Inspired by @madysenpai’s Mel loves dryhumping. She pins Langdon to the couch for hours just grinding against him while they make out.
She doesn’t really know when Frank lying with his head on her chest turned into Frank’s lips peppering kisses onto her neck, but she’s not complaining— not really.
“I thought you wanted to watch this movie,” she says, palming his forehead to push him far enough off of her to see his pinked up cheeks.
A smirk twists itself onto his lips and he’s shaking himself free, quipping “what movie?” His tone so convincing she almost has to double check that they’re not actually watching a tv show as opposed to a two and a half hour feature film.
Instead, she snorts, comfortable in knowing him as she leans her head back into the couch cushion while he pushes up over her. He’s pressing warm kisses to her throat as she moves; her hand finds his hair and rests there as she considers a retort of her own.
“You get on Becca for not letting me watch anything new and then here you are—“ he pulls back, catching against her hand. She gasps, dissent evident in the way she tenses her muscles so that he can’t leave her bubble.
He still looks quite smug, grinning at her from where she’s holding him. “I thought you wanted me to stop.”
“I didn’t say that.” It isn’t lost on her the way he still makes her heart hammer just by looking at her with those beautiful blue eyes. The way she still can’t believe he’s kissing her. On his couch. In his apartment. Where he keeps Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds stashed on top of his fridge because that is Becca’s favorite cereal. Where three weighted blankets live in three different rooms so Mel doesn’t have to carry them around with her.
He cocks his head, raising an eyebrow the way he does when he’s playing dumb. “You didn’t?” She’s let her hand relax enough that when he goes to sit up, it just slides off his shoulder and lands in her own lap.
“No—“ she starts, cut off by his motion, “—where are you going?”
Once, she would have kicked herself for sounding so desperate, but now that she knows how giddy it makes him, she has no reason to feel bad about it.
He grins at her, pure unabashed adoration written right across his face. “Not going anywhere. Just sitting up.” Except after he sits, he stands, and then he’s crawling over top of her so that he’s straddling her lap in a way that’s more gangly and goofy than overtly sexy.
Not that she’s turned off by goofy anyway; She’s reaching for him, grinning, before he can get himself situated, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in so that he has to kiss her and find a seat atop her legs at the same time. “I think we should probably pause it.” She says into his mouth, not doing much more to encourage him to act on that.
He nods into her lips, sliding a hand up either cheek to hold her exactly in place, definitely not moving to act on that.
The next kisses come long and slow. The chatter of the movie drowned out by the way Frank wholly engulfs her, his body on top of hers, his hands on her face. In her hair.
She feels him, the weight of him, the hum that resonates from his chest when she smiles in his hands. She feels his shirt, stiff cotton that’s been washed by somebody that doesn’t care about it even though they spent $60 on it at a concert and wear it every week. She feels his breath, damp and hot when he pauses to pull air from her lungs before kissing it all back into her. She feels his skin, cold on his arms where it’s uncovered and electric under the album cover printed over his chest.
She feels like she’s a part of him, woven into his life like she was always supposed to be here. In her car, she keeps two car seats. In her closet she keeps a brand new hot wheels race track and buckets of crayons Becca bought at a garage sale. Their lives become harder to separate each time a thread is traced from unwoven end to tapestry.
She pulls her hands out from under his shirt, slides them up his arms so she can grab at his hands. His tongue pushes into her mouth and she tastes him, knows the ridges in his mucosa, isn’t bothered, not even distracted by the thought of that. All she’s thinking about is the sudden urge to cling to him. Holding his hands, feeling his lips, it’s not enough. She squeezes him, feels her whole body boiling over with love and excitement.
He pulls back, his breath loud in the space between them. He’s checking on her. She can tell by the way he holds his swollen lips in a well-rehearsed scowl-but-not-scowl.
She’s still holding his hands. Mostly by the wrists because his palms are burning into her cheeks, or maybe her cheeks are burning his palms. “I’m not done.” She says it over his thumb that’s come to run over her lips. Like she’s always been this brave. Like she’s never had a reason to doubt that his response will be “neither am I.”
