You don't know how you got here
Mar. 14th, 2015 08:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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fuse_boxWHO: Korra and Hei.
WHAT: Two Contractors after a messy hit.
[ The assignment is complete. After a fashion. ]
[ The target's stretch limousine explodes, a time-bomb hurtling at eighty miles per hour. Hei verifies the detonation in the side-view mirror of their getaway van. The brilliant flames glow across the express lane, a bonfire on a humid July night, the deadly cacophony fifty yards behind him on the I-95. The ferocity from the detonation rolls through the atmosphere, juddering both sides of the interstate and adjacent roads like in a San Francisco earthquake. Brake lights flare in a screeching chorus. Behind Hei, beyond the blazing limousine, four lanes of interstate crowded with cars, trucks, and motorcycles careen to an ear-splitting halt, too late for speed demons to swerve and avoid flying debris. ]
[ Their van keeps going. The target is dead. The botched mission completed in less than forty-eight hours. The teflon-coated politician inside the limo had coasted through a dream-life of caviar and champagne, bodyguards at his side, girls in his lap, boys paid to shoot and kill and girls trained to smile and please. A man who didn't hesitate to have his enemies dragged to the desert and fed to the buzzards. ]
[ A prominent Syndicate faction had become one of his problems. And so the politician became one of theirs. ]
[ All BK201 knows is what he'd been briefed on, during the overseas assignment. And that, in itself, isn't much. The less the killing-machines knew, the better. What mattered was that they rectified the situation as they'd been ordered to. ]
[ The remote trigger that sparked blast is still in Hei's gloved hand. With a zzzt and a curl of smoke, he shorts it out. Tosses it out the window, while their van lurches from right lane to left lane to right lane, threading traffic like a bulky needle, becoming a fast-moving blur vanishing down I-95. Hei exhales, absorbing the metal's chill; the van is a freezer. Across him is the only other survivor of the hit: NC-108. Korra. Both their faces are crusted in dried blood, clothes grimy, hair in tufts. But everything else is intact -- unlike the rest of their teammates. The politician managed to weed them out before they'd fully infiltrated his base. Two were murdered in their hotel room by a hitman dressed as a waiter. The other three were machine-gunned on the street last night during dinner in a café by hostiles in police uniforms. The Syndicate is still recovering their mangled bodies. ]
[ Hei and Korra were advised to abort the operation and contact their respective handlers. Neither had bothered. Hei, because his inner-completionist refused to leave the job undone. Korra, because -- let's face it -- she has a streak, miles wide, that compels her to throw herself into the maelstrom of disaster, daredevilry the cover for an easy exit. During their firefight with the politician's hitmen, Hei had to drag her away a few times from almost certain disembowelment or death -- narrow saves that made Korra grin like she was high, the fevery glow off her skin like an irradiated firefly. ]
[ Hei can't say it bodes well. Not for her -- or her long-term career. ]
[ It doesn't matter. They've both succeeded at this mission. Five dead teammates equal five less cuts on the final payment. There's a tidy sum waiting for the two of them. A quarter of a million dollars, each. Hei's cellphone has already vibrated with the message: FUNDS TRANSFERRED. ]
[ It's a living, he thinks, gazing out the window with a sedate veneer but a tensile edge to his jaw. Forty-eight hours, five eliminated associates, and he's earned $250,000. And all it took was a few scrapes and bruises, a tricky full-immersion identity, and a block of old-fashioned C-4. ]
[ The Syndicate's safehouse is in an old motel, one of twelve pink stucco cottages strung out around a gravel parking lot. The cabin reeks of must, and like everything that night, humidly salty. Switching on the rattling air-conditioner, Hei conducts his careful sweep for bugs across the room. Satisfied, he shrugs off his coat -- stiff with caked blood -- before glancing impassively toward Korra, ]
Take the first shower.
[ He's not being a gentleman. But the widest window for enemy retaliation -- and the Syndicate's own post-mission clean-ups -- occurs in the twelve hours after the successful hit. If they're ambushed, Hei doesn't plan to be naked, dripping wet and unarmed. ]
WHAT: Two Contractors after a messy hit.
