#been touching my smoothness and reveling in not feeling stubble when i look down or tuck under covers

[cowdragons]

aaa i got my facial hair lazer'd today and it was also the first time in a long time that i've smiled at myself in a mirror

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 29

Words: 2.5k

Hope this isn’t too much of a boring chapter, some big revelations coming up in the next part… and I think it’s about time Van and Lyla got it on properly 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

My blood ran cold at the sight of the man who stood before me in my hotel room. He had chiselled, angular features and a jutting brow that gave his eyes a sunken look, but even so, they glittered with a wild kind of insanity that told me that this confrontation could end very badly for me if I let my guard down even for a second.

"What do you want?" I said, my eyes darting to the bag on the bed where my handgun was, trying to calculate whether I could make a lunge for it before he could plunge the deadly looking six inch blade that he was brandishing into me.

"I think you know the answer to that darlin'," he sneered. "You see you've been causing a lot of problems. Sticking that nose of yours where it's not wanted. You and that fucking McCann..."

Van's name was expelled from his lips like he was spitting out a poison and he lurched forwards, jabbing the knife into the air between us, letting out a brittle laugh when I whimpered and stumbled backwards.

Get a fucking grip Lyla, this guy looks wired. You can take him out easily. Just keep your cool.

"Who sent you?" I said, keeping my voice low to hide the tremor. My heartbeat thumped against my chest with such vigour that it made me feel breathless.

The man just laughed, spittle flying from his mouth, a thick rope of it hanging from his stubbled chin. "You ask too many questions. I'm the one asking the questions... Now I wanna know everything. Starting with where McCann's hiding out."

I inched towards the bed, keeping my eyes on my assailant, hoping he wouldn't notice my slight movement. I was so close...

"I don't know where he is. Why would I? I've been searching for him too."

Another throaty laugh burst from the man, and this time he actually threw his head back in amusement. I saw my chance and seized it, darting forward as fast as I could, hand outstretched towards the open bag, delving inside and rummaging for the feel of the cool metal.

My fingertips nudged the grip of the gun, but before they could close around it the man was upon me, flinging his body on to mine with such force that I sprawled on to my back on the bed. He wasn't huge but nevertheless his body weight pinned me down, one of his hands latching firmly around my neck whilst the other waved the knife perilously close to my face.

"Don't think they don't know what you and McCann are up to," he jeered at me, bringing the tip of his blade to only an inch from my eye. "I wonder if he'll still want you when I've carved up this pretty little face of yours, eh?"

The adrenaline was rushing through my veins now like liquid fire, igniting my muscles into action. I writhed beneath the man, trying to get leverage, my right hand flailing at the bedside cabinet, searching for something I might use as a weapon. My fingers touched something hard and smooth and I grasped at it, realising as my grip curled around the cylindrical object that I was holding the bedside lamp.

The man was distracted completely by his own perceived power over me, taunting me further with his sick threats. He was completely oblivious to the fact that I now had the lamp firmly in my grasp, the heavy, ceramic base ready to strike at his skull.

With a swift motion I pistoned my arm upwards, slamming the base of the lamp at the man's temple as hard as I could, letting out a deep grunt of satisfaction as it exploded in a hail of fragments. The shocked looked on his face was immediately replaced with a slack-jawed expression which told me that he'd been stunned, even if only temporarily. I had to move quick.

I pushed his limp body quickly to the side and slid out from under him, rolling him over on to his front and kicking the knife away. Then I straddled his upper body, wrapping the wire from the lamp around his throat and pulling on it with all of my might. The feel of the cord pressing tight around my attacker's neck was enough to bring him around from his concussed stupor, and he immediately shot up both hands to prise at the wire which was dangerously close to cutting off his air supply.

I dug my knees harder into his waist as his body bucked, a strangled cry coming from him which turned raspier the harder I pulled. He flailed and writhed, fingers desperately clawing at the ligature but not being able to get purchase underneath it. I just held on with all of my strength, riding his body like some violent bucking bronco as he crashed from the bed and on to the floor to lie face down. One of his fists shot back up behind him to connect hard with my cheekbone, snapping my head back with force. The impact sent my vision blurry for a moment but I blinked hard and shook my head to clear it. I couldn't falter now, not for a second.

