#hemsy

“India, I don’t want to say it again.” Her wet swimsuit was still on the floor in the upstairs bathroom, just as it was thirty minutes ago.

“Put the tablet down and do what she says or I swear you will not see that thing for a week.” Chris rounded the kitchen corner to eye her, watch her huff and throw it down on the couch and slowly walk for the stairs.

Today was not her day. She had been defiant since the moment she woke up, crying because she didn’t want to eat breakfast, sad that she doesn’t have the sandals that she likes in California, heart broken that the shirt she wanted was in the washer. It was enough to drive you crazy for the day.

You threw the blanket you were folding on to the back of the couch and sat down next to one of the boys who was making seemingly a million little paper airplanes. His fine motor skills weren’t very sharp, so the edges were very crooked and not creased, but he didnt care. His little fingers did what they could to keep him entertained.

Sasha was your saving grace compared to the other two. He was easy to please, and compliant, the easygoing child, much like you were.

Chris had been seated at the kitchen table for the past hour on his laptop trying to memorize maps and try to plan out what we were going to be doing. He had been watching travel sites for information, trying to track how long the drives were from each stop. It sounded like too much work honestly, you were a road trip veteran. You learned to go with the flow, it is hard to follow a timeline, but you left him to it. He had ever done this across the states, you had.

By some grace of god, Elsa was going to be flying into LA and was going to stay with the kids. Back months ago, you both had this time planned for Paris, the kids were going to fly out of Paris with their mother to Spain and spend two weeks with them while we were all in Europe.

This ment begging Chris for an extra night in Vegas. Originally only staying one night at the Mirage because it seemed the most kid friendly to you. You on the spot asked him to cancel those reservations and book two nights at Paris instead. It was your absolute favorite hotel of them all, and was home to your favorite restaurant that looked over the Bellagio fountains. He had never been, so either way he didn’t care but you were determined to show him the best time possible.

Plus you had a surprise in mind, located in Treasure Island, and maybe another in the Venetian. You were going to have to be sneaky about it, deciding to call Gen later in secret and make sure it would be okay, she would get it setup for sure.

“Go fly one of these at Papa, tell him to get off the computer and come play with you,” you whispered quietly in Sasha’s ear. He turned to you with a mischievous smile, starting to giggle and cover his mouth to stay quiet. He picked a few up off the floor and one from the coffee table and started to tiptoe across the room, moving slowly like he was a spy. Your gaze shifted between Chris and the creeping ninja on his way to attack.

He was sat hunched over the computer with his hand covering his chin, eyes scanning the screen.

“Papa!” Sasha’s high pitched voice broke the silence, pelting all four airplanes like they were baseballs at his head. “Come play with me!” He jumped suddenly at the sound of his voice, watching the paper fall on to the keys.

“Play with you? You want me to come play with you?” He rose from his seat as the boy slowly nodded his head, ready to dart in the opposite direction to get chased. You watched Sasha dart around the room, Chris on his tail, Tristan running to you to take cover.

Later that night he was stuck back at the laptop after the kids were in bed. Sat against the headboard looking for hotels around your hometown regardless of the fact that you had told him there was no way your mother was going to allow that. He was afraid of intruding on her since you insisted it be a surprise. A compromise was reached when you agreed to call her in the morning and tell her that you were coming again, but only her.

Trying to pack the last of the clothing proved to be a bigger job than you had anticipated. Everything was washed and the kids were finished, but you swore he had brought his entire closet with him.

“How the heavens did you fit all of this in here in the first place!?” Trying to opt for a new way to arrange the luggage.

“I told you I would do it, just leave it be!” He pulled his eyes away from the screen, watching you surrounded by clothing on the floor.

“Really? If you packed this, nothing would be folded and there would be no order to anything. Then I would lose sleep over it.” It ended up working by putting all the shoes in a duffle bag, yours included, then putting some of his things in your two bags. Remaining in control of all the little things was what kept you sane. You ignored his continued obsession over the computer screen and resorted to pulling through drawers to make sure everything was out and your weren't leaving anything behind when you both left in the morning.

Inside a drawer of the dresser was two scripts that had been sent to him, some other paperwork, and a manila folder. You grabbed them all out, knowing they would be forgotten if you didn’t, and tossed them all on the top of the closed suitcases, not knowing where to put them at the moment. You watched as the papers slid off the top of the suitcase to a sloppy pile on the ground. You had always had an amazing aim.

