COLT
I've been sleeping wide awake
Slow dancing 'round the cracks in the floorboards
Fighting myself while lying in a
Bed I made and can't ignore
Slow dancing 'round the cracks in the floorboards
Fighting myself while lying in a
Bed I made and can't ignore
This isn't a fuck, it's a fight. Every moan is an argument, one that begs for him to remain, straining until it breaks into nothing more than a gasp. Each violent snap between their hips is a disagreement that goes unsaid but shouts through their spines, testament to trying if nothing else. Through it all, the pleasure is just an apology trying not to be smothered.
More. More. More.
She needs every part of him, every bit she can have now, knowing that she might not get another chance, not for a while. This night stretches on longer than most, but it'll still end. Buried beneath all these flares of heat and empty halls where thoughts had roamed before his mouth chased them away into madness, she fears what she'll find in the dawn light. Years spent desperate for the night to end, and now she'd give anything for it to continue.
He responds like it's instinct, removing excess space between them in a way that tugs through her with a stutter of breath. He looms over her like something too large, her gaze losing him when her head can no longer tilt to follow the arc he draws across her. It's the same way he is inside her mind usually, impossible to contain.
It's already merciless, the perfect feel of him as he slides against her, driving into her so completely she's hollow with every retreat. That he guides the blankets with unseen hands into an angle of complete ecstasy is a cruel addition. Not content just to wreck her though, he turns ruthless with his care, shadows pooling and winding low against her until she's tangled in rapture. "Gods—Vesper—please," she rasps for relief even as she tilts into the press of dusk, then the thrust that hits just behind it. Her leg draws up higher on his side, writhing against the pressure that builds blindingly inside her at his behest.
She's bleeding away into his touch, torn open with every relentless reach. The spark of his hand up her side feels like it's on a separate body from hers, sensations collapsing into each other until she's nothing more than a chord vibrating beneath his attention. Her head twists in his hold, and its the only thing that feels grounding. Eyes snap open out of the sea of fire she’s been sinking through, just enough to catch on the part of him that's always done her in best. Blue shines through the dark, brighter than the glow of hearth light, or at least it feels like she could burn beneath the blaze of them. It's that, more than anything, that'll stay with her after this. Not the bliss that screams through her wherever they collide, but that brief, sharp way he looked at her like she could be something.
It tumbles away, seared into thoughts too deep to rouse when his lungs are pouring hot breath and need across her. Her name, spoken by him like that, sinks into her like a kiss he plants on her soul, and she radiates with the potential of ruin. She groans long and deep in response, her hands each languidly curving above her head, sighing into the inevitability of breaking around him. Her breasts rise with the motion, dragging her nipples across the spread of his sweater with a roll of friction that nearly topples her over, not requiring much more now. It pulls another gasp from her before she dissolves back into the rhythm of breath and want he draws from her.
Her ragged breath is a repeating plea to stay, though she's long since lost track of whether or not she's asking it of him, or of herself to keep the memory of this.
More. More. More.
She needs every part of him, every bit she can have now, knowing that she might not get another chance, not for a while. This night stretches on longer than most, but it'll still end. Buried beneath all these flares of heat and empty halls where thoughts had roamed before his mouth chased them away into madness, she fears what she'll find in the dawn light. Years spent desperate for the night to end, and now she'd give anything for it to continue.
He responds like it's instinct, removing excess space between them in a way that tugs through her with a stutter of breath. He looms over her like something too large, her gaze losing him when her head can no longer tilt to follow the arc he draws across her. It's the same way he is inside her mind usually, impossible to contain.
It's already merciless, the perfect feel of him as he slides against her, driving into her so completely she's hollow with every retreat. That he guides the blankets with unseen hands into an angle of complete ecstasy is a cruel addition. Not content just to wreck her though, he turns ruthless with his care, shadows pooling and winding low against her until she's tangled in rapture. "Gods—Vesper—please," she rasps for relief even as she tilts into the press of dusk, then the thrust that hits just behind it. Her leg draws up higher on his side, writhing against the pressure that builds blindingly inside her at his behest.
She's bleeding away into his touch, torn open with every relentless reach. The spark of his hand up her side feels like it's on a separate body from hers, sensations collapsing into each other until she's nothing more than a chord vibrating beneath his attention. Her head twists in his hold, and its the only thing that feels grounding. Eyes snap open out of the sea of fire she’s been sinking through, just enough to catch on the part of him that's always done her in best. Blue shines through the dark, brighter than the glow of hearth light, or at least it feels like she could burn beneath the blaze of them. It's that, more than anything, that'll stay with her after this. Not the bliss that screams through her wherever they collide, but that brief, sharp way he looked at her like she could be something.
It tumbles away, seared into thoughts too deep to rouse when his lungs are pouring hot breath and need across her. Her name, spoken by him like that, sinks into her like a kiss he plants on her soul, and she radiates with the potential of ruin. She groans long and deep in response, her hands each languidly curving above her head, sighing into the inevitability of breaking around him. Her breasts rise with the motion, dragging her nipples across the spread of his sweater with a roll of friction that nearly topples her over, not requiring much more now. It pulls another gasp from her before she dissolves back into the rhythm of breath and want he draws from her.
Her ragged breath is a repeating plea to stay, though she's long since lost track of whether or not she's asking it of him, or of herself to keep the memory of this.
I'm tired of running from the conversations
Screaming in the silence, all alone
I'm frustrated, I can't take it
But I'll fake it, then I'll hate myself again
Screaming in the silence, all alone
I'm frustrated, I can't take it
But I'll fake it, then I'll hate myself again
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