The harder I pulled the harder he struggled but I clung on nevertheless, eyes brimming with tears from my endeavours to incapacitate him. And eventually those efforts paid off, his groans got weaker and his body thrashed with less and less energy until he slumped, letting out a ghastly croak, finally going slack.

I collapsed to my knees beside him, spent, dragging laboured breaths through my lungs which burnt with the fire of my exertions. The man wasn't dead, I'd made sure of that, but he was immobilised for now. I just had to secure him before he came round enough to be a threat to me once more.

There was no avoiding calling the agency now. Thanks to them pulling my back-up I'd been placed in near fatal danger, but I'd prevailed and soon enough they'd have a living, breathing detainee to question and probe. I was certain that this man wouldn't be trusted with information on any of the top tiers of the organisation but I might still be able to glean some valuable intelligence. At the very least this could be a way to ingratiate myself to the agency once more, and particularly to Charles Whitman.

I scrabbled up quickly, rummaging through my bag for something to bind my attacker's wrists, locating the tie from my robe and pulling it free from the garment. Then I crossed to the prone figure on the floor, dropping to my knees and pulling the man's arms roughly behind his back. He groaned and twitched but provided little resistance. I couldn't help but smile in satisfaction at my victory. The organisation were obviously getting desperate without Van to carry out their assassinations. They'd certainly underestimated me by sending this disgusting piece of shit to do their dirty work. He was likely just a hired killer off the streets and not a very good one at that. I resisted the urge to drive a knee into the man's ribcage as he moved his head to the side and his eyes flicked open. He immediately started trying to form incoherent words from his bruised throat.

"I'd save your fucking breath if I were you," I scoffed at him. "You'll be talking soon enough."

But he didn't stop, his lips flapping uselessly, his eyes widening until they were practically bulging out of his head. And he wasn't even looking at me. He was looking past me, his jagged breathing coming in short, sharp bursts. A sound of panic and fear, hysterical.

Even before I twisted my head around to look behind me, I knew. And still the sight of Van standing there in the open balcony doorway when I finally did look wrenched the breath right out of my lungs in an instant. He was dressed in his usual attire of all black under his long coat, the gold pendant he always wore catching the light. His hair was damp from the fine rain that had started to fall outside and it fell over his face in strands, his piercing eyes watching me from underneath. I marvelled at how soundlessly he'd been able to slip into the room, but I shouldn't have been surprised.

"Van... you're here," I breathed, a combination of relief and exhilaration washing over me.

"I am... but it looks like you already took matters into your own hands," he said, a hint of a smirk creasing the corners of his mouth.

He looked calm, serene even, but I knew his relaxed poise belied his true feelings. His eyes flicked between the slumped figure of the man on the floor and me, scanning my face, noting the injury that I'd sustained. There was a storm brewing, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before he'd want to exact his revenge. His own brutal brand of justice for hurting me. His girl.

But I couldn't let him do that. As tempting as it was to give in, I had to be strong. I told myself I was doing this to prove my allegiance to the agency but I knew it was also for me. A demonstration of my morals and humanity... to show that I still had some left.

"I need to take him in for questioning," I announced, slowly rising to my feet. "He'll need to be interviewed before he gets charged."

I felt the need to explain as soon as I saw the flicker of disbelief cross Van's face. His demeanour hardened in an instant and it made me automatically tense.

"I can handle all that," he replied coolly.

I consciously tried to draw myself up to my full height, admonishing myself internally that I couldn't quite convey the strength that had been present only minutes before his arrival.

"I need to do this... he might have valuable information that the agency needs. I can't just hand him over."

I watched him step into the room and turn to slide the balcony door shut. The fallen man at my feet let out a groan as he tried to manoeuvre himself on to his side.

"I'm very good at... extracting information. You can leave it with me. I'll get the job done, you know I will."

He crossed to the chair against the wall and removed his coat, laying it across the back. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his long sleeved black shirt one at a time, slowly, never taking his eyes off me. I knew he was waiting, anticipating my resistance. I cleared my throat and spoke quietly but firmly.