The papers were gathered in a pile and you sat down to try and straighten them out and shove them all in the folder when a certain few words caught your eye.

“MARVEL TWO FILM CONTRACT”

The stapled papers got singled out on the carpet in front of you, flipping over the next 10 pages, seeing zero signatures. The contemplation zoomed through your brain, whether you should even be snooping or not. You continued anyway, hyper focused on the documents in hand.

Not a single pen mark was on any of the papers besides the last, signed fresh by Kevin Fiege in black ink, dated almost four weeks ago. You tried to conceal the confusion, silently covering your mouth and glancing back up to him, who was not paying a lick of attention to you.

Why had he not signed it yet? Did he not want to finish this? Its only two films, much smaller than the last.

“Chris,” your voice was quiet and trying to gain the courage to ask, but heard easily over the sound of the fan in the room. You were met with a hum, not looking your way yet. “Are you- do you not want to do this?”

As if he suddenly knew exactly what you were talking about, he shut the computer and sat up, staring at you on the floor with the other papers in a pile. The sudden urge to defend your curiosity took over.

“I-I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I was just, you were going to forget this stuff and, I pulled it out. It-They fell.” Your words were having trouble making it out to make sense, though he didn’t move from his spot to grab anything from you.

He took a deep breath, running a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. He motioned for you to join him on the bed and you followed quickly, bringing the papers with you.

“I didn’t sign them yet.” He said, pulling the paper from your grasp flipping back a few pages. “The filming period is 18 months- maybe longer, due to start in November.” He pointed out a section on the fourth page, stating the filming period and locations. You still didn’t understand. So what? You knew he had done more rigorous work in the past, what was two more movies, and then being done with it?

“Do you not want to do this?” You asked again. Your question remained the same.

“(Y/N) it’s not that I wouldn’t want to do the movies, of course I would want to do them. But it’s a very long filming period. Two big movies back to back again. I filmed Ragnarok, then Infinity war, and Endgame all back to back and was pretty much gone for a straight year and a half. Almost two.” The longing feeling that would take place inside yourself during that period was treading up lightly. He hadn’t been legit filming the entire time you’ve been with them. He had just finished. But it was his job, and he built this character into something far deeper than expected. The obligation to finish the story was far greater than the obligation to be selfish and not do two last movies, at least that is what you were thinking.

“I don’t understand.” The air was starting to hang heavy over your confusion.

“Doing something like that again, being contractually bound to it, it was hard on the kids. Me being away for long periods of time. It was hard on me. It was- It was hard on my marriage.” Finally understanding where this was going. You stayed silent, thinking about it. The timeline matches up, something you had never thought about before. You never pried him for answers, you figured he would tell you if it mattered. This was him telling you. Now, it matters to him. “It is not that I don’t want to do the movies. It’s just the rough draft of the schedule that- that stresses me, I guess.”

“You’re job is not easy.” He put the papers aside on the nightstand. “I can’t tell you what to do. But if I could, I think I would tell you to sign them.” He leaned back on the pillows while you put the laptop on your nightstand and adjusted the blankets. “I think that you can pull this off. It’s just two more years and you can take off as long as you’d like. You have worked like crazy these past couple years. Cranking movies out, one after another. You’ve made your mark Chris.”

You paused to let him speak. To tell you that you don’t know what you are talking about or that he just doesn’t want to do it at all. But he didn’t speak. He laid in contemplation, staring at the ceiling and listening to your words of encouragement.

“Don’t worry about the kids, don’t worry about me. You can be selfish about this, finish what you started.” He laid still in his quiet thought. It became clear to you that he had thought about this for a long time, even still didn’t feel like he knew the correct decision. He thought of you, what kind of future would take place if he signed and if he didn’t. He decided himself he wasn’t willing to put everything on the line with you, but that was where he wasn’t thinking clearly.

The silence swallowed up the room, suddenly making you understand why he was so hesitant.

“I’m not Elsa, Chris.” His eyes snapped quickly to you, daring you to continue. “I don’t-I don’t have a modeling career to run towards. I’m not… taking the backseat for you to do this. I like to think I’m sitting in the front seat, ready to grab the wheel for you.” Your silly analogy lightened his mood, but it was true. It was different.

“You think I should sign them.”

“Do the damn thing.” He still didn’t move. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything but-”

“You are not pressuring me, I’ll do it. You are right.” He stood up grabbing a pen from the bedside table. You started to panic, definitely feeling like you had just guilted him into it.

