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Fandom: Siren!AU
Characters: Irae, Rai
Beware teh FLUFF. --Click here to view--
It was raining. Pouring, actually. Irae was soaked, and she had no clue where she was going. The bleeding cut on her face just stung a little, now.
Looking up with darkened, gray eyes, Irae finds herself staring a very familiar door of a very familiar apartment building. Raising a shaking hand, she knocks three times.
It takes a while, but Rai eventually opens the door. She can hear him sigh. "You know, Irae, there are these things called--" Blue eyes widen, noticing the blood on her shirt, and the bleeding gash on her face.
With a quiet chuckle and a half-grin that's more broken than he's ever seen it, Irae asks a simple question.
"Got any bandaids, Rai?"
There's a few moments of silence, then the older teen grasps her wrist. Her skin was cold. "I think you'll need more than a bandaid for this..." Why was she cold? She was always warm.
Irae lets herself be led into the apartment, never really bothering to pull away as she usually does. She's shaking, and that scares him. This-- This wasn't the Irae he was used to. Before either of them know it, she's on the couch, Rai seated closely next to her. It should bother her. But it doesn't for some reason. Not tonight.
"... What happened?" It's a hesitant question, one that he's a little afraid to ask. That feeling only intensifies when all he gets in response is a quiet chuckle, and a smile that lacks any sort of mirth.
The blonde is quiet for a while, barely flinching as he wipes the blood away from her face with a warm towel.
"I... Sort of pissed Takeshi off. There was some broken glass nearby..." A harsh laugh escapes her lips. "I'm sure you can figure out the rest. He's probably--" Rai's grip tightens and she gasps, turning wide, steel-colored eyes to stare at him.
There's a look in his eyes she can't quite decipher.
Irae is dimly aware of the bloodied water dripping from his fingertips and off her chin, the forgotten rag on the couch next to her, and the dull throb of the wound on her cheek.
What really has her attention is how his body's mere inches from hers, and the way she allows it, the way it doesn't bother her.
"Rai, what--" And then he's kissing her, warm lips pressing against her own, slightly cold ones. His hands are on her face, and at her left shoulderblade, pressing against the scar there.
She's forgotten everything now, even the pain of the gash on her cheek that will surely scar. All she can see is Rai, with his blue eyes closed and an almost desperate touch. All she can feel is
the warmth that seems to surround her.
When she responds(with a touch that's just as desperate as his own, if not more), Irae no longer knows what she's doing. The truth is, neither of them do. Pulling him closer with hands clutching at the back of his shirt, Irae no longer cares.
There's just the content feeling that washes over her, and the warmth that won't go away.
He buries his nose in the crook of her neck, just where the cut Takeshi had given her ends, and whispers things she's not really sure of against her neck. Irae thinks she hears her name, but she isn't quite sure. Her hand is buried in his hair, clutching at dark brown strands.
She feels warmer than her fire has ever been.
Meanwhile, Rai still doesn't know what he's doing, though he's stopped thinking about that a while ago. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and he didn't want to let her go. She smelled like blood, ashes, and rain. For some reason it was intoxicating, to him. Wet strands of hair touch his forehead and brush over closed eyes.
Irae was warm again.
Neither of them know when they fell asleep, but they would wake up with Irae not remembering any dreams or nightmares, and Rai wondering what on earth possessed him to do anything like this, But neither of them will regret it.
They'll also be very, very glad that it was a Saturday.
Neither of them needed any more rumors, afterall.
Looking up with darkened, gray eyes, Irae finds herself staring a very familiar door of a very familiar apartment building. Raising a shaking hand, she knocks three times.
It takes a while, but Rai eventually opens the door. She can hear him sigh. "You know, Irae, there are these things called--" Blue eyes widen, noticing the blood on her shirt, and the bleeding gash on her face.
With a quiet chuckle and a half-grin that's more broken than he's ever seen it, Irae asks a simple question.
"Got any bandaids, Rai?"
There's a few moments of silence, then the older teen grasps her wrist. Her skin was cold. "I think you'll need more than a bandaid for this..." Why was she cold? She was always warm.
Irae lets herself be led into the apartment, never really bothering to pull away as she usually does. She's shaking, and that scares him. This-- This wasn't the Irae he was used to. Before either of them know it, she's on the couch, Rai seated closely next to her. It should bother her. But it doesn't for some reason. Not tonight.
"... What happened?" It's a hesitant question, one that he's a little afraid to ask. That feeling only intensifies when all he gets in response is a quiet chuckle, and a smile that lacks any sort of mirth.
