Twilight -- Hell Hath No Fury [Jacob/Irina]
Title: Hell Hath No Fury
Author: Mariusgirl
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Jacob/Irina
Word Count: 679
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She's breaking him faster than he's burning her. Pleasure today, bruises tomorrow.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
She came here intent on exacting her revenge. Anger sizzling like the midday sun she envisions all the horrific things she will do to the wolves once she has them in her clutches. Of course, she has to pick them off one at a time otherwise she runs the risk of being overpowered and sedated by the pack.
Sedated. She doesn’t think killed. It’s a small distinction, but it doesn’t send shivers of panic running down her spine. She knows she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be attempting to right what she thinks is a grave injustice, but she can’t let it go. Won’t let it go. And she likes to think he would have done the same for her.
Clouds drift by on a light breeze as she straddles the boundary line between what she knows is Cullen land and wolf territory. Every now and then the sun peeks through, struggling to filter through the massive tangle of branches and treetops overhead. Seconds tick by, but she doesn’t notice the time because it doesn’t take long before she catches the sent of a lone male wolf. It’s overpowering and she resists the urge to gag. Seconds later, she’s face to face with her first victim - the object of her hatred - all illusions are swept away, leaving nothing behind but a nightmare that fills the aching void in her heart.
He’s huge!
Of all the things she envisions the wolves to be, this is not her biggest concern, but standing in his dark shadow she suddenly fells utterly childish. Like a ship lost at sea, she’s lost her mooring - completely out of her league - but only for a moment.
Clad in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, she can’t help be let her eyes sweep across the mass of exposed flesh. The bugle of muscles wrapped around his arms, the well formed chest, the hands that hand in tight fists at his side - images of things he could do to her flicker through her mind, not all terrible - and she shivers despite herself.
His muscles are taunt, ready for a fight, and his dark eyes are cold, hard - tiny slits of loathing and disgust. She bridles at what she sees there and her anger explodes from beneath the surface as she remembers why she came.
Insults are flung like mud across the line. Back and forth, growing more vitriolic and low hitting with each passing word.
She doesn’t know who crossed the line first, her or him, or why it happened, but suddenly instead of straddling the boundary line, she’s on top of the wolf. His scent is all around her, burning her nose, but she ignores the little voice that is screaming at her to rip, tear, kill.
Her lips crash into his and she feels a slight surge of triumph when he whimpers with the faintest sensation of pain from the impact.
He’s fire, trying vainly to thaw the perfect ice sculpture beneath his hands. Arms wrapped so tightly around her, he can almost feel her melting into him. She doesn’t hold back. Marble hands latch onto his shoulders as they follow the rhythm of his steadily beating heart drumming out an erratic rock cadence. Her eyes are pale slits of golden ecstasy as his lips trail over her chin, down her throat, towards her collarbone. Her hands grasping his shoulders so tight it hurts. She’s breaking him faster than he’s burning her. Pleasure today, bruises tomorrow.
For one brief second his heart skips a beat as another face flashes before his eyes, but it’s gone before he can grasp it, and he’s left with only an aching, empty feeling burning in his heart, and the cold arms of a woman he doesn’t even know. Doe brown burns away in the wake of tarnished gold and all he can think is I wish it was you.
It’s not his face she see’s when she closes her eyes, and she’s not the one he wants, but for the heartbeat they are together, they are all the other needs.
Author: Mariusgirl
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Jacob/Irina
Word Count: 679
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She's breaking him faster than he's burning her. Pleasure today, bruises tomorrow.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
She came here intent on exacting her revenge. Anger sizzling like the midday sun she envisions all the horrific things she will do to the wolves once she has them in her clutches. Of course, she has to pick them off one at a time otherwise she runs the risk of being overpowered and sedated by the pack.
Sedated. She doesn’t think killed. It’s a small distinction, but it doesn’t send shivers of panic running down her spine. She knows she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be attempting to right what she thinks is a grave injustice, but she can’t let it go. Won’t let it go. And she likes to think he would have done the same for her.
Clouds drift by on a light breeze as she straddles the boundary line between what she knows is Cullen land and wolf territory. Every now and then the sun peeks through, struggling to filter through the massive tangle of branches and treetops overhead. Seconds tick by, but she doesn’t notice the time because it doesn’t take long before she catches the sent of a lone male wolf. It’s overpowering and she resists the urge to gag. Seconds later, she’s face to face with her first victim - the object of her hatred - all illusions are swept away, leaving nothing behind but a nightmare that fills the aching void in her heart.
He’s huge!
Of all the things she envisions the wolves to be, this is not her biggest concern, but standing in his dark shadow she suddenly fells utterly childish. Like a ship lost at sea, she’s lost her mooring - completely out of her league - but only for a moment.
Clad in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, she can’t help be let her eyes sweep across the mass of exposed flesh. The bugle of muscles wrapped around his arms, the well formed chest, the hands that hand in tight fists at his side - images of things he could do to her flicker through her mind, not all terrible - and she shivers despite herself.
His muscles are taunt, ready for a fight, and his dark eyes are cold, hard - tiny slits of loathing and disgust. She bridles at what she sees there and her anger explodes from beneath the surface as she remembers why she came.
Insults are flung like mud across the line. Back and forth, growing more vitriolic and low hitting with each passing word.
She doesn’t know who crossed the line first, her or him, or why it happened, but suddenly instead of straddling the boundary line, she’s on top of the wolf. His scent is all around her, burning her nose, but she ignores the little voice that is screaming at her to rip, tear, kill.
Her lips crash into his and she feels a slight surge of triumph when he whimpers with the faintest sensation of pain from the impact.
He’s fire, trying vainly to thaw the perfect ice sculpture beneath his hands. Arms wrapped so tightly around her, he can almost feel her melting into him. She doesn’t hold back. Marble hands latch onto his shoulders as they follow the rhythm of his steadily beating heart drumming out an erratic rock cadence. Her eyes are pale slits of golden ecstasy as his lips trail over her chin, down her throat, towards her collarbone. Her hands grasping his shoulders so tight it hurts. She’s breaking him faster than he’s burning her. Pleasure today, bruises tomorrow.
For one brief second his heart skips a beat as another face flashes before his eyes, but it’s gone before he can grasp it, and he’s left with only an aching, empty feeling burning in his heart, and the cold arms of a woman he doesn’t even know. Doe brown burns away in the wake of tarnished gold and all he can think is I wish it was you.
It’s not his face she see’s when she closes her eyes, and she’s not the one he wants, but for the heartbeat they are together, they are all the other needs.