[ The assignment is complete. After a fashion. ]
[ The target's stretch limousine explodes, a time-bomb hurtling at eighty miles per hour. Hei verifies the detonation in the side-view mirror of their getaway van. The brilliant flames glow across the express lane, a bonfire on a humid July night, the deadly cacophony fifty yards behind him on the I-95. The ferocity from the detonation rolls through the atmosphere, juddering both sides of the interstate and adjacent roads like in a San Francisco earthquake. Brake lights flare in a screeching chorus. Behind Hei, beyond the blazing limousine, four lanes of interstate crowded with cars, trucks, and motorcycles careen to an ear-splitting halt, too late for speed demons to swerve and avoid flying debris. ]
[ Their van keeps going. The target is dead. The botched mission completed in less than forty-eight hours. The teflon-coated politician inside the limo had coasted through a dream-life of caviar and champagne, bodyguards at his side, girls in his lap, boys paid to shoot and kill and girls trained to smile and please. A man who didn't hesitate to have his enemies dragged to the desert and fed to the buzzards. ]
[ A prominent Syndicate faction had become one of his problems. And so the politician became one of theirs. ]
[ All BK201 knows is what he'd been briefed on, during the overseas assignment. And that, in itself, isn't much. The less the killing-machines knew, the better. What mattered was that they rectified the situation as they'd been ordered to. ]
[ The remote trigger that sparked blast is still in Hei's gloved hand. With a zzzt and a curl of smoke, he shorts it out. Tosses it out the window, while their van lurches from right lane to left lane to right lane, threading traffic like a bulky needle, becoming a fast-moving blur vanishing down I-95. Hei exhales, absorbing the metal's chill; the van is a freezer. Across him is the only other survivor of the hit: NC-108. Korra. Both their faces are crusted in dried blood, clothes grimy, hair in tufts. But everything else is intact -- unlike the rest of their teammates. The politician managed to weed them out before they'd fully infiltrated his base. Two were murdered in their hotel room by a hitman dressed as a waiter. The other three were machine-gunned on the street last night during dinner in a café by hostiles in police uniforms. The Syndicate is still recovering their mangled bodies. ]
[ Hei and Korra were advised to abort the operation and contact their respective handlers. Neither had bothered. Hei, because his inner-completionist refused to leave the job undone. Korra, because -- let's face it -- she has a streak, miles wide, that compels her to throw herself into the maelstrom of disaster, daredevilry the cover for an easy exit. During their firefight with the politician's hitmen, Hei had to drag her away a few times from almost certain disembowelment or death -- narrow saves that made Korra grin like she was high, the fevery glow off her skin like an irradiated firefly. ]
[ Hei can't say it bodes well. Not for her -- or her long-term career. ]
[ It doesn't matter. They've both succeeded at this mission. Five dead teammates equal five less cuts on the final payment. There's a tidy sum waiting for the two of them. A quarter of a million dollars, each. Hei's cellphone has already vibrated with the message: FUNDS TRANSFERRED. ]
[ It's a living, he thinks, gazing out the window with a sedate veneer but a tensile edge to his jaw. Forty-eight hours, five eliminated associates, and he's earned $250,000. And all it took was a few scrapes and bruises, a tricky full-immersion identity, and a block of old-fashioned C-4. ]
[ The Syndicate's safehouse is in an old motel, one of twelve pink stucco cottages strung out around a gravel parking lot. The cabin reeks of must, and like everything that night, humidly salty. Switching on the rattling air-conditioner, Hei conducts his careful sweep for bugs across the room. Satisfied, he shrugs off his coat -- stiff with caked blood -- before glancing impassively toward Korra, ]
Take the first shower.
