AN: This stemmed from a ... challenge given to me by my "friend" the Sinqueen, Kayla, to write my Oc's. My first attempt at writing.. well, smut. I am so embarrassed and I'm going to disappear. This probably sucks so bad. I have zero experience in this department.
Ocs:
Tiran - he's a pseudo-Noah. Long story short he's stuck halfway through awakening.
Aislnn - A member of the science division. She has ties to the Leverrier family and plays the system to her own advantage. Rebellious by the time;s standards. Refuses to wear a skirt.
They're on fire, and neither of them are looking for water. It's strange and stupid, here of all things. Trapped by a rogue Komlin in a spare, cluttered room the size of a broom closet in the deepest reaches of the Black Order HQ, but they're alone. For the first time there's nothing to interrupt them. No watchful gazes between stolen kisses, no panic at the thought being discovered and being charged for treason measuring their every move.
No, here it's only them and the darkness.
Aislnn's hands roamed the feverish strip of skin just under the hem of Tiran's shirt, pulling him closer before running up his shoulders to the back of his head, tangling in the locks of wavy, loose hair. He let out a shuddering gasp against her mouth, nipping lightly on her bottom lip as his hands dropped from the cold cement wall to her waist, and then lower, pulling her tightly against him. He devoured her neck, searing kisses spreading warmth and fire into her veins, coiling into the pit of her belly with ravenous ferocity.
Crazy. Her voice echoed in her head. Danger. Escape.
All ignored the wake of a pair of molten gold eyes locking with hers, drawing her in, spiraling all of her control down into the depths of her mind with a single, breathy kiss.
Everyone knew Aislnn played with fire. She reveled in it. Drawing the line between breaking a rule and keeping order so thin a simple breeze would sever it. She played the system like a fiddle, broke it to her own will and twisted it sideways to serve her own ambitions. In turn, Tiran had twisted her. He knew every way to set her skin aflame, the fire that she had played with for so long given form, shape, and a name.
He burnt her, melted her down, and reforged her, but like she could never tame him, he would never want to tame her. Yet he could easily incinerate her.
A simple flick of the wrist, a bite, anything could be her undoing. Yet she remained, letting him ravage her neck with bites so blissfully painful she had to swallow her screams in place of moans. He was oracious and unforgiving, but gentle like the wash of water. His tongue laved over ever bite, lapping her blood and the remains of her protests away.
And he...
He had never felt so fiercely. Every fine-tuned caress of her deft hands, soft skin against his. Nails scraped across the still-sharp ridge of his shoulders, his sides. Each mapped into place by a memory that would never forget, would keep and clutch every sensation and jealously guard it for years - generations - centuries. He was liquid in her hands, easily molded, but never forced. His iron will prevented it, fear still lingering in the back of his mind that washed away the gentler instincts that may have once taken their place. Here he is raw power, a want that aches within him. His clever fingers found the hem of her loose fitting shirt and plunged beneath it, devouring the warm skin even as he nuzzled into the sides of her neck. He breathed whispers into her ears of words so dirty it made the tips of his ears burn, yet she responded. Writhing under his touch, pressing in and clutching him close. Her exhale is his next inhale, the two molding against each other, cold stone and white hot fire. His hands raked out from under her shirt, sliding along the hidden flare of her waist to her bottom and then to her thighs. With a startled yelp, she found herself closer than she could've imagined. Pinned against a wall, desire coiling like a pit viper in her belly.
They aren't married, it's hardly proper, but as the buttons holding her shirt closed fell away under skillful hands and his hot tongue and lips traced words against the sensitive, freckled skin between her breasts, she could hardly summon the will to care.
Doesn't care. She only pulled him closer. This dangerous, wild, white hot thing. He could break her at a moment's notice, but doesn't. This is not some clumsy first attempt behind her great-uncle's hay barn. A rough, uninspiring tumble that left her itchy from the hay. Both of them have at least a measure of experience, and it's put to good use. Tiran ran his hands over her sides, ghosts at times, and at other times firm, unafraid to finally, at last, pull the loose remains of her shirt free and up, over her head. She stretched her arms for him, hair falling loose as her ponytail rolled on the ground. Her hair fell in a deep brown honey-colored shimmer across her shoulders, collarbones, shading the side of her face until he reached forwards and tucked it behind her ear. With a huff, she yanked on the offending black shirt still shielding most of his body from her view. The shit-eating grin on his face said it all as he ran his tongue along the edge of her breast, keeping line with the curve of her brassiere before working his way up to the base of her neck. He nipped lightly, slower. There's a low sizzle to the heat as he pulls back, uncertainty clouding the haze of lust and want in his eyes.
