like this don’t you I thought you might you were his lover too. You move beneath me, shifting your hips and your legs closer closer closer it’s a prayer on those damnably kissable lips and I can’t help it but do just that, kiss them and you as your legs wrap around mine and move your pelvis and wickedly curved hips I’ve got you now, begging for me with voice and body. Stain my pants but they are black, it doesn’t matter and your hands, they don’t flutter like other girls’, they run down my body, down my breasts brush and cup and you run your nails down my skin so I tighten my fingers in your strangle-vine hair (it creeps and crawls and spreads all over my nice clean sheets) and you move and writhe and it’s let me up, let me up i want i want
what
you
i win
fuck you
just say please, bitch
por favor, por favor, please
You move and writhe and shove and flip me over to the side slide above me with your slick, slick skin and hungry mouth yes yes oh god yes conquest of you of me in this bed and battle as you run your hand down my body down below and under my belt. I moan and groan and gasp and you’ve done this before with those fingers, haven’t you on yourself and it’s oh oh oh as you brush my wetness with your knuckles, rough and teasing kiss my neck and watch me wriggle and squirm with my fingers in the pillow and around the cold metal of the head of the bed where you curled like a cat now stretched out and stretching me out line of white fire running through my body touch me, please, anywhere there I don’t care but you are playing me like a harp, a guitar, cellist you whisper in my ear in a husky little giggle like when he was writhing and screaming and that makes it worse it’s all darkness and sex as you rub and twist and slip a finger in, one two three, in and out play against that spot with the delicacy of an artist like I give a fuck just please and I can feel you watching me with those heavy-lidded eyes and secret smile kiss me fuck me oh bésame you whisper with your lips above mine so I have to reach up and pull you down and dig my hand into your thick curls to hold you there. Plunder your mouth with my tongue, ravage it and moan in it moan and groan I’m dying just just just
just
there
there
there
your mouth swallows my wordless cry as I clutch and cling to you riding the waves of pleasure and desire rolling up and down and through my body and haven’t you heard that an orgasm is like a little death? My head falls back and my eyes fall shut as my unbeating heart dances in my ribcage with the rhythm of your blood. You watch me, smiling, then you move with the languor of a cat, a big cat, lioness tiger (ride the tiger and laugh at my wit) leopard, something large and boneless and beautiful in that dangerous longtotouch way and you part my knees kneel between them my legs ride up around your hips and you lean forward, intent and beautiful like some kind of battle-scared and sex-marked goddess as you run the tips of your fingers down my skin and I can feel the difference between left and right and right and wrong one side swollen and damp from me, just me. Witch, sorceress bitch (because I still hate you for what you did to him) and I follow your fingers up like I’m nothing but a puppet play me like a doll, darling, and I’ll kill you in blood and laughter. Twisting limbs, tangled limbs and you can’t help but laugh as we try and sort ourselves out and maybe neither can I so I’m giggling as I end up straddling your lap and framing your face in my white dead hands. We stare at each other and I can’t tell what you are thinking, terrible liar that you are, and you’re staring back with large dark eyes that are the colour of living mahogany and you are so beautiful so fucking beautiful why doesn’t he remember it? I slide my hand up into your hair, and curl my arm around your neck and shoulders and we’ll just stop here, catch our breaths as we breathe in each other’s breath and try and say that ten times quickly. I twist my head a little, kiss your nose, your lips as
the
door
opens.
Who would come here, my room and his and he was away but oh my as I twist and turn and stare with too-wide eyes and I open my mouth and can’t say a thing. I’m not faithful, I’m not loyal, I’m just possessive but it’s like a dog smelling another dog on the owner’s hands only no one owns him oh, oh, oh shit and that’s when you laugh. Low and quiet and husky as you toss your head and give him a smile and speak in a quiet voice heavy with sex and desire and oh, I can’t believe you just said that, I can’t believe you just asked, oh I can’t I can’t…and I look at him and I look at you and I can’t help but giggle because how does a man answer this?
“Sands, honey, care to join us?”
