demon limbs

                luke wanted her protests to cease. lips sucked at her skin– hard, and after a moment he pulled back only enough to look at the dark bruise and drag his tongue over it slowly. “i do feel better,” he held her gaze– his own with a certain intensity in the moonlight. slightly, his jaw tightened. “alright?” he meant it. fingertips glided so very GENTLY up the side of rory’s thigh. luke was a boy who talked fast and his hard, yet here he was being every so soft with her. the corner of his mouth turned upwards in the smallest smirk, and he didn’t break eye contact. he wanted to see this. luke’s hand crept over her leg until it was between them, sliding up quickly, now– he was impatient. lips grazed over hers at the exact moment his hand was stopped– he’d moved it upwards as far as it could go. luke nipped at her bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth and wasted no time before moving his fingers against her panties, slowly, but firmly. 

                 her heartbeat quickened, and she felt as if it was going to beat right out of her chest as luke’s mouth did a number on her neck. as the boy held her gaze, she searched his eyes, looking for a sign of deception. but there was none. she nodded slowly. when luke moved his hand between her legs, she inhaled sharply, audibly. ❛ luke. ❜ she whispered against his lips, and there was a certain tremble to her voice. she was flustered, and she was struggling to hide it. the shade of pink on her cheeks darkened and her fingers wrapped around luke’s arm, nails digging in slightly. she wasn’t trying to get him to STOP, she just needed to hold onto something. pressing her lips against his, she began moving her hips with his hand a little mindlessly, letting out soft moans as she did.

❝ Aw, did you think something terrible happened? ❞ She was so worried and Luke felt a little bit guilty. He hadn’t even thought of her for the past couple days. Just a whole lot of anger, regret, and self-hatred. It wasn’t terrible to him ( he was used to it ) but the boy had gotten into a LOT of trouble. His father didn’t love it in the slightest. His brother made sure he knew it. The bruises were under his shirt and hidden– what was he worried about? Reaching out without thinking about it and exposing his fingers slightly, he thumbed at her flushed cheeks.  They’d never done… much. She’d always insisted that she didn’t care and wasn’t interested, though Luke’s arrogance had difficulty believing it. Her eyes fell to his lips, and Luke knew she wanted them. His mouth moved back to her neck, and this time he didn’t come back out, sucking and kissing at her tender flesh long enough to leave m a r k s.

                ❛ don’t mock me, luke -- i was really worried. ❜

God, he wanted to. It was how he dealt with his… feelings. Fighting or fucking. Healthy, right? Maybe he should just tell her to throw up her fists and give it to her good like that— no– fuck, her face wouldn’t look so Goddamn good like that. Luke was grasping at the end of his string when it came to keeping hold of his SANITY. He wished she’d stop touching him… no, he really, really wished she didn’t.  ❝ I can— I can control myself, Margot, ❞ He hissed out before ungritting his teeth and letting his tongue slide over his lips.  ❝ Remember how, when I was giving it to you… really good, you wouldn’t fucking beg? Remember? Well, I’m not going to either, so– so– what… what are you… trying to accomplish— fuck– ❞ His breathing hitched. Fuck, he was so turned on, it wasn’t fair. Just like the whine that accidentally escaped his lips before he could help it.  Suddenly he grabbed the top of her thigh  and dug his nails. 

God, she was adorable. Adorable in the sense that he always wanted her close– he always wanted to mess with her… because then she was even more adorable. He was surprised he’d gotten away with that, but not everyone was as overly-perceptive as himself. The wry smirk returned at her reaction.  ❝ I told you, Rory. I’m hungry. And since you didn’t bring any snacks… ❞ He leaned in again, impulsively, but that didn’t matter. This time, his lips met hers and he SUCKED gently, hiding his hand in the sheets on the other side of her before hovering close. After a moment, his lips moved to her neck and his tongue slipped out, licking her there, too.  Bright eyes looked up to catch hers and he stopped. They were full of curiosity, but mostly just mischief. He was distracting her– easily too. Anything to put off talking about his problems. Anything. ❝ … Thanks for coming. ❞

