rebelcaptain 5 for the fic prompt, ahahaha fuck me up
send me a ship and one of these and iāll write a mini fic
5.Ā things you didnāt say at all
if it was going to happen, it would happen like this:
Theyād argued about something small, but it feels more important than it is, fanned by frustration neither understands; their faces are flushed and too close, chests heaving, breathless from otherās compromise. She cranes up, near enough that he could count her eyelashes if he cared to. By now heās wary, but it makes no difference to see the need coming. Suddenly itās easy to picture her arched beneath him, her breath hot on his ear; itās easy to imagine that familiar look of challenge searing him to the bone when he pins her hard. Itās easy, and heās weak.Ā
Thereās no coming back from the image. Her gaze drifts to his mouth, lingers, lingers ā¦ they are caught as the space between them shrinks and shivers, as they circle and close. She touches him first; her hands burn around his wrists, fingers trailing fire. His heart is aflame.Ā
Itās a mess, heād said ā thatās what argument was about. She leaves her garbage everywhere. It seems ridiculous, now; like an excuse to get in each otherās faces. Why do they need an excuse?
He knows youāre supposed to say something in these situations; choking on the same need in darkened corners, hesitating on the threshold. He knows enough to know that itās futile, but thereās no accounting for dumb animal instinct. He knows enough to know the fall will hurt.Ā
If it was going to happen, she would break first; grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him back against the bulkhead. He would gasp before her mouth crashed against his, and her need would revive him, consume him; he would cup her neck, feel her pulse racing against his palms. She would bite his lip with a feral grin, and he would plunge his hands up her shirt, fingertips dancing over her ribcage, smiling as she trembled in his arms. He would groan when she pulled at the waist of his pants.Ā
he would say we shouldnāt, he would say i need you, he would say her name, again and again, but her mouth is hot and wet, and the words burrow deep, embers in ash.Ā
