A happy Belated birthday gift to Maia aka @oh-my-fancan. Based off the awesome murder in the first/kill your darlings drarry mashups done by @drarrymore. Maia, hope you like your gift:
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12018068/1/Sweet-Surrender
You could leave. There’s nothing stopping you.
Feet of distance is laid out between us, practically an ocean with you still against the wall and him in front of the bed. The door is right by your left, inches away. You’d sooner reach it and escape from room before he caught up with you.
So why aren’t you moving?
You find the answer in his eyes, those stony-gray eyes that capture you, taking away your ability to move, speak, even think properly. Their gaze is more powerful any spell or hex, even stronger than your will. Too hard to pull away, too easy to fall under.
His thin, pink lips lift into a cunning smirk, a sight that before infuriated you, filling your body with the great urge to knock it off with your fist but now…a shiver goes through you, creeping up like cool fingers brushing against your skin.
You’re frozen. He’s smirking.
“Take off your clothes.”
No, remaining rationality screams. It pleas with you to listen, screaming that this could be a trap. Your body does the exact opposite. Fingers flew to buttons, unclasping each one by one, then move to the trousers.
The soft thump of your clothes falling to the ground are the only sounds that fill the room.
Stony-gray eyes examine, starting from head to toe, sparing not an inch. You can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind as he looks at you. Pale skin that was only a few shades tanner than his, a frame that is still too skinny for your taste, the black locks of hair covering your chest and lower stomach. Breathing hitches as his eyes focus on your chest, zeroing in on the pink nipples that practically come to life, trembling, hardening underneath that heated, heavy gaze.
You bite your bottom lip hard to keep in the moan that’s trying to escape from your mouth. Your task becomes difficult- unbearably difficult as a pink tongue darts from his mouth, licking his lower lip in approval, gray eyes roaring in hunger.
Is this what Little Red felt like when she looked into the eyes of the big, bad wolf?
“Those too.”
He points at your boxers, the only scrap of clothing left that keeps you from complete nudity. Your fingers aren’t as quick to remove them as they were before. Realization hits you. If they’re gone, there’s nothing left. No going back.