Rating: M (or R)
Canon: Advent Children
Theme + Number: 56) Ties, 70) Lesson, 76) Empty, 79) Small & 87) Second
Characters/Pairings included: Tseng, Elena, Reno, Yuffie
Warnings: Violence, blood, lime-ish mentions of sexual acts.
Summary: For the second time that night...
Author's Notes: Okay, this was inspired in part by theladygoddess for her Elena/Rude smut, dragons_f_wolf because she pities poor Elena (but we can't have a happy hour since this isn't close to over yet) and pariswriter82 because she rocks, reviews all my stuff, and kinda suggested sex with Tseng and Elena. She has a habit of getting me to write sex or smut....but no smut for her this time. XP
For the second time that night Elena stumbled backwards, this time turning her head and spitting out a mouthful of blood. Tseng could kick pretty damn hard and right now her teeth were screaming at her not to let him kick her in the face yet again.
Okay, this isn’t sparring, damn it! This is a beat on Elena fest and no one told us that. Damn, guess I’m a little overdressed. Maybe I should be wearing a prison uniform and have my hands tied behind my back. Might make this all so much easier. Shit! My jaw hurts.
Elena regained her balance, taking a fighting stance once again. It amazed her how cold and empty he could make himself when he wanted to. Every time she stumbled or fell he didn’t even seem to notice. He just stood there, waited for her to right herself again and then he was at her again. She hadn’t been able to land a single blow yet. Show how much she still had to learn.
She caught his leg moving as it lashed out at her, aiming for her face again. Instinctively her arms went protectively to her face, blocking the blow.
His foot made contact hard with her elbow and with a distinct pop she fell to her knees, screaming. The joint had been knocked into, dislocating her lower arm. She blinked several times trying to see clear again, then he was on her, shoving her back into the dirt, her head hitting the ground hard.
She saw stars for a while, then his face hovering above her, still empty, still cold. He reached down his cold, nimble fingers and grabbed her wrist. She whimpered. Damn did her arm hurt.
He watched her, eyes never changing, and tugged down on her arm, popping it back into place while she screamed beneath him, turning so he couldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall.
“You are careless with your blocking,” he reprimanded. “Let that be a lesson to you.”
She refused to look at him then, panting and bleeding into the dirt. She wanted up now. She was bruised, bleeding, dirty and humiliated, and she wanted him off of her now.
She watched his empty face out of the corner of her eye, under her hair. His face still hadn’t changed, and he showed no intention of moving. Think, Elena, think. Okay, so her throwing arm was wounded and the other one wasn’t good for throwing punches at all. So, what could she do? She could only think of one thing.
She lashed out, dragging her nails deeply across his cheek, feeling his warm blood flow out under her nails and down to her palm. She blinked at the rather deep gashes she had made across his pale, pale cheek, but his eyes remained ever impassive. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just watched her for a moment, then his forehead made contact with hers, hard and she groaned, closing her eyes. Damn it, she was seeing stars again. She could taste blood in her mouth, bitter and grainy, like dirty pennies. She coughed slightly, tilting her head to one side.
His fingers gripped the side of her face tightly, turning her back to face him, his lips pressing against hers, firm, insistent. She gasped, opening her mouth, and then his tongue was inside, her blood flowing over it, kissing her like he had that night. She fought against it at first, trying to turn her head from his firm grip, but she was soon giving in, wrapping her arms around his neck (ignoring the pain that shot up her arm when she did so) and kissing him back, tasting her blood on his tongue. It was disturbing and at the same time, strangely erotic. She couldn’t quite understand it.
His lips left her mouth, trailing down her neck, warm and firm, insistent. She closed her eyes, tried to keep a level head, but his lips were not helping. She could feel his hands tugging her shirt out of her pants, the crisp one fabric lifting up and his firm hands sliding beneath it, shifting up to caress her skin, to cup her breasts through her bra. She whimpered, a pitiful sound that he seemed to love so dearly.
His lips met hers again as he pulled her up so she was sitting, long fingers unbuttoning her shirt, then shoving it off of her, watching it flutter to the dirt again, before his lips met his neck again. She bit her lip, willing herself not to make anymore noise, but she couldn’t seem to help herself when he was touching her. His fingers skimmed across her back, unhooking her bra and he pulled back from her long enough to remove it, throwing it to join her shirt. She hated that, being half naked in front of him, hated the way his eyes drank her in. It made her feel horrible self-conscious, and made her want to crawl under a rock somewhere.
He let go of his grip on her long enough to pull his own shirt over his head and tossing it to join hers.
