#drabbles basically

“What’s a pretty one like you doing out here at such a late hour?”

Jane presses you up against the wall with a playful smirk and effortlessly corners you to the dark, cramped space of the narrow alley near Random Play, the video store where you usually can be seen wandering around after sunset. She takes up all the room in your personal bubble with her chest flushed to yours and her nimble fingers firmly gripping your wrist, pinned to the rough brick wall like the rest of you. Her tail teasingly slithers up your torso, brushes over your collarbones then wraps around your other wrist to completely incapacitate you. You’re at her mercy, a prey caught in the palms of deft hands, and she is everywhere; caging you in, her presence is anything but as oppressive as it should be because those clear blue eyes are taking you in with obvious delight, quickly flitting over your facial features before settling on your parted lips, the remnants of your surprise.

It’s just a little over midnight, the streetlights don’t fully reach the place you both find yourselves in and so you can only see some parts of Jane’s body pressed close to you. The darkness does nothing to dim the life in her eyes, however. They glimmer with satisfaction at the compromising position you both find yourselves in and your total lack of struggle against your restraints.

“Clearing my mind with a walk,” you easily answer her previous question with a half-truth that she catches on immediately, if her widening smirk is anything to go by.

Two manicured fingers tilt your chin upward to meet her gaze. With her platform boots on, she towers slightly over you and doesn’t shy away from using her height as a weapon to corner you into submission. Jane doesn’t do things directly, never really tells you what to do, she simply takes away all of your options until the only one left is what benefits her most.

“Oh, really?” She plays along with your white lie and lightly drags a sharp nail across the underside of your chin. “There must be quite a lot in that cute head of yours to wander the streets at midnight.”

You smile. “Just you.”

The corners of Jane’s eyes crinkle with pleasure at your blatant flirting.

“Besides,” you continue, “this neighborhood’s pretty safe.”

“You sure?” Jane moves even closer to you, her warm breath just barely grazing the skin of your cheek. Some strands of dark hair caress your face as she leans in until her painted lips brush your earlobe with every spoken syllable, and her voice lowers to a sultry, confident purr. “After all… I’m right here. And I happen to have caught a helpless little bird.”

Her tail suddenly tightens around your wrist while the tip leisurely traces the life line of your palm. An air of cold danger laces her otherwise vague words, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise in response. Her tongue swiftly wets her upper lip. You’re brusquely reminded of all that you don’t know about her, the missing puzzle pieces that could complete your portrait of Jane Doe— this enticing mirage who disperses into the wind when approached too closely. But for all her mysteries, the woman before you is made up of little quirks and preferences unique only to her, and those are enough for your desire to know more to simmer hotly in the pits of your belly.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Jane?”

You both know that’s a question you can answer yourself. Jane’s airy laughter tickles your ear. She leans back to look at you, purposely grazing your cheek in a feather-light kiss as she does.

“And risk ruining this pretty face? C’mon, I would never.” Her forefinger runs down the column of your neck, its nail against your throat, and it stops above your hammering pulse. “Don’t believe me? Your heart’s racing… I can smell it on you, you know.”

As if to illustrate her point, her head dips to the crook of your neck and her nose presses close to your skin. Your breath hitches, your head tilting to the side almost unconsciously to give her better access to your body. Jane makes a show of inhaling long and slow, filling her lungs with the scent of you, then she releases it all in a warm exhalation over your pulse point. Your stomach clenches pleasantly at the sensation.

“Oh, maybe I’m mistaken,” the tip of her nose slowly travels to the junction between your shoulder and neck, each word spoken directly into your skin, “it’s not fear, but something much more intoxicating…”

She inhales a second time, quieter, and breathes out in a manner she means composed but that is underlined with the one trait she refuses to show you.

“And what’s that?”

In an instant too quick to compute, Jane’s lips are brushing yours with her next reply and the blazing heat of her stare fans the desire within your veins. “Something you probably shouldn’t feel for someone like me.”

“Why not?”

You think there’s a hint of something wry and cloudy in the sky of her eyes, past the playfulness and self-assurance. “Might not end well for you.”

“Already thinking about the end? I thought we were having fun.”

“Everything’s fun until you get cut.”

A warning that you readily ignore. You lean impossibly closer, sharing her breath for a suspended moment, and capture her parted lips in a gentle kiss. It’s soft and chaste, lasts only a second, and you’re pulling away before she can reciprocate.

“I don’t mind playing with knives,” you murmur into her mouth.

“…Foolish,” Jane smiles. Her tongue darts out to swipe over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth, putting a name to the sweetness she briefly caught a taste of in your kiss. “You shouldn’t eat chocolate so late at night. It’s bad for your teeth.”

You let her change the subject, pretending to buy her deflection. “Says the one whose entire diet consists of instant noodles and energy bars.”

“Heh, touché. I never claimed to be an example to follow.”

“I’ll follow you anyway.”

The charged words leave you automatically but you stand your ground, unblinking. Jane’s reaction comes a few seconds too late for it to be fully genuine; her pupils constrict in a flash, her smile briefly wavers at the left corner, and her tail grips you tighter for just a second— then her eyelids droop flirtatiously and she’s chuckling in amusement, her free hand cupping your cheek. She strokes it using her thumb, right over the dark eye bags etched on your skin.

“Are you trying to get into my pants? Right here in this dark, cramped alleyway? How naughty~”

If she notices your dampening enthusiasm, she says nothing. It’s hidden behind your irises, a light flickering shut like something she can’t take back, and she feels some genuine part of you slipping through her fingers. It’s too bad, it’s what she likes most about you. And if that does anything to her, she doesn’t show it. Jane clings onto what is left, this game of knowing cat and willing mouse you’ve been playing for months now, and does what she’s good at: meaningless seduction.

