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Entry tags:
100moods | crushed | Parabellum
Title: Crushed
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Wordcount: 1263
Characters: Stelian Frost & Sparrow
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow & Seth Reinhold/Sparrow
Warning(s): implied/referenced rape/noncon, villain POV
Contains: open relationship(s)
Prompt(s):![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100moods 22. crushed
It's so much better than it was before. When this started, she couldn't have been more adamant that she would never let him get this far; she'd hated being touched, she'd hated talking to him, and she'd clearly hated his presence itself. But he's getting somewhere with her now, and the direction they're heading in is good.
Frost has Simon to thank for it, he's sure. She'd hardly seemed to like him much, either, in the beginning, but she'd warmed up to him long before she'd warmed up to Frost himself; now... things aren't perfect between them, but they're so much better than they might have been if he hadn't decided to invite Simon into their bed.
Simon, at least, had been able to prove to her that Frost had at least one thing to offer that she'd enjoy.
And there's no denying that she enjoys it; even she doesn't bother pretending otherwise anymore. Right now, she couldn't if she tried, not with the noises she's making and the way she's clutching him like she doesn't plan to every let go.
Fuck, she feels amazing.
He knows she still doesn't have any idea what he really feels about her. She doesn't feel a fraction of it, herself; she's barely reached the point of tolerating him. No matter what her body feels in moments like these, her mind can't get past the way it all started.
Truth be told, he's not sure it ever will.
It won't be terrible if that's the case. Even if she never loves him the way he loves her, what matters is that she's his; he has her, and he's not letting anyone take her away.
Sparrow groans, her nails digging into the skin of his back, her hips moving every bit as hard and fast as his are, and he can tell from the look in her eyes that she's very, very close.
And then her spine arches, pushing her body up against his, and she comes with the muttered string of words he's come to expect from her.
"Fuck, yes--Seth!"
Alright, well, maybe those aren't the words he was expecting.
Amused surprise draws him back from the edge of orgasm, and he's about to laugh at the absurdity of what just happened--what, did she get confused?--when he realizes she's gone completely still and tense beneath him.
He pulls back, rather alarmed at the sudden shift--surely he didn't hurt her?--and finds her staring at him with a look in her eye that it takes a moment for him to place.
Then it clicks, and it feels like everything comes crashing down around him in an heartbeat.
She's scared.
Frost stares at her for a moment, and then, carefully, he tries to see if he can get out of this.
"What's wrong?"
His voice is concerned and oblivious, but he can tell she doesn't believe its authenticity; she knows him far better than he wishes sometimes, but even before she did, she was always a distrustful little thing. (He hopes that served her well in Solares, because it's certainly not doing either of them any favors now.)
"Did I hurt you?"
She blinks, befuddled, like it's only just sunk in that he hasn't, and he's horrified to know that it's only because she can't quite bring herself to believe he isn't going to.
He pulls away from her, no longer waiting for her answer. It feels like he's fucking drowning; why would she think--?
"I'm sorry," she says quietly, and now he wants to laugh for an entirely different reason.
She thinks she has to fucking apologize. How can she think that?
He takes a deep breath, and he tries very hard to pretend he doesn't see her flinch. "Why?"
Frost turns to her, just in time to see a guarded expression settle over her fear like a curtain. She's trying just as desperately to escape this conversation, he realizes; but she's doing it for an entirely different reason. One he can't let go.
"Nothing," she says, and she shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong. You didn't hurt me. Why did you stop?"
At that--at her hopeless attempt to sweep this all away by feigning ignorance--he can't help but laugh. Anger tightens the muscles in her face.
"Sparrow, you didn't do anything wrong," he says, reaching out to take her hand--and damn if it doesn't hurt when she flinches again, as flighty and anxious as a beaten dog.
"I know."
Her voice is so cold, so emotionless, and she doesn't know. She clearly doesn't know a thing.
"Sparrow," he repeats. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not going to..." He can't even say it. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I don't care if you make a mistake."
She looks away. "I said I was sorry."
"Please don't be. Please don't--" This is a fucking nightmare. "Why would you think I'd... care? I've encouraged you, haven't I?"
