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
She already thought herself on the edge, but he tips her even further, ensuring she'll tumble entirely into his oblivion. It's small things, just kindling amid what already blazes, but it feed the fire just the same. The way he holds her now through every thrust, like he means to keep her. The shift of his chest above hers, dragging the sweater higher with every pass, rolling sparks through her nerves. The sound of his voice coming undone against her name, like she's as much curse as prayer to him too.
It's all bearing down on her, each horribly perfect touch designed to tear her apart. Tension builds until he has her strung up in pleasure, so taut she isn't sure she can survive it this time. Through it all, his words rip through her with sudden force, hitching her breath for an entirely different reason. I love fucking you. For the briefest moment, one where a thought has enough time to emerge and begin to flutter, she hears three words instead of four. Her lungs catch on it, frozen in terrified caution and hopeful disbelief. Then she blinks, and the fourth word that'd always been there flares with all this heat between them, defrosting breath and turning wings into ash. She falls back into this rhythm of assured destruction, a smoky laugh of agreement curling from her throat in response.
When his voice spills out again, a warning between gasps, a raw "No—" pleads from her, sound swallowed as his mouth closes over hers. She doesn't want to lose him this soon, not yet, but the moment can't stretch further, least of all with him burying the last rebellion beneath his moan. There’s no line between them anymore, no thought left but his name; everything else is just noise and light and the inevitability of breaking together.
She gives in because she has to, because the fight has nowhere left to go, because surrender is the only way through. Everything inside her—breath, heartbeat, want—winds tight one last time and then snaps against his touch. The release scorches through her, a gasp of heat poured against his teeth. Her body curls up into him, hands wrapping across his back, nails biting for purchase as she drags him closer. Her tighten around him, meeting him with everything she has left, desperate to keep him as each wave of bliss pulls through her like a tide that might carry him away.
It's all bearing down on her, each horribly perfect touch designed to tear her apart. Tension builds until he has her strung up in pleasure, so taut she isn't sure she can survive it this time. Through it all, his words rip through her with sudden force, hitching her breath for an entirely different reason. I love fucking you. For the briefest moment, one where a thought has enough time to emerge and begin to flutter, she hears three words instead of four. Her lungs catch on it, frozen in terrified caution and hopeful disbelief. Then she blinks, and the fourth word that'd always been there flares with all this heat between them, defrosting breath and turning wings into ash. She falls back into this rhythm of assured destruction, a smoky laugh of agreement curling from her throat in response.
When his voice spills out again, a warning between gasps, a raw "No—" pleads from her, sound swallowed as his mouth closes over hers. She doesn't want to lose him this soon, not yet, but the moment can't stretch further, least of all with him burying the last rebellion beneath his moan. There’s no line between them anymore, no thought left but his name; everything else is just noise and light and the inevitability of breaking together.
She gives in because she has to, because the fight has nowhere left to go, because surrender is the only way through. Everything inside her—breath, heartbeat, want—winds tight one last time and then snaps against his touch. The release scorches through her, a gasp of heat poured against his teeth. Her body curls up into him, hands wrapping across his back, nails biting for purchase as she drags him closer. Her tighten around him, meeting him with everything she has left, desperate to keep him as each wave of bliss pulls through her like a tide that might carry him away.
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.