“Careful what you wish for, pretty bird…” she mutters, “I just might give you what you want.”

She steals your next reply with a firm, insistent kiss. Her lips meld with yours and she swallows the muffled sound of surprise that escapes you, her body now completely flush to yours. You’re trapped between her soft form and rough brick, her callused fingers over your pulse, her tail absentmindedly caressing the skin of your wrist and the lines of your palm. The tip traces the short bones of your fingers, one by one, while Jane kisses your lips as if they hold answers she’s afraid to hear but long to anyway. Her fingertips tentatively slide upward, over your palm and between your own until your fingers are laced together against the wall. She exhales into your mouth and her breath is yours, it sits on your lungs like something precious before you give it back to her just as readily. Her tongue runs across the seam of your lips then eagerly pushes past them to swirl around yours. You chase the invading muscle for some time, neither of you caring for the telltale sounds of locked lips the breeze carries into the deserted alley. Heat rushes to your chest and spreads to your guts in such a pleasant, familiar way you can’t help the faint moan that tumbles from your mouth directly into hers.

“Already… mmh… making those cute sounds for me?”

Jane means to tease but can barely pull away from you long enough to utter this sentence. You can’t respond even if you wanted to, she’s unrelenting in her assault and fills each of your senses with her presence. She’s impossible to ignore and would be even more difficult to escape were you not exactly where you want to be.

“Mnh, ah,” you pant hotly between kisses, “relax… m’not going anywhere…”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.”

You barely contain a squeak when her strong hands lift you up by the thighs and hold you pinned to the wall, her grip tight. Your legs close around her waist and you’re finally free to link your arms around her neck to bring her infinitely closer. Jane tilts her chin and parts her lips wider, capturing your lips once more. Her kisses are deep and urgent like she’s running out of time or indulging in a treat she rarely gets to taste. Her tail brushes your shoulder, your cheek, your nape; it never strays far from you. You roll your hips, seeking relief from the growing throb between your thighs, and Jane smirks against your mouth.

“Need something?” Her kisses move to your jaw and down to the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin with sharp teeth and leaving her mark near your racing pulse.

“Yes,” you reply breathily and cup both of her cheeks to pull her in another kiss. “Need you.”

“Ooh… say that again.”

Lust clouds your minds and you both forget yourselves for a moment that seems to stretch on for an hour, in a back alley of a narrow street darkened by the midnight hour. Jane kisses you and you return each one with simmering passion you’re unable to express with words in fear she scurries away somewhere you can’t follow. Your body is warm despite the cool air and greedily seeks more of her firm touch, your hips grinding into her for the sweet friction it provides. Jane squeezes the back of your thighs and lets out a low moan against you.

“Hah… Jane…”

Just like that, her name on your tongue— so tender and needy— is a harsh return to reality. Jane withdraws from your lips, mouth wet and open, chest heaving, and you’re too slow to see the flash of panic in her hazy gaze as she lets go of your thighs and forces you to stand once more. Her eyes flit to the side and back to you like a cornered animal desperate for an exit, and she takes a step back while clearing her throat. The sudden loss of contact makes you blink rapidly. You lick the corner of your mouth where some of her saliva has gathered, your mind lost in a fog of confusion and desire.

“Um, are you okay?” You ask uncertainly, not knowing what to do with your hands now that she’s rejected you so brusquely. You wipe your palms on your thighs.

Jane adjusts her jacket and runs her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, of course.”

She seems to regain her composure quicker than you, a smug smile gracing her lips as she meets your gaze. Her skin is hot, her cheeks flushed, but she stands straight and confident while you’re still blinking the confusion out of your eyes. The air between you is made awkward in record time with your silence and her refusal to explain herself truthfully. She walks towards you and casually brushes some hair out of your face, her familiar flirtatious tone back in her voice.

“You’re a mess,” she smirks, fingers trailing down the side of your face to lift your chin up, “and just after a few kisses too. I wonder how you’d look if I touched you properly…”

You’re getting whiplash from her hot-and-cold behavior, but you manage a reply, “Come over and find out.”

Jane clicks her tongue. “Sorry, I still have some stuff to take care of. But I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least walk you home, it’s pretty late. Don’t want you roaming outside on your own.”

“Oh.” You slowly push her hand away and she lets it fall to her side then stuffs them both in her front pockets. “That’s not necessary. I don’t live far from here.”

She simply regards you for a moment, and you can just glimpse the reflective sheen of the walls she puts up around herself before she shrugs lightly and it disappears into the wind.

“If you say so.”

She usually insists until you cave in and quietly walk side by side down Sixth Street, the breeze in her hair and your eyes to the distant sky. This time though, she lets you off the hook without a fuss. Your chest feels heavy and you don’t dare to look at her, focusing on a discarded candy bar wrapper lying on the ground. Jane doesn’t let the tension reach a boiling point, she sighs contentedly and turns her back on you.

“I’ll see you around, then, pretty bird.”

She makes a farewell gesture with her index and middle finger and walks in the opposite direction of where you’re heading. Your hand curls into a fist. The rejection hurts even after you’ve told yourself this is simply how Jane is, the fondness that belies her teasing words doesn’t mean a thing, and neither does the vague sense of longing you sometimes can feel in her kisses. She’s Jane Doe, the closer you get, the less she gives. Clinging onto the person you catch fleeting glimpses of behind her carefully crafted mask is both pointless and ridiculous, you know that. And yet…