Everwood // Free Falling (Hannah/Bright, R)
Free Falling.
Everwood.
Bright/Hannah, R, 800 words, written for the porn battle - prompt 'let go'.
Notes: This is more schmoopy than smutty, because it seemed more fitting for Hannah. I mean, this girl keeps a journal of her life.
If there's one thing Hannah's always known for sure, it's that she's not going to be one of those girls who cave in and let the guy do . . . dirty things to them. Even if she didn't want to save herself for marriage -which she does-, even if Bright really deserved it somehow, she wouldn't want to be one of those girls.
She would have to want it.
That's not going too well for her.
Sometimes Bright will make googly eyes at her, and that's easy, because it's so ridiculous that Hannah has to laugh. She suspects he's still trying to make up for what he did to her, except a month ago she told him that she'd forgiven him, which she realized afterwards was completely true; that she wasn't holding it over his head and he should stop making embarrassingly big gestures.
So now his gestures are small. Still embarrassing, but mostly cute, so Hannah lets them go. They don't see each other that often, anyway, and Hannah doesn't want to waste an hour discussing this again.
The eyes and the silliness, she has no trouble with - if she did, she wouldn't be able to stand Bright at all, and she loves him, she really does, and that's the problem.
Sometimes, Bright will suddenly pause when they're making out, look at her, smile seriously, and tell her that she's beautiful. That makes the butterflies in her stomach really happy, because she's not, but if Bright really thinks she is - well, that's more than enough for her.
"You shouldn't tell lies," she says sometimes, with a small smile on her face.
"I hope you're talking to yourself," he replies. "Do you need me to bring out the mirror?"
Sometimes, they'll be listening to music or watching a movie, and Hannah will be lying on the couch with her knees over Bright's lap, and he'll absently brush her calf with his fingers, sometimes making shapes, sometimes randomly, up and down her leg, around her knee. It usually tickles at first, and then it sends a shiver up her spine, makes her body aware.
More often than not, she'll squirm, and Bright will pretend not to notice.
"Man, that guy is so dead," he'll say.
"Definitely," she'll reply with as much enthusiasm as she can muster, even though they both know she got distracted within the first five minutes and has no idea what's going on.
That's the other part. He doesn't try anything. He keeps himself within the lines - he doesn't push her, he asks before he feels her up, he holds her hand.
And she should be okay with that. She should be just fine, but she's not. He holds her hand, wraps it in his own, and she's thinking about what it would be like to be naked in his arms, really - not the shower thing, which they do occasionally, but dry except for their lips, and those other places she doesn't like to think out loud.
She's convinced she can feel her heart beating between her legs.
That's what makes sticking to her beliefs a lot harder. When she wants him, he doesn't scare her away. Instead, he stays there and lets her.
"Bright," she says, while he's kissing her ear.
"What?" He moves to face her. "What?"
She grimaces. "Nothing," she says.
He smiles, confused, and buries his head in the space between her neck and her shoulder.
"Bright," she tries again, a whisper this time, and rather than waiting for him to answer, she drags the hand he's holding hers with down to her belly, and further down, where her jeans are loosened for comfort. "Please?"
So he kisses her while she wriggles under him, his fingers pushing her underwear down and crawling into it with a bit of uneasiness, a bit of comfort, a bit of her hips jerking to welcome them where she's never even touched herself - not this way - not the way he's pushing one finger inside her carefully, like he knows even just that may hurt, or spreading her wetness with his thumb, brushing her clit till she moans, low, almost a sigh.
"Is that all I get?" he murmurs. "A sigh?"
She chuckles, opens her legs a little wider. She thinks of pushing her pants down, but it's - it's not what she wants. She just wants a little more of this, of Bright kissing her all over and touching her breasts over her shirt, first, then under, almost like he wants her to shiver, to feel like her brain is completely numb.
She doesn't see herself marrying this Bright, just like she can't imagine going all the way as this Hannah, but they have time to grow up.
