Thought i'd try my hand at the Mashley...I hope this is up to par.
if not, oh well...i tried damnit.
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Title: Friction
Author: girl_in_her_bed
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary:sometimes things rub the wrong way.
Rating: R
Pairing: Mashley
Authors Note: strange things occur when i listen to certain music, words flow through these fingers into the keyboard and small creations like this bloom.I wrote this during my first listen through of Flyleaf's self-titled doesnt make much of a difference in the story line or anything but i thought the energy worked well.
Your lips spit linguistic venom, eyes filled with well disguised passion.
It's your delivery: sharp tongue and even sharper wit, i'm cut and the pain is like a drug.I could avoid you if i tried harder but we both know that would be turned enemies, over something as uninspired as a a get more satisfaction during the moments your fangs rip me apart than you ever did with him, nails digging into his back as you reach it...or really fucking hard because you are his second choice, nothing will ever change to think of it i was always the outcast,hiding my face in pages of edgar's rocker debutante... that sicken me but always you...Duarte the queen, the classic whore without a 'd stab your own mother in the back if it meant you'd obtain that glory you've always craved.I've seen it, watched Sherry act like some toady just to be cast aside when the spotlight is shown your way.I've heard you moan my name during those after practice showers when you think no one is around.
If the homophobic bitch moans a girls name during her big O with no one around to hear...is she still gay?
philosophers all over the world ponder.
Part of me would love the retribution of finally putting the nails in that coffin, pushing you up against those tacky green lockers, hands groping over cloth, the green fabric of your cheerleading skirt bunched up around a tanned long fingers are tangled in my hair,manicured fingerneails digging deliciously into tender skin.
My jean clad thigh pushes the fingers inside you even deeper,the loud moan that threatens to sound is devoured by lips and tongue, rebounds (I remember something about energy and force. An object in motion will stay in motion...) into the fingers clawing even harder into my you can't hold back the sounds any longer, let out a moan and I pull back with a wicked smile
"You love this dont you?"
my fingers never stop, pushing-pulling-rubbing and you just try to concentrate the hardest on staying at least partially upright.
"You fucking love it."
I can see you gasping for air, your mouth opens trying to form a sentence but at this point that would be like trying to outbid Bill Gates on ebay, so you just stare into my burning brown eyes,bite your bottom lip and throw your head back against the locker when i curl my fingers.
I'd lick my lips wickedly at the sight, pressing again just to hear the loud whimper that escapes.
"say it slut."
If only...