[ He's not being a gentleman. But the widest window for enemy retaliation -- and the Syndicate's own post-mission clean-ups -- occurs in the twelve hours after the successful hit. If they're ambushed, Hei doesn't plan to be naked, dripping wet and unarmed. ]
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Date: 2015-03-29 04:59 am (UTC)[ Except the moment he sinks into her, balls-deep, breathing in short, shocky gasps, all the thoughts gathering quietly under the surface of his mind white out -- a perfect, blown-apart blankness. She feels so fucking good. Everything he's never allowed himself to imagine. Searingly hot, impossibly tight -- she has to have one of the most divine little cunts he's been in. ]
[ Her scream is a live-wire jolt thundering up his spine. She surges back against him, shameless and pliant, gorgeously lust-crippled, her skin yielding a sheen of sweat everywhere. With brutal hands, Hei grips her hips, hitching himself in deeper. Almost lazily traces and kneads the curves of her body -- ass, thighs, spine, ribs, breasts, with a map of ownership. His prick feels enormous, throbbing, filthy with lust, and the way he rides into her is relentless, hard slapping thrusts that rattle the table in a never-faltering rhythm. One hand seizes the spill of her hair, winding it tight in his fist, gripping it like reins, cowboy style, the fingers of the other hand sharp as spurs in her hips. ]
[ Her whole body seems to gulp at his, a liquid peristalsis. So fucking hot -- and he knows he isn't going to last long. But it is a ghost of a thought; he doesn't give a shit. Doesn't care if she comes or not either. If it happens: hoo fucking ray. If not: her nut, her business. ]
[ All he's interested in is the thrill of the ride. In the wicked flash of supremacy as she's forced to take him inside, that sweet yielding clench of inner-muscle. At setting a ruthless pace to make those snapping blue eyes of hers glaze over and her body go boneless and aching and helpless as a kitten being carried by the scruff. ]
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Date: 2015-03-30 03:07 am (UTC)Back up. [She pushes her hips back, trying to make some room for her to touch herself without breaking her wrist against the table.]
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Date: 2015-03-30 03:41 am (UTC)[ When she whips her hand down, he catches it before she can touch herself. Brings it back to the table, his arm outstretched to lay its grip across her wrist. Gnawing the vulnerable line of her neck, he draws more tightly against her, their bodies damp all over with sweat, whip-tense, his gaze alongside hers, so he can see her stymied excitement, her struggle. ]
[ With the other hand, he reaches down, between her thighs, teasing her clit with his fingers as he drives into her from behind -- each touch too light, too brief. Winding her higher, then leaving her quivering on the edge of the precipice, rocked by his increasingly ruthless thrusts that aren't just keeping her there but are, particle by slow particle of pleasure, drawing him inexorably towards his own fall. ]
I'm picturing him whipping out a surprise chastity belt after this
Date: 2015-03-30 08:45 pm (UTC)Fuck. This is taking orgasm denial to a whole new level — from hot frustration that makes the eventual climax all the more satisfying to sexual torture. If he tries to leave her like this, she's going to freeze his balls in ice and set the rest of him on fire, then go into the cantina and fuck the first person who promises to make her come. She's been dying for this orgasm all week. She's not going to let the Black Reaper reaper it.]
/STOMPS ALL OVER RL TO NOM HER TASTY HEIRRA TAGS
Date: 2015-04-03 05:29 am (UTC)[ The realization grips Hei with that red-hot, specific need to explore every facet. Or as much as the next few hours will allow. Did she really think she'd get off that easy -- literally, figuratively? The past few days have built up a merciless pressure inside him. And this latest distraction has got him plenty interested. ]
[ New toys are always interesting. ]
[ He is pushing hard and fast, gasping and dizzy as the table jerks and tree pruners and Garden Weasels shake off their hooks, the two of them rocking together and his fingers tattooing dark bruises into her skin, whole body losing track of any pleasure but his own. With each thrust, it is as if he leaps up another flight of stairs in a headlong chase toward his prey. Crashtackling it -- surging toward climax, his nerve-endings shrieking a helpless chant of Yes after Yes. ]
[ Panting, he sags for a moment against her, embracing that warm sweat-sticky little body. Exhale-inhales deeply, until his heartbeat slows, and then his breaths judder into very brief, very silent laughter, as if he's just finished a race and won. ]
/TACKLES
Date: 2015-04-03 11:29 pm (UTC)He comes and she almost howls, frustration and ache and need.] You're not finished. [She yanks her arm free from his grip and grabs for one of his hands, determined to shove it between her legs. She's going to come, God damn it. She's going to get her satisfaction.]