The blonde is quiet for a while, barely flinching as he wipes the blood away from her face with a warm towel.
"I... Sort of pissed Takeshi off. There was some broken glass nearby..." A harsh laugh escapes her lips. "I'm sure you can figure out the rest. He's probably--" Rai's grip tightens and she gasps, turning wide, steel-colored eyes to stare at him.
There's a look in his eyes she can't quite decipher.
Irae is dimly aware of the bloodied water dripping from his fingertips and off her chin, the forgotten rag on the couch next to her, and the dull throb of the wound on her cheek.
What really has her attention is how his body's mere inches from hers, and the way she allows it, the way it doesn't bother her.
"Rai, what--" And then he's kissing her, warm lips pressing against her own, slightly cold ones. His hands are on her face, and at her left shoulderblade, pressing against the scar there.
She's forgotten everything now, even the pain of the gash on her cheek that will surely scar. All she can see is Rai, with his blue eyes closed and an almost desperate touch. All she can feel is
the warmth that seems to surround her.
When she responds(with a touch that's just as desperate as his own, if not more), Irae no longer knows what she's doing. The truth is, neither of them do. Pulling him closer with hands clutching at the back of his shirt, Irae no longer cares.
There's just the content feeling that washes over her, and the warmth that won't go away.
He buries his nose in the crook of her neck, just where the cut Takeshi had given her ends, and whispers things she's not really sure of against her neck. Irae thinks she hears her name, but she isn't quite sure. Her hand is buried in his hair, clutching at dark brown strands.
She feels warmer than her fire has ever been.
Meanwhile, Rai still doesn't know what he's doing, though he's stopped thinking about that a while ago. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and he didn't want to let her go. She smelled like blood, ashes, and rain. For some reason it was intoxicating, to him. Wet strands of hair touch his forehead and brush over closed eyes.
Irae was warm again.
Neither of them know when they fell asleep, but they would wake up with Irae not remembering any dreams or nightmares, and Rai wondering what on earth possessed him to do anything like this, But neither of them will regret it.
They'll also be very, very glad that it was a Saturday.
Neither of them needed any more rumors, afterall.
Fandom: AU!Siren
Characters: Aysu, Sakura
zomgzyuri~ --Click here to view--
Pale hands grasp her wrists, and Sakura wonders how they got here. Struggling against the other girl's grip- when had this tiny girl gotten so strong? Or maybe she was weak? No, that couldn't be. It was impossible. She controlled the school! Sakura Windsor was not weak.
“Sakura...” She can feel the breath on her face, and stares at the eyes that are just in front of her. “Tell me,” A shift, hips and bent legs moving against her own and mint-colored irises glinting in something she can't decipher, “How does it feel to have no control?” Aysu presses the sophomore against the glass of the new, expensive coffee table. Hopefully, it was sturdy enough.
“I have not--” Aysu is suddenly holding her wrists with one hand, thin fingers almost bruising the delicate skin they're wrapped around. “Now, now, Ms. Windsor..” She's mere centimeters away from her now, glossed lips smirking. “Don't try to lie to yourself. Changing the subject, I think you've lost something..” and she's sitting up again, a uniform-tie in her hand.
Aysu was still wearing her tie. At this, Sakura struggles, arching up and wriggling, trying to move away. The 'thief' simply laughs. “It's not a very good feeling, is it?” She's leaning down again, lips once again centimeters from other girl's. “Or are you moving like this for a completely different reason?” The silver haired girl still smirks.
“Let's find out.”
And those pink, glossed lips claim the Windsor heiress' own. All heat and passion and fire. It consumes her, and Sakura is lost in the feeling. She forgets about her current situation for an instant, and her upper body arches once again-- For a completely different reason. Just like Aysu had said. Sakura almost missed it, but she could faintly taste strawberries. With a low chuckle, those lips drift down, kissing the side of the other girl's neck.
She hears Sakura gasp, and she smirks. “How ironic...” Slightly pointed teeth nibble a little where her shoulder connects to her neck, hands holding the partially unbuttoned uniform top to the side.. “Little control-obsessed Sakura is innocent~”
The girl beneath her pants and struggles weakly. Aysu continues to smirk. “But, somewhere..” Lips, that ever-talented mouth of hers is next to Sakura's ear. “There's a part of you that enjoys this, isn't there?”