"And you know full well that I can't let you do it. I'm trying to do my job here... I'm trying to do the right thing... legally."

"This isn't up for discussion Lyla," he stated bluntly, starting to roll back his sleeves up to his elbows.

And just like that I could feel my control of the situation slipping away... if I'd ever had it in the first place.

I heard movement behind me and I looked down to see that my attacker had managed to roll himself on to his back. He was fully conscious  now and the wildness in his eyes had returned. "Don't you let that fucking psycho anywhere near me!" He pleaded.

I looked back to Van, a different kind of plea in my own eyes. Could he ever show mercy? Was he even capable of it?

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face. "So say I do let you handle it, your way. What are you gonna do, huh? Sit him down in an interview room with a cup of tea and a lawyer? Play good cop, bad cop whilst he sits there tight-lipped fucking laughing at you?”

He stepped forward, and his close proximity set my heart racing. He reached out his hands so they rested on my shoulders and I looked up at him as he continued.

"These people only understand one language... trust me... I know."

"But you can't keep fucking killing people!" The words burst from me urgently, then I added hastily... "even if they do deserve it!"

His fingers tightened their grip on my shoulders and he moved even closer still. "I'm sorry love, but this is what I do… and this is the way it’s going to be.”

His voice was soft but with a firmness that left me in no doubt that I was fighting a losing battle, but still I had to try. If I gave up now, I may as well just accept that everything that I’d trained for all these years was for nothing.

"The man who got his throat slit in the club... was that you too? Were you there? Was he sent to kill me as well?"

Van nodded in confirmation. "They want you dead, just like they want me dead. I know too much... and they think you do too. I thought I was protecting you by keeping things from you, but now I realise it's far too late for that. I told you before. They'll come and they'll keep coming... and they will not stop... not until you are dead. Now we’re handling this my way. It's the only way."

And then it struck me as he looked searchingly into my eyes that he actually wanted my consent. It would have been all too easy for him to shunt me aside, use force, restrain me even, and I had no doubt he would do just that if I continued to argue, but my approval meant something to him. The realisation made me soften my stance, my opposition wavering.

My assailant could sense it too. He writhed on the floor, pulling at his bound hands, bucking his body. "You fucking bitch!" He spluttered. "They'll get you, and when they do you'll be sorry. You'll pray for death. You'll wish I'd have fucking killed you!"

I winced at his words, letting them sink in, saw Van's eyes darken, the storm clouds gathering.

There was evil in this world, and it existed everywhere that you looked. I’d always thought the only way to overcome it was good, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe evil was the only way to stamp evil out. Fight fire with fire.

"I need to know who sent him," I said, my voice barely a whisper, like if I kept it quiet enough then maybe I wouldn’t be judged for what I was about to do.

Van didn't reply, but our exchange didn't need words. It was entirely unspoken but the understanding was clear. I was putting my trust in him yet again even with the knowledge of what he was capable of. I supposed it should have made me feel weak, but it didn't. It made me feel strangely powerful.

I stepped aside, my eyes fixed on Van who looked back unwaveringly. I thought I saw a shadow of something like sorrow cloud his countenance but it passed in an instant.

I quickly crossed to the balcony door, opening it up and stepping out into the night, shutting it behind me, leaving Van and the man alone.

[metalbuckaroo]

Years to Come

SUMMARY// Bucky found a new domestic version of life that he enjoys

WARNINGS// some cavity inducing fluff, soft smut, exhibitionism, beach sex (there isn't anyone around but y'know just to be safe)

AU// Mafia!Bucky x f!reader

NOTE// Inspired by this lovely photo set 🥴🥴🥴 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Being with Bucky had its perks.

Other than him buying you anything he saw you just look at for more than ten seconds, going to fancy dinners, galas, and threatening anyone who dared to so much as hurt your feelings-

You were spoiled, not just by gifts, but in everything. Love, adoration, loyalty. Anything you wanted Bucky would gladly provide.

It wasn't about the different things he'd buy you, or the amount of money he spent; it was the new pride he had when he walked. Some thought it made him more dangerous- you were just happy to see him switch from a deep scowl, to a gentle smile when his eyes would meet yours.