/CHUUUU
Date: 2015-04-04 12:22 am (UTC)[ In the next beat, he draws his hand away. ]
You don't tell me what to do.
[ Not a rebuke but a cool dismissal. He straightens and steadies and withdraws, the brisk lift of zipper punctuating his words. The condom, he disposes with one bright zap, leaving it an acrid-scented curl across the ground. No reason to leave DNA traces. ]
[ Doing up his belt, he straightens his clothes before reaching out with one hand, hauling her around by a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck. He looms over her, the angles of his face hardening to blot out whatever private satisfaction was there, and when he leans in, it's not a kiss so much as a bite. He cradles her head in his hands like a heavy inanimate object, drawing viciously on her lips, opening them, stabbing his tongue into her -- and then abruptly letting her go. ]
Get dressed. You're coming back to the hotel with me.
/smooches
Date: 2015-04-04 01:02 am (UTC)Besides, that hard biting kiss shows he's no musket -- he's got a few rounds left. If all of them are as intense as the fuck they just had, she'll be very well satisfied.
Still, she doesn't move when he gives his little command.]
Why should I?
u////u<3
Date: 2015-04-04 01:27 am (UTC)[ Dipping his head, he licks her lips -- a fast swipe that's both a promise and threat -- before breathing in her ear. ]
If you don't move, I'm going to make you beg like a bitch. I'll make you crawl and cry for it and then I'm going to jerk off in your face. [ Quieter, the alternative spoken in a hot tender nuzzling against the sensitive crook of her jaw. ] Come back with me -- and I'll give you what you want. As many times as you want it.
[ At least until he's done todging every last stretchable orifice in that sweet little body, all the long miserable days and restless nights on the road drained into her. ]
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Date: 2015-04-04 02:07 am (UTC)Don't make a promise you can't keep.
[She tugs down her bra, wiggles into her pants and boots, and tugs her shirt back over her head, forcing the desire down into a dark box, to be re-opened back at the hotel.]
So let's go. [She slaps his ass for good measure.]
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Date: 2015-04-04 02:43 am (UTC)[ At the hotel, he conducts his instinctive sweep of the entrance, the corridors, the stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that's any different from the way they'd left it. A dim light burns the vestibule orange: unlocking the door and herding Korra through it, Hei regards her in passing. Wildly pretty, dark-haired and mussed, an innocent face and an oddly voluptuous body. A mess of incongruities, inside and out, yet nothing especially singular. Her face could be anyone's face. In the dark, face-down and pillow-muffled across the bed, Hei thinks he could imagine her as anyone he wants. ]
[ Except he doesn't want to imagine anyone. ]
[ The door clicks shut. In a blink he's flowed behind her, both hands gripping her shoulders, then sliding down to palm her breasts, pinching her nipples sharply through her blouse, holding her immobile to maul her neck -- without consideration, but without particular hurry, either. After the first lightning bout, it's clear he has a more leisurely and thorough ravaging planned. ]
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Date: 2015-04-04 03:40 am (UTC)She doesn't even think about pretending he's someone else; that's not how she operates. That shit's for people with active imaginations and low standards. Korra fucks exactly who she wants to fuck. Dick is abundant and low value. And there is something a little intoxicating about it being him in particular. Struggling with him gives her the same rush she felt when they first fought, before he destroyed her life. She fights; he wins, but instead of destruction she gets mind-blowing sex. The psychology of it would be fascinating, if she cared about that sort of thing.
But she doesn't. She just wraps her arms around him and presses herself closer.]
I believe someone promised me what I want. As many times as I want it.