Not even bothering to let her reply, Aysu kisses her again. Just as, if not more, passionate as her first As much as Sakura would've denied it, the thief was right. There was something, a morbid curiosity, maybe-- That enjoyed this. That craved for it. She no longer feels the cold glass she lies on, or the fact that they're in the teacher's lounge. The teen on top of her releases her wrists, opting instead to work on the rest of her buttons.
Instead of trying to break free, Sakura's fingers bury themselves in silver hair, pulling the hairtie free, silver hair cascading over Aysu's shoulders. Biting on her lower lip, but not hard enough to draw blood, she pulls the thief's tie free. Who knows how she got to be so good with her hands, and she'd have to make sure Aysu told no one.
Sakura did NOT need the rumors that would escalate from something such as this. Aysu, on the other hand, didn't care. She'd won, afterall. With a smirk that wouldn't go away, she moves closer, long legs intertwining with Sakura's own.
Biting lightly along her collarbone, she runs a finger along Sakura's spine, smiling as the girl once again presses herself closer. Aysu doesn't speak, but simply runs her hands along her sides, under her now fully-opened shirt.
She'd have quite the story for K'Ché to hear.
“Sakura...” She can feel the breath on her face, and stares at the eyes that are just in front of her. “Tell me,” A shift, hips and bent legs moving against her own and mint-colored irises glinting in something she can't decipher, “How does it feel to have no control?” Aysu presses the sophomore against the glass of the new, expensive coffee table. Hopefully, it was sturdy enough.
“I have not--” Aysu is suddenly holding her wrists with one hand, thin fingers almost bruising the delicate skin they're wrapped around. “Now, now, Ms. Windsor..” She's mere centimeters away from her now, glossed lips smirking. “Don't try to lie to yourself. Changing the subject, I think you've lost something..” and she's sitting up again, a uniform-tie in her hand.
Aysu was still wearing her tie. At this, Sakura struggles, arching up and wriggling, trying to move away. The 'thief' simply laughs. “It's not a very good feeling, is it?” She's leaning down again, lips once again centimeters from other girl's. “Or are you moving like this for a completely different reason?” The silver haired girl still smirks.
“Let's find out.”
And those pink, glossed lips claim the Windsor heiress' own. All heat and passion and fire. It consumes her, and Sakura is lost in the feeling. She forgets about her current situation for an instant, and her upper body arches once again-- For a completely different reason. Just like Aysu had said. Sakura almost missed it, but she could faintly taste strawberries. With a low chuckle, those lips drift down, kissing the side of the other girl's neck.
She hears Sakura gasp, and she smirks. “How ironic...” Slightly pointed teeth nibble a little where her shoulder connects to her neck, hands holding the partially unbuttoned uniform top to the side.. “Little control-obsessed Sakura is innocent~”
The girl beneath her pants and struggles weakly. Aysu continues to smirk. “But, somewhere..” Lips, that ever-talented mouth of hers is next to Sakura's ear. “There's a part of you that enjoys this, isn't there?”
Not even bothering to let her reply, Aysu kisses her again. Just as, if not more, passionate as her first As much as Sakura would've denied it, the thief was right. There was something, a morbid curiosity, maybe-- That enjoyed this. That craved for it. She no longer feels the cold glass she lies on, or the fact that they're in the teacher's lounge. The teen on top of her releases her wrists, opting instead to work on the rest of her buttons.
Instead of trying to break free, Sakura's fingers bury themselves in silver hair, pulling the hairtie free, silver hair cascading over Aysu's shoulders. Biting on her lower lip, but not hard enough to draw blood, she pulls the thief's tie free. Who knows how she got to be so good with her hands, and she'd have to make sure Aysu told no one.
Sakura did NOT need the rumors that would escalate from something such as this. Aysu, on the other hand, didn't care. She'd won, afterall. With a smirk that wouldn't go away, she moves closer, long legs intertwining with Sakura's own.
Biting lightly along her collarbone, she runs a finger along Sakura's spine, smiling as the girl once again presses herself closer. Aysu doesn't speak, but simply runs her hands along her sides, under her now fully-opened shirt.
She'd have quite the story for K'Ché to hear.
Fandom: AU!Siren
Characters: Vulcan, Aysu
Aysu: Much too flirty for her own good. --Click here to view--
Vulcan had gone to her apartment to do a few things. Tell her what she had done to him, how he still felt about her, and for her to basically leave him the hell alone. However, that required patience. Something he really didn't have with her.