“Are you sure?” You watched him with bright eyes. He deserved to let himself do this. He would never forgive himself if he didnt.

You felt almost a sense of pride as you watched him sign the last page, ignoring your further questions, standing almost naked with only boxers on, almost 11PM.

“Don’t move! Freeze! I want to take a picture.” Of course he didn’t listen and stood up straight. “Say cheese!” He smiled silly and held up the paper showing his signature.

~

“Woah.” We were coming up on the strip and could see it from the highway. “Which one is Paris?”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say the one with an Eiffel Tower attached to it,” you said, looking at him like he shouldn’t be driving if he couldn’t see it from here. The drive had just reached over four hours. Four hours of you talking about Vegas and stories from the last two times you had come, trying your hardest to leave out the surprise. He’d see it for sure when you got there.

His restlessness was rubbing off on you. Turning onto the south side of the strip, you watched as he admired Luxor and your other favorite, New York New York, through the windshield. Arriving farther down the strip, you eyed the big sign attached to Treasure Island. Granted, it was still another two blocks down the strip but honestly. He seemed oblivious to it, eyes attached to the Bellagio fountains and trying to pull into the valet at Paris.

How the fuck did he not just see that? Surely he knows about it. You decided to not say anything just yet, proceeding to follow directions that Gen had given you both. The luxury of not having to lug your own bags around the hotel entrance and through the casino to find your room had never been presented to you before. Questioning him as he left the keys with Valet without grabbing the bags, waiting for security before going inside. Oh, right.

You walked with two security guys that worked for the hotel, weaving through the hotel to the check-in desks, greeted by a manager. He was promptly handed two room cards, and a hotel brochure.

As soon as you entered the room you went straight for the window to see the view. He gave his thanks to security and shut the door behind him, following you to the window. The giddy smile across your face couldn’t help but spread to his. His arms wrapped around you, resting his head on top of yours. You leaned back against him, relaxing into the enveloping warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” you looked out at the view from the room, feeling excited to get out there.

“For what?”

“Just being you, I guess.” You leaned over in his arms and he met you for a kiss. He was gentle and unrushed. You had hoped he would mellow out once you got on the road.

You turned in his arms pushing him across the room till he hit the bed and sat down.

“Just being me, huh?”

“Oh shut it,” wishing he would wipe the smirk off his face. You straddled his lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders, his coming to your hips. He welcomed your kiss, wrapping yourself around him. His smirked disappeared as you both deepened the kiss, his tongue poking around yours. He left gentle kisses across your jaw, pressing hard against your pulse point sending a shiver down your skin.

A knock at the door interrupted your trance, Chris pulling a way and placing a small quick kiss at your lips.

“I love you,” he said quickly going to stand up to open the door. You locked your limbs around him, locking your ankles behind his back while he stood up.

“Oh c’mon, really?” You pouted, clinging to him. He chuckled and unwrapped your feet setting you on the edge of the bed, reluctantly letting go.

You quickly fingered through your hair to make it look somewhat presentable as your bags were piled in the room off a trolly. You immediately went for clothes and a makeup bag. There are so many bags, surely you do not need all of these for two days here.

“Hey woah, don’t we get to finish what we started?” He walked up to you taking the makeup bag out of your hands and setting it on the desk. Before you could answer he had grabbed the bag of your thighs, hoisted to his waist, walking back to the bed, your arms reflexively going around his shoulders. He started to nip at your neck, sitting back down and rigorously trying to go back to what you had started.

“Wait,” you choked out, trying to remember what you were going to say. “I- I made us dinner plans.”

“You did?” he spoke softly, lightening up on his assault.

“Mhmm,” his hands left your hips, pulling under your shirt and running up your exposed skin. His lips found yours for just a moment before you pulled off of him. A groan erupted from his throat as you slipped from his grasp.

“Princess,” His voice carried a coarse, impure ring to it.

“Just have some patience,” your voice was definitely lacking the conviction it needed. The thought of making him wait was almost detrimental to your will, always ready to give in. With only two nights to show him Vegas, you wanted to do something before dinner as well.

You went back for the makeup bag and a black and floral jumpsuit, after all, you can’t wear a dress on a gondola! You hadn’t gotten to do them yet but you were determined to this time around. Through The Venetian they had a gondola river flowing in and out of the casino and hotel, surrounded in an Italian setting and a guide, it looked amazing and romantic and you couldn’t wait to show him.