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Date: 2015-04-04 04:12 am (UTC)[ Part of him knows this isn't right, though. He's snatched Korra out of her happy cradle of normalcy, and tossed her into a snake-pit. Fucking her on top of that ... not once but over and over ... Has he really descended right through that nacreous spectrum of right and wrong? ]
[ He doesn't know. But -- fuck, he appreciates what a delicious mouthful the girl is. ]
[ She curls around him, a lewd moist ribboning of arms and legs. Hei doesn't answer her. Slinging an arm around her, he hitches her roughly closer -- a hefty but welcome baggage. Walking deeper into the room, he is already undressing her, yanking her blouse and her bra off over her head, tugging off her boots, wadding and chucking her trousers at the floor. His dick is at half-mast from his jeans. Unbuttoning his shirt first with brisk fingers, he shucks those off too, before depositing Korra heavily at the edge of the bed, eyeing the voluptuous sprawl of her. ]
Lie back. Spread your legs.
[ Iron edges his order. But with it is a renewed hunger. ]
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Date: 2015-04-04 04:41 am (UTC)Are you going to put that tongue of yours to good use?
[The only wrong thing to do in this situation is to not take Korra as the master of her own desires. Stuff that paternalism where the sun don't shine.]
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Date: 2015-04-04 05:21 am (UTC)[ His eyes track the sinuous tick-tocking of her body, a sweetly secret countdown, her hips rippling as if to feed herself to him. But he doesn't reach for her -- or rise to her taunt, his own words impudently flung back at him. A pair of hotel robes lie puddled on a nearby chair. Walking over to them, he pulls the belt off the first robe, before reaching out and grabbing Korra's wrists. Binding them tightly, he secures them to one of the bedposts in a sturdy square knot with his teeth. Wrenches the belt off the second robe, slicing it in half with his switchblade, before her body is stretched to its full length as her ankles are now tied. ]
[ Trussed and spread-eagled, she is like a ripe fruit on display. She has plenty of room to toss and turn, bend her arms and legs -- but she is also utterly rigid, utterly bound, a tight and helpless thing unable to shield her breasts or the glistening pink bit peeping between the scrim of dark curls at her sex. ]
[ The sight of her at his mercy feeds his cock stiffly upright, tucked against his belly. When he finally condescends to touch her, it's idle, almost offhand. Cool fingers coasting her inner-thighs, forcing them wider apart, as wide as they'll go. He flows to his knees at the foot of the bed, his mouth hovering between her legs, only inches above her swollen and mercilessly revealed sex. Her scent -- warm, saltine, heavy -- makes the air sharp. ]
[ He doesn't touch her. His humid breath ruffles her damp curls -- a deliberate tease. Payback for her earlier remark. ]
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Date: 2015-04-04 05:38 am (UTC)She likes how much he's clearly enjoying it, his angry little cock standing completely at attention. Considering what a dick he is, it seems appropriate that his dick is his most expressive body part. Any other time and she would love to watch him touch himself as he looks at her. (She used to do that to Mako — make him masturbate to her naked body. She loved how shy he was about it, how frustrated and needy it made him.) Right now she's too needy herself for that kind of sexual teasing.
She closes her eyes and lets out a ragged sigh as he moves between her legs. But he doesn't touch her. She growls and bucks her hips.]
Pussies aren't just for looking, you know.
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Date: 2015-04-04 06:02 am (UTC)[ But it's just warming her up, and she will learn this as he seals his mouth over her dripping sex, his tongue a steady lapping as he hums low and dark in his throat, the braid of his tones with the licking enough to make her buzz everywhere. The force increases, but it's mercilessly slow, a tantalizing cruelty. ]
[ From stroking her thighs, his right hand moves to cup her mons, the thumb flicking softly across the unattended clit between the thick slurps of his tongue between her lips. Each time her breathing gets ragged, her hips begin rocking insistently, he eases off. Turning his attention sometimes to the pink frill of her inner-lips, flicking and sucking at them. Sometimes to the tight, flexing entrance of her vagina -- or a daring dart of tongue against the pucker of her ass. Sometimes stopping entirely just to cover his mouth across her slippery little cunt, humming deep in his throat so the thrum hits her tenderest parts. ]
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Date: 2015-04-05 01:16 am (UTC)I know you're a fucking tease. Okay? [oh god oh god oh god She moans and writhes.] You've proved your point. [Now let her fucking come!]
