"Soooo…" Starts Adam looking at Emerald. "Do you want to be friends?"
"Talk to me again and I'll cut you." Snaps Emerald.
"Sorry." Says Adam looking down.
***
[Inside Ash's room]
I get up, picking up Bleiss just to throw her on the bed.
Bleiss's laughter rings out, wild, unhinged, hungry, as she bounces on my bed, black boots
kicking up the sheets.
"Fucking finally," she purrs, sprawling out like a cat in the sun, arching her back to reveal a
flat stomach adorned with a belly button piercing.
"You have a piercing?" I ask, surprised.
"Keep looking," she purrs, a wicked grin curling her lips, "and maybe you'll find another little
fucker."
I yank my shirt over my head, next my fingers pausing at the waistband of my black jeans,
halted by the dangerously captivating sight waiting on my bed.
Bleiss is undeniably beautiful. Her porcelain skin is so pale it's nearly translucent, thrown into
sharp relief by the black choker at her throat. Her hair is darker than the void between stars,
it spills out like ink, framing a face that looks stolen from a painter's fever dream. High
cheekbones, a jawline sharp as a blade, and lips painted the deepest, most dangerous
black.
Her leather corset hugs her like a second skin, black straps biting into every curve. Even
with Bleiss's petite Schnee frame, those curves make a man's blood pound and his cock
throb with need.
And those eyes, dear God, those fucking eyes. Not some weak rust-crimson or the cheap
pink of swill, but the raw, slick of a fresh, bleeding wound. They bore into me, and I can feel
my blood pounding, my body aching in ways I shouldn't admit.
She catches me staring. A slow, knowing smirk curls her lips.
"See something you like, my fierce stallion?"
My throat's dry. I swallow, but it's like trying to drink sand.
"Stallion?" I repeat confused
"Mmm." She props herself up on her elbows, lifting her torso, black strands falling across her
face. Her bright red eyes never leave me. "You're Vale's Dark Horse, aren't you?"
I scoff, waving dismissively.
"Fame's got its perks, sure. But right now…" My voice drops, rough and raw. "You're the only
thing in this damn world worth even a second glance."
Bleiss moans in delight as her fingers hover over her belt buckle, nails black as sin, sharp as
blades.
SNAP!
The belt twitches, not like fabric or leather, but like something alive.
My breath catches as the damn thing expands, coiling outward, thickening into something
sleek and deadly. The black metal gleams under the dorm lights, reflecting Bleiss's mad grin
as she peels it free from her waist.
That thing it's not a belt anymore, its that fucking whip she used on me.
On Bleiss hands the whip hisses as its arches.
I don't even flinch. Not because I'm brave, but because my brain's still stuck on the way her
fingers caressed that fucking thing like it was a lover's skin.
CRACK!
The metal coils lash out, not to cut, not to sting, but to wrap, tight around my throat. My pulse
kicks against it, heat flaring where the cold black metal touches my skin.
With a victory smile, Bleiss yanks it.
The world tilts. My back hits the mattress with a grunt, the impact knocking the air from my
lungs. The whip's still around my neck.
The crazy goth doesn't let go.
Instead, she straddles me, knees digging into the bed on either side of my hips, her corset
creaking with the shift. Her thighs clamp around mine, heat bleeding through the fabric of my
jeans, and I can feel her body, soft where it counts, sharp where it hurts.
She grins in delight.
"Mmm, now, my stallion," she purrs, fingers crawling along the whip as it winds around my
throat. "It's time to break you in… and I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of it."
My fingers scramble at the whip coiled around my throat, nails digging into the cold,
unyielding metal. But the thing doesn't budge, just tightens a fraction, like it's alive and
enjoying this.
"Hell… no…" I grind out, voice raw.
"Oh, yes…" Bleiss tilts her head, that mad grin stretching wider, eyes glittering with
something insane. "My pretty little beast… you're mine now."
"Hey," I grunt, voice strained. "Is this thing… expensive?"
She stares at me like I've grown a second head. Then that wild laugh bubbles up again, rich
and dark as black coffee.