“Can you wear your blue button down? It shows off your ocean eyes, I like it,” you disappear into the bathroom, whisking away the blush of your confession. Too forward of a request? Hopefully not. The mirror in the bathroom was something to be admired, excited to do your makeup. Getting dolled up sounds so amazing, it was a rare occurrence these days.

“Okay so, we are gonna go to the Venetian. It is down just two blocks. I’m just, so excited!” He eyed up and down the street, admiring the detailed tall buildings, the dancing fountain across the street. So much for the blue shirt he looked so handsome in, you knew he was going to have those obnoxious sunglasses covering his eyes till the sun went down.

“But what are we doing? Just walking?” He fell into step next to you, clasping your hand to keep close through the crowded sidewalks.

“We are going to go on a gondola ride and pretend we are in Italy!” You couldn’t wipe the smile of your face.

“Holy shit,” he said quickly, halting his footsteps in place, almost tugging you backwards. Both of you getting dirty remarks from those behind you. Your heart felt a quick jolt at the thought of people recognizing him and ruining your evening, maybe even the days here. You quickly tugged him forward telling him to keep walking before he draws attention to himself, not bothering to mask the urgency in your tone. You looked up ahead knowing he finally saw it.

“Is that-no way! That’s me!” You shook your head, lugging him along behind you trying to keep up with the pace of everyone else. He kept talking to himself, saying how in the world he didn’t know about it, trying to ask you questions about it. You skipped the part about telling him you had gone a few years ago, though surely it would come up tomorrow.

You answered all he needed to know while you both were in your own little world, floating through the hotel. The detail and styles of the build captured his eyes. The body language he showed was taken back at the extravagance of the hotels, each having a strong thematic presence.

He admired the posters at the entrance of the wax museum, walking to the counter for tickets, thanking heavens there was no line or crowds. He made fun, taking selfies with almost everyone of them. Kissing Dwayne Johnson, laying with Hugh Hefner, standing even taller on his tippy toes with an annoyed look next to Captain America. You indulged yourself, posing with Khloe Kardashian who almost towered over you as Chris did. You got close with Channing Tatum and Bradley Cooper, making him take your photos. Needless to say, you both probably had way to much fun, spending way too much time in each themed room.

An amazing idea popped in your head as you entered the main gala, telling him you were going to play a game of freeze. You positioned him down the couch from Will Smith, on hand on his knee.

“Don’t move!! When the next guests walk through I’m gonna act like I’m taking a picture with you. You can not move! Or it won’t work!” He was on board almost immediately, ready to scare the whoever dared to get close. You moved away from him to check it out, starting to hear chatter coming up the escalator from the outside.

“Oh my goodness don’t move! I’m gonna video!” You whispered to him, running the Brad Pitt, pretending to be interested with him.

You watched from the side, trying your hardest not to reveal him from laughing. If you started laughing, he would to.

The onlookers drifted from each wax figure at the entrance, spotting a perfect seat between Will and Chris.

“Ooo! Take one of me here too!” The woman handed her company an Iphone, skipping to the couch. You watched with wide eyes as he looked like he was about to burst an eyeball from not blinking or breathing. He snuck a small, quick blink, making it difficult not to pee yourself from holding in the laughter. The man slowly lowered the camera, tossing her name into the air to get her attention. He ignored her questioning reply and walked a bit closer, eyeing him.

“What?” She asked him again, ready to pose for the picture, both her arms around their shoulders. As soon as her arm landed she jumped away, Chris screamed at her to scare her and she screamed back profanities, clutching her chest.

The eruption of laughter continued, yours probably obnoxiously ruining the video you were trying to hold steady.

You kept it going as he greeted them both, being the best he could be before you ended it. You approached the couple as they all calmed down, automatically being put in charge of taking photos for them.

You listened as Chris asked them nicely if they could hold off on posting anything for a day or two, asking to enjoy his time here with you, drifting his arm around your back. You blushed from his stare as they nodded in agreement of his explanation.

The four of you ended up snaking through the themed rooms together. You left your separate ways after you airdropped the video to her, reviewing it all together again to catch his blinking.

On the way back towards Paris, you passed through the mall to hit a couple stores, buying too many brushes and a few Jeffree lippies at Morphe. You followed him into Swarovski, refusing to allow him to inform you of the prices of the wrist watches he was admiring.

Dinner was more than what you expected. Gen had come through with the the string pulling. The manager offered you both free wine tasting while you had a stunning table, privately seated along the balcony. The fountains to keep you both entertained for the time being.