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Date: 2015-04-05 01:50 am (UTC)[ But right now he is captured; she is obscenely splendid. ]
[ The flat of his tongue works her exposed sex continually. Not a square inch of her escapes his attentions. Labia, clit, inside, inner thigh, all wet now from his licking. But he's changed rhythm -- tongue tracing slippery whorls around her clit as his thumb probes her slick entrance. The index finger, coated in her fluids, tries her ass, the tight bud flexing as he works his finger deeper into it. Coaxing that primitive jittery energy percolating her body, determined to watch it break like a high wave crashing through her. ]
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Date: 2015-04-05 02:26 am (UTC)Fuck she was so wrong. Except not really, because it doesn't have the same lightning pleasure of vaginal penetration. It's just invasive, but the gall of that invasion makes her entire lower body clench. She shudders as a micro-orgasm runs through her. She thinks it's a kind of orgasm anyway; there's still an unbearable pressure seated in her pelvis, while her limbs feel like boiled noodles, a post-orgasmic state. It's a strange combination of sensations that leave her feeling helpless and desperate.]
Another finger. [She wants to feel more full, more pressure and friction.]
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Date: 2015-04-05 03:08 am (UTC)[ Spreading her sex with the V of his fingers, he fastens his mouth over her clit. Sucks it with a slow gathering pressure, while his thumb rubs the entrance to her vagina, playing with the delicate fringe of tissue. At the same time, he pushes a second slick finger into the puckered entrance of her anus, delving, prodding, while the rapid, almost relentless suckling of her clit continues. Her scent fills his lungs, makes his mind spin on an axis of wild silent sense-memory: seaside, soil, salt. A different body splayed beneath his gorging mouth, a different sex, framed in downy green hair and feeling distinctly more petal-soft and somehow more acrid-tasting across his tongue. ]
[ Forcibly, he shakes his head clear, refusing to let the memory stain this temporary lapse of sex with a reminder of time and mortality, bitterness and betrayal -- ideas that he desperately hopes to obliterate for a few moments at a time. ]
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Date: 2015-04-05 03:24 am (UTC)Just a little harder... Just a little harder and she'll finally be able to come, with a force that could rip her body in two.]
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Date: 2015-04-05 03:46 am (UTC)[ Fingers massaging the clenching heat of her ass, he concentrates only on her clit, tongue swirling it mercilessly, repeatedly, determined to drive her out of her skin with the shrill sensation. With his thumb, he dips between the weeping folds of her sex, angling it carefully until the hard knuckle finds the spongey surface of her g-spot. He rubs at it with a gentle but ruthless pressure, humming in his throat, low and dark and tar-thick, subsuming the secret flutters across her body with a different, discordant set of vibrations. Watching everything play out, all the while, across the hazy blue glints of her eyes, the abiding shiver of her body, the bright tension of her facial muscles. ]
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Date: 2015-04-05 04:04 am (UTC)And she's sobbing. The intensity of her release is enough to bring tears to her eyes as she gasps for air. God that was amazing... She'd even tell him that if she could find the strength to talk, but her every muscle has been sapped of strength. The ties are the only things keeping her from melting into the bed.]
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Date: 2015-04-05 04:28 am (UTC)[ Idly, his gaze drifts across Korra's replete body, the sweat-lank hair and flush-sheened skin, the tears trickling at the corners of her eyes. A picture of debauched satiation, a weakness that seems to have nothing to do with the tremors in her limbs or her sweet glow of exhaustion. ]
[ Hei waits until her pulse has slowed, her breaths coming long and low. Cupping a hand around her kneecaps, he runs his palms up her thighs, spreading them wide. Then he starts again. Lightly, delicately, he works her seeping, sensitive flesh. Takes great care not to over-stimulate or abrade; it wouldn't do to have raw nerves reduce her eagerness or add unneeded pain to the stimulation. Lapping at her entrance with the flat of his tongue, over and over, before flicking the tip across the swollen bead of her clit. Letting her feel the swollen juiciness of her own flesh, but not hurrying to fall into any particular rhythm -- or at least any that isn't his own. ]
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