When he falls back into her, her hands don’t do anything to tether his, so his palms smooth her hair, replace the warmth of her shirt, mold her into a more comfortable position. She melts with him, swelling and compressing into the throw of his hands, the give and take of his lips, until she feels his knees quivering and she’s pushing him to the side so he can lay down and she can sit on top of him.
“Could’ve grabbed the remote on your way.” He nods to the tv, but his hands are on her thighs, fingertips already pushing at the hem of her shirt.
She knows he’s messing with her. Knows because he’s smiling, because his eyes lock back onto hers the second he’s made his joke. “You want me to?” She pulls her weight up, shifting it back into her feet. His hips chase hers, his hands grabbing at her to keep her close. She smirks. It feels good to play along.
He laughs— looks beautifully dismantled. Rosy pink cheeks burning between huge dark pupils and plump red lips. His hair is mussed, having fallen into his face and stuck there with tacks of sweat. She watches his chest rise up and down, reminded of a mouse with respirations up up twelve times that of a human. She presses her palms into it, feels his heart rate channeling that too.
His hands engulf hers, pausing to hold them where they are for just a moment before they claw back up her arms and pull her into him by the nape of her neck.
This kiss is all tongue from then on. Hot and slick with spit as Frank’s hips jump to meet hers each time she pulls up to grind back into him.
He has to grab her ass toward the end of it. Locks her in place so he doesn’t explode in his pants and ruin whatever they’ve got going here.
She doesn’t make it easy for him, rocking subtly back and forth even with his fingers digging into the meat of her thighs. She can’t help it. He’s whining into her mouth so much she might call it harmonizing rather than kissing.
“Stop. Fucking. Moving.” His voice tumbles out of him on rubbery stilts, punctuated by shallow breaths as she sways even now. All there is to do is grin as she stills herself. Only, in that stillness, she’s immediately flooded with butterflies that fill her stomach and demand she kiss him hard before she say anything in response.
“Sorry,” she pants, feeling cold rush between them as he gasps for her air.
His grip lessens a bit. “Don’t be.” She feels how desperate he is in the way his hips rut into her. Not that she’s any less so herself with how damp and clingy her underwear is.
She can’t help but frown at that thought, but he seems to be right there with her because he’s already kissing her, aiming for her lips and mumbling “I didn’t say I was done.”
She grabs his bottom lip with her teeth, holding back the urge to grind right down into him just to abide her own arousal. “Thank god,” she laughs, pushing both hands into the sauna that is his scratchy band t-shirt and allowing herself to be sucked back into the kiss once more.
Tumblr added a bunch of tracking shit to share urls, so now ill teach you how to get rid of them
if you copy a url by sharing on the website, the link will look like this
getting rid of tracking in these is easy, just delete everything after the question mark and you are golden
in the case for the app, its slightly more complicated
first you have to delete at. that appears before tumblr(.)com the other tracking shit on this one has a lot more info, so please, clean app urls. after the first set of numbers, there's a / you have to delete everything after it
some hyper famous artists like Van Gogh transcend overratedness and become underrated because they're so normalized. Like I'll look at a van Gogh and I'm like wait this really is amazing you guys don't get it
one curiousity search on ebay to see if people are still going nuts over beanie babies has led to getting a strong contender for the funniest email ever
Pleased to report that after a day of this i am not longer craving caper brine and my mouth is not dry as usual. There's some good suggestions in the notes too that I want to try.
-ancient roman posca: water, red or white wine vinegar, honey, salt, herbs (coriander, mint, thyme)
-switchel: water, ginger, vinegar, sweetener, lemon, salt
victoria prank calling langdon for a consult and pretending that she did all the wrong things, just really fucked some patient’s shit up and filming his reaction as he tries to gentle parent her while freaking the fuck out
Horse Girl At Heart @zzzugzwanggg - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