FOR:
silverpenlightFANDOM: Milliways
PAIRING: Maladict(a)/Ajedrez, Sands/Ajedrez, Sands/Maladict(a)
RATING: R/NC-17
WORDS: 2, 807
NOTES: This is a 2nd/1st person fic, written in a semi-stream of consciousness style while being rather smutty. If any of those things don't float your boat, don't read.
It starts with alcohol, where else? Alcohol and obsession as you lie there on my bed, drinking and bitching and don’t mind me, honey, I’m just watching you. The thing is…the thing is he is away, isn’t it? And we have nothing to do. Not that I’m faithful, never think that. Not even loyal. Just possessive, and he’s gone so I’m possessionless (care to step in his place, sweetness) and you are obsessionless and where else can we gather in (secrecy) safety?
And maybe I like watching you.
You see, I can remember things, things and memories that I stole from him. I remember the way you arch your back when he kiss(ed)es you there, I remember the way your lips press in anger and I remember I remember I remember.
I remember the way you bite your bottom lip, just like that, honey, and you gaze out with dark eyes from under dark lashes in a face darkened with shadow and sun. I remembered the sound of your voice before ever we met and you screamed at him…
I do wonder why. Why, why, why did you, pretty little thing, why did you lovehimleavehimbetrayhim...giggle, that is the word. Yes, why did you giggle, little princess and do you know that he calls me that now? No, well, I’m not going to tell you. You look too damned good, curled like some hunting cat at the head of my head. Exotic, because we don’t have people like you where I come from. Not with all that brown skin and hair and those dark eyes…oh, we do have people like that, but not that caste of your face. Not with your nose and lips. Lovely lips, I remember how he kissed them and the things you did with that luscious mouth…
Okay, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but, oh honey, look at the way you blush. I didn’t think you could, whore. Princesswhoresluttraitor but you still look damned good, curled on my bed. No, don’t leave and do you know what my mother told me? She told me to look, look at her all over and let your eyes linger. And when she notices, look into her eyes and then you’ll know if she wants you and so I’m looking. I’m looking at you, just you with all those tousled brown curls and large dark eyes and I’m meeting those gorgeous eyes and I think you want me. Why, I haven’t got a fucking clue. Him, maybe, curious to see what attracted him to my bed after yours (you pushed him out first, whore, just remember that, okay) and keeps him there and maybe something. Maybe a curiosity and a drunkenness and you were just telling me about your gods. Blame all those countless ones for alcohol and drugs, and blame whatwashername ah yes, Tlaelquani and Tlazoltéotl, darkness and sex and carnality and I am a vampire, and all of that, but I do not think you mind. I remember things, after all, and sharing a bed with him is very interesting. And you shared it for two years, so certain things must be the same. Certain things so come here, honey. Come on, come closer and let me bury my fingers in that glorious, beautiful hair of yours (it’s wasted on you), let me twist and pull you down to my level to where I can do this. Kiss you. Press my lips against yours and slide my tongue between them, twine with yours as you open your mouth underneath (above) mine warm and wet and soft, so soft I’d half forgotten so thank you for reminding me.
No, don’t go. I’m not going to let you, got me hot and bothered, whore. Pretty little thing…one of a kind, honey? Sweetness and honey and the bitterness of blood and spice. Don’t go, honey, I’m not going to let you and lets get that top off you. Run my fingers up the silky fabric, start at the bottom and work my way up as I kiss you. Your mouth your cheek your jaw your skin your neck let me suck just here, suck and tongue and nip just over your pulse as my fingers work, work, work.
Close your eyes, little girl, and trust me.
Trust me, I breathe against your heated skin and you laugh. You damn well laugh that husky laugh that got him so turned you and gods I can see why it just goes straight down doesn’t it, that laugh. Nice laugh, but don’t laugh at me, whore. Really. Don’t. Not likely, you say and you smile as I snarl. Drunk, drunk, drunk and when did I start repeating myself? Lets see how you smile when I do this, hmm? Will you smile as I trace patterns with my nails against your silky skin and satiny scar will you smile as I slide my fingers down below the waistband of your jeans, down below the elastic of your underwear and smile all you like, honey, but thing is our bodies can’t lie and yours is begging for me begging me to do this and that and I twist and rub you gasp and arch your back your neck eyes wide and staring as I murmur things into your skin and push you back to the bed. Stumble back on those heels and only the bed saves you (now isn’t that a thought) so brace yourself against it, curl those long brown musiciankiller fingers of yours in my sheets as my own clever white ones make you moan.
