Motough Prompts

Consequential Seduction

Author's Note: I think the title is self-explanatory with regards to the prompt. :) I hope you like it! :) Send in prompts if you like! (if you do, though there's one catch: please vote for and follow this story! (Well me lol)) Oh, for the sake of the story, Bethany and Derek won DWTS :)
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His voice was breaking, cracking with the pressure of her hands on his tie, tugging, tugging, tugging...and it's off.

"Beth-Bet-Bethany..."

She smiled, teeth white, and he couldn't stop himself from groaning as that pink tongue caressed them, as he began to imagine it mingling with his own, lips to lips.

"Der, we have ten minutes, let's go. No messing around."

"I'm messing around? Babe, we don't - we don't -"

He sighed, wishing more than anything that she'd stop biting that damn lip,
wrap a fucking towel around her body, and shield those glorious curves from his vulturous, male, eyes.

"I promised you. If we won...this is what I promised you."

"Bethany, I mean it - "

His breath hitched as she took one bra strap, sliding it down her arm in one slow, seductive, movement.

"I want to. I love you. I do."

Derek pushed his hair back, and as it fell softly atop his forehead once again, the gel no longer holding it in place, he stepped towards her.

"Oh my god, Derek, babe!"

With one swoop, scaring Bethany half to death, he scooped her up, carefully laying her against the dressing room door.

"Sh...You're going to get us in trouble!" Derek hissed, raking a hand, somewhat aggressively, through her hair.

She watched as his muscles flexed while holding up her weight, playing coy. "For what?"

"Oh, Bethers, don't make me say it."

She smirked as he littered open-mouth, breathy, kisses along her collarbone.

"Say it. Say it for me."

Derek chuckled, kissing the shell of her left ear and loosening his grip on her body so she slid down, then hiked her back up to provide friction. When she moaned, her sweet-like-candy breath licking his face, he said it.

"We'll get in trouble for having sex in the studio."

"And I," Bethany murmured, sighs falling from her parted lips in a blissful rhythm as he sucked softly on her neck.

"Don't give a damn."
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Those hot tears dripped delicately down her cheeks, like the rain that fell outside, and scolded her skin; this was happening, and, to her, there was no going back.

She sat curled up on the couch, tightly clutching, in her hand, a positive pregnancy test. "This just can't be true. I'm not - Derek isn't - oh no - Derek."
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Those clouds, white and deceivingly fluffy, floated high above the dancing trees - with harsh winds propelling their motions, as branches bowed and extended their fingers to one another.

He stared out the window, thinking, not of the tour, and the forthcoming show - the seventh - but of her; she who was probably out drinking girly cocktails with her friends, or walking on the beach and kicking up sand. Living life. Without him.

The thought made him happy, though sick to his stomach; he missed her like crazy, so much that it hurt.
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The numbers were there, brightly staring her in the face, and as her grip on the phone tightened, she pressed the speaker button and dialed; it wasn't a rash decision but rather the opposite: she just didn't know who else to call.

She couldn't call her parents, not her friends, or anyone, really, with moral standards but she had to call someone.

It rang, and rang, and rang again.

There was no pattern to it, the pauses and chimes, and that's what made her crazy: the waiting, the holding of breath.

"Hello?"

"Julianne? It's - it's - me - uh - it's Bethany."
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All around were the stage hands setting up, dancers rehearsing, the general public milling about outside the theatre as they anxiously awaited entrance, and he.

Derek didn't know what to do with himself; he was restless, he was fidgety, he was completely on edge and absolutely hated it.

He was currently pacing back and forth, narrowly bypassing the crew who was carrying in a large prop. His phone was clenched in his fist, and, once again, he adjusted the volume - wanting so badly to blame the ringer for having missed her call, instead of blaming himself for her lack of communication. She usually called before every show, if only so she could wish him luck, if only so she could hear his voice.

But not tonight.
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"You have to tell him honey."

She just nodded with what little strength she had left after her bout of crying. Those shameful, guilty, tears - a few were still falling - tasted salty and warm across her face.

"He won't want her."

"Her?" Julianne inquired, rubbing Bethany's back in slow, soothing circles.

"I'm just guessing."

Julianne sighed, "oh baby, give him a call. I'm sure he won't love you any less, and he'll love the baby even more. If that's even possible," she giggled, "he talks about you all the time, Beth."

She sniffled, wiping away the last of those tears with her sleeve. "Really?"

Her voice sounded sickly with dryness and the effort it took to breathe, but she smiled. "Okay."
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"Bethers? Is that you?"

There was a lengthy pause, one entirely too long for his liking. "Beth?"

Silence. "Bethany...talk to me babe. Please."

Another voice could be heard, whisperingly urgent, yet soft. "He's waiting Bethany. There is no backing out now."

"Jules?" Derek asked, confused, and becoming slightly worried, if he wasn't before. "Babe. What is my sister talking about?"

"I-uh-um...it's..."

"Bethers...babe...you can tell me anything, you know that. Don't be afraid. Please, my sweet baby, don't be afraid."

Derek heard a giant breath being taken on the other line. Then words, so shaky, so small, and barely heard, were said: "I'm pregnant."