seveninchmotto | The Apartment, New York, Friday

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The Apartment, New York, Friday

It was about time for Flick to return to Idris.

In fact, he was expected at a portal at the Institute in a matter of a couple of hours. Isabelle wasn't feeling very pleased with it, no matter how proud she was of everything he was doing at the Academy. She'd gotten all too used to him being at home over the break. Their bed was going to feel lonely and empty once he was gone again.

But it was morning, and she was out of bed all the same. Padding barefoot around the kitchen in a silk robe, she was making breakfast. Coffee, eggs and bacon, some pancakes with an interesting take on seasoning them. Flick was about to go back to Academy food, and Isabelle would be damned if she let him go without one last proper breakfast at home.

[ooc: NFB, for the guuuuy.]

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Isabelle pouted only because he was still touching her lip, and that was fun.

"But I don't know the Academy the way you do."

He didn't move his finger from her lip. He liked the way it felt and he liked how it moved when her mouth did.

"That sounds like something you'll have to figure out," he said, smiling warmly at her. "If anyone can do it, Isabelle Lightwood can."

"Don't try to appeal to my ego," Isabelle chided, lightly. "But maybe I will."

She would. Of course she would.

"Anyway," she continued, tongue flicking out ever so briefly, "I came up with something just now, didn't I?"

"Mmm, yes you did," he said, giving her lip one last nudge with his finger before pulling it away and moving to get off the couch. "And it's an idea I fully intend to take advantage of."

"Don't just stop at the idea," Isabelle teased as she also went to get back to her feet. In all her naked glory. "You should take advantage of me, as well."

"Oh, that was the plan," he said, stepping closer so he could smack her ass unashamedly. "I will take full advantage of you and your body, beautiful."

"Ooh." Isabelle gave a little squirm and smirked at him, pleased. "Promises, promises, baby."

"I am very good at keeping my promises," he said, giving her ass another lighter smack before he turned her in the direction of their room. "Let's go."

Isabelle had zero problem with sauntering on into their bedroom ahead of him. No problem at all. Besides, she had to go by her nightstand, anyway, to get the key with the heart-shaped handle.

"Good. I expect to remember this."

"Do you ever forget our sexual experiences?" Flick asked her, mildly concerned. "I'll be sad if you do."

"Okay, I expect to remember it extra well, then," Isabelle amended without missing a beat, waving the key at him. "Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?"

Flick reached over and gently took the key which he hoped answered her question.

"Me," he said and twirled the key between his fingers. "You just stand there and be naked."

Isabelle snickered. "Oh, I can do that," she replied, tossing her hair over one shoulder and idly posing a little. "Naked and pretty."

"It's one of your many talents," Flick said, sliding the key into the lock and turning it. He gave the knob a twist and the door came open easily.

"Aaaaaah," he said, sighing. "I think that's the first time I've opened this closet."

"Could be," Isabelle agreed, peering past him at their dirty treasure trove. She wasn't a very neat person otherwise, but here? Everything was on display in an organized fashion. From the lubes and cuffs to the spanking paddles and blindfolds and a whole array of vibrators.

It was a whole lot of stuff.

"But I'm sure it won't be the last."

"You have been very busy," Flick said, stepping closer and letting his fingers tough several of the items within the closet. "Your bill at various sex shops must be immense."

"I have good priorities on where I spend my money." Also sometimes it was late at night and online shopping and a butt plug with a jewel on the base was just too cute to pass up. "I consider it an investment for the future."

"All right, so full disclosure," Flick said, glancing back at her. "I've never used a spreader bar before with a girl. You'll have to help me get this thing on you correctly."

Isabelle chuckled and stepped forward and closer to him, until she could press against his back. She gave the back of his neck a quick kiss before sticking her arms out from underneath his, so she could reach out and pick up the bar in question.

"It's really simple," she said, holding it out in front of them. "The cuffs at the ends go around my ankles – and I know you're already a master at cuffing me." He'd had practice! "And voila, the firm metal bar means that mean gossipers are finally right: Izzy Lightwood really can't get her legs closed."

"Wait, people actually said that about you?" Flick asked, turning to look at her. "And you let them?"

"I assume some have said that," she replied, shrugging. "Not to my face, though. No one's that stupid."

"I never said it," he told her, leaning his head back to try and catch a kiss. "Not even when we weren't together."

She let him have a kiss. In fact, she let him have two. "I wouldn't assume anyone I've actually slept with would've said something like that. Please, everyone who's actually been between these legs knows what a privilege it is."

"I've been between them the most, right?" Flick asked, grinning. "I'm top of the heap?"

Isabelle nodded, and kissed his cheek. "Top of the heap." She gave his ear a little nip. "Now and forever. So you better keep things interesting."

Said the woman basically hugging him with a spreader bar.

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