It's a silent question, but it speaks volumes. He'll let her turn back. He'll let her run from him. It's the only shred of control she'll get, she knows. Already the bites on her neck sting, speak of a voracious desire to be in control of something. It's the last thing she expected, considering his usual temperament, but she knows more than anyone that everyone has their demons.
Will you accept mine?
Her arms lay loosely along his shoulders, and Tiran could hardly control the incredulous look on his face when she tugged insistently on the shirt threatening to fall of his body. He schooled his features into a mask, and carefully pulled his arms out. If she wants to even the score before she decides, it's fine by him, but the aching in his lower abdomen is growing fierce, and time is inevitably running out. The shirt slid over his head, blinding him for a moment before she pulled it free. It lands on he floor next to her own shirt, white against black, and he frowned, despite himself. His gaze lifted to hers, tentative, almost shy. He backed away, letting her slide down the icy stone to stand in front of him. She's beautiful in her own right, not slender, but slightly curvy, with a slight pooch to the edge of her pants that he finds slightly endearing.
Pants. He smirks. A woman wearing pants. She swatted at him, but he caught her hand. His skin is dark against hers, brown with strange hints of light gray that betray the memory in his head and the genes in his veins. The only pale spots on him are the bite-mark scars that litter his shoulders, and the faintly-silver mark splayed in an approximation of a fist on his faintly jutting ribs. Aislnn reached, silently running her hands over his body, setting his breath hitching in his chest with every inhale.
Skinny, still underweight from years of sleeping. Hiding.
Aislnn doesn't care. Her path trailed upwards, across the thin bumps of new muscle on his lower stomach, the planes of his ribs. and then higher to his neck. He took a silent step forward and pressed his forehead against hers, the faint indents in his head searing hot trails into her own. His eyes were close, close enough for her to see the tangle of color that actually made them up; close enough to see the two people she's come to love with such an unprecedented ferocity staring back at her as one.
She knows Asaya's story. And to some degree, Tiran's. Her own eyes may not shift like sand, one color one minute and another the next, but to Tiran, they are beautiful. The deepest green, like the hills in summer where he lived and grew up, and the faintest hint of brown at their centres, the color of the Earth. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, her fingers snaking up to his shoulders behind his arms. He shivers as her fingers ghost over the first scar, then the second, and the third, until her entire palm is splayed over the over-sensitive skin and he's shivering.
"It's okay." her voice whispers. And like that, the trance in his mind is broken. He glanced back up at her with furious intent, lips crashing together. Aislnn let out a muffled squeak of delight. His hands worked at the hem of her pants as her own swirled long, languid lines down his spine from the soft hairs of his neck to the curve of his rear.
She can never tame him, because to tame him would be to break him.
It is here he is most vulnerable, shivering in her arms yet as she traced across those scars. She doesn't know their stories, but she knows the effect. Sees the scattered, faint lines that seem to hover around him, like a distortion in time. Knows that however shattered his memory is, Tiran - who he was - is just as fragmented.
So she lets him. Allows him. Gives him permission to as he worked her pants down to her ankles, steadily moving her back while shoving junk out of the way. The bed is a small one, meant for only one person, and is surrounded by leftover piles of boxes. She pauses only as Tiran stops, plucks a threadbare teddy bear from a box, and stares at it forlornly.
She caerfully took it from his hands, and gently set it aside.
The war has taken much from them - from others. Will take more yet.
For now, they have each other, yet she will not say he is hers, as much as she is his.
Just as he will not say she is his, as much as he is hers, and perhaps that's the beauty of it.
Tiran slid down onto the dusty bed, sneezed, curled and then stretched languidly. It's a tease, she realized, making what little he has stretch taught. Despite it, she feels nothing but fondness and steps forwards, undoing the clasp of her bra as she goes. It falls to the floor easily, allowing him free access as she sat down beside him.
