Interlude in the Lower City (Pt. 2)
Previous Chapter: Interlude in the Lower City Pt. 1
This didn’t go quite as I expected, but I think it ended up better for it. Look, I’m an awkward person and I would 100% miss those social queues. I’m just uhm. You know. Glad things ended up working out for the best. Now, where is that salve…
Content Warning: Contains sex, consensual tief on tief violence, potentially traumatized bakers, and broken dishes.
“Hells!” Runar exclaims, jerking his hand away from the angry young woman. “I was trying to help you!” The shadow of annoyance and pain flits across his face; he can feel the indentations where her teeth have dug into his flesh.
“Yeah, and I fucking bit you.” She says, glaring. “You smacked the shit out of me, asshole!” Her small smirk, daring him to continue… egging him on.
Runar replies, guilt evident in every word. “Yes, I got carried away. That has never happened before.” A quick glance at her cheek tells him that she’ll bruise; her lip, where he struck her, is already swollen. “I’m not…” He sighs. “I’ll untie you.”
“...what? No!” Diotima says, dropping the ‘angry agitator’ act. “Wait, dude, like… come on. It’s fine, I didn’t...” Twisting to try to catch his eye as he loosens her bonds, protesting “...I was just trying to…” And as her hands comes free, sighing, she finishes. “I was trying to show you it was fine.” Rubbing her wrists, she adds. “I’m sorry I bit you. I’m stupid sometimes.”
“You bit me and called me an asshole to tell me it was fine?” Runar raises an eyebrow, muted amusement on his face.
Dio, flushing, laughs a little “Oh, shut up. It seemed like a good idea in my head, okay? I thought you’d get it, but you were…” She waves her hands, searching for the words.
“Feeling terrible that I got carried away?” Runar offers.
“I mean, I was going to say ‘being a little bitch’ but I guess that works too?” Dio says, sticking out her tongue.
Runar, caught off-guard, laughs despite himself. “And you are an insufferable little brat sometimes.”
“So what, are you going to teach me a lesson then?” She teases. “You think you’re scary but you’re not.” Trying to shake him out of the guilt he’s feeling, trying to show him that she’s fine, that this is fine. But seeing the look of guilt he still wears, she stops. “Look, if you don’t want to… do this, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pushing you, I’m just… I don’t know. Whatever.”
“No, you’re fine, I’m not… I’m just worried that I’m going to hurt you.” Runar says, adding after a moment: “I was enjoying that, perhaps more than I’d like to admit.”
“Hn.” She says, tilting her head a little. “Slapping me, you mean?”
“Yes.” Runar replies, not quite meeting her eyes. “Though I’d say ‘hurting you’ if I were to be honest.”
“Oh.” Diotima replies. And, after a long moment, she adds, quietly: “I think I wanted you to. Not just slapping, you know, but… I don’t know. More.”
Runar, looking at her intently, a mix of concern and… something else on his face, asks “Why would you want that, Diotima? Did you like it when I…?”
“Yeah.” She says, flushing. “Look, okay, I know. It’s more than a little fucked up. But I did. Even the…” She touches her lip where he split it. “This.”
“Again… why?” Runar repeats.
Diotima exhales, leaning back a little. “I don’t know, it’s just… ugh, I’m going to sound like some sort of I dunno, Loviatar worshiper and I’m not at all but…” She closes her eyes… it helps her focus her thoughts when she’s emotional. “...I don’t know. Everything is shit, okay? This fucking storm is shit, school is shit, being away from everyone I care about because I wanted… whatever... is shit. I’m just… I don’t know, I’m not making any sense. Never mind.”
“You’re making sense, Diotima. You’re escaping into the moment.” Runar says.
Dio considers this. “Yes. And you losing control a little, I mean… ugh okay don’t judge me but I sort of… want you to? I don’t want you to like, hurt me hurt me, but….” A shrug. “...a few bruises, a little blood, I mean. Okay?” Opening one eye to gauge his reaction, she waits. She’s, perhaps, had vague thoughts of these ideas before but she’s never considered exploring them.
“And if I hurt you more than that?” Runar asks, offering her a hand. “If I lose control more than a little?”
Dio shrugs, the ghost of a smile. “As if you could.” Taking his hand, she stands. “Like I said, dude, you’re a little bitch.” A small shove, a smirk.
“And as I said, you-” He says, catching her wrist, almost growling. “-are an insufferable brat sometimes.” His assent to her proposal is implicit in his actions.
“Do something about it then.” Dio says, trying unsuccessfully to break free of his grasp. “Coward.”
Runar grabs her under the chin with his other hand, walking forward, requiring her to backpedal, “Do something about it?” Forcing her chin up, tilting her head so he can look her in the eyes, he adds “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Oh fuck off!” She laughs, breathlessly. “You just want me to say it… you know I hate that…” Her breathing is heavy, cheeks flushed, eyes intent… daring him to make her, perhaps.
“If you want it, you’ll say it.” He replies, teasing, enjoying the little exhale of breath as she runs out of space, impacting the wall. “And that-” He says, leaning forward until their foreheads are almost touching “-is only the beginning of what I’m going to make you do.”
“..haaah” Dio gasps, attempting to lean forward to kiss him, hungry. “Just...”