"Eisendorn?" She strokes the whip's length, almost tender. "It's priceless. He is a mesh of
strands of Dust conduit metal, forged in the deepest mines of Atlas. But my asshole of a
family can afford it."
I grin. Blood's pounding, but I don't stop pulling.
"Good," I wheeze. " I won't feel bad if I break it."
The metal starts to loosen as it groans under my fingers.
Bleiss's smirk falters.
"It's not possible!" she snaps. "You can't possibly-."
The whip creaks, and I feel give way. Just a fraction. Just enough for me to wedge my
fingers underneath to pry the damn thing loose enough to pass through my head.
"RAAAAGH!" I roar, tearing the coil apart like I'm ripping a beast's jaws off my neck.
The whip snaps free.
I gasp, lungs burning, and I laugh triumphantly. Bleiss's eyes are wide, her lips parted, like
she's seeing a ghost.
"Told you," I pant, dangling the severed length of Eisendorn between us.
Her shock lasts half a second. Then that grin returns, sharper than before.
"Oh, you adorable thing," she purrs, fingers tightening around the whip's handle, her grin
sharp and hungry.
I don't have time to ask what the hell she means.
Her thumb presses a button on the whip handle.
A crackle fills the air, like lightning trapped in metal. My skin prickles, hairs standing on end,
and then-.
ZAP!
The world explodes in white-hot pain.
Every muscle in my body locks. My back arches off the bed, teeth clenched so hard I taste
blood. The whip's still in my grip like it's a live wire, a fucking storm coursing through my
veins. My vision swims, edges bleeding black, and all I can hear is Bleiss's laughter, sweet
and poisonous, ringing in my ears.
"Surprise, babe," she croons, leaning in so close I can feel her heat, her breath scorching my
cheek. "Eisendorn doesn't just bind… he bites."
The current frying my nerves feels like someone's flaying me alive with a cheese grater. My
teeth are clenched so tight my jaw could snap. Sweat's pouring down my face, stinging my
eyes, but I don't blink. Don't dare.
Because of pain? No… pain's just an old acquaintance.
I've been beaten, broken, burned. I've had bones snap and organs split and still crawled
back up. I've stared down death so many times it's started waving the bitch back.
So this? This electric hell? It's nothing. Hell, it's neither the first nor the worst electrocution
I've felt in the last year.
Bleiss's eyes go wide as I lift my hand, reaching out to wrap it around her throat.
She cut the power before I touch her, just as I felt her pulse jumps under my palm, fast and
frantic. I can feel her swallow.
"W-what the-?" she chokes out, but I cut her off.
"Pain," I grind out, voice raw, grin stretching wider than it should. "Hate the fucking thing. But
it doesn't scare me."
Her breath hitches. I squeeze, just enough to make her gasp, just enough to remind her
who's in charge now.
Then I yank it.
The whip screeches in protest, like a living thing being torn from its master. Bleiss's fingers
scrabble at my wrist, nails digging in, but I don't let go. I rip Eisendorn from her grip and hurl
it across the room.
It clatters against the far wall, coils twitching like a dying snake as the room falls into tense
silence.
I stare at the mad yandere but to my surprise Bleiss laughs, shattering the silence like glass.
It's not the wild, mocking cackle from before. Her shoulders shake, her whole body trembling
like she's fighting something. I just stare, waiting for the punchline, the next move, the next
fucking crazy game of hers.
But then… a hitch in her breath.
Her laughter cracks, and then she starts to cry.
Not the pretty, dramatic kind. Not the kind you see in movies where the girl's mascara runs in
perfect little streaks. This is ugly, face twisting cry. Her breath coming in ragged gasps, her
fingers clawing at her own thighs like she's trying to dig herself out of her skin.
"S-sorry," she chokes out, voice wrecked. "S-sorry, sorry, fuck, I don't-."
I blink confused then I exhale through my nose, slowly.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" My voice comes out colder than I mean it to. Not angry,
just tired.
She flinches like I slapped her.