Okay, so he evened the playing field a little bit, but he’s a guy and thus does not have anything embarrassing that needs to be covered there.
Yep, her brain was at it again.
Elena watched him curiously as he placed soft kisses along her collarbone, surprisingly tender considering the crazed, angry look in his eyes. It was enough to make her let her guard down, which of course, she would realize later, was a big mistake, because the next thing she knew he had taken one of her nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, biting down hard enough to make her let out a sound half way between a scream and a moan as he lashed his tongue across it, before repeating the same action with the other, then pressed his lips to hers again.
She whimpered, kissing him back in a haze. Damn him. What was he doing to her? What kind of a game was he playing?
She felt his fingers dance down his stomach. Her stomach clenched and sucked in. Damn him. And then, damn, he was unfastening her pants and sliding a hand inside, reaching down to stroke her with his firm fingers. She gasped, pulling her lips away from his and arching her head back. She could feel him smirking against her neck. This was all a game, she decided. A way to prove he could control her. “It’s starting to rain, sir,” she gasped out, trying to ignore his fingers touching her in the most intimate of places.
“What is your point, Elena?”
She had a point, really she did, but then his thumb flickered over her clit and she forgot what that point was entirely.
He ended up taking her there, her back pressed against the rapidly muddying ground, and taking her was the only way to put it. There was nothing slow or tender about it, it was all feral and strong, quick, harsh thrusts that made her moan and scream and cry at the same time, because while the pain wasn’t unbearable, it was still painful. And that wasn’t even the part that made her cry, it was the fact that somewhere inside of her, the darkest most animalistic part of her was enjoying him slamming into her, rain dripping down around them, mud pressed against her back, against his palms. She enjoyed watching the rage in his eyes, watching his hair cling to his face, loved the way he didn’t even seem to be seeing her the whole time, but that feeling didn’t last long, because as soon as they had both gone over the edge and all was said and done, he had turned away, now knowing she was there, and refusing to look at her.
She had made a mistake again. She couldn’t understand though, if it didn’t hurt so badly last time, why did it make her chest hurt this time?
“What happened to your lip?”
Elena shrugged, sipping her tea carefully while the young ninja looked at her split lip with an expression that could only be described as worried. “Sparred with Tseng last night.”
“Oh, so that’s what they call it now days, huh?”
“Fuck you, Reno.”
“Ouch!” He grabbed his chest, rather melodramatically, and put on his best hurt expression. “Does that mean you don’t love me anymore, Laney?”
Elena sighed and turned her attention back to Yuffie. “Anyway, he made contact with my face and ta-da. Split lip and bruised jaw. Fun, fun, fun.” Okay, so sarcasm was a rarity for her, but still. She felt the need for it at that moment.
“Elena.” The Wutaian princess sighed. “I thought I told you to be careful around Tseng.”
“Yuffie, it wasn’t on purpose-”
“Do you know how easy it would be for him to lose his temper and hurt you? Badly?”
“How do you know that?”
“He just won’t.”
“Elena, he could.”
“But he won’t, Yuffie.”
Both women glared at the red-haired Turk. “What?”
“I hate to break up this little estrogen fight, but isn’t that Tseng outside pointing his gun at someone’s head?”
“Fuck.” Elena watched in amazement as Yuffie took off running out the door, her and Reno following shortly after.
“Tseng, stop!” The young ninja was running towards them, but the Turk didn’t even look up.
The princess slowly approached him, sighing. “Tseng, put the gun away. This isn’t the answer.”
“He wouldn’t let me see it, Yuffie.”
“I know. But, please, put the gun away.”
“She was my mother.”
“I had every right to see it.”
“I know, Tseng, but please, please put the gun away.”
She held up a hand. “Elena, don’t.”
Tentatively the young ninja placed a hand on the Turk’s arm and even from where she was, she could see the muscles in that arm tense.
Yuffie started speaking to him, slowly, quietly, the smooth, crisp language they had both grown up with flowing freely. Elena had only heard Wutaian spoken maybe two times before in her life, but recognized it when she heard it.
She watched Tseng’s face, cold and arrogant start to crumble, then the gun fell from his hands and he collapsed to his knees, dragging the princess down with him and began sobbing, burying his face against her shoulder.
That wasn’t what surprised Elena the most though. What did was the young girl wrapping her arms around the crying Turk, stroking his hair back, whispering more words in Wutain in his ear, letting him fall apart in her arms, telling him, Elena assumed, that the people who had ran out there would help put him back together again.