He was wrapped around your pinky and everyone knew it. That is what made him more dangerous.

No one expected Bucky to have a soft spot for anyone. Let alone enjoy the more domestic things you asked of him. He didn't even expect it.

But, there was something about the way you looked at him as the two of you sat in a grassy patch at the edge of the sandbar, when you were suppose to be looking at the ocean. It made him feel whole. Like a piece of him had been missing his entire life until the day he'd met you.

A sweet smile on your face as your fingers toyed with a few blades of grass, gazing in awe of how handsome he looked with the orange tint of the setting sun lighting his sharp features. Bucky acted like he didn't notice just so you would keep looking at him like that, as if he was the best thing you'd ever set eyes on. The same way he looked at you.

And that was exactly how you saw him.

His white shirt making his smooth skin look even more tanned, the fabric straining over metal and flesh biceps as his forearms rested on his bent knees. The way his light stubble shadowed his defined jaw, how he looked so strong, yet relaxed.

"Hey..." You said softly, reaching to card your fingers through the short strands of his soft hair. A kind smile gracing his face as he looked at you, leaning to place slow, loving kisses to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

"Love you, sweetheart." Bucky whispered, eyes closed as your hand rested on the back of his neck. "Love you, big boy."

"Promise you'll never leave me?" He hated to ask it, but he needed to hear it. You felt like a dream, the way you touched him, looked at him, treated him. He swore it was too good to be true. "Forever and a day, remember?"

"Make it forever and a week, I like that better." He chuckled, snaking an arm around your waist and urging you back against the grass. "Completely agree."

You swore time stood still everytime Bucky's lips molded to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. Hand gliding up your side to caress your breast through the thin fabric of your dress.

"We're on a beach, Buck." You giggled when he dipped his head down to nip at the side of your neck. "There's no one around. Just pull your panties to the side and ease in. It'd be fun." He shrugged, warm tongue soothing the light mark his teeth made. "Is someone sees us, we'll be arrested."

Bucky brushed his lips to yours, pecking a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Hm, they wouldn't hold us long, though." He hummed. "Not happening." You smiled, patting his firm chest.

He jutted his bottom lip out and sat up. "Worth a try. Maybe another time." He said, leaning back against his palms. His long legs stretched out in front of him.

Your eyes flicked down to the outline of his erection straining against his jeans as you sat up, catching the edge of your bottom lip between your teeth as you moved to straddle his lap. "You know I can't resist you, right?"

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath when your fingers popped open the button of his jeans. "Really?" His eyes went wide, lips parted as he watched your every move. "Mhm." You nodded, lifting your hips so you could sink down on him once his pants were shuffled down enough.

Strong arms wrapped around you to hold you close as you swiveled your hips carefully, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck to muffle his low moans.

The crash of waves against the shore nearly drowned out every breathy sound from the two of you. Holding each other close and reveling in the feeling as Bucky's breathing got heavier, his grip around you tightening as tingles of pleasure grew stronger when your walls fluttered around him.

"Cum, baby. Please, need you to finish first." He huffed out against your neck. The rush of being so vulnerable on an empty beach helping with the pressure that quickly built in your lower belly.

A whimper of his name rolling off of your tongue when your hips faltered as you released around him, soothing praises whispered from Bucky as he spilled into you.

He didn't want to let go, keeping his arms around you until both of your bodies had calmed down.

"Hold on-" he said when you went to move off of him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "What?" You asked as he clicked around on the screen, leaning back a little to get a clear view of your face in the camera. "A souvenir for us to remember this in years to come."

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

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[mandoalorian]

Honeymoon [Din Djarin x F!Reader] - **SMUT**

Summary: You’ve been saving your credits for months in order to treat your husband to the surprise honeymoon you both deserve. He’s a little on edge though, despite the luscious, tropical environment he’s surrounded by. So, as his wife, you do everything in your means to get him to relax.

Warnings: unprotected p in v, riding, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunningless, cum eating, spanking, anal fingering, breeding kink, slight sub!Din if you squint. 18+ only.

Word count: 2600+

Reblogs appreciated. 💙

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

Marrying Din Djarin was the best decision of your life. 

