Catfish and the Bottlemen AU fanfiction.
"Well... I couldn't just leave it ignored. You'd need to be punished of course."
His words light a fire between your legs as a dark part of you stirs and comes to life. Your pulse races and your breathing dee...
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You don't breathe a word as Van carries you up the stairs. You just let him, fingers tangling in his hair where it curls at his shirt collar, your coy gaze meeting his from under your lashes as you look up at him, feeling more shy and uncertain than you've ever felt around him before.
"Don't think I've ever seen you this quiet," he muses, the smile he's wearing stirring warmth inside you. It's a different kind of heat to normal. It pools in your belly and your chest like the sweetest ache and you try to concentrate on that rather than the way that your mind is taunting you, your rarely-seen cautious side surfacing and filling you with doubts.
Is he taking you to THEIR bed? The one he lies on every night with Kathleen? What if she comes home early? What if the trip's been cut short for some reason? What will you do if she walks in and discovers you here?
Maybe you should go. Make an excuse and call a cab and leave before something bad happens. You know you should do it. But you don't.
"I am kinda nervous," you admit, glancing around to see that you've reached the first floor landing. "It just seems strange being here with you... in your house. I really shouldn't be here. What if Kath..."
The look in Van's eyes cuts your words dead. It's quite obvious that particular topic of discussion is off the table and as wary and anxious as you feel you swallow it all back down with frustrated obedience. No matter how deep your worries and your doubts run your desire to please Van runs deeper.
"Don't talk like that, I want you here and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. It's just you and me, okay? You don't have to think about anything else just for one night."
That's easy for him to say. As you enter a room off the hallway you can't help but glance around, curious eyes flicking over the decor and the furnishings, searching for any sign of her. You quickly scour the dressing table and the bedside cabinets, the wardrobe with one door slightly ajar. There's no obviously feminine touch that you can see, no accessories, no framed photos, no cosmetics or items of clothing that don't appear to be his. If you didn't know any better you'd think he lived alone from what you've seen so far but you suppose you've only seen a limited part of the large house.
He steps over to the bed and stoops to lay you down on the soft sheets. Fuck... that feels good. You hadn't realised quite how exhausted you were. When he said he was going to wreck you he wasn't kidding. Everything burns, your muscles tight and sore, the stinging throb between your legs insistent as you curve your body inwards, feeling vulnerable as he hovers over you.
"That was really something huh?" He smirks down on you, eyes lingering over your curves, a hand reaching up to gently brush your hair back from your face. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck!" You can't help but grin and he laughs. "But in a totally good way," you add quickly. "I'm certainly not complaining about it. I loved it. I loved every minute of it."
