Parallel's Playground

Fic Title: Parallel's Playground

Chapter Title: Breaking Point (1/?)

Fic Rating:NC17

Chapter Rating: R

Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura

Pairing: Sakura Kinomoto X Fujitaka Kinomoto (Sakura Avalon X Aiden Avalon)

Word Count: 2,930

Notes: We all know I never finish multi-chapter fics so no one get your hopes up... but I do have great plans for this, so hopefully I manage to finish it :3 comments appreciated very much


“Sakura…”

She stirred only slightly, eyes squeezing shut in defense of the dreams he was pulling her from.

“Sakura, you… don’t have to pretend to be asleep…” his voice pulled her by silk ropes from the hazy warmth of sleep. She slowly became aware of the bed under her side, the crinkled blue sheets, the blurry moonlight in the creases. The world around slipped in and out of focus as she blinked, not fully awake, rubbing her fingers to clean the sleep from her eyes. The stars burned dimly in the night sky that lay in a sheet of black across her window, the moon and the streetlights mixing silver and gold shades of light into a dirty tarnish that seeped thickly through her curtains. She squinted and rolled over, a sleepy moan of displeasure in her throat.

“To bright…” came the murmured, slurred words, her face turning to press against the back of her curled hand, blocking out the light.

“Sorry…” the voice, scared and unsure, dark and dusky in confusing ways, made her suddenly realize it was a voice that roused her in the first place.

Pale emerald eyes slipped open, peering through thin threads of shadow cast by the curtain of her bangs. She blinked quizzically, the light from the hall casting a curious glitter in her eyes.

“Nn?” for a moment she saw him standing there, cut out against the light of the hall, a grey and black silhouette with honey-brown eyes. He flicked off the light of the hallway, letting the darkness sweep in; hide his broad yet gentle shape. The faint glow from the window made the sheen on his glasses opaque, hiding his eyes.

Sakura sat up, pushing against the plush mattress with stiff limbs and curled hands, shaking her head at the ticklish sweep of her hair across her cheeks. The sheets creased all around her, the dull sheen of the fabric catching the greasy light in all it’s cracks. Threads of dirty silver tied her up in a tattered web of light as he wiggled and kicked her feet, shedding her cocoon of sheets and blankets.

She noticed him watching, his eyes now barely visible through the bright sheen of his glasses, like fireflies behind fogged glass. There was a shy sort of intensity to his eyes, there was something different about how he watched and breathed and held himself. Something different then she had ever seen before.

He watched her watching, and she looked back, until a sleepy awkward smile curved her little candied lips.

“What is it?” sleep was still in her voice as she reached up and rubbed her knuckles across her eyes, her cheeks humming with a faint roseate blush.

Fujitaka stalled for a moment in the comfortable dimness, looking away, letting his hands fold easily behind his back. Wordlessly he stepped forward and settled next to his daughter on the bed, watching the creases as they crawled through the sheets all around him. The light made his skin pale and off looking, caught the silk of his nightshirt in strange dizzying ways. Abruptly he stood, going to the window and jerking shut the curtains. The sudden metal scrape lingered in his ears.

Did the curtains really need to be shut?

“D-” Sakura began but yawned, her fingers stretching and fanning out over her mouth, the skin around her eyes crinkling as he pressed them shut. “Dad… what is it?” her head tilted in a kitten-like manor, her wide eyes blinking curiously at the blurry shadow of her father.

Fujitaka looked over his shoulder at her, one hand drifting up to his glasses, curling around the bridge over his nose as he elegantly took them off. Folding them delicately he placed them next to Sakura’s alarm, the glass reflecting the minute hand as it ticked its way along the clock’s white face. He settled next to her once more, no longer able to see the sheets wrinkle, no longer able to see much at all other then the faint whisper of light around the curve of Sakura’s bare shoulders, the thread-thin weave of faint streetlight through her hair. Even though the curtains were thick, the dull-dirty streetlight managed to choke through, dimly. His hands shook for a moment in his lap, eager to move, if only to kill the torture of remaining still; the painful anticipation. The guilt.

His head was tilted down for a few long moments, honey-brown eyes focused on his own knees, the way they hugged the edge of the mattress as his bare feet sunk into the plush white carpet. His fingers wove together and unwove. His gaze flicked to Sakura.

“You… don’t have to pretend you were asleep,” he only repeated himself when finally speaking. His heart beat was too steady, too strong against his own ribs as he watched her, lingering on the sheen on her eyes and the soft lushness of her lips. His heartbeat skipped. Sakura looked as if she was going to speak, but didn’t as his hands suddenly slid under her ribs, drawing her small body into his lap.