“I am genuinely lost for words.” The dessert was sat down on the table, but his eyes were on you. The dark sky and lowlit balcony did the most to hide your rose blush, but you both knew it was there.

“Well I’m glad you like it,” the glass of Sangria seated on the table top had become increasingly attention-grabbing under his stare.

“Come here,” the legs of his chair scratched across the ground as he scooted back from the table. His hands secured around yours, bringing you to sit on his lap, stealing the glass from you and setting it on the table.

You observed his movements with curiosity until he met your lips for a thank you. His hands keeping you from sliding from his grasp. You leaned into his chest, grazing his neck with your fingertips to savour his slow moving taste on your lips. The certain kiss that no words are needed, or exchanged. Striving to accept his appreciation, overjoyed with the romantic atmosphere that was created for the evening. He was quick to create a bliss in you that had you forgetting to breathe, forgetting to act appropriately in public, regardless of the needed privacy.  

“I love you,” his promise was whispered against your lips. The kind of moment where your thoughts flash through your mind erupted in your head. Regardless of any crush, or any love you had thought you felt before this moment, it was fake. It was swept away in the wind. Any charm that was presented to you in the past, it was weak. Any humor you found in someone else, it was paled in comparison to the joy he was always radiating on to you. Any soul crushing want, it was ignored and invisible until your eyes settled on him.

“And I love you.”

After a few minutes, you both decided it could be time to leave. Before you could exit the restaurant, you were met with the same hotel manager that gave you the room cards from earlier. She stood strict with two men from security with her. She spoke about offering security if you chose to remain in the casino for the evening.

You stayed stiff, almost behind him as you glance towards the entrance of the restaurant, where two more guards were trying to escort a few photographers out of the casino.

“We can keep professional photographers out, but guests with cameras are a different story.” She gazed between you both with sympathy. Before he could even turn to look at your reaction, you informed her that you would stay for the rest of the evening. It was only almost 10PM.

He didn’t know, but Gen was smart enough to assign you with security for all day tomorrow. Going to S.T.A.T.I.O.N. was the given reason, but also so you could explore further. You obviously didn’t expect to be walking the streets all day long, so nothing of it was much of a surprise to you, just an inconvenience.

Between walking to the room, you admired him as he stopped and took a few photos with people. They were all polite, waiting patiently as he made his way around the group of about 10. There were not many instincts to go in the opposite direction like the first time you ran into this problem with him. Granted it was still kind of weird, but more admirable.

As soon as you got into the room and started to pull off jewelry, you heard him shutting the door behind you, “So, do we get to finish what we started yet?”

You couldn’t hide the laugh that started, “Hmmm… Shower first?”

He groaned, saying he agrees only if he can shower with you. You were not one to say no, after all. He walked straight in there, stripping clothes as he walked across the room. You of course had to grab all the essentials into a bag first to carry in there. There was no way you were going to use that shampoo, soap, and face wash they provide. Before walking into the already steamy room, you gathered his scattered clothing and threw it in the corner on top of his bag. Messy clothing happened to be one of his downfalls.

You placed all your clothing on the counter top before opening the shower door, greeted with a stupid youthful grin, happy he got his way.

“You really are just a big child, you know that?” You switched him spots so the water trickled over you, wetting your hair and warming your skin. You reached for the face wash first, turning away from him when you washed it away and caught him fixated on you.

His fingers working diligently through your hair with shampoo. You didn’t even have to ask. The friction against your scalp was worthy of a licensed masseuse. You held back a groan when he lifted his touch, turning you with your eyes closed so the water could flush the product away. The silent minutes turned softly intimate as he brushed the warm rain back from your face, reaching for the other bottle.

You felt his lips press firmly against your forehead, a gesture that warmed you apart from the water. You leaned forward into his abdomen so the fall of the water hit lower on your back while he ran conditioned fingers through your hair.

The raw intimacy that encompassed him was overbearing. It was almost as if he could feel his heart swell while you display yourself for him to care for. It wasn’t just a wash in the shower. It was the unspoken, ‘I trust you,’ that captured his attention. He remembered the days that you would shyly bare yourself to him and not accept his need to be near you and touching you.

Your tapping fingertips against his back broke him from his thoughts, silently instructing him to continue playing with your hair.

“Okay lean back,” his soft voice broke the silence. You held onto his arms as his hands worked against the waterfall to drain the conditioner from your hair, eventually letting go to wipe your eyes when he slowed to a stop.