Don’t think I can’t hear you.
So it’s my turn to laugh because I’m winning and you didn’t know this was a battle, did you? Poor innocent little girl, with her jeans pulled down to her knees as I pull out and don’t think I didn’t hear that whimper of protest that I drew from your throat. Don’t worry, it’ll become clear as I kiss my way down, down your neck and collarbone and the swell of your breasts thanks to that lovely plum-coloured bra that does nothing to hide that I’m turning you on turned you on. Hot and bothered, sweetness, just little old me making all your composure and stillness vanish as my tongue skirts your belly-button and lower, lower down so I can taste you on my tongue and make your head fall back against your shoulders so all those brown tangledcurls dance down your back and stick to your curves with sweat and did he make you moan like this, did he make you crave his tongue like this or his fingers long and talented but so’s my tongue, honey, I draw you out on the fire between your legs and as your fingers twist and clench the sheets all bunched up and didn’t you know that I made it this morning and as you do that, moan and whimper and whisper si si sisi ay dios no pares and it’s not a loving curse but a fucking one, a hateful fucking curse as you say over and over puta no pares bitch don’t stop that’s nice I hate you too because he still fucking loves you so let me fuck you (up) draw you out call for your god said you were straight, honey, you don’t look so straight now. Just curves, brown and beautiful and you know I think I’ll stop just so I can look up the line of your body between your breasts and down your neck and your breath is a broken thing, broken and trying to fly and your face is flushed with blood and anger and lust pure naked and wanting. Puta, you say, fucking bitch why
My knees hurt and I want to laugh at your expression so I do. I didn’t expect the slap but maybe I should have from the scars and look in your eyes (and he was and he is right, you really are a terrible liar) that says don’t fuck with me but I did and I am and no one slaps me you little lying traitor so I get to my feet jump to my feet and dance with grace (modesty happens to other people) and grab you. Neck and shoulder and your hands are up, fingers circling my wrist and others digging into my waist as I stare into your eyes hot and dark as hell with all the sin and lust that rages there.
Bitch. Whore, and I kiss you again. Angry things, both of us, is that why he likes us I’ll never ask and neither will you. You don’t kiss back but your lips are bruised. Run my thumb over your swollen lower lip and you draw it into your hot, wet mouth. You watch me, you beautiful girl, as you bite down with white, white teeth and I don’t even yelp draw my blood, it’s on your tongue and this time you kiss me back. I can taste my blood, can you taste yourself in my mouth and maybe this time I groan and press myself closer, thigh slipping between yours and I pull you up and push you down the bed’s meant for two, after all. Stupid fucking jeans don’t worry, maybe I’ll buy you a new pair. Underwear you can get yourself, but leave those boots. Long and sleek and black, zip them up and my fingers run around the rim of your stocking no garters, strange girl and you shake your head not fair, chica, all these clothes of yours and your fingers tighten on my shirt hard enough to rip from the neck down and I’ll be generous, it’ll be no extra cost to see the muscles working underneath that silky skin of yours no additional charge to hear that sharp long rip and I shrug it off my shoulders even as your fingers move to the bindings on my chest that bind my breasts close because I hate those fucking underwire nightgowns you try being me, inky black tresses and snow white death skin and blood red lips vampire succubus it means submit, you mutter as your nails nip and catch on my skin.
Not fucking likely.
