Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Fall into Me
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A.N.: I wrote this because I needed to get it out of my system lol. I'm currently working (and by working I mean struggling haha) on my other fics and since no lemony moments were forthcoming in them I decided to write this for the Dokuga_Contest Theme: Explosion and it won 2nd place! =)
Thanks to everyone that voted for it!
So... a teensy bit of a background story (not really) and smut with a little bit of a spin to it since I focused on conflicted emotions and wordy descriptions a lot.
Warning:A hint of Asphyxiation
Enjoy.
. . .
He sits against a rustling tree, still like frozen waters and just as cold. In the pale moonlight, his silver strands shine, the white of his clothing and his taut alabaster skin only bringing more attention to the dark viscous liquid staining his haori. He stares off at nothing, amber eyes underlined by the magenta stripes adorning his cheeks, and he waits.
Even at such a time her wide deep blue orbs find his statue like form as they always do.
He knew she was coming, had scented her some time ago. Perhaps he should have left but it would have only delayed the inevitable.
Kagome edges forward, step after foreboding step. Without a word, she sinks before him, falling to her knees, hands resting on the toned thighs beneath her skirt. She’s calm, resigned and since they don’t have much to say to each other, they continue to sit in silence. She doesn’t look him in the eyes just yet.
The moonlight shines down on the unlikely pair, and he watches her as a breeze whips through and lifts their hair, his silver and her black intermingling.
She can sense the weight of his gaze, knows his eyes are hard like glass, his face belaying no emotion. But she doesn’t have to see him to feel it rising, the increasing heat radiating off of his flawless flesh to compliment the heat radiating off of hers. She knows it is only around her that it happens, knows that he cannot douse his flames any more than she can douse hers. It’s why she’s here. She couldn’t stay away any longer and she figures since he didn’t leave, he couldn’t either.
She knows he wishes he truly could stay as cold as ice in her presence, but the fire raging inside always betrays him. She knows this because the fire inside her betrays her too.
He is none of the things she has ever wanted and as she sits she closes her eyes for only a moment and thinks that maybe tonight they’ll be able to face each other and turn away, that maybe tonight they’ll get it right.
She finally meets his gaze, her eyes seeking his from underneath wispy onyx bangs, and quickly it’s not clear if blue is boring into amber or amber into blue. For some reason it seems like there is more intensity inside his eyes than she remembers and so she blinks the vision away. As a result, her orbs fall slightly from his face to his chest.
“You’re hurt,” she whispers, noticing the blood. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips turn down into a concerned frown.
They are almost pointless words and he wishes she’d never said them. His skin is already nearly finished mending, knitting back together one alabaster fiber at a time. He is youkai and immeasurably strong. He needs no one’s worry but she never ceases to give hers to anyone, even him. She cannot help but care.
And it is because of that, that he is so affected. She is too innocent, too pure, a miko; and he so tainted that just being near her makes his mouth water. He aches with the desire to see her eternal light corrupted, to be her corruptor.
He should destroy her. It is wrong that she have any power over him. She should be weak for she is only human, so fragile, so fleeting… it would be easy to reach and crush her throat, and yet he has not. He hates her for making him feel. She should not have come. He should not have stayed. Even if they do not want it, they know where this will lead.
It’s roaring already, the blaze scorching beneath his marble skin, his desire for her, and it’s burning holes through what should have been his ironclad control. Her azure eyes lined by dark sooted lashes blink back to his and he knows that she can see it, that the amber is mixing with red.
A light blush paints her cheeks and it is clear to him that her perpetual innocence will be his downfall. Control broken, it is not long before she finds her back pressed into the rough bark of that rustling tree.
He stands over her, imposing, dark and twisted, all that she should hate and yet apparently, it is all that is needed for her to lose control too.
In a trance she frantically works the ties of his obi, unloosening, and then tugs and pulls on layers of silk until he is bare enough for what comes next. She is biting her lip and her cheeks are still faintly blushed.
He claws away the thin fabric beneath but lets her skirt continue to flutter above her toned thighs even as he roughly grabs and parts them, making her gasp, drawing her further up the tree. He’s too far gone to waste even a little of their time by getting rid of it and besides, under the fluttering green and between her trembling knees is really where he aches to be anyway.
Even less time is wasted as he pretends to force his way inside, a sharp jolt of his hips. It’s merely an illusion of being in control, he would have fell into her anyway and she would not have resisted. He rests there, surrounded in a pool of searing heat, by her legs locked around his waist, by her arms around his shoulders and wonders how he’s gotten here again, it feels as if he’s being eaten alive, it always does. And so he holds her hips up with one clawed hand, the other braces against the tree, and swiftly he pulls out, withdraws completely and thrusts back in, hard and deep.