Everwood.
Bright/Hannah, R, 800 words, written for the porn battle - prompt 'let go'.
Notes: This is more schmoopy than smutty, because it seemed more fitting for Hannah. I mean, this girl keeps a journal of her life.
If there's one thing Hannah's always known for sure, it's that she's not going to be one of those girls who cave in and let the guy do . . . dirty things to them. Even if she didn't want to save herself for marriage -which she does-, even if Bright really deserved it somehow, she wouldn't want to be one of those girls.
She would have to want it.
That's not going too well for her.
Sometimes Bright will make googly eyes at her, and that's easy, because it's so ridiculous that Hannah has to laugh. She suspects he's still trying to make up for what he did to her, except a month ago she told him that she'd forgiven him, which she realized afterwards was completely true; that she wasn't holding it over his head and he should stop making embarrassingly big gestures.
So now his gestures are small. Still embarrassing, but mostly cute, so Hannah lets them go. They don't see each other that often, anyway, and Hannah doesn't want to waste an hour discussing this again.
The eyes and the silliness, she has no trouble with - if she did, she wouldn't be able to stand Bright at all, and she loves him, she really does, and that's the problem.
Sometimes, Bright will suddenly pause when they're making out, look at her, smile seriously, and tell her that she's beautiful. That makes the butterflies in her stomach really happy, because she's not, but if Bright really thinks she is - well, that's more than enough for her.
"You shouldn't tell lies," she says sometimes, with a small smile on her face.
"I hope you're talking to yourself," he replies. "Do you need me to bring out the mirror?"
Sometimes, they'll be listening to music or watching a movie, and Hannah will be lying on the couch with her knees over Bright's lap, and he'll absently brush her calf with his fingers, sometimes making shapes, sometimes randomly, up and down her leg, around her knee. It usually tickles at first, and then it sends a shiver up her spine, makes her body aware.
More often than not, she'll squirm, and Bright will pretend not to notice.
"Man, that guy is so dead," he'll say.
"Definitely," she'll reply with as much enthusiasm as she can muster, even though they both know she got distracted within the first five minutes and has no idea what's going on.
That's the other part. He doesn't try anything. He keeps himself within the lines - he doesn't push her, he asks before he feels her up, he holds her hand.
And she should be okay with that. She should be just fine, but she's not. He holds her hand, wraps it in his own, and she's thinking about what it would be like to be naked in his arms, really - not the shower thing, which they do occasionally, but dry except for their lips, and those other places she doesn't like to think out loud.
She's convinced she can feel her heart beating between her legs.
That's what makes sticking to her beliefs a lot harder. When she wants him, he doesn't scare her away. Instead, he stays there and lets her.
"Bright," she says, while he's kissing her ear.
"What?" He moves to face her. "What?"
She grimaces. "Nothing," she says.
He smiles, confused, and buries his head in the space between her neck and her shoulder.
"Bright," she tries again, a whisper this time, and rather than waiting for him to answer, she drags the hand he's holding hers with down to her belly, and further down, where her jeans are loosened for comfort. "Please?"
So he kisses her while she wriggles under him, his fingers pushing her underwear down and crawling into it with a bit of uneasiness, a bit of comfort, a bit of her hips jerking to welcome them where she's never even touched herself - not this way - not the way he's pushing one finger inside her carefully, like he knows even just that may hurt, or spreading her wetness with his thumb, brushing her clit till she moans, low, almost a sigh.
"Is that all I get?" he murmurs. "A sigh?"
She chuckles, opens her legs a little wider. She thinks of pushing her pants down, but it's - it's not what she wants. She just wants a little more of this, of Bright kissing her all over and touching her breasts over her shirt, first, then under, almost like he wants her to shiver, to feel like her brain is completely numb.
She doesn't see herself marrying this Bright, just like she can't imagine going all the way as this Hannah, but they have time to grow up.