usfw prompts , less cringy edition ; still accepting if u wanna tango.
@sickfcks said : [ EYES ] sender makes receiver look them in the eyes, for jay & lottie.
she feels his hand first, rough pads of his fingertips against the petal soft skin of her jaw – curling around the bone, directing her chin from tucking away into his chest the way she had been. feels the gentle insistence of his action before the low rumble of his voice soothes through her ears, accent almost heavier on his words now that they're alone, now that she's beneath him. even through the pounding of her heart in her ears, she could hear the request – no longer asking, dictating that she look at him.
it was easier said than done, as if it weren't hard enough to merely keep her eyes open – to keep them from rolling back in her head each time he lingers closer to giving them both what they want. but so far he'd only teased, so far . . . jay had set his terms.
wide ocean blue eyes finally land on his face, pulled up from the depths as her hands press manicured nails into his forearms. “better?” she drawls, all honey as her teeth graze against her bottom lip, forcing herself to keep looking at him.
a halfway plotted starter for @sickfcks
it isn't her scene – after work parties had always felt like showing up for a group project she'd not really contributed to; but there'd been an insistence she come tonight, pleading faces of a few of the girls that she couldn't quite say no to. so lottie had come, changed out of her scrubs and into the comfort of an old pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and settled herself against a wall – a pretty little wallflower, doing her best to stave off any further interest in herself with her silence.
she'd perfected the idea of it – that she was pretty but uninteresting, little more than the hired nurse their boss kept around to make sure they weren't harming themselves more than they should have been. easier to not explain that she'd gotten the job in the first place due to a familial connection that'd stemmed back a few decades, that nepotism was alive and well – even if she was good at her job. it kept things calm, ensured her peace; ensured she didn't ever wake up to a litany of messages from her parents telling her she'd further embarrassed their good name.
but she could only pretend to be sipping on the beer that'd been given to her for so long – before thirst actually kicked in, and she found herself lingering away from her post and closer to the drinks table. fingers wrapping around a bottle of cooled water at the same time a much larger hand sought to seek its claim upon the same bottle, delicate fingertips grazing against unknown hand in a soft movement before her wrist retracts and large blue eyes are raising to find the man attached to it.
“ sorry, go ahead. ” spoken with a smile, expecting to see someone she knows – expecting for it to be anyone she's moderately more familiar with than the reality. “ . . . jay, right? ” a hastily given introduction earlier on in the night, but lottie was certain that'd been the name he'd offered.
❛ Is that what I should do? Let you go? ❜ pick your poison :>
interview with the vampire (1994) sentence starters.
she had not ever been the type of woman to think she had a right to say what he should – or shouldn't do. it was easy enough to offer her professional opinion, to say that she didn't recommend the way he so often put himself into the bloody maw of danger, that she did not, and would not, ever recommend stabbing a fork into someone else's forehead, or his own. but this was something else entirely, not a professional matter – not a question of whether or not it was safe, not a sweetly spoken reminder to take caution with where he chose to bleed from.
her back pressed to the wall of her assigned medical room for the night, his hand wrapped around the delicate flesh of her wrists, holding them aloft, the stale scent of cigarettes and his cologne wafting into her nose. if lottie had heard his question, she'd not yet graced him with a response, too concerned with the way this looked, how miniscule she felt with him looming above her.
it was hardly the first time he'd had her like this – but she'd tried to ensure it was the last, had spoken gentle words of insistence, that it wasn't right. that men like him were not made for women like her. his existence alone in her personal space would've set her father raging had he known, would have ensured lottie never know the peace and quiet she'd sought out from underneath his thumb. she was trying to save them both the trouble – to make it easier in the end, when mox undoubtedly decided to tire of gentle hands and honey sweet lips.
“yes.” she manages finally, swallowing thick as her gaze drifts to his. “it's – better for the both of us if you do, isn't it?”