Fanfic: Markings
Jan. 18th, 2006 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
knights_say_nihMillific
Jack/Satan
Rated hard R.
Featuring cameos by Lucy Noyes.
Dark. Coarse. Sex with Satan. Avoid at all costs.
"Possession."
"You are certain?"
"Yes, ducky, that’s what it says. Do I need to ask who did this to you."
Teeth grit. Fingers clench tight for a moment, and a long breath is hissed out because that prick. He'd underestimated him.
"I need a favour, Lucy."
* * *
Satan had been surprised, when he'd walked into the bar to be greeted with a very immediate and attention demanding kiss. He hadn't complained, he'd just slid one hand down because indignity tasted sweet, and one hand up because he knows what the hair’ll look like mussed and it hasn’t ceased to amuse him.
Eventually, though, Jack's head was yanked back, and an evaluating gaze was turned on him, through the familiar sunglasses. But Frost just grinned back.
"I'm bored and I want you to fuck me."
And that was enough for Satan.
* * *
It wasn't really about pain this time.
It was still filthy. It was still conflict. It was still hard and fast and Frost screaming, but this time it wasn’t about pain.
They'd tried that. So this time, it was Satan lying prone and smiling at the ceiling straddled him and rocked, aided by unforgiving, biting hot hands pressed to his hips. This time he kept silent again, leaving Jack to hiss and groan if it was too hard or enough or yesyesyeslikethat.
This time, it was Frost leaning over him, yanking an hand off his hips and taking fingers into his mouth to push ice without blood because they didn’t need it, this was about secrets.
Because Frost had one. So Satan wanted to know it.
* * *
Just like before was different, after was too. After, this time, it was Satan leaning back on his elbows, a cigarette in his mouth because he did want to know and he’d paid the creature off and given it the fuck he wanted, so now it was time to share.
Mirror across from him, minus the cigarette and with the added smirk, waiting for his breathing to calm, Frost lay and smiled and licked his bottom lip as he imagined the taste of Satan's blood again.
For a very long time, in an unbalanced silence, they waited.
Until Frost stood and turned his back.
* * *
"Are you sure, ducky?"
"Yes, Lucy."
"This will hurt, you know."
"I remember the first one being written, I know."
"Alright, well, hold still."
* * *
Possession by Ice.
His back had changed.
Frozen through and through.
Belial’s cigarette vanished, and very suddenly Frost found himself with a hand clenched around the back of his throat because that should not be possible.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your back, Frost."
"I haven't erased them. You still haven't told me what it says, you know. Will you read it to me, one day? Jack's curious to know how you've marked him."
The only answer is a snarl and a shove, because the little prick, he should not have known how.
And Frost smiled.
* * *
Jack, when he woke, understood that he back burnt again, his legs hurt and walking was ow ow owowowow. He understood that the bruises were from sex, that his cut lip were from kissing.
He understood little more than that, but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling as he made his way out to the lake to dance and spin with his parasol.
One of Lucy’s gifts to him.
Jack/Satan
Rated hard R.
Featuring cameos by Lucy Noyes.
Dark. Coarse. Sex with Satan. Avoid at all costs.
"Possession."
"You are certain?"
"Yes, ducky, that’s what it says. Do I need to ask who did this to you."
Teeth grit. Fingers clench tight for a moment, and a long breath is hissed out because that prick. He'd underestimated him.
"I need a favour, Lucy."
* * *
Satan had been surprised, when he'd walked into the bar to be greeted with a very immediate and attention demanding kiss. He hadn't complained, he'd just slid one hand down because indignity tasted sweet, and one hand up because he knows what the hair’ll look like mussed and it hasn’t ceased to amuse him.
Eventually, though, Jack's head was yanked back, and an evaluating gaze was turned on him, through the familiar sunglasses. But Frost just grinned back.
"I'm bored and I want you to fuck me."
And that was enough for Satan.
* * *
It wasn't really about pain this time.
It was still filthy. It was still conflict. It was still hard and fast and Frost screaming, but this time it wasn’t about pain.
They'd tried that. So this time, it was Satan lying prone and smiling at the ceiling straddled him and rocked, aided by unforgiving, biting hot hands pressed to his hips. This time he kept silent again, leaving Jack to hiss and groan if it was too hard or enough or yesyesyeslikethat.
This time, it was Frost leaning over him, yanking an hand off his hips and taking fingers into his mouth to push ice without blood because they didn’t need it, this was about secrets.
Because Frost had one. So Satan wanted to know it.
* * *
Just like before was different, after was too. After, this time, it was Satan leaning back on his elbows, a cigarette in his mouth because he did want to know and he’d paid the creature off and given it the fuck he wanted, so now it was time to share.
Mirror across from him, minus the cigarette and with the added smirk, waiting for his breathing to calm, Frost lay and smiled and licked his bottom lip as he imagined the taste of Satan's blood again.
For a very long time, in an unbalanced silence, they waited.
Until Frost stood and turned his back.
* * *
"Are you sure, ducky?"
"Yes, Lucy."
"This will hurt, you know."
"I remember the first one being written, I know."
"Alright, well, hold still."
* * *
Possession by Ice.
His back had changed.
Frozen through and through.
Belial’s cigarette vanished, and very suddenly Frost found himself with a hand clenched around the back of his throat because that should not be possible.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your back, Frost."
"I haven't erased them. You still haven't told me what it says, you know. Will you read it to me, one day? Jack's curious to know how you've marked him."
The only answer is a snarl and a shove, because the little prick, he should not have known how.
And Frost smiled.
* * *
Jack, when he woke, understood that he back burnt again, his legs hurt and walking was ow ow owowowow. He understood that the bruises were from sex, that his cut lip were from kissing.
He understood little more than that, but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling as he made his way out to the lake to dance and spin with his parasol.
One of Lucy’s gifts to him.
