Re: Lake: going for a dip-warning sex and violence
Some liked to think she was nothing more than the stupid school slut, a touch of cherry flavored lipgloss and a spread of thighs. But Ivy wasn't Little Red wondering at the Big Bad's teeth before she got swallowed whole, no, and her smile was knowing as he slid beneath the surface and she took a deep breath in.
Held it.
Almost sighed it out at warmth between her thighs, at the an-tic-i-pa-tion of a tongue that never came. What came was a shock of cold, but she didn't scream when his arms that she'd enjoyed being in became tentacles twining down her legs. She didn't struggle either - underwater, air was the most prized thing, and to struggle would have wasted it. That didn't stop her from pulling, from testing the strength of his grip on her legs.
A b-rate scream queen would have been thrashing. Making good use of her name. Pleading, maybe, instead of using her damn wits. (Was he hoping for one of those? Oops. Bubblegum pop.)
Ivy, being made of something different, was meant to break all the rules. Her hands, not yet turned cold by the water were almost gentle when they came to frame the sides of his face. Phalanges and metacarpals, petioles and stems angling along strong, almost human features made completely invisible by the water. Her chest began to burn and she exhaled slowly, hair a wild plume around her head as bubbles, kissed by the surface and running opposite to the ones she birthed, began to float down and flood her nostrils with fresh air.
All the letters of her name rearranged did not spell sacrificial lamb. All that mattered now was kindness or pain, and which would get her out of this.