Speed of Flow [Eureka 7 | Anemone/Dominic | R]
Title: Speed of Flow
By: worblehat
Fandom: Eureka Seven
Pairing: Anemone/Dominic
Rating: R
Summary: Prompt was - Eureka 7, Anemone/Dominic Sorel: Establishing ownership* - A passion junky's fix is never satisfied/you're never gonna break his heart/so have some fun, abuse it.
Notes: Written for springkink. Self-beta'd.
Word count: 1,343
"Anemone," says Dominic, meaning it to sound gentle but it comes out all strained, her hands a lot lower than he's used to in the spacious room that echoes. He's not used to her touching much at all, though he's often wanted to touch her - to push her hair back from her face when she lets it hang over, hiding her eyes; to caress her cheek; to hold her hand; to do the sorts of things couples did.
"Did you say something, Dominic?" Anemone giggles, the giddiness not fully worn off from the shot earlier. She's still in her TheEND uniform and it feels weird against his back when she holds him tight, restricting his movements.
"Maybe you should lie down first," he says, looking at her over his shoulder. She grabs his chin, forcing it forward and away from her, his gaze rooted to the wall. Her hands scramble to undo his belt and he gasps, not sure what to do. He doesn't want to hurt her and in her current state, Anemone is still capable of hurting him a lot faster than he can defend himself - fatally so, if she didn't feel like being careful.
Her hold remains firm, not letting go of his chin - her other hand working on his belt. She undoes his fly and her thin, warm fingers slide between the uniform and the dark, navy blue boxers he chose to wear beforehand. It doesn't take more than a few seconds to get him hard beneath her palm and she rubs, whispering his name, tongue licking the shell of his ear once. Anenome laughs when Dominic shivers, delighted at how easy he is to manipulate and pushing down the desire to slow down, to do this more sweetly; to be held. Right now, Dominic is hers and it's the only thought she can hold onto.
But the hesitation grows and there's hesitation - a small voice in the back of her mind screaming to stop, stop! - and she pulls away, as if disgusted. Dominic's trousers remain undone and he waits, watching her lie down on her bed.
After a while, she turns to him, her left eye hidden behind the hair that falls in unbound strands. Stretching out one arm, she tells him: "Come here, I'm bored."
Dominic walks over, one hand keeping his trousers up, standing just next to the edge of the bed frame. Her fingertips scratch along his stomach, beneath the shirt under his uniformed jacket; she lifts it up when he flinches, noting the red lines.
Anemone sits up abruptly, a maniacal grin on her face. "You're mine," she says. "Aren't you? All mine."
In spite of the awkward situation, Dominic blushes; he wants it to be true, but he never knows how long these down times with Anemone will last, so he says, "Yes, I'm yours" - and lets her tug down on his collar, biting him. He forces himself not to flinch, to let her do as she wants; and a perverse, hopeful part of him knows that he'll look at the mark later that night, running his fingers over it and staring, willing the dark bruise to remain as long as possible; though he'll make sure to cover it so that she doesn't tease him the next day.
Her teeth hurt and dig in sharply, again and again, gnashing the skin. Dominic feels a hot sucking sensation and hisses, unable to stop himself from reacting before Anemone pulls away, licking at the sides of her mouth, a faint smear of red colouring her otherwise pale face.
The bed shifts as she sits up on her knees, hands ripping his jacket open - laughing as she does so. "Are you going to get in trouble? Hmm? For me?"
"For a ripped uniform?" he asks, and that's as far as he gets because her hands are even hotter this time, scratching once and gripping his waist, forcing him towards her, their hips bumping. "Maybe we should stop before-"
Her fingers find his tongue fast and she holds it, eyes wide and slightly unfocused. "No more talking for you," she says, tugging it threateningly. "Unless you want me to rip this out."
Dominic shakes his head but Anemone keeps holding on, tugging and tugging; lowering her mouth near his, lips parting and fingers directing the offensive tongue to slip against hers. Dominic's eyes stay wide as Anemone kisses him, drinks him in, her breathing fast and irregular. Her hands are shaking a little and he places his own hands on top of them, his heart beating faster when she relaxes at his touch.
It speeds even faster as she leans back, Dominic landing on his knees, onto the soft cushion and between her legs. He doesn't know what he's doing, hormones and the sight of Anemone making him feel heady. Her hands are pulling and tugging, loosening their clothes; her fingers are wrapped partly through his, guiding them to the skin that's wet and waiting. He slips one finger in, the heel of his palm rubbing and rubbing until Anemone's face tightens and she slaps his hand away.