He is not gentle, does not know how to be. He buries himself within her and they devour each other one godforsaken thrust at a time. She meets him in tandem with his movements, and as their bodies craft complimentary arches in rapture he becomes a little less wicked and she a little more corrupt. Sin and sacrament makeup every slick slip inside, as he drives into her light and she accepts his darkness.
Their heads are thrown back, mouths open wide in pleasure and they are both sucking in air tainted by abomination, by deceit, by their atrocity, and so she drags his mouth to hers and instead they kiss. Roughly he runs his flat inhuman tongue over her blunt mortal teeth and she tastes his fangs before their tongues tangle and clash. Even as they twist and writhe, as he presses thick and hard into her and gives her something to clench on to, they’re burning.
By now her eyes are glowing so bright that they are white and his are glowing crimson. Youki sears her miko flesh and purity tries to carve out his demon soul and for them it could not be any better. For them, it’s only right because it’s so wrong.
She trembles, euphoric. The heels of her feet are digging into his back, her short nails slicing crescents into his shoulders and his claws sink into the softness of her hip, gouge deep into the bark beside her head. Drugged he grasps onto wood, propels himself forward harder, always harder, and groans are misplaced between their lips, incoherent words choked on and swallowed.
Her back is colliding with the tree, as he plunges inside, each time deeper then the last, searching for all that he has lost within her but can never get back. And they are too intoxicated on the pleasure, on the pain, on each other. Hungrily, he bites her lip and she bites him back.
The sparking fires of their powers surround them, whip through them, are electric. Their energies clash like the enemies that they should be. The smoldering lights crackle in their veins all consuming, and even as they burn up, they are depraved.
He draws away from her lips and his red eyes see her, her flushed thin skin, rounded ears, a mouth without fanged teeth. Angry, his thrusts grow brutal and the clawed hand from within the tree shifts, grabs her neck and clamps down.
The staccato of her heartbeat fights beneath his fingers, and he has never felt such a thing… even though he has. He wishes he could but his grasp won’t grow any tighter, he cannot end her… cannot live without her. She seems to have understood this because instead of fear he can feel her warmth tightening around him, her glowing eyes clenching shut. He knows she’s at her peak and somehow knows she’s come to the same conclusion as he.
When she bursts it’s in an explosion of white light, a moan-like scream forcing its way through the throat beneath his palm, her limbs go rigid as her powers burst in waves from her body. It rips into him, making his youki surge in a bright green flash of defense. Their powers collide, stab, whip against each other and then mix. And it’s sickeningly beautiful how horribly and perfectly they blend. The blast is so brilliant, so intense, that they are engulfed, lost within the light.
It is pain.
And it is blissful torture, lightning shreds through nerves, sparks dance on skin, she’s still coming and she’s compressed so tightly around him that he can barely persist as he sinks within her throbbing body wildly.
Finally, the pull is too great, and she is grasping him within her in such strangling pulses that he is forced out of himself in hot, angry spurts. He grunts deep in the back of his throat, hips jerking of their own accord, and he empties himself, drop after agonizingly wonderful drop, nearly mindless until she is full of him. Even after he slides in a few more times on shaky legs, strokes uneven, greedily seeking to prolong their sinful indulgence though by now she’s sucked him dry.
Slowly, the light of their powers recede, leaving nothing but panting sweat-slicked forms locked around each other. The light takes with it the smoldering pain, the drug that they will always seek, the burn that has brought them back together time and time again no matter how hard they’ve tried to fight it…
His head is buried in the crook of her neck and for some reason he hasn’t left her yet, is still inside, limp but wanting. She still wants him too.
The hand around her neck slowly loosens, slides back to bracing on the tree. He’s caught his breath already but she’s still breathing heavily. She is still human, a miko, fragile, fleeting, and what he is supposed to despise. And he is still youkai, cold, unfeeling, and everything that is her opposite. But somehow it does not seem to matter as much as it did before.
His eyelids lower, lips drawing closed into a firm line as his emotionless face shifts back into place. She moves and winces slightly. Her back is raw and bleeding but still somehow she smiles. They are silent for a time and then she whispers, the warm breath splaying across the pointed tip of his ear.
“Maybe we’ll get it right next time.”
She always says that.
He has never answered, but it’s the first time the words are meaningless. They both know that they will not… and for once are surprisingly reconciled with the thought. The part where they are each supposed to leave their separate ways comes and goes, unseen and uncared for. When he departs in a soft rustle of white silk, she moves forward and leaves with him.
. . .
Let me know how you liked it.
-E.C.