"I-I don't know, okay?!" Her voice spikes, then shatters, cracking under its own weight. "I
just-. You make me fell so intense, and you-. I thought-." She swallows, hard. "Fuck. I
thought if I could j-just make you mine-."
"Make me yours?" I cut in, but she just shakes her head, black hair whipping.
"I don't know!" she snaps, tears carving tracks down her cheeks. "Break you… own you…
something, anything! I just…" Her chest heaves, each ragged breath tearing at her. "Gods,
what's wrong with me? Why can't I-" Her voice crumbles into a choked, broken sob.
She cuts off, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes like she can scrub the tears away.
I stare at her. Really look at her.
Not the leather, not the black lipstick, not the sneer she wears like armor. But the way her
shoulders are hunched, the way her fingers are shaking, the way she's trying to hide it and
failing.
Something in my chest twists. I exhale, rough, and reach out.
I reach to her, she flinches when my hand lands on her shoulder.
I ignore her resistance and give a sharp tug, pulling her against me, her face buries in my
chest. Her body stays tense, braced as if she might still fight, but I just wrap my arms around
her and hold on.
The mattress groans under our weight as I fall back, Bleiss crashing against my chest. She's
stiff as a board, every muscle locked like she's waiting for a trap to snap shut. But I don't let
go.
I just exhale, slow, and start running my fingers through her hair.
It's softer than it looks. Black as oil, but silky under my calloused palms. I trace my fingers
through the strands, untangling the knots with care.
At first she doesn't move, doesn't even breathe, just waits.
Then, suddenly, a shudder runs through her. Her shoulders hunch, and for a heartbeat I
think she's about to bolt. But instead, she melts on me.
Not all at once, but bit by bit, like ice cream giving way to heat. Her forehead stays pressed
to my chest, but the death grip on my sides eases. Her breath stutters, then steadies, warm
against my skin.
I keep stroking. Not talking, not pushing. Just being here for her.
Minutes tick by. The dorm's quiet except for the distant hum of the campus outside. Bleiss's
fingers curl into my sides, not clawing anymore, just holding on. Like I'm the only thing
keeping her from floating away.
"You're a mess," I murmur, voice rough.
"Ha!" She snorts, wet and broken, against my chest. "Takes one to know one."
"Fair."
I don't argue. Just keep combing my fingers through her hair, tracing the shell of her ear, the
sharp line of her jaw. She shivers when I brush the pad of my thumb over the tear tracks on
her cheeks, but she doesn't pull away.
"Talk to me," I say.
"About what?" She asks going rigid again.
"Anything. "
"You really wanna hear it?" She question, holding a bitter laugh.
"I really do."
She keeps quiet for a time, so long I think she's not gonna share. But after a few seconds
she slowly rises and starts to talk.
"My family's perfect," she spits, like the words taste like ash. "Weiss is the golden child with
the pristine voice. Winter's the heir, made in the molds of my hag of a mother. Dear Whitley's
is their precious baby boy." Her fingers digs into my sides. "And then there's me…"
I nod, encouraging her to keep talking.
"The spare Schnee, the fuck-up, the black sheep, the one who refuses to play by the rules,
who goes to metal concerts, devours junk food, laughs too loud, and has been used and
taken advantage of countless times just to get to my mother or sisters…"
Bleiss's voice cracks like thin ice underfoot. My fingers keep combing, still in her hair.
I tilt her chin up, forcing those blood-red eyes to meet mine. No smirk, no game. Just the
raw, ugly truth hanging between us like a blade.
"I get it," I say, low, teeth grinding. "You're used to being the screw-up, the one everyone
pretends doesn't exist. But that sure as hell doesn't explain why you just tried to choke me
and fry my brain like a goddamn chicken wings."
Her breath hitches. For a second, her gaze darts away, but I don't let her look off. I squeeze
her chin, just enough to keep her locked on me.
"I-I wasn't trying to hurt you," she stammers, fingers twisting in the fabric of my shirt. "I just-.I
saw how you fought. How you moved. Like you were born wild, untamed. And I thought if I
could j-just make you submit, even for a second, then you'd stay with me."
