the-darklings:

(m e l t);

“If you want something, you take it.”

Even though Nines had told you that on more than one occasion it seemed like he, himself, did no follow his own advice.

He had made his intentions clear from the start. He was blunt and straightforward with his words because you would not dare to call them feelings. Not yet at least.

“I want you to be mine (Name).”

He had said it calmly, in that cool methodical manner of his, and nothing had been the same since.

Aside from the fact that you couldn’t bear to look him in the face for the last week, there was also the fact that he was not pushing for an answer. Surprisingly, he was giving you more space than you had ever expected him to grant.

You knew Nines—or at least knew him enough to know how he was in these situations—and fully understood that for someone like him there was only success. He was not used to waiting or giving leeway for anyone or anything. He approached all things in life with that terrifying, relentless focus of his.

“Is there something wrong (Name)?”

You jumped, heartbeat spiking as grey eyes idly turned in your direction. Nines looked more relaxed than you were used to seeing him. Sitting in front of the kitchen table with early morning sun filtering in through the open curtains, he made an unusual image. His black turtleneck appeared too dark for such a cheery room, you concluded as you uncrossed your arms, still staring at him, “N-No…there’s nothing wrong,” you told him, a slight catch in your voice.

“Then you better come and eat your breakfast,” he replied evenly, eyes closing as he leaned back, exposing the elegant curve of his neck. From his sharp jaw, to his inviting lips and attractive profile; everything about him took your breath away.

“If you want something, you take it.”

You softly padded towards him, under no illusion that he was somehow unaware of your presence, but rather because he was allowing you this near. A privilege only few were granted.

The wind made the curtains flutter, and silhouettes of pure sunlight danced across his skin.

He was so beautiful.

“What is—”

You fingers were hesitant when you laid them against his cheek and turned his face towards you. You hurriedly leaned down, heart beating widely in your chest as your lips gingerly brushed against his cooler ones. He tensed immediately, his face stiffening as you slowly moved your lips against his. Except he did not respond. He was silent and unmoving beneath you, and you felt horror creep into your veins as you leaned back.

Your lips disconnected, still only millimetres apart, before his arms snapped around your waist, pulling you abruptly to him. Stumbling, you practically fell on top of him, arms flailing as Nines own arms wrapped around you securely, tugging you closer and onto his lap as your thighs wrapped around him, his lips stealing your breath away as he kissed you hungrily.

A small gasp escaped you and he forced your head to the side, gaining a better angle as his tongue slid in between your parted lips. A shiver of pure delight racked your body as you moaned weakly against him, his fingers running up your thigh as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He was greedy, ravenous, and entirely too selfish in his affection but he held you delicately, made you practically melt in his embrace as he folded you carefully to him. His hand pressed against your lower back, pushing your bodies even closer together and you gasped, pulling back as an involuntary moan escaped your swollen mouth.

His eyes were molten silver as he stared at you raptly, and the intensity of his hungry stare made heat crawl up your neck as you hurriedly looked away, covering your face with your hands.

“What’s the matter?” his voice was a low whisper and you shuddered as he rubbed a lazy circle against your spine. “Are you embarrassed by your own desire (Name)?”

“S-Shut up,” you meekly called out, trying to pull away but his hand on your lower back remained, holding you shackled on his lap. “I-I never should have—”

Cold fingers brushed against your chin and he grasped it firmly between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face towards him, forcing you to meet his stare as your eyes skittered away in embarrassment.

“Kiss me again,” was his firm order.

“Why?” you squealed, eyes wide as they met his briefly.

He didn’t answer you, his arm simply squeezing you harder against him as you squirmed at the feeling of every hard edge of him pressing against your softer curves.

You couldn’t quite meet his gaze so instead you focused on the tip of his nose, and the subtle twist of his lips.   

Leaning closer, you felt his fingers leave your chin as you quivering lips brushed against his briefly. His fingers grasped the back of your head; lips hard and merciless but so delightfully slow, exploring, tasting you as his tongue brushed against yours again.

After another moment you pulled back, huffing for breath as you tried to calm the hammering of your heart and the pleasant, satisfied buzz of heat in your veins.

“Better,” he purred lazily, palm tracing up your spine, mouth twitching at the way you arched into his touch. “I’ve been waiting for a taste of you. Never be shy about something you desire. I rather enjoy you being selfish. Happily flushed just for me…I quite like this look on you (Name).”

A rasp of pure embarrassment slipped out, and you buried your burning face against the crook of his neck.

“So unfair,” you huffed quietly, “You always win. And it was…nice…”

His entire body locked suddenly, arms firm around you, “And if you keep whispering, and making those delightful noises against my neck, we’ll be doing a lot more than kissing.”

A cough got stuck in your windpipe as you swiftly moved your head down, pressing your cheek against his collarbone.

“N-No!”

The weight of his pointed chin rested on top of your head as he pressed you against his chest. A cold, hollow shelter that you have made your own. And one he allowed you to share with him.

“My little teacup.”

You closed your eyes, and sighed in content as your lips tingled.