Rory laughed a little nervously as he spoke, watching his movements carefully. Her cheeks only grew more and more red by the second. As Luke pulled his lips away from hers, she followed them a little mindlessly before catching herself. She let out a shaky breath at his lips-- and his tongue-- on her neck, and she felt so stupid because she didn’t know what to do with  herself. She had gotten so flustered at the slightest  touches of his lips. She couldn’t help it. A small smile spread across her lips as he thanked her.  ❝ I’m glad you’re okay. I really did miss you. ❞ She bit into her  bottom lip, her eyes wandering down to his. 

❝ It’s fine. You’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all fi– Fuck. ❞ Luke looked down only to see that he’d half-hazardously smudged blood on her porcelain– slightly red– skin. From his fingers. Shrugging off the covers, he settled into the bed next to her and bit his lip, wondering if she’d even notice. Fingers curled into his palms– he hid them well. He his most things well, like his arms under the hoodie, the paranoia from his eyes. Maybe, not so much.  ❝ We just have to be quiet… I think. Probably not, they didn’t care when I was… ❞  Yelling earlier. He didn’t finish the sentence.  ❝ Don’t apologize. I’m glad you came. ❞ He meant it, giving her a small smile of sincerity before his eyes were drawn back to the stain. He couldn’t do this. Leaning in, the dark-haired boy kissed her cheek. Kissed the blood… and then he licked a little, making sure to wipe the metallic taste off her skin. She might have noticed after that.

❝ What? What is it? ❞ She asked, searching his eyes a little. Something was bothering him, but she couldn’t tell what it  was. She watched him carefully as he shrugged the covers off of them, her eyebrows furrowing curiously when Luke  failed to finish his sentence. She decided it was probably best to drop it ----- she didn’t want to upset him. A smile  formed on her lips as he smiled at her, again feeling the warmth at the pit of her stomach. Her cheeks became hot at the touch of his lips, and even hotter when she felt his tongue slide over her skin ever so slightly.  ❝ W-what---- What are you doing, L-Luke? ❞ She stuttered out, finding it difficult to steady her words. She always did when she  was nervous or flustered, and right then she was both.

I don’t know which is worse;;

A sly smirk found his way onto Luke’s lips as he watched. He wasn’t going to offer any more help– his instructions were very clear. He never liked making things easy, either, and it looked like she already knew that. When she MISSED, he let out a laugh, much louder than he’d meant.  ❝ ’Crap’ ❞ Luke mocked, using her voice, so very amused that she didn’t swear. When she began to climb, however, a noise wiped the smile off his face and made his skin lose two shades of color. { ‘ LUCALION? ‘ } Muffled. They were being too loud. Panic hitched in his gut and the boy quickly reached over and heaved Rory inside and onto his bed before grasping up the rope as quickly as he could.  ❝ Fuck. ❞ The last thing he saw was a shadow in the grass– presumably a Sinclair checking on his window from the outside– before he ducked and dropped down, pulling the covers over them both. Fingers clasped over Rory’s lips. His body pressed against hers, nearly protective. He was asleep– He was going to keep her safe. After a moment,  and nothing, he untensed and let go of her lips– but that was it.  

A heavy sigh left her lips as she was dropped onto his mattress, propping herself up onto her elbows as Luke frantically reeled the rope back in through the window.  ❝ Luke, what’s wro--- ❞ Before she could finish, she felt Luke’s fingers over her mouth, her cheeks flushing at the proximity. She silently thanked the Gods for the darkness, making it impossible for Luke to see.  When the boy took his hand back, she could only assume that it was safe to speak again. Just in case, she kept her voice  at a low, but frantic whisper.  ❝ I-Is everything okay? I’m not  going to get you in trouble, am I? I shouldn’t have come-- I’m-- I-I was just so worried a-and I had to see you---I’m sorry. ❞

