Sweet Pea Imagines

Seven | Sleeping Beauty

"Mama, who's the pretty lady?" A voice, one that seems to think it's whispering but in reality it's just as stuttered and squeaky as always, speaks into the darkness behind your eyelids.

"Shhhhh, baby," another voice, a softer voice, quiets the first voice, "this princess needs all the sleep she can get. She's battled a lot of dragons."

The fog of drowsiness clears long enough for you to feel two gentle hands pull the blanket that's settled over you waist onto you arms and a kiss to be placed on your hairline. The homey scent of apple pie surrounds you as you fall back into the inky confines of your mind. For the first time in a long time you aren't scared to sleep with both eyes closed.

* * * * * * * * * *

The blankets shift, the cool air pooling onto your back where your striped t-shirt must have ridden up. There's a pulsing pain in your abdomen but it's nowhere near as strong as it had been. It's dulled thanks to the pleasant warmth that is emitted from the incredibly soft bed beneath your curled form. It rises and falls with in accordance to your breaths and molds into your figure. Your fingers brush over the soft fabric and run over the many dips and bumps underneath you. The most peculiar thing happens in doing so; the mattress groans.

And then it speaks, "Baby girl it's too early for this, you need to rest."

It takes a minute for the realization to dawn but the moment it does you spring upward, a rosy blush coloring your cheeks. His room is dark and your eyes are clouded with exhaustion but you don't need to see in order to comprehend the position you're currently in; straddled over Pea with his hands hanging loosely on your hips. You shift slightly, attempting to move to a less intimate position, but in doing so you only involuntarily add more pressure your original position.

Another breathy groan escapes from Sweet Pea's lips and his hands tighten on your hips. The small noise sends heat to the pit of your stomach, cliché sparks light up wherever his hands touch. You feel an unfamiliar bulge from under where you're currently sitting and your cheeks darken.

You aren't exactly used to causing a reaction that isn't volitile in nature. Everything that's happening- or, well, happened -between you and Sweet Pea is extremely new to you. You've never really had the time to be a normal, teenage girl. You didn't go shopping with your best friends nor sleepover at their houses on the weekend, you didn't have the time to think about boys, nevermind do anything with one. You've always had bigger things on your mind. Yes, bigger but nowhere near better.

"Pea, I- sorry I didn't-," you begin to speak but before more words can spill out his chest is pressed against yours and his lips capture the rest of your jumbled sentence.

Sweet Pea's lips are chapped and warm against yours, stealing breath after breath from your tired lungs. His teeth bite at your bottom lip, gently tugging at it and pulling sighs from your mouth. One of his hands is pressed tightly against your lower back and the other one is curled around the back of your neck, holding you impossibly close to him. Your legs are secured around his waist, your fingers searching through his hair and tugging at the strands. You haven't kissed him in weeks, and maybe you shouldn't be kissing him now, but you can't bring yourself to let go of him. You're desperate for the sense of belonging that only he seems to give you.

You rock your hips slightly, pressing yourself against him in a delicious way.

"Baby what is happening," he lips trace down your neck, "why do you keep pushing me away?"

His hand slides slowly down your spine, lightly massaging the kinks out with tantalizing movements. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach and you have to bite your lip to hold back the moan that both his lips and his fingers pull from you. It doesn't last long though; his words snap you out of your delirious daze. You push up from his
chest and shuffle to the end of the bed, pressing yourself against the wall and drawing your knees to you chest.

"Oh my I shouldn't have done that, I- Sweet Pea we can't do this. We-"

Again you're cut off by his lips melting against yours, "we can't do what, baby? Tell me you don't want me to kiss you and I'll stop."

Oh but you want him to kiss you, he just shouldn't. It's selfish to put him in danger just because you don't want to keep tasting the apples on his lips and breathing his leather and pine scent.

His lips meet your neck suddenly and you let out a throaty moan, "tell me you don't want me to keep going, that we don't fit together perfectly."

The heat is building steadily, accompanied by a growing throbbing that has you wanting so much more of him than has been given to you. You feel greedy and reckless but oh so stupidly in love. Yes, you're in love with Sweet Pea but you know that, don't you? Doesn't the princess always fall in love with her hero? Even if that hero has a few tattoos and a leather jacket with snake sewn on it?

Sweet Pea flips you under him, settling between your legs and balancing himself with his arms on either side of your head. Your hands grip the black material of his t-shirt, looking into his molten, chocolate eyes. They're desperate, wild as he bites his lip and stares down at you.

He uses one of his arms to pull your leg up around him, then the other, until both are secured around his waist, "tell me this isn't exactly where I'm supposed to be and I swear I will let you go if that is what you want but until I hear those words I am not. I can't."

He leans in as he speaks and your heart races, his lips mere millimetres from your own.

"Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?" You don't expect the words to tumble out of your lips, in fact you hadn't even been thinking them, but you can't help but agree with them a little bit.

He pauses, his one hand running absentmindedly to your hip, while he gives you, what is perhaps, the most offended look you have ever seen. His eyebrows furrow and his eyes shift between hurt and confused, leaving you with a growing, aching hole in your chest. You let your head fall back as you release the material from your grip, closing your eyes and regretting your accidental statement. You hold back the tears that threaten to make an appearance but you can't stop your shoulders from shaking slightly. This is usually when the guy leaves the girl; when she doesn't trust him like she should.

Except he doesn't leave. No, your eyes pop open in surprise when he pins your arms above your head and rolls his hips into your own, sending shockwaves racing up your spine. Nothing has ever felt like that and you can't stop yourself from squeezing your thighs tighter around his waist and moaning his name loudly. Your eyes fall shut when he does it again, pulling his name from your lips again, only quieter this time, when his own lips attach themselves to the base of your neck.

"Baby girl, I am doing this because I need you like air and," he pushes against you again, pulling your hips flush against his with his free hand, "it seems like you need me too. And, god, if you let me I can do something about this. And this."

He lets go of your hands and you immediately lace them through his raven locks, hungrily pulling his lips to your own, "please just be okay, please don't get hurt Pea. You have to be okay."

"Deal. Now let's take care of this why don't we?"