Sakura settled comfortably after a few confused moments, her hands looping gently about her father’s neck, her head tilted down and tucked snuggly against his chest. She listened to the strong throb of his heart, to the deep and even tide of his breaths. His skin felt warm, almost hot, and she could feel his pulse in his neck against the side of her hand. She yawned once more as she contemplated these strange subtleties, sinking against her father’s chest, letting the warm comfort melt her. She became limp and docile in his arms, only her fingers still locked together, holding her arms loose around his neck.

Fujitaka watched more then felt his hands move, one drifting lightly along the slight curve of Sakura’s spine. A sleepy mew fell past her lips and she curled against him like a kitten, face pressed to his chest in a half-nuzzle. Her breath touched his skin through the spaces between the buttons on his night shirt. His lungs seemed to deflate as he breathed out, his fingers moving in a steady pace up and down her back, from the base of her neck to the very tip of the end of her spine. Sakura sighed in sleepy pleasure, shivering slightly as the sweep of the fingers, the comfort of the touch nudging her gently in the direction of sleep.

The next hand curled hesitantly over her knee, simply sitting there; warm and firm. Sakura curled and uncurled her toes, blinking her heavy eyelids as she struggled to stay awake, and enjoy the rare lavish shows of affection. She felt herself being moved, her only response to rest her head in the crook of her father’s neck, so she wouldn’t have to hold her head up. The hand on her knee turned her gently, laying one leg on either side of his waist. Sakura flexed her toes against the cool sheets, burying her face where she laid, her arms tightening briefly about her father’s neck.

It had been so long, since she had had a chance to cuddle her father. He had been staying late at work, and when home, was often shut up in his office doing research. And in two days time, he was scheduled to leave on a three week expedition, and she would be left alone with her elder brother, who would only touch her to poke her sides or mess her hair. On those few and far between occasions when Fujitaka was at home, Sakura found herself either chasing a stray misbehaving card, fixing a bizarre magical mishap, or so tired from filling the cards with her own power and changing them to her very own Sakura cards, that all she had energy for was getting home and crawling into her warm bed.

His fingers continued to sooth up and down her spine, hovering hesitantly about the small of her back before dipping gently under the loose fold of her sleeveless night shirt. The pads of his fingers dandling along her bare skin, the fabric of her top laying about his wrist in smooth elegant creases, Fujitaka tilted his head down just slightly, brushing his lips over the top of his daughter’s head. Her hair smelled of the most absurd wonderful things, peach and vanilla, and beach sands. Just what had the girl been doing today?

Sakura’s eyes cracked open, dreamy slits of emerald peering up with faint uncertainty at her father. His fingers continued to drift as steadily as the tide along her back, his skin warmer against her then she was used to. She shifted clumsily, a soft breath of a sigh skating past her lips as she stalled a moment more, before letting her eyes sink shut. The only time her father ever touched her in such ways was when she was terribly upset, or when she was ill and in need of some extra comfort. She tangled and untangled her hands in the warm soft fabric of Fujitaka’s night shirt, her thoughts moving like a steady molasses drip though her mind. Slowly she came to realize perhaps her father thought her sick, or at least upset, as he seemed to think she had been awake before he arrived.

“I’m okay,” the words floated out on a shallow sigh. Her fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt and hung there comfortably, her head tipping up so she could see her father’s eyes. He looked so flustered, and yet so calm, she found herself starring trying to decipher just what he was feeling.

Fujitaka’s hand became still, his eyes sinking just before shut, ringed in the shadows laid under his bangs. He watched her closely, and it was then she noticed the slight flush to his cheeks, which implied he might have been crying.

Downy cotton creased around his wrist as his hand drew up Sakura’s back, thicker folds hanging in a bunch before sliding down his arm as easily as warm water. Sakura tilted her head up as his fingers cradled her neck, finding the look in his eyes near hypnotic. She blinked after he did, leaned her head back against his firm but gentle fingers, toying with the sudden urge to chew her bottom lip. Her cheeks felt warm, almost tingling, her hands loosening and sliding the smallest bit down Fujitaka’s chest. Her nightshirt rode up around the bottom of her ribs, barring her slightly rounded pink stomach, the delicate curves of her thighs, the thin coral cotton of her panties.

His second hand slid more firmly down her thigh, fingers brushing briefly against the elastic against the inside of her leg, before gliding smoothly down her skin. Sakura felt her skin heat up, her eyes widening a fraction as vague realization began to creep into her mind. She opened her mouth to speak.

The hand drifted back up from her knee, fingers dipping between her thighs, curling against the skin to allow his knuckles to brush against her.

Sakura gave the softest gasp, her head tipping back against the support of her father’s fingers. Her eyes fell lightly shut, mouth hung open as her breath dashed softly out.

A balmy crackling spark of shock heated her from the core as his lips brushed across hers, hesitant, taking the smallest taste. Her mouth fell open with a gasp, disbelief, panic, and some indecipherable warmth winding tightly together in her stomach. Her hands shook delicately around his neck, her eyes open into mere emerald slits, foggy like frosted glass.