Of course. ❝ Nerd, ❞ he corrected. Luke looked her over– God, was she in a dress? He supposed it wasn’t entirely ridiculous. It was a warm night and she probably didn’t have jeans in her closet. It warmed his heart, ever so slightly, that Rory missed him. Cared about him. Unless, he was just feeling a little bit tired and confused. –Probably just that.  ❝ I’m perfectly fine. Now, listen up. Y’see that fucking bush, right over there? There’s rope in it. Use that excellent aim to throw the hook at the end up here and climb. ❞ He crossed his arms and stood back so that the metal tied to the end could grapple at the window sill. She’d be able to scale the wall easily, then– he’d done it a thousand times. It can’t have been that hard.  ❝ Can’t fucking believe you didn’t bring SNACKS, ❞ he complained, slightly relieved that she was coming up because there was a less of a chance his mother spotting her. 

❝ How the fuck did you even find my house? Creep. ❞  He couldn’t help but grin at the courtesy, knowing that the idea must have been spawned from the nickname he’d bestowed upon her highness. Luke shrugged, pleased at how much better he felt just having her in view.  ❝ Yeah… I’m grounded. Something about getting shit grades— No, no it was the cops delivering me the doorstep two days ago after I got caught ‘trespassing’ or whatever.  No big deal. ❞ He rolled his eyes, only wondering if Rory could even see him. That’s what he did– trivialize his problems. Normalize them. It was no big deal– really.  ❝  Please tell me you brought snacks. Because if you didn’t— then good-fucking-night and thank you for dropping by, princess. ❞

❝ The school has this nifty thing called the student directory. Makes stalking you super easy. ❞ She let out a small laugh, shoving her hands into the pockets of her thin jacket. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes up at the boy as he explained why he hadn’t been around. Of course he had gotten into trouble. She pouted.  ❝ Well, I’ve been worried. You can’t just drop off the grid like that.... ---It’s a big deal to me. ❞ She narrowed her eyes slightly as he inquired about snacks, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.  ❝ I didn’t bring any, but you’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving. Either you come down here, or tell me how to get up there. I’m not taking no for an answer, so you can just save your oh so precious breath. I have to make sure you’re okay. ❞

The moon was up and he was pacing, somewhat grateful that the floorboards beneath his feet didn’t creak and draw the attention of any member of his family downstairs. Not that anyone had come to check on him in a while. The boy examined his fingers– the tips specifically. At first, the pain had been non-existent– when he was desperately clawing at the locked floor-latch that was the way out. It was only after he’d given up and noticed the crimson that the stinging of lodged splinters and split skin set him. As he paced, he’d worked on pulling them out, distress slowly dissipating because he had something to focus on. The pain. At the sudden CLINK, he jolted, drawn out of the reverie of overthinking and anger and to his window. Reaching out, he pulled it open. It was less of a window and more of a bit of broken glass barely covering the top of a large archway overlooking the side of the Sinclair house– luckily her rock had chipped a bit of it. Much to his surprise, a blonde figure two stories down peered up at him, familiar… and welcome.  ❝  I’ll give you a nine for the impeccable aim and ability to even throw this high, ❞  he started, stepping over his floor-mattress so he could lean against the window’s frame and cross his arms with that ‘Luke Sinclair always-judging’ persona.  ❝ But only a two for being… a literal high-school romance cliche. ❞

After getting out of the car, she spent some time trying to find some way up. There was none. Rummaging through the grass, she found a good sized rock. She didn’t want to yell and alarm his family, so it would have to do. With a hard swing of her arm, the rock went flying towards his window, landing with a loud thump. She could only hope that he heard it && came to the window.