Dominic wants to ask what's wrong but she's reversed their positions and now he's on his back, timidly reaching forward to touch her now-exposed stomach. Anemone barely glanced at him as her hands find his erection, pulling down on the trousers and boxers that are only getting in her way. He waits and watches, mild horror on his face.
"Anemone, no-"
"Shut up, Dominic," she hisses, straddling him. Her fingertips are cold but they're soon replaced with heat that slowly slides down on top of him. Anemone's head is low, her long hair tickling his arms; she sinks lower and lower until Dominic gasps.
"We...We should wait," he says, and means it; this isn't how he's wanted it to be, with Anemone half strung-out. He wants to value, cherish, worship, hold her - all the things he's pretty sure are written in romance novels. But his desires are silenced when she leans down, her body already moving back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of her. Her mouth is above his but she doesn't kiss him, not this time; she's too focused on her movements, arms tense on either side of Dominic.
A minute passes, and then another; and it's well into the third minute when she finally looks at him, raising her head to meet scared blue eyes. She snorts.
"What are you so worried about?" she asks, still moving.
"I don't want to hurt you, Anemone," he answers. His hand hasn't moved from her stomach, and he can feel the muscles tightening and contracting each time she sinks down.
Her lips curve into a smile; her eyes are slowly clearing, and he know it won't be long before she collapses. He knows that's what's driving her to go faster, to make everything happen in the few minutes she has before everything rushes back.
"Maybe I want you to hurt me, hmm?" she says, her voice sickeningly sweet.
"Annnnnnnnnemone," slurs Dominic, trying to get out a protest but she's tightening around him - whether on purpose or not, he doesn't know. But it prompts his body to move, to push up, driving into her. Anemone's arms are a little unsteady but she remains upright enough as he continues, until his eyes are closing and her name is gasped from hesitant lips.
Anemone throws her head back, hair sweeping upward and down to fall against her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling when she feels that burst of warmth inside, Dominic spilling between her legs. It's strange and messy and wet, and Anemone laughs before falling forward, resting on top of Dominic.
He waits, quiet as her breathing steadies; brushes the hair from her face, looking up at the smooth brow, caressing the forehead, then cheeks. Their skin sticks together awkwardly but he doesn't move, listening to Anemone breathing against his chest, arms sliding around her back and holding.
By: worblehat
Fandom: Eureka Seven
Pairing: Anemone/Dominic
Rating: R
Summary: Prompt was - Eureka 7, Anemone/Dominic Sorel: Establishing ownership* - A passion junky's fix is never satisfied/you're never gonna break his heart/so have some fun, abuse it.
Notes: Written for springkink. Self-beta'd.
Word count: 1,343
"Anemone," says Dominic, meaning it to sound gentle but it comes out all strained, her hands a lot lower than he's used to in the spacious room that echoes. He's not used to her touching much at all, though he's often wanted to touch her - to push her hair back from her face when she lets it hang over, hiding her eyes; to caress her cheek; to hold her hand; to do the sorts of things couples did.
"Did you say something, Dominic?" Anemone giggles, the giddiness not fully worn off from the shot earlier. She's still in her TheEND uniform and it feels weird against his back when she holds him tight, restricting his movements.
"Maybe you should lie down first," he says, looking at her over his shoulder. She grabs his chin, forcing it forward and away from her, his gaze rooted to the wall. Her hands scramble to undo his belt and he gasps, not sure what to do. He doesn't want to hurt her and in her current state, Anemone is still capable of hurting him a lot faster than he can defend himself - fatally so, if she didn't feel like being careful.
Her hold remains firm, not letting go of his chin - her other hand working on his belt. She undoes his fly and her thin, warm fingers slide between the uniform and the dark, navy blue boxers he chose to wear beforehand. It doesn't take more than a few seconds to get him hard beneath her palm and she rubs, whispering his name, tongue licking the shell of his ear once. Anenome laughs when Dominic shivers, delighted at how easy he is to manipulate and pushing down the desire to slow down, to do this more sweetly; to be held. Right now, Dominic is hers and it's the only thought she can hold onto.
But the hesitation grows and there's hesitation - a small voice in the back of her mind screaming to stop, stop! - and she pulls away, as if disgusted. Dominic's trousers remain undone and he waits, watching her lie down on her bed.
After a while, she turns to him, her left eye hidden behind the hair that falls in unbound strands. Stretching out one arm, she tells him: "Come here, I'm bored."