She still won't look at him. "Can we just drop it?"
He wants to. By the war, he wants to. But if they drop it, he's never going to know.
"Sparrow, please, just--why are you still scared of me?"
As soon as the words pass his lips, he knows he's made a mistake. Her gaze snaps back to his, and her guarded expression twists, the curtain falling to reveal something harsh and cruel. And every bit of that malice is for him alone.
"What the fuck do you think?" she hisses. "Why the fuck would you ask such a stupid question? Are you insane? Do you really not have any idea--?"
Her voice breaks off, and she clamps her mouth shut. Fury, it seems, will always win out against fear with her, and he can't help being grateful. He can handle her anger; it's her fear that leaves him helpless.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he says quickly, inching toward her. She's stiff and unwelcoming as he nears her, and he doesn't dare draw her into his arms yet, no matter how much he wants to. It wouldn't comfort her a bit. "That was stupid." She nods jerkily, giving him another flighty glance that reminds him of a rabbit braced to run. "I just thought... I mean, I didn't realize..." He breaks off, sighs, and tries again. "Sparrow, look at me."
It's clear she doesn't want to, but she does anyway; he wonders if that should comfort him. "I will never hurt you. Ever. You can scream his name every time we fuck for the rest of our lives, and I will not care. There is nothing you can do that would ever make me hurt you, I swear it."
Finally, she seems to relax, a rather twisted smile capturing her lips. "Nothing?" she repeats, and he can hear the challenge in her voice.
He gives her a faint smile of his own. "I take it you have something in mind?"
She shrugs noncommittally. "I can think of a few suitably horrific things."
He's sure she can. "One rule," he reminds her.
"And if I break it?"
"Then it won't be me you have to answer to."
She surveys him for a moment, then nods, her amusement gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "I am sorry," she says. "Didn't mean to say that."
"I know," he murmurs, and she lets him pull her back into his arms without protest.
This time, it's his name that she moans when she comes, and it couldn't possibly sound any more like a bribe.
Fandom: Parabellum (original fiction)
Wordcount: 1263
Characters: Stelian Frost & Sparrow
Pairing(s): Stelian Frost/Sparrow & Seth Reinhold/Sparrow
Warning(s): implied/referenced rape/noncon, villain POV
Contains: open relationship(s)
Prompt(s):
100moods 22. crushedIt's so much better than it was before. When this started, she couldn't have been more adamant that she would never let him get this far; she'd hated being touched, she'd hated talking to him, and she'd clearly hated his presence itself. But he's getting somewhere with her now, and the direction they're heading in is good.
Frost has Simon to thank for it, he's sure. She'd hardly seemed to like him much, either, in the beginning, but she'd warmed up to him long before she'd warmed up to Frost himself; now... things aren't perfect between them, but they're so much better than they might have been if he hadn't decided to invite Simon into their bed.
Simon, at least, had been able to prove to her that Frost had at least one thing to offer that she'd enjoy.
And there's no denying that she enjoys it; even she doesn't bother pretending otherwise anymore. Right now, she couldn't if she tried, not with the noises she's making and the way she's clutching him like she doesn't plan to every let go.
Fuck, she feels amazing.
He knows she still doesn't have any idea what he really feels about her. She doesn't feel a fraction of it, herself; she's barely reached the point of tolerating him. No matter what her body feels in moments like these, her mind can't get past the way it all started.
Truth be told, he's not sure it ever will.
It won't be terrible if that's the case. Even if she never loves him the way he loves her, what matters is that she's his; he has her, and he's not letting anyone take her away.
Sparrow groans, her nails digging into the skin of his back, her hips moving every bit as hard and fast as his are, and he can tell from the look in her eyes that she's very, very close.
And then her spine arches, pushing her body up against his, and she comes with the muttered string of words he's come to expect from her.
"Fuck, yes--Seth!"
Alright, well, maybe those aren't the words he was expecting.
Amused surprise draws him back from the edge of orgasm, and he's about to laugh at the absurdity of what just happened--what, did she get confused?--when he realizes she's gone completely still and tense beneath him.
