A.N.: I know there are two other things that need to be worked on, and I appreciate the reviews I've gotten for the long engsey story. I need to continue it again. *sigh*
But here's this thing I jotted down at like 3 in the morning. it's my friend's fault. she and I are doing an engsey rp and it's just the cutest thing ever. it's become such a nice story too vuv
anyways, this is short and dumb and i'm a procrastinator. bye.
She couldn't stand him.
She couldn't stand the way he could saunter so easily into her life and just settle in like he had always been there; like he forever would be there and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't stand how he could just take her by the wrists and press his lips to them, even nibble at the loose skin, making her succumb to his urges and desires. Nor could she stand how she always melted when his accent grew thicker and his grass-green eyes darkened into a pine green when they stared deeply into hers. Oh, those eyes of his should have been illegal.
No. She couldn't stand him. The problem is, she couldn't stand to be without him either.
"I absolutely hate you.." she breathed as his tongue drifted over her neck and his hands drifted down her back. Another heated argument had led into...this: the blasted Englishman saying something or doing something that made her just want to either strangle him or - well...
She could hear him chuckle in her ear and it sent shivers down her spine.
"I know you do, love.." He murmured. His teeth tugged at her earlobe. It made her grunt and she clutched his shoulders.
"We were supposed to be fighting.." she practically whined.
"I like this better."
She could feel his hands becoming explorative, cupping her curves, making her back slightly arch. She gasped as his grip was slightly rough. Admittedly, she liked this better too. Her hands ran down his back and clutched at his shirt. Her mouth was slightly agape so she could breathe easier.
"You're not mad anymore are you?" He whispered. Their eyes met and she reached over to run her thumb along his lower lip. She then smiled when she saw those eyes of his darken, and she recognized that familiar glint in his eyes.
"I don't think I am anymore," she purred. "Even if you did basically manipulate me.."
"That's what I'm good at, darling," he replied. She could tell he was getting a little impatient as he gripped her hips. It was a good thing she was wearing only a large shirt - his shirt.
"Hnnn.. Arthur..." She whispered his name and her fingers began toying with the button on his trousers. "Getting a little impatient, aren't we?" She smirked at him as his grip tightened. She slipped her hands under the now-unbuttoned trousers.
"Of course," he growled. "You take forever."
They were now pressed closer, their hands becoming bolder, and groping what they wanted. They always liked to tease, both enjoying riling the other one up. He knew how to make her stomach churn and her legs feel like jelly in the most wonderful ways. There were times when she wished he would just take her already and cut the teasing. In retaliation, she made him squirm just as much, which always frustrated him. He would leave a trail of tiny bites down her neck, not caring if they showed the next morning. That was her "punishment" for continuing to make him wait, though he knew she couldn't care less.
By now her shirt had been pulled off as was his. She had been tugging on his pants as well. They were both panting heavily as their skin brushed against each other.
"Tell me you love me, Cher.." she whispered, while sitting in his lap with her arms around his neck and head.
Amidst the kisses and bites against her neck, he pulled back to look into her eyes.
"I love you, Michelle," he replied. Her lips curled up into such a lovely smile that always made his heart feel like it would burst from his chest.
"Do you?" There was a teasing spark in her golden eyes. He frowned. She was still teasing and wouldn't stop until he did something about it. Well, he wouldn't make this easy for her. She made him wait, now he would do the same.
"Oh yes..." He was smiling now. "Shall I show you?"
"You should.." She urged. "I like to be shown things." Her voice was low and seductive.
Before long his fingers slipped under the strap of the bra she still wore, but he would not remove it. He loved to toy with her - loved to hear her whine for him to remove that obstacle, which she was now beginning to do.
"I love your beautiful, smooth skin.." His hand cupped her chest, despite the undergarment, and his fingers stroked the cleavage before his tongue followed.
She whimpered. "A-Arthur..." Her cheeks had turned a lovely shade of red.
He wasn't deterred however. Instead a devilish smile appeared on his face and his hands traveled low again.
"I love your hips too... You've got such lovely hips.." he murmured, slowly tugging the rest of her clothing off.
"C-cher...!" She was the one becoming impatient now. "Ah... you're so cruel..."
His hand caressed those hips in a soothing, circular motion. He continued to speak, his voice now low and husky.
"When you dance and you sway your hips.. when we're like this and you..." He paused and grunted when her hips bucked against his. "When you do that..." He continued, "I sodding love it.."
She had almost torn those pants of his off by now. He was as exposed as she was at this point.
"Arthur.." she panted, "Please.."
She absolutely couldn't stand him. And he would just smile at her and press those lips against hers so that she let out a sigh of relief now that he was giving her what she wanted, needed. She needed him badly. He was an utter nightmare; he was simply amazing. He would do things and move a certain way and just nip her in the right places that made her throw her head back and cry out in ecstasy. She felt like she was floating.
And he would quietly groan in her ear and tell her that she was the only one; that no other woman, mortal or nation had ever satisfied him like this. He called her a siren, a witch, an elven changeling that put him under some spell that he couldn't break, because neither of them could understand why this was just so bloody wonderful. They couldn't figure out why it wasn't France, Portugal, Spain, America - anyone else that sated this clawing hunger.
And then they would finish and he would breathe a devoted "I love you" and she would wrap her arms tightly around him, not wanting him to separate just yet. She would comb her hands through his unruly mass of hair and marvel at how they seemed to fit so well, despite their situation, circumstances or even their skin color.
And she would sigh and tilt his head up to look into those insufferably beautiful green eyes of his - eyes that were still full of love, satisfaction and even a twinge of lust. Then she would press her lips against his and whisper back: "I love you too."