“No.” Runar replies, forcing her back into the wall, denying her. “Do as you’re told.”
“Fuck! Fuck…” Dio gasps. “Fine… I…” She closes her eyes. “I want you to-”
“Eyes open.” Runar demands.
“Oh come ON.” Dio complains, but she assents nonetheless, almost whining “I… just… please. Whatever, just… inside. PLEASE.”
Runar chuckles. “And there she is. The good girl under the tough exterior.” Stroking her cheek with a finger, tilting her chin up to kiss her, noting, in passing, the coppery taste of her blood.
“Don’t call me that…” She murmurs, responding to his touch, eyes closing. “I’m not… that…”
“You are.” He asserts, kissing her again. “Deny it if you like, but we both know it’s true, don’t we Diotima?”
“No…” She whispers. “Fuck… aaah…. Fuck you.” A pause, something inaudible said.
Runar, leaning closer. “What was that?”
“If I… I’ll say it if you’ll…” A few rapid breaths. “...please?”
“If you admit it.”
“I… fine. I’m… that.”
“A good girl?”
“Fuck… you. Yes. Fine. Yes…”
-—
Diotima, pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around Runar, small yelps from her lips as he has her... one hand on the wall to brace, the other holding her in place. His enthusiasm, painful, though she’s not protested… she wanted this, wanted to hurt. As he fills her, her nails… sharp, claw-like… draw bloody lines across his shoulder blades.
“Fuck!” He exclaims, a rare epithet from his lips as her nails dig into his flesh, his reaction slamming her into the wall hard enough to rattle the windowpanes. A slap, stinging, across her uninjured cheek, a forceful kiss...
Breaking away from the kiss, her mouth finding his shoulder, biting… first, gently, then, as a wave of dizzied pleasure hits her, harder, the faint taste of blood as her teeth pierce his shoulder...
His curse, a thrust to make her release him, screaming in pleasured pain, tearing her away by her horns, another slap before his hand finds her throat, gripping it as he continues to have her…
Gasping, her hand around his, moving his hand to better suit, showing him how, as Vul once showed her… understanding, finally, what she’d meant, why Vul had always wanted this… the pressure, the feeling of being controlled… yes….
Lifting the girl… woman… carrying her away... a free hand clearing the glasses, the dishes from his table, shattering them without concern. Her cries as his ministrations continue unabated, remembering, vaguely, that he’d worried about control… his hand around her throat as it has been around her wife’s on their last visit… these two strange outlanders…
Her legs, crossing, wrapping themselves around his waist, pulling him in, hands on his chest, nails biting, using what little self control she has left to keep from scoring him here too… “Nn… fuck! Oh… oh gods, please…. Haaah…” She exclaims…
Turning her over, pinning her… her wrists held behind her back, hand in her hair, head pulled back, her legs trembling, her cries soft, shaky… his own climax hitting him without warning, driven on by need and something darker, perhaps…
A fleeting thought of safety… discarded as he finishes, her wrists released… her hands on her own body, exploring… bringing her to her own conclusion… a shuddering, screaming affair that leaves her bruised, bloodied body useless for quite some time.
-—
(Sometime the next morning)
“Oh… oh shit, your shoulder…” Diotima says, the injury she inflicted catching her eye, draped lazily as she is across her sometime lover’s chest as the sun peeks over the horizon, the skies clear for the first time in weeks. She runs a gentle finger around the edges of the blood encrusted circle, wincing as she assesses the damage. “Fuck, I didn’t… I thought that was my blood. Sorry, I didn’t meant to bite you that hard.”
Runar chuckles, gently running a finger along one of the soft ridges along her spine. “It will heal, and I cannot say that I didn’t enjoy it in the moment.” Tilting his head, frowning, he asks “Is your neck… bruising?”
Dio half smiles, toying with the injury. “Yep. And my cheek looks pretty bad too. How is your back?” She adds, tilting her head to catch his eye. She remembers, vaguely, raking him repeatedly with her nails.
“Truth be told? I think I’m stuck to the sheet.” He laughs. “You were rather enthusiastic about that.”
Dio hides her face for a moment, embarrassed. “Fuck, sorry!” She says, muffled by his chest.
“Again, I’ll heal and it was… an interesting experience, to say the least.” A long pause, and then, almost awkwardly, he asks “And… were you hurt anywhere else? I was not particularly gentle.”
“Hm?” It takes her a moment, but Dio gets there. “Oh! I mean… I ache, I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach all night, but I’ll live.” She says, giving him a quick eye-roll and half smile. “Worth it though.” Perhaps she fails to mention the bit of spotting, but… it is nothing, really, and will only worry him.
“Well. I do have some salve and a healing potions. I’ll be fine but you’ll be journeying soon, if this weather holds.” He replies, not quite believing her but not wanting to call her on it.
“Okay first of all, we both know you’re terrified that Vul will see these-” She motions to the bruises on her face, neck, and wrists “-and travel all the way up here to end you, and second… either we both take them or neither of us do.”
Runar laughs. “I do not deny that. Shall we quaff a potion each, apply some salve, and see what the bakery has on offer?”
Diotima nods, rolling off of him to find her discarded clothing. “Yes, let’s just hope they weren’t in late to make the food!”
“Oh. Shit.”