Snow white skin, white as death without the blue or grey and you’re a splash of colour against me, all that brown skin and hands as they run down my body to my waist and you pull me down so I have to brace myself on the bed next to your shoulders pull your hair but neither of us mind. Succubus, demon, traitorous bitch and it’s a hating endearment on my tongue as I kiss your neck and I can feel the vibrations in your throat as you say in your quiet little husky voice only he gets to call me that, little girl. I’m not, I’m not god I hate it when you call me that as I’m not gentle as I pin you down and bite your neck not hard, not that hard, not enough to puncture and kill you in sex and blood but hard enough to make you moan and you like this don’t you I thought you might you were his lover too. You move beneath me, shifting your hips and your legs closer closer closer it’s a prayer on those damnably kissable lips and I can’t help it but do just that, kiss them and you as your legs wrap around mine and move your pelvis and wickedly curved hips I’ve got you now, begging for me with voice and body. Stain my pants but they are black, it doesn’t matter and your hands, they don’t flutter like other girls’, they run down my body, down my breasts brush and cup and you run your nails down my skin so I tighten my fingers in your strangle-vine hair (it creeps and crawls and spreads all over my nice clean sheets) and you move and writhe and it’s let me up, let me up i want i want
what
you
i win
fuck you
just say please, bitch
por favor, por favor, please
You move and writhe and shove and flip me over to the side slide above me with your slick, slick skin and hungry mouth yes yes oh god yes conquest of you of me in this bed and battle as you run your hand down my body down below and under my belt. I moan and groan and gasp and you’ve done this before with those fingers, haven’t you on yourself and it’s oh oh oh as you brush my wetness with your knuckles, rough and teasing kiss my neck and watch me wriggle and squirm with my fingers in the pillow and around the cold metal of the head of the bed where you curled like a cat now stretched out and stretching me out line of white fire running through my body touch me, please, anywhere there I don’t care but you are playing me like a harp, a guitar, cellist you whisper in my ear in a husky little giggle like when he was writhing and screaming and that makes it worse it’s all darkness and sex as you rub and twist and slip a finger in, one two three, in and out play against that spot with the delicacy of an artist like I give a fuck just please and I can feel you watching me with those heavy-lidded eyes and secret smile kiss me fuck me oh bésame you whisper with your lips above mine so I have to reach up and pull you down and dig my hand into your thick curls to hold you there. Plunder your mouth with my tongue, ravage it and moan in it moan and groan I’m dying just just just
just
there
there
there
your mouth swallows my wordless cry as I clutch and cling to you riding the waves of pleasure and desire rolling up and down and through my body and haven’t you heard that an orgasm is like a little death? My head falls back and my eyes fall shut as my unbeating heart dances in my ribcage with the rhythm of your blood. You watch me, smiling, then you move with the languor of a cat, a big cat, lioness tiger (ride the tiger and laugh at my wit) leopard, something large and boneless and beautiful in that dangerous longtotouch way and you part my knees kneel between them my legs ride up around your hips and you lean forward, intent and beautiful like some kind of battle-scared and sex-marked goddess as you run the tips of your fingers down my skin and I can feel the difference between left and right and right and wrong one side swollen and damp from me, just me. Witch, sorceress bitch (because I still hate you for what you did to him) and I follow your fingers up like I’m nothing but a puppet play me like a doll, darling, and I’ll kill you in blood and laughter. Twisting limbs, tangled limbs and you can’t help but laugh as we try and sort ourselves out and maybe neither can I so I’m giggling as I end up straddling your lap and framing your face in my white dead hands. We stare at each other and I can’t tell what you are thinking, terrible liar that you are, and you’re staring back with large dark eyes that are the colour of living mahogany and you are so beautiful so fucking beautiful why doesn’t he remember it? I slide my hand up into your hair, and curl my arm around your neck and shoulders and we’ll just stop here, catch our breaths as we breathe in each other’s breath and try and say that ten times quickly. I twist my head a little, kiss your nose, your lips as
the
door
opens.
Who would come here, my room and his and he was away but oh my as I twist and turn and stare with too-wide eyes and I open my mouth and can’t say a thing. I’m not faithful, I’m not loyal, I’m just possessive but it’s like a dog smelling another dog on the owner’s hands only no one owns him oh, oh, oh shit and that’s when you laugh. Low and quiet and husky as you toss your head and give him a smile and speak in a quiet voice heavy with sex and desire and oh, I can’t believe you just said that, I can’t believe you just asked, oh I can’t I can’t…and I look at him and I look at you and I can’t help but giggle because how does a man answer this?
“Sands, honey, care to join us?”