It was fine. Everything was fine. He wasn’t that hard. He could still focus on the teachers droning voice and pick it apart meticulously in an effort not to think about her hand— and making an irritated teacher’s explanation of how to write in MLA format sound interesting is not an easy job. He looked straight ahead, fingers gripping the edge of the desk until his marred knuckles turned white. Without a doubt, he got harder and  tightened his jaw with exasperation when she groped him again.  Well, fuck, she loved it? ———He’d better s t o p.  ❝ Who’d have ‘fuckin guessed. I’m not drunk enough right now to mistake you for a TEN like the other night, Margot. So maybe I won’t fuck you again. Ever. ❞  

❝ …Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because you’ve contracted something? I— How would you know?  You aren’t with me all the time.❞ Riley huffed, thinking about it more before patting the back of his head slightly, as if it would lower the volume in his head.  ❝ No— I don’t want any. ❞ He huffed at his brother laughing at him, then suddenly reached forward, pulling Nixon’s down to match himself in one swift movement.  ❝ ——Mirror man. ❞

❝ I haven’t fucking contracted anything, shut up. Maybe not all  the time, but m o s t of the time. I can’t leave you alone without you fucking something up, whether it be your life or mine.  Or both.  ❞ Nixon shook his head and laughed a little more. It was true -- whenever the other was left alone, he more  often than not got up to no good, thanks to the voices in his head. Telling him to do things that he shouldn’t be doing.  ❝ Are you sure, Riley? It helps with the voices, doesn’t it? Don’t you want them to go away? ❞ He asked wearily, thinking the  answer should be an obvious yes. The voices had always  bothered him, whether he would admit or not. It took him by surprise when his brother pulled his head down, letting out an exasperated sigh when he mistook him for his reflection yet again. He hated it.  ❝ R i l e y. It’s me, it’s your brother. I’m real -- I’m not some figment of your imagination. I’m not your reflection in a mirror, okay? I’m your fucking brother. ❞

❝ —-No. It’s not. Not for me. ❞ Riley didn’t explain, distracted by the color that had flushed over the other’s cheeks. He lo v e d it. Graham. His name was Graham, suddenly he just knew when the kind voice in his ear whispered it to him. Riley thought it was a nice name, better than his. He didn’t notice the discomfort that took Graham over, instead just listening, because the other voice disappeared. Now it was just him, and he had a lot to say. ❝ Why would I mock you? It’s what he said. Your brother. He wants you off this path you’re set on, …Graham.❞

❝ You’re seriously delusional if you honestly think yourself above death. ❞ He shook his head and scoffed. Graham  studied him curiously, taking a hesitant step closer to him. ❝ H-How do you know my name? I never told you... ❞ He  trailed off, trying to think of a logical explanation for any of it. Everything in him told him that he shouldn’t believe the  boy, but nothing else could explain how he knew his name.  ❝ Okay... okay, prove it. If you can tell me who killed him, I might believe you. Then maybe we can talk about this whole  wanting me off the path I’m set on. Whatever that means. ❞

❝ Your brother–?? ❞ Riley’s face fell, replaced with a look of utmost sincerity.  ❝ I never want mine  to die… You’re welcome… pretty boy. My brother says I’m too gullible. ❞ Riley let out a small sigh, the voices growing in his head. One was distinctly female– she  seemed protective but in a relentless way, insisting again that fire should come in contact with his new friend’s face quite adamantly. But there was another one, arguing with her quite loudly and fiercely. ❝ He  doesn’t want you to burn either, ❞ Riley informed.  ❝ Also, he says that…………………… he does not like seeing you like this. ❞

Graham offered a small nod, watching as the boy’s  face fell. ❝ Death is inevitable, Riley. ❞ He mumbled, his cheeks growing hot at the words pretty boy.  His brows furrowed as he spoke again, trying to grasp what he was talking about.  ❝ He? Who--- ❞ His lips  pursed into a hard, thin line. His brother was a very  touchy subject for him, even now. Tightening his jaw, he regained his composure, taking a deep breath  before he spoke again.  ❝ What--? What does that  even mean? Are you--- are you mocking me? ❞

❝ —– ❞

❝ Look, you know why that’s so, Nix. What does that even– What does eve have to do with anything? Nothing else helps. Nothing normal. Maybe the pills, but I ran out. ❞ A lie. At the others second notion he looked down, puzzled, double checking the hem of his jeans, the zipper of which was in fact open.  

❝ Oh…. It is. ❞