He pulls back, rather alarmed at the sudden shift--surely he didn't hurt her?--and finds her staring at him with a look in her eye that it takes a moment for him to place.
Then it clicks, and it feels like everything comes crashing down around him in an heartbeat.
She's scared.
Frost stares at her for a moment, and then, carefully, he tries to see if he can get out of this.
"What's wrong?"
His voice is concerned and oblivious, but he can tell she doesn't believe its authenticity; she knows him far better than he wishes sometimes, but even before she did, she was always a distrustful little thing. (He hopes that served her well in Solares, because it's certainly not doing either of them any favors now.)
"Did I hurt you?"
She blinks, befuddled, like it's only just sunk in that he hasn't, and he's horrified to know that it's only because she can't quite bring herself to believe he isn't going to.
He pulls away from her, no longer waiting for her answer. It feels like he's fucking drowning; why would she think--?
"I'm sorry," she says quietly, and now he wants to laugh for an entirely different reason.
She thinks she has to fucking apologize. How can she think that?
He takes a deep breath, and he tries very hard to pretend he doesn't see her flinch. "Why?"
Frost turns to her, just in time to see a guarded expression settle over her fear like a curtain. She's trying just as desperately to escape this conversation, he realizes; but she's doing it for an entirely different reason. One he can't let go.
"Nothing," she says, and she shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong. You didn't hurt me. Why did you stop?"
At that--at her hopeless attempt to sweep this all away by feigning ignorance--he can't help but laugh. Anger tightens the muscles in her face.
"Sparrow, you didn't do anything wrong," he says, reaching out to take her hand--and damn if it doesn't hurt when she flinches again, as flighty and anxious as a beaten dog.
"I know."
Her voice is so cold, so emotionless, and she doesn't know. She clearly doesn't know a thing.
"Sparrow," he repeats. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not going to..." He can't even say it. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I don't care if you make a mistake."
She looks away. "I said I was sorry."
"Please don't be. Please don't--" This is a fucking nightmare. "Why would you think I'd... care? I've encouraged you, haven't I?"
She still won't look at him. "Can we just drop it?"
He wants to. By the war, he wants to. But if they drop it, he's never going to know.
"Sparrow, please, just--why are you still scared of me?"
As soon as the words pass his lips, he knows he's made a mistake. Her gaze snaps back to his, and her guarded expression twists, the curtain falling to reveal something harsh and cruel. And every bit of that malice is for him alone.
"What the fuck do you think?" she hisses. "Why the fuck would you ask such a stupid question? Are you insane? Do you really not have any idea--?"
Her voice breaks off, and she clamps her mouth shut. Fury, it seems, will always win out against fear with her, and he can't help being grateful. He can handle her anger; it's her fear that leaves him helpless.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he says quickly, inching toward her. She's stiff and unwelcoming as he nears her, and he doesn't dare draw her into his arms yet, no matter how much he wants to. It wouldn't comfort her a bit. "That was stupid." She nods jerkily, giving him another flighty glance that reminds him of a rabbit braced to run. "I just thought... I mean, I didn't realize..." He breaks off, sighs, and tries again. "Sparrow, look at me."
It's clear she doesn't want to, but she does anyway; he wonders if that should comfort him. "I will never hurt you. Ever. You can scream his name every time we fuck for the rest of our lives, and I will not care. There is nothing you can do that would ever make me hurt you, I swear it."
Finally, she seems to relax, a rather twisted smile capturing her lips. "Nothing?" she repeats, and he can hear the challenge in her voice.
He gives her a faint smile of his own. "I take it you have something in mind?"
She shrugs noncommittally. "I can think of a few suitably horrific things."
He's sure she can. "One rule," he reminds her.
"And if I break it?"
"Then it won't be me you have to answer to."
She surveys him for a moment, then nods, her amusement gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "I am sorry," she says. "Didn't mean to say that."
"I know," he murmurs, and she lets him pull her back into his arms without protest.
This time, it's his name that she moans when she comes, and it couldn't possibly sound any more like a bribe.
© 2015 A.F. Tanith