You reached for your own body wash, spreading it across his chest and up to his shoulders. “My turn,” you told him.

He waited patiently, zoned in on your expression and touch while you ran your soapy digits across his skin. The pure contentment and innocence of it was driving him almost wild, running down his sides, down his arms, your fingers dancing slowly across his neck.

He quickly returned the favor, the length of his hands covering your back quickly, drawing down your backside and thighs, causing bumps across the surface of your skin to rise. You leaned into him again as he planted soft kisses across the back of your neck while his hands reached the insides of your thighs, squeezing gently causing you to almost lose your footing.

“Your skin is so soft Princess,” his whispers sent shivers down your spine and straight to your core. One hand left the party and traced up to your chest before wrapping around you there and the other finally ghosting over your clit. You jumped slightly in his hold, gasping at the contact.

His fingers slowly circled the nub, painfully, agonizingly slow while he listened to your labored breathing, a soft whine escaping you. Your brain starting to short circuit while you tried to hold on to every ounce of pleasure he would give you. You kept a steadfast grip on his forearms, trying to grind into his touch, a motion to beg for more that ended up driving against his hardening cock behind you.

You stilled hearing his voice in your ear. Two fingers teased your entrance, circling it and dipping his fingertips in to dance around lightly. The slow torture was enough for you to be letting out a quiet plea for more.

They shoved in, stretching you out on his fingers. Your balance almost gone if it weren’t for his arms holding you up. He quickly started to pulse around, tracing inside your slick heat untill the moans withered out to silent pants and your hands gripped his arms almost to tight.

Your eyes clamped shut as a wash of pleasure rolled through you, your walls squeezing around the intrusion while it dragged on till he slowed.

Hot kisses were placed over your neck and shoulder while your breathing was slowing, trying to gasp through the humid air. He was speaking praises in your ear, how good you were cumming around his fingers, letting him bring you there.

His hold released from you, quickly turning off the tap and grabbing for the white fluffy towel to dry you off and haul you out of the shower.

Before you could get a word out he was pushing you backwards out of the bathroom, straight back into the bed. No words needed to be spoken anyway. It was at the point where he just wanted you to feel what he could give you. Feel his love for you, outside of spoken words but through his actions and intentions.

His love ment pushing you to bliss 3 more times with a slow and deep rhythm that had you clawing from the sheets, pillows, to him arms in attempt to ground you from his onslaught. With tears peddling against your will when he thrust into you so deep and hard when you hit your last high, eyes almost blacking out for your overexertion and voice straining from an uncontrolled vocal response. The light headed dizzy feeling you get when he finally blows a load deep inside you after rutting against you for his high when he knew you could take no more. Proclaiming his promises against your neck while burying himself in you, that you knew deep down were not just from a sex high.

His fatigue ridden body laid tilting across you, trying not to crush but muscles shaking in place, refusing to cooperate enough to move farther away.

When you finally came to, almost clear headed enough to fully form a sentence, meaning your muscles lost the strained twitch and your eyes could open enough to focus on surroundings, you found him with a slower breathing pattern than your own, admiring you as if he hadn’t just done so for the past hour.

He brushed away tear marks and messy hair from your skin while you sported red swollen lips, blown out eyes, and deep red marks across your breasts to compliment your skin, courtesy of his attempt at showing affection and appreciation. The sight was a treat for his own to view, but was nothing compared the to the fucked out leaking mess he left you with on your bottom half.

You watched with lost eyes, not enough energy to stop him as his fingers gently ran up your mess, cleaning, gently pressing his seed filled fingers in. Your pelvis shook at the intrusion even though you were almost numb to his touch. The thought of his actions was enough to kick start your belonging underneath his bearing weight.

He pulled away, sensing your wariness, to treat your new marks across your chest to a soothing aftermath. Your arms gaining strength to redirect his lips again, timidly to your own. A soft press of his kiss was meticulous to avoid any more torments of your skin.

“All mine Princess.” A careful watched teetered over your expression, touch ghosting over your jaw as you nodded and rasped an ‘I love you,’ that was returned before you could even finish speaking the familiar the words.  

“Don’t move baby, I’ll be right back.” He pulled from your weak hold and came back a minute later with boxers, he put use to a washcloth, and gifted you a clean t-shirt of his that you gladly slipped over your shoulders. You immediately nested through the blankets curling into his arm as a pillow.

“Aren’t you gonna play with my hair?” You asked, closing your eyes.

“Whatever you want.”