His weight, warm - and then suddenly searingly hot, covers her. She nips a few times on her own, when he gives her leeway, but her arms are pinned above her head as he works. Swirling one of her pert nipples with his tongue until she's writhing beneath him once more, humming with desire. The heat, the fire, is back, embers fanned into flames, bursting anew as he released one of her arms and uses his now-free hand to torment her. Delicious wet heat spread between her thighs, and she can't be sure, but she swears he senses it.
Languid, predatory, he leaves her breasts with only a firm appreciative squeeze, hands trailing down her sides while he places hot-open mouthed kisses and bites all the way down the curve of her stomach. At her hip bone, he nibbles, hoisting her legs higher and wedging himself between them. She frowned at him only due to the pants he was still wearing, and is only met with a cold stare in return. Her heart seized at its intensity, fear temporarily gripping her heart in ice until his usual smirk spreads slowly, achingly, across his face. She releases a breath she never knew she had, lying limp and slightly frozen on the bed.
He left her only for a few moments, peeling the baggy black pants from his body and tossing them to the floor. She lay quietly as he clambered back on the bed, only reaching for him as he leaned forwards over her, running smooth, gentle palms along his upper torso.
All at once, he stills.
"I can stop." he says softly. His voice is strange, strangled. His eyes meet hers, and they're two different shades of gold. One old, piercing, as cold and clear as the ages that have past. It is the look of one who has seen pain, death, and been reborn into a strange world. The other is warmer, but dim. Silent and sad. A boy ripped to early from a family he loved. Both are Tiran, both are Asaya. Weaved together to a point where living is impossible without one another.
She loves both of them.
She loves both of them.
"Don't." she whispers, pulling him closer.
At that, he presses a kiss to her temple, settling his weight down on top of her. She let out a whine at the bulge in his underwear, aching with need, and vainly attempted to rub herself against it. He lifted his hips, denying her, but at her huff of disappointment instead snaked one of his hands down, raking nails slightly over skin. Up, then down. Up. Down. Finally, on the third down, his hand disappeared beneath the hem of her underwear. Her back arched violently, Tiran swearing lightly at the thick, wet heat past the lush curls he found there. He began rubbing slow circles into her clit, leaning and sucking on a nipple. A whine escapes him as she cries out, desperately trying to rock into his hand, if not for his weight pressing her down and keeping her from doing just that.
A needy keen escaped her, and it nearly undoes him at the brokenness there. At that, he decides it's enough. He reached deeper, a single finger dipping into the hot moistness between her legs. Nails suddenly dug into his back, and he found himself letting out a grunt, harsh breaths matching hers as he drove her up, began to work her with his fingers. Circling with his thumb in tight circles, and then widening them as she tensed, after a while, he added another. Her cry was loud, and he clamped a desperate hand over her mouth, stilling his ministrations and staring beseechingly into her eyes.
They can't be caught. As abandoned as the current level was, there were likely still people milling about that could possibly hear them.
After a moment of realization, Aislnn nodded. He began to work her again, slower, achingly so, and sat up, eventually speeding up as the walls of her cunt clenched feverishly around his fingers. They were wet, dripping with her readiness, the scent of her arousal nearly driving him mad by itself. He was achingly hard, but if any good came out of knowing Cross, it was that the man had given all of them a rather impromptu crash course in women. They needed preparation, and although it was nearly driving him mad at the need to fulfill his own very-neglected desires, whines escaping him every time she clenched around his fingers, he persevered.
The white hot pit at her center grew feverish, Tiran's leniency allowing her to buck her hips upwards to meet every delicious curl of his fingers. He could feel her tensing, tensing, muscles clenching harder and harder, nearly crushing the digits with the power of her muscles.
She came with a start, a white hot wash of pleasure setting every nerve tingling as she tipped over the edge to oblivion. He swallowed her loud moan of ecstasy with a quick kiss, letting her ride out the remaining moments of her orgasm in relative peace as he tried to content himself with nibbling on her neck. Her breaths came in rushes, body still clenching hollowly at emptiness. He panted with her, sides heaving less with the slow fall of a release and rather the need of one, but waited.
Aislnn opened her eyes, rosy cheeks and heart still thudding like a drum in her chest. Tiran's eyes were on hers, heady with want as he slowly cleaned each of his fingers.