His lips pressed more firmly to her open mouth, hesitation still clear but fizzling out, as his tongue dipped between her plush lips. Sakura’s eyes shot open, panic lighting bright green sparks in her eyes, as a warm pulse settled softly below her stomach. The cry melted to a dove-like little coo as she squirmed on Fujitaka’s lap, her knees hugging gently at his hips, her hands clipping onto his shoulders.

His hands gently tipped back her head, opening her mouth further. She starred into the blur of his eyes, watching him watch her, as his tongue slid again from his mouth, tracing almost shyly at her lips. His eyes closed briefly, a soft purr in his throat.

“Nn…”

Sakura felt the slight pulse below her stomach give a warm buzz, her legs tightening around his hips, her toes curling as her whole body became tense.

‘No’, she wanted to say, wanted to pull her legs against her own chest and push him away with her feet, wanted to place her palms on his cheeks and push away his mouth because she knew, knew quite suddenly this was one of those things an adult –especially her father- shouldn’t do, shouldn’t be allowed to do her. But… she would wait, wait until that warm tongue was pulled from her mouth, wait until it stopped stroking so tenderly against hers, stirring the heat between her legs. She listened as strange shaky sounds spilled from her lips, shut her eyes to the foggy look on her father’s face as he coaxed her tongue into his mouth. She shivered as he sucked. His mouth tasted like the coffee she had brewed for him just hours before, and the sweet ginger and icing of the cookies she had baked. Sweet-smelling shaking breaths puffed pasted her parted lips as she was tilted back, laid across the cooler fabric of her sheets. Her arms hung weakly around her father’s neck, her legs sliding limp from his hips, framing him against her as he loomed above, hardly visible in the darkness. She could see only the flecks of too-dim light scatter about his hair, the faint misty glow of his eyes.

“Dad,” she whimpered softly as her mouth was freed, her lips tingling with warmth. “What- why- please-” but her words were drowned out by a swift shaky moan, her eyes shutting out the unreadable darkness around her. A warm wet tongue was lapping shyly at her neck, damp ragged breath skating across her ear. Strong but yielding hands skimmed up her sides, gathering folds over his wrists as he pushed the fabric up his daughter’s stomach, one tiny inch at a time. His hands shook badly; his teeth coasting along her neck, clipping her skin in the softest nervous bite.

Sakura bit her lip, her body giving a sharp little jolt as she held in a sharp moan, closing her throat, only a muted whimper fluttering past her lips. The skin under his tongue buzzed strangely, pulsing in time with the growing ache between her legs.

She felt her father shift, moving on his knees, shifting his weight above her. The backs of her thighs slid snuggly against him as he moved; something firm and warm sliding against the damp thin fabric of her panties. Sakura gasped sharply, hardly hearing herself over the faint pleasured purr that hummed in her father’s throat. Shame made his voice shake.

Fujitaka’s hips swayed forward again, deliberately this time, pressing something firm to the space between Sakura’s legs. She gave a brief shout of shock as she felt it jump against her, twitch and nudge the crease in her panties. The wetness felt unpleasant and she squirmed against it, trying to unstick the thinning fabric from her sensitive skin.

Her father’s breath was deeper then usual now, coming in slow hallow gasps as he drew himself back, pressed forward again while his fingers rattled under the fabric of Sakura’s shirt, just before the gentle raise of her tiny babyish breasts.

Sakura couldn’t hold her breath a second longer as she felt the gentle nudge between her legs, her lips fell apart and she cried out, panicked and confused, hot in ways she had never been, wanting something she had no idea how to ask for.

“Daddy!”

Fujitaka froze for a few long moments, breathing unevenly against the wet skin of his daughter’s lithe neck. Sakura’s eyes were wound tightly shut, her breath hissing through her clenched jaw in tight little gasps.

Something wet flicked against her cheek. One of her eyes cracked open but it was to dark to see just what it was, as another warm drop landed next to the first, dripped down her cheek in a smooth balmy stroke.

Before she could turn her head to try and get a better look at her father, Fujitaka was off of the bed and across the room. She felt suddenly cool without the suffocating heat of him on top of her, the chill settling firmly between her legs. The fabric of her panties clung to her stubbornly as he sat up, squirming her legs. Her eyes starred hazy over flushed cheeks at the door as Fujitaka slipped out wordlessly, shutting the door behind himself a little more firmly then he meant.

Sakura sat still, feeling the rapid tug of her own panicked breath, the persistent throb between her legs, the slight tingle of dampness drying on her face. Raising an unsteady hand, she touched her cheek, feeling the clean slick texture of water.

Tears.

Something struggled against the numbness of her mind but she shut it out, reaching down and squirming out of her underwear, tossing it carelessly into the dark. She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around, trying to breathe evenly, willing the panic and the other feelings she had to strength to decipher to fade.

She spent many long hours starring into the dark.

End chapter one... comments? Anyone interested in more?