My grip tightens. Not in anger, just realization.
"Submit?" I repeat, flat.
She swallows, throat bobbing under my thumb.
"Y-yeah." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Like h-how I saw my mother do to my father, on a
few occasions."
The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the sternum. My jaw drops.
"What did your mother do to your father?" I ask, eyes wide.
"I didn't have candles on me, so… that's why I electrocuted you when you misbehaved."
I can't believe it… Willow Schnee. The woman I remember from the original show, a
hollow-eyed alcoholic, the ghost haunting the Schnee manor, is dominatrix?
Bleiss's lips twist, bitter.
"Surprised?" she spits, but there's no heat in it. Just exhaustion. "Yeah, me too. The first time
I walked in on them, I was twelve…" She says dryly remembering some buried memories.
"Turns out that Jacques Schnee likes it when his wife ties him up, burns him with candle wax
and shoves a big black dildo-."
"Enough!" I shout as my stomach lurches.
Bleiss winces and looks down.
"Sorry." She whimpers, avoiding my gaze.
"Shh," I murmur as I press a finger on her black lips, silencing the storm before it starts.
I lean in, close enough that my breath touches over her cheek.
"Listen to me," I say, low and rough. "I like you, Bleiss. The real you. Not the act, not the
whip, not the crazy girl who tries to electrocute people into submission." My thumb brushes
her bottom lip, just once. "The one who's terrified no one's ever gonna stick around."
Her breath catches. Those red eyes flicker, like embers in the dark.
"So here's the deal," I continue, voice steady. "We can do this. Dating, or whatever the hell
you wanna call it. But you gotta stop trying to break me in, okay? I'm not your simp, like your
dad with your mom. I'm not your fucking punching bag. And I sure as hell ain't gonna let you
treat me like one."
Bleiss stills, but she relents and nods.
I keep my finger pressed to her lips, feeling the ghost of a smile against my skin.
"I'm going to sleep now," I say, voice rough but firm. "You can sleep with me and we can
cuddle. Nothing else."
Her cheeks puff out, eyes narrowing into slits. A muffled mouth vibrates against my fingertip,
but I don't budge.
"Don't like it?" I raise an eyebrow. "Fine, you can sleep in your own bed with Adam and
Emerald."
Bleiss's entire body locks up. Her face twists like she just bit into something rotten.
"Ew," she chokes out, shuddering so hard.
"Then behave." I smirk.
She glares, but after a second, she nods, sharp and reluctant. Her breath huffs against my
finger, warm and annoyed, but she doesn't fight it.
"Good." I exhale, tired.
So tired I don't notice Bleiss's face light up with an idea, a sly smirk spreading as she
hatches something.
My finger jerks against her lips as Bleiss's tongue flicks out, hot and wet, tracing the pad of
my fingertip.
I freeze.
One second, I'm lecturing her, laying down the law, and the next… her mouth is there, lips
parting, breath warm as she swallows my finger past her teeth.
My cock twitches angrily in my jeans. It's like it knows I'm blocking him because of common
sense.
Bleiss's eyes gleam, red and wicked, locked onto mine as her tongue curls around my finger,
slow and deliberate. She doesn't just suck, she works it, lips sealing tight, cheeks hollowing
as she pulls back just enough to let her teeth graze the sensitive skin.
A shudder runs down my spine.
I should stop her. I should. But my body's got other ideas, heat pooling low in my gut, my
pulse hammering in my ears.
"Hmmmm," Bleiss moans, the sound vibrating around my finger, and her free hand slides up
my chest, nails scraping through the hair there before her palm flattens over my pec. She
squeezes, just shy of painful, like she's testing how much I'll take.
I grit my teeth.
"Bleiss," I growl, but it comes out rough, more warning than protest.
She smirks around my finger, lashes fluttering as she pulls back just enough to let the tip pop
free from her lips with a wet sound.
"Mmm?" she purrs, voice thick.
"Fuck it!" I mutter frustrade. "I'm gonna take a cold shower."
"Noooooooooo…"