Dominic walks over, one hand keeping his trousers up, standing just next to the edge of the bed frame. Her fingertips scratch along his stomach, beneath the shirt under his uniformed jacket; she lifts it up when he flinches, noting the red lines.
Anemone sits up abruptly, a maniacal grin on her face. "You're mine," she says. "Aren't you? All mine."
In spite of the awkward situation, Dominic blushes; he wants it to be true, but he never knows how long these down times with Anemone will last, so he says, "Yes, I'm yours" - and lets her tug down on his collar, biting him. He forces himself not to flinch, to let her do as she wants; and a perverse, hopeful part of him knows that he'll look at the mark later that night, running his fingers over it and staring, willing the dark bruise to remain as long as possible; though he'll make sure to cover it so that she doesn't tease him the next day.
Her teeth hurt and dig in sharply, again and again, gnashing the skin. Dominic feels a hot sucking sensation and hisses, unable to stop himself from reacting before Anemone pulls away, licking at the sides of her mouth, a faint smear of red colouring her otherwise pale face.
The bed shifts as she sits up on her knees, hands ripping his jacket open - laughing as she does so. "Are you going to get in trouble? Hmm? For me?"
"For a ripped uniform?" he asks, and that's as far as he gets because her hands are even hotter this time, scratching once and gripping his waist, forcing him towards her, their hips bumping. "Maybe we should stop before-"
Her fingers find his tongue fast and she holds it, eyes wide and slightly unfocused. "No more talking for you," she says, tugging it threateningly. "Unless you want me to rip this out."
Dominic shakes his head but Anemone keeps holding on, tugging and tugging; lowering her mouth near his, lips parting and fingers directing the offensive tongue to slip against hers. Dominic's eyes stay wide as Anemone kisses him, drinks him in, her breathing fast and irregular. Her hands are shaking a little and he places his own hands on top of them, his heart beating faster when she relaxes at his touch.
It speeds even faster as she leans back, Dominic landing on his knees, onto the soft cushion and between her legs. He doesn't know what he's doing, hormones and the sight of Anemone making him feel heady. Her hands are pulling and tugging, loosening their clothes; her fingers are wrapped partly through his, guiding them to the skin that's wet and waiting. He slips one finger in, the heel of his palm rubbing and rubbing until Anemone's face tightens and she slaps his hand away.
Dominic wants to ask what's wrong but she's reversed their positions and now he's on his back, timidly reaching forward to touch her now-exposed stomach. Anemone barely glanced at him as her hands find his erection, pulling down on the trousers and boxers that are only getting in her way. He waits and watches, mild horror on his face.
"Anemone, no-"
"Shut up, Dominic," she hisses, straddling him. Her fingertips are cold but they're soon replaced with heat that slowly slides down on top of him. Anemone's head is low, her long hair tickling his arms; she sinks lower and lower until Dominic gasps.
"We...We should wait," he says, and means it; this isn't how he's wanted it to be, with Anemone half strung-out. He wants to value, cherish, worship, hold her - all the things he's pretty sure are written in romance novels. But his desires are silenced when she leans down, her body already moving back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of her. Her mouth is above his but she doesn't kiss him, not this time; she's too focused on her movements, arms tense on either side of Dominic.
A minute passes, and then another; and it's well into the third minute when she finally looks at him, raising her head to meet scared blue eyes. She snorts.
"What are you so worried about?" she asks, still moving.
"I don't want to hurt you, Anemone," he answers. His hand hasn't moved from her stomach, and he can feel the muscles tightening and contracting each time she sinks down.
Her lips curve into a smile; her eyes are slowly clearing, and he know it won't be long before she collapses. He knows that's what's driving her to go faster, to make everything happen in the few minutes she has before everything rushes back.
"Maybe I want you to hurt me, hmm?" she says, her voice sickeningly sweet.
"Annnnnnnnnemone," slurs Dominic, trying to get out a protest but she's tightening around him - whether on purpose or not, he doesn't know. But it prompts his body to move, to push up, driving into her. Anemone's arms are a little unsteady but she remains upright enough as he continues, until his eyes are closing and her name is gasped from hesitant lips.
Anemone throws her head back, hair sweeping upward and down to fall against her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling when she feels that burst of warmth inside, Dominic spilling between her legs. It's strange and messy and wet, and Anemone laughs before falling forward, resting on top of Dominic.
He waits, quiet as her breathing steadies; brushes the hair from her face, looking up at the smooth brow, caressing the forehead, then cheeks. Their skin sticks together awkwardly but he doesn't move, listening to Anemone breathing against his chest, arms sliding around her back and holding.