#human vox

 “vincent-” your breathy protest is muffled by the force of his kiss, and you can’t help but lean into him. despite that, you still try to pull back again, panting, “we might- mmmf-”

 his hands—his goddamn hands—trace up the expanse of your sides, ghosting over the bump of your ribs, trailing shivers in his wake. vincent reacquaints his fingers with your hair, only to fist it in his grip as he continues to kiss you like a man starved.

 “s’ raining buckets out there,” he breathes in between hungered kisses, “y’r alright, gorgeous. told– mmh– told you, focus on me.” 

 you don’t know if you should regret the fact that he had deliberately picked out your outfit for the day, all under the guise that he wanted the two of you to “match”. but his hands are slipping your unbuttoned blouse off your shoulders, the chill from the air conditioning dances under the hem of your skirt and fogs up the glass, and his fingers are suddenly brushing over the cuff of your knee-highs as he pulls you in closer by the thighs.

 a choked gasp makes its way from your mouth to his, and he swallows it up, echoing the sound back to you with more than a pleasured noise of his own. your top is tossed over his headrest to the backseat as vincent dives back in with even more fervour than before, and you can do nothing but melt into it. into his hold, into the kiss, into him. 

 where did you end and he start, really?

 his name is a whisper on your lips, and on his, so is your own—only suddenly, he’s shoving a hand down the side of his seat in search for the lever, and you’re both reclining backwards. vincent’s hands plant themselves on your hips as he shifts you off his lap, letting your back meet the leather as he moves to hover above you.

 “are you crazy?” you ask breathlessly, laughing in disbelief.

 “in more ways than one.” vincent nudges the strong bridge of his nose against your temple as his lips brush over the shell of your ear. “in the head, in love, for you, in general?”

 the rain continues to pour and hammer with the threat and promise of thunder—a disturbance that would more often than not unnerve you—but right now, it was nothing but white noise, drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in tune to the jazz that plays from the car stereo.

 without pulling away, vincent’s hand sneaks into what little space was left between the two of you, moving up his chest to loosen his tie.

 “take your pick, princess.”

꩜ a/n: short oneshot slash blurb to get me out of an insane writing slump . i wrote the first half of this in the backseat of my mother's car last week when all three of my spotify accounts got hacked and my main got disabled for "suspected fraudulent activity" and i was so overcome by fury after two hours of contacting spotify support left and right that my entire body was heating up like mad (i've come to realise that i get the worst hot flashes whenever i'm angry) and even though the AC was cranked up and was colder than usual bc it was STORMING outside (couldn't get out and unlock the gate cuz we had no umbrella so we ate our takeout in the car) i had to rip off my shirt while shovelling jollibee burger steak into my mouth and that was when this magnificent wonderful idea ocurred to me . see thats how u know im pure of heart i can still manage to find happiness and delusion in the face of adversity . knights of king arthur's round table hmu yall finally got someone new to take excalibur out the rock and shes got a pretty damn great ass tumblr user dostoevskya doing anything but posting the next chapter of her fic (2)

will be cross-posted to ao3 soon!

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