As always, they argue. She's all smirks and half-closed eyes, a hand on her hip and silver hair over one shoulder. She doesn't listen to what he says, and Vulcan wonders why he's even bothering. It's less of an argument, and really just him yelling at her.
And her not listening. As always.
This goes on for quite a while, and he just can't take it anymore, and lunges forward. Aysu laughs when he pins her to the floor, the carpeting rubbing harshly against her exposed shoulders. Then, when he kisses her a few moments later, she bites his lower lip hard enough to draw and taste his blood.
With a gasp, he manages to pull away, though not immediately. Or maybe somewhere deep down, he didn't want to pull away. The girl beneath him(which is too well-aware of now, and wonders how they came to be like this) merely smirks, licking the smear of red off her lips.
“Problem, Jock?” She smiles, not at all worried about her current predicament. He squirms. Vulcan suddenly doesn't remember why he came, as he stares down at her with steel blue eyes clouded over with something he's not quite sure of. Or maybe he is, just doesn't prefer to think about such things. He tries not to, anyway.
There's a few moment of silence as he doesn't answer, and Aysu chuckles. “Why did you come here?” It was an innocent question. Well, it would be, if not given the fact that he was on top of her, in quite the compromising position(which, again, he was too well aware of), hands grasping her wrists and holding them to the floor.
“I--” He still can't remember why he came.
“Can't remember, right?” She laughs, a sound that's always been beautiful to him, no matter how much he tries to deny it.
Vulcan scowls. “Of course I do.” In response, she rolls her eyes, then shifts a little under him, hips moving up a little.
Aysu smirks as he turns red and squirms, but doesn't make any move to get up. “Liar,” she breathes. Shifting again, that smirk not leaving her face, she tilts her head up. Her lips brush the edge of his mouth.
“Think, jock. Why did you really come here..?”
Vulcan, who couldn't bring himself to move, still doesn't know why. He can't think. His mind is.. everywhere, and all he can see right now is the girl beneath him. He swallows, trying to will the lump in his throat to go away, and opens his mouth to reply.
Then she shifts again, moving one of her legs up ever so slightly, and his mind goes blank. Then, he decides he doesn't care why he's here. Nor does he care about losing, or winning, or any of that.
All he can see is her.
As always, they argue. She's all smirks and half-closed eyes, a hand on her hip and silver hair over one shoulder. She doesn't listen to what he says, and Vulcan wonders why he's even bothering. It's less of an argument, and really just him yelling at her.
And her not listening. As always.
This goes on for quite a while, and he just can't take it anymore, and lunges forward. Aysu laughs when he pins her to the floor, the carpeting rubbing harshly against her exposed shoulders. Then, when he kisses her a few moments later, she bites his lower lip hard enough to draw and taste his blood.
With a gasp, he manages to pull away, though not immediately. Or maybe somewhere deep down, he didn't want to pull away. The girl beneath him(which is too well-aware of now, and wonders how they came to be like this) merely smirks, licking the smear of red off her lips.
“Problem, Jock?” She smiles, not at all worried about her current predicament. He squirms. Vulcan suddenly doesn't remember why he came, as he stares down at her with steel blue eyes clouded over with something he's not quite sure of. Or maybe he is, just doesn't prefer to think about such things. He tries not to, anyway.
There's a few moment of silence as he doesn't answer, and Aysu chuckles. “Why did you come here?” It was an innocent question. Well, it would be, if not given the fact that he was on top of her, in quite the compromising position(which, again, he was too well aware of), hands grasping her wrists and holding them to the floor.
“I--” He still can't remember why he came.
“Can't remember, right?” She laughs, a sound that's always been beautiful to him, no matter how much he tries to deny it.
Vulcan scowls. “Of course I do.” In response, she rolls her eyes, then shifts a little under him, hips moving up a little.
Aysu smirks as he turns red and squirms, but doesn't make any move to get up. “Liar,” she breathes. Shifting again, that smirk not leaving her face, she tilts her head up. Her lips brush the edge of his mouth.
“Think, jock. Why did you really come here..?”
Vulcan, who couldn't bring himself to move, still doesn't know why. He can't think. His mind is.. everywhere, and all he can see right now is the girl beneath him. He swallows, trying to will the lump in his throat to go away, and opens his mouth to reply.
Then she shifts again, moving one of her legs up ever so slightly, and his mind goes blank. Then, he decides he doesn't care why he's here. Nor does he care about losing, or winning, or any of that.
All he can see is her.
Gawd, never posting this much EVER AGAIN. XD I still have shit I haven't posted.. D:
