rcleplayermuses:
If you had said to Ava a few months ago that she would be laying in her bed, Jason Cash wrapped around her petite frame as he slept soundly, her fingertips tracing every inch of his frame that she had visibility of — well she’d tell you to fuck off and that you were delusional. And alas, here she was. Entangled in a man with whom she had once claimed to hate with every fibre of her being. A man who brought out such hostility and ferociousness in her, and yet caused goosebumps to surface along her skin as he gently lay his hands over her, and caused her to feel more alive than perhaps any man she had spent the night with. In fact, there was no ‘perhaps’ about it.
He was beautiful. She couldn’t deny him that, and there was a terrified part of the blonde that feared there was more to this than sex. That, there was this person who understood her, and yet did not ask her to alter or change herself in any way shape or form. And yet, infuriated her and caused her mercury to boil. “Mornin’.” The blonde exhaled, immediately removing her fingertips from his soft and warm coating, not allowing him to see such a side of her, though completely unaware that he already had. That being said, it didn’t take Jason long to shift their position, allowing him to wrap his arms around her, pulling her tight into his chest as his lips took her for his own in a familiar and yet completely new sensation. One hand snaked around to hold his neck, her thumb firmly planted against his cheek bone as she unwillingly stroked against him, lips softly pressing themselves against his own, the smell of him lingering in her embrace as her eyes closed for a brief pause.
Alas, when did ever moments last with the pair? Before long, his ego was in full swing, ‘causing Ava to recoil and roll her eyes before sighing deeply at the self-obsessed asshole before her. “Just shut the fuck up for once, Cash.” She insisted, before realising exactly where she had brought him — how drunk was she last night? That she had completely forgone her usual warnings and rules, and brought him back to her personal sanctuary. To her brother possibly in the other room. “You need to leave. Now.” Her worlds were colliding, and if she had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t be for long, and it sure as well wouldn’t be today. @ofnikkcs
Far and few between were the times in Jason’s life where sex meant more than two strangers –– sometimes three, even four –– in a sinful tangle of lusting limbs and liquored breath, any notes of intimacy blocked by Jason Cash being... Well, Jason Cash. Rare occurrences where there was more to it, to him, never lasted; only ripped to shreds by the wolf and his cruelty, muddled and crushed under the weight of countless encounters of empty sex and exercised virile. But he couldn’t shake Ava. Since that first night on his desk, hunger and lust and build reaching its peak, he knew then in his bones that it was more than fucking, more than sex, and god, had he craved for more since. It wasn’t the promise of sex that he hungered for the most, shockingly, considering it was Ava ‘Fuck Me Eyes’ Wright, the hardest conquest of them all, but the nights and mornings afterwards, like these–– just the two of them, slow hands and bedroom eyes drinking in the map of the other, as if they had roped the world down just to lay beside them. The flaxen-hued wolf was terrified of what the blonde vixen was doing to him, softening edges from iron to silk. Only suckers let a woman control them, he reminded himself, as he melted into her touch.
At her emulated greeting, a whispered ‘Mornin’,’ back to him in that sensual burn of a voice he liked so much, a slow cheshire grin blossomed across his features, eyelids shifting over ceruleans in a languid blink in his relish of her hands roaming his skin, “Mornin’?” He echoed her, “You’re even startin’ to sound like me now, Goldie,” Jason mused, large arms tightly wound around her heavenly body, and with slow heed, he shifted from his side to lying on his back, Ava still wrapped in him, lain flat against his chest, “Southern drawl is damn sexy on you. I’ll have take you down to Georgia, keep you there until it sticks,” It was pillow talk. Half-awake speak. He’d surely hate himself for it in an hour; not asking her to come with him to the state that birthed him, all its baggage and intimacy, but the fact that it felt earnest leaving his lips.
Her sniped words, still tenderized in their morning tangle, had his chest rumbling beneath her full breasts, a smirk to covet his grin, “... How ‘bout I shut both of us the fuck up––” And as his lips, his teeth, were about to do just that in a forward lean to capture her own, he was left chasing them as the air in the room shifted from intimacy to panic. The air in her room. “The fuck?” Jason asked, annoyance in his voice and confusion in his features at the shift in her that was fast enough to give him whiplash. A second later, and he was grinning again, deciding not to take it seriously when the desire of his hips between her thighs started to make him hard, “Nah,” His lips attempted to snare hers again, “You don’t mean that–”