Title: Pacifier
Rating: M; Lime
Author: BleedingMarionette
OC: Skarrly Willow; Pokémon Trainer
Summary: CyrusXOC| She should've been more careful. Because now she was his prisoner. And he was a baby with a new toy.|Lime Oneshot
Author's Note: Somewhat pedophilia. Skarrly is 15 in this so, yeah. Reviews make me happy and give me motivation. Motivation to write the other 4 or possibly 5. Each of the one-shots involve the bosses of the organization. Any grammatical errors let me know and I'll fix them. Oh, and there is a hidden reference to a song, whoever finds it gets a cookie.^u^
Disclaimer: Pokémon does not belong to me, because if it did I'd be the main character.
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Pacifier
I was his pacifier; forever and always.
The floor was so cold and the way my legs were positioned they'd fallen asleep so long ago. The room they'd shoved me into didn't smell bad; it was just disgustingly filthy. I am the definition of not learning from your mistakes. I can't believe they caught me.
The others were respectable captures but this one is pathetic. I mean Team Galactic, really? But all them have caught me at one point and I always escape. They all have one Pokémon in common: Zubat, Golbat, and Crobat. They are just so original. Now, I'm rambling, it's my nervous habit.
The light in this room--closet-- was dark and then it was so fucking bright. I had to squint to meet Cyrus' eyes. So cold…
"You're more annoying than a Bidoof, you know that?" he murmured. It was a rhetorical question but I'd be damned if I let anything go his way.
"And you're uglier than a Muk, but I'm not throwing you in a closet, am I?"
"Why are you always meddling in MY AFFAIRS?!?" he screeched. He had officially snapped--psycho--. "First with Palkia, then Dialga, and NOW Giratina; do I have to bury you? My best men are sent to destroy you and instead you convert them to the 'good' side…how do I get rid of you?"
"You could always ask," I smirk. And he slaps me. It hurts more than it should. He brings forth a small key and I become so hopeful. Then that look in his eyes is so familiar…from so many before.
"I'll let you go…if you do me a favor," he whispers all too nicely. I look at him, waiting for the--all too obvious--deal to my freedom.
"Well?" I'm impatient. I bite back the stream of curses just waiting to be let loose.
"You…give me you and you're…all…free," he whispers in my ear, the key raking along the deep cut front of my shirt. I freeze taking in his remark wondering just how far he'd take his end of the deal.
"What no smart-ass remark? Come on, Skarrly you know you can't deny that you want this," Cyrus murmurs his fingers drawing incoherent patterns on my thighs. My green eyes stare into his steel gray ones.
God! the feelings he arouses in just that one act! Maybe it's the way he looks at me that adds to it. I bite my bottom lip--hard--to hold in the moans, screams, and pleas for more! I want him, need him, but I will never tell him that.
"Come on Skarrly; be my pacifier. Lull me into ecstasy," he murmured into my hair. Click. My feet shot out beneath me and my hands we brought in front of me.
He pushed me back onto the cold cement flooring, my hands banging into the wall, and my legs were spread eagle. He loomed over me, lips pressing into my neck, along the top of my shirt, and dancing around my lips.
He smirked into my lips before delving his tongue into my mouth. He swirled it around, sucking on my tongue before my shirt made him break the--perfect--kiss.
"Mmn--Cyrus…you know this is illegal, right? Just stop," my last ditch effort to save my dignity. He smirked, smiled almost, from where his head rested against my chest; his tongue tracing the outlines of my bra.
"Mmnm…don't…don't stop!" I was pathetic begging this criminal to fuck me. He yanked my shorts down, and pressed his nose into me breathing deep.
"I fought the law," he whispered licking along the top of my underwear, "and the law won." His hands cupped my ass, as he looked into my face, his eyes dancing.
"So why shouldn't I just ass this notch to my belt," he said kissing my thighs.
I don't want him to stop; I want to go to town with this man! He'd gotten me so wet already, why stop it?
He looked up and moved towards the door, the incredulous look on my face made him smile--barely--before he became stone cold and dead, again. He looked so old to be twenty-seven.
"You're a sick, twisted, bipolar excuse for a man!" I screamed at him, venom lacing my voice, and my orange hair blocking my full view of the hardened face.
He dropped the keys onto my stomach and turned around.
"And you're free."