"Well?" his voice broke the reverie, sending her crashing down to earth. It was husky, breathy, and already working her back into a frenzy. Her panties were soaked straight through, and, after a moment, she removed them. His fingers ran gently through the thick curls, arm stretching langorously up to her stomach as he kissed her thigh. She can feel him trembling with need and want, his eyes dark and dangerous when they meet hers. Twin sets of topaz light gleaming in the dimness.
She let out a slow breath, and then relaxed.
This is the dangerous part, she innately knew.
Dark fire burns in him now, and she feels it when insanely hot skin slides against hers. A hot trail of burning kisses maps its way up her sides, kisses turning into nips, nips into bites. He can feel the tension lying under her skin, the uncertainty at what's to come.
His eyes narrow in the dim light, cat-like pupils gleaming white-gold as he peers at her. She shivers at the need cast deep within them.
He lingered at her throat, a sound like the distant rumbling of thunder echoing up at her from the depths of his chest. Sharp pinpricks of teeth grasp her neck, pause...
There's a ruffle, and the weight sitting on her is suddenly gone. Aislnn blinked, glancing and quickly sitting up.
Her eyes widened as Tiran slid his undergarments down his narrow hips, an aching, relieved groan echoing out into the air as his cock sprang free. To her surprise, he instead turned, facing the door. A burst of faint purple light, and the door handle - and door - are fused to the wall.
She isn't sure whether to feel relieved that no one can walk in on them, or terrified.
The way he pads towards her is sleek, her eyes unable to leave his member, but the sight all the same sending a rush of familiar white heat to her core. He moved achingly slow, languorous, sinuous as he crouched and then splayed himself atop her again. His teeth lingered at the junction of her throat, pulse hammering loudly just under the surface.
Eyes flickered to hers for the barest of moments, familiar, beseeching.
Are you okay?
Aislnn lifted her arms and brought him closer to her, hands tangling in the soft hair at his neck, spilling it down over his shoulders to hang in a curtain of vague purple and blue. His eyes flicked to her, skin shivering like water. He's terrified of her. Or maybe not her, but something lodged so deep in his memory that Aislnn could hardly comprehend it
. She reached out tentatively, catching the side of his face. His eyes focused on her, and she only smiled at him faintly.
"It's alright, Tiran." she said gently. She stroked the skin of his face, trailing down his neck. Twisting and playing with the softer baby hairs that curled just beneath his ears.
Slowly, painstakingly, the trembling subsided to a quiver. His taught muscles shuddered once, and then he sank down. Aislnn carefully wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, running soothing hands through his hair as he breathed in and out. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. At that, he tilted his head up, eyes searching hers.
She shifted her hips then, rubbing against his still-hard erection and causing him to let out a breathy groan. He pushed himself up, a frustrated frown twisting his features apart.
"Aislnn -"
"Do what you want." she met his eyes, giving her hips another experimental roll against his. The friction was delicious, causing both of them to groan as twin spasms of pleasure rocked through them.
He needed no further coaxing.
His arms slammed into the bed next to her head. She gasped as she felt it, white-hot and faintly throbbing against her. He dropped his head to her shoulder, nuzzling her and nipping at her skin. Desire curled under his skin, wavering like smoke, and he eased forward.
Aislnn let out a gasp as he pushed past her lower lips. Heat enveloped him, forcing out a groan, but he hardly stops, the slightest indication of hesitation only in the way his body seizes up for the barest moment when she clenches around him. He drops his mouth to her neck, teeth sinking in slightly. He lets loose a groan around the mouthful of skin he's clamped his jaws around, refusing to move. One arm curled under her, lifting her so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders properly. He slid that arm down to her leg, spreading it open and, nestling himself deeper. She let out a groan, cunt fluttering against the press of his cock, clenching then fighting to relax against the intrusion. She feels stretched, too thin, too thin, too much. He's nearly wheezing past her neck, sides heaving like he's been starving for air, almost whining in pain. Muffled words fly past his lips, unintelligible as she gently strokes his hair.
Keep him calm. She told herself. She winces as he pushes deeper, and he stops, laves his tongue against the thudding pulse in her neck when everything stops.
And then he started to move. His thrusts strikes home, a strange feeling building within her that is neither pain nor pleasure, but a strain mixture of both. Aislnn whimpered, moaning loudly as he dropped his grip to her hips, faster, harder. The pain at her neck fuels it, makes her rock her hips upwards into his. After a moment, they've found a rhythym, the bed creaking loudly. Both of them can hardly care. She's lost in a haze of pleasure, and he's right behind her.
His mind is seized, nothing but primal instinct urging him higher, higher. He fights for the only sliver of control "he" has - not to bite through Aislnn's jugular and kill her. The fact she's let him do this... he can't wrap his mind around it.
Mine. He hears in his head. Pounding in time to his heart. To the glorious thrusts into the tight, hot, wetness. Skin slips on skin, sweat slickened bodies coming together. He adjusts his angle as he hears her desperate mewls quieten, temporarily relinquishing his hold on her neck so he can lean her back against the bed. He returns with ferver to his previous spot on her neck, though, tastes blood, and drinks of it. The acrid, sharp, coppery taste on his tongue driving him higher. Her arms are folded around his neck, clutching at his shoulders, digging in. One loosens, and he is afraid for a long moment until he feels nails rake down his back. He lets out a delighted whine, picking up the pace as she clenches tighter, tighter. The other arm moves, following it's twin as she carves red marks into his skin.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
But never his. He knows it.
Aislnn shrieks, panting his name out like a prayer as she bucks beneath him. He responds eagerly, pinning her down as much as he can. With a feral growl, he goes harder, faster.
Aislnn's lower body is a pulsing mass of pleasure, a tight wad of shivering, fragile goo threatening to shatter. She feels Tiran falter as he gasps for air, his jaws leaving her neck finally. He locked his eyes on hers, something passing in them she doesn't catch right away as pounds into her relentlessly, chasing the pleasure singing in his veins. The slick sound of skin on skin matches her panting, and before she realizes it, she's kissing him. His arms slide from her hips, wrapping around her and hauling her onto his lap. One last thrust is all it takes as she comes, hard, the sound of her cry ringing through the air is loud enough that he's sure everyone in the Order will know. Her fingers scrabble against his back, growing slick with sweat and the blood from the deep scratches there, before locking against each other. His face is pressed into her heaving chest.
Her pussy clenches tightly, undulating as her orgasm rips through her, and he feels himself fly over the edge after her. A loud groan ripped from his throat, eyes widening as he met her own. Aislnn's face was flushed, nearly glowing. He feels the remainder of his seed drip down his shaft, eyes widening suddenly. Panic seizes him before he calms at Aislnn's touch.
"It's alright. I... took precautions." she murmured.
Tiran let out a snort, his gaze drawn to the angry, raw, faintyl weeping bite mark on her neck. He licked it gently, both of them refusing to pull away, despite sore, aching muscles until he had completely healed it. Lethargy consumed him, and when Aislnn pulled him forwards to rest on her, he didn't protest. Her chest still heaved faintly under his cheek, eyes closing as she strokes through his sweat-dampened hair.
"You realize we just commited like... eight cardinal sins in the space of ... however long that was." Tiran breathed out.
Aislnn chuckled at him.
"I think it was worth it." He lifted his head slightly.
"I'm sorry if I... if I hurt you."he murmured against her neck.
"Unexpected, yes, but not unenjoyable." she nipped his ear affectionately, causing the Noah to grin at her. For a moment, there was silence, and then Tiran sagged against her. Aislnn's eyes widened.
His eyes had deepened to a caramel, a faint smile - a smile - etched on his face. His body, lean and cuddled up to hers, was devoid of tension. Every muscle was loose, making him look... even younger than he supposedly was.
She lifted a hand, stroking it through his hair, and the sound of contentment that came from him warmed her, gave her hope.
"I haven't..." Tiran's voice was calm, a soothing cadence to her ears, still rough with the after-effects of desire.
"I haven't felt like this since Nea died." he murmured softly.
Aislnn's eyes widened, but she didn't stop stroking his hair.
"I miss them." he murmured quietly, eyes closing.
Aislnn didn't know what to say, but merely leaned forward and kissed the top of his forehead. She wrinkled her nose.
"You smell."
A chuckle.
"So do you."
"Next time I wanna be on top." Aislnn clairified.
"Nuh-uh." Tiran sighed contentedly. " My spot."
His eyes shot open.
"Next time?!"
If I am lucky, there will not be a "next time". I feel gross. I'm also going to hide in a hole and pray to whatever deity there is that no one I know IRL other than Kayla and a few others ever finds this.
*disappears and becomes the void*