Standing dead centre in the middle of your hotel suite, your husband had never looked so out of place. The yon orange sunlight seeped through the crack in the voile curtains, and a warm, summer breeze waved gently through your hair. You could tell, even through his beskar Mandalorian helmet, that your husband was completely stricken by the beauty of the great outdoors. Your view from outside the hotel suite was a novelty, for sure. The beach’s water circled around the hotel and pooled outside into a tranquil, turquoise coloured ocean. A distance from your window, but not too far, was a growing jungle of vines and trees, habited by various reptilian animals that were distinct to the planet of Scarif. You couldn’t wait to meet them all.

You’d saved up credits, and it had taken almost a year, but finally— finally, you could afford this. A sanctuary. A small vacation. Something you could call your honeymoon. It was long overdue.

Din had warned you when you married him that a honeymoon wasn’t on the cards. It just wasn’t plausible. He was a bounty hunter and he worked every damn day, risking his life just so he could bring back enough credits to put food on the table for you and Grogu. A holiday of any sorts was out of the question.

But you’d been saving up in secret, and if he’d ever found out about your planned endeavour — well, he’d never approve. Good job he’d managed to keep out of your way when you bought the tickets for the five star hotel suite. What proved to be even more of a challenge, was persuading Din to take you to the remote and tropical island planet of Scarif. 

You left the kid with Peli Motto on Tatooine, much to Din’s disdain. You’d spoken to Greef and broken a deal with him in secret; that the guild master was not allowed to provide Din with any bounties prior to the week you were due to go away. Everything rolled out perfectly, just as planned.

For the first time in a long time, your clan of three was living a stress free life, void of any anxieties related to Din and his profession. You loved him with your mind, body and soul, and accepted him for who he was. But part of you, a small part of your heart, hoped that one day, maybe he’d give up bounty hunting for good. He was getting older now. You’d occasionally pick out the greying hairs in his stubble, and the crinkles in the corners of his starry brown eyes were becoming increasingly more prominent. There was a beautiful galaxy out there, and he’d only seen the bad parts. The parts that were rampant with crime and death. You hoped that this honeymoon trip to Scarif would show him the true beauty of the world -- and everything he was missing out on.

He couldn’t bounty hunt forever. One of these days, he was going to have to settle down.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Din announced, picking up some complimentary hotel chocolates that had been left on his pillow. He pulled off his mustard coloured gloves and began to fiddle with the red foil wrapper. “All of this. I can’t believe you did all of this without me knowing.”

“I was afraid you’d be mad at me.�� you mumbled, subconsciously rocking backwards and forwards on your heels. Din couldn’t even begin to imagine how much this trip had cost you, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the exact figure. 

“I am mad at you.” He retorted, but you could sense the air of amusement in his voice. Din Djarin was an esteemed bounty hunter, the best in the Guild. He prided himself in being the best too. He was always one step ahead of everyone, always knowing what was about to come before others even knew themselves. Apparently though, his skill was lost on you. Part of him though, was proud. A pretty big part of him, to be exact.

He was chuffed to be able to call you his wife. He didn’t believe the day would ever come. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you pondered out loud, looking around the hotel suite. “Did you see those big colourful birds as we walked in? They were enormous. We should check out the gift shop and buy a disposable camera. I know Grogu would love to see the photos when we get back.”

Din tilted his helmet in acknowledgement of your comment, but opted to stay silent, his eyes fixated on you and only you. Yeah, he was sure Scarif was a beautiful planet (there was no doubt in his mind), but not even all the colourful birds or glistening waters in the whole galaxy could ever compare to the beauty of you. Your eyes snapped back towards Din when he didn’t respond, and you felt your mouth part as a knowing sigh escaped your lips.

“Tell me you don’t…” you closed your eyes, already mentally preparing yourself for his answer. “...Tell me you don’t have hunting mode initiated under that tin can helmet of yours.”

You knew that, under his black tinted visor, he was always in hunting mode. He had to ensure your safety one way or another. When he turned off hunting mode, everything was normal and in colour (despite this one glitch of pixels he had to get fixed). But when he was in hunting mode, his vision was a dull chiaroscuro. 

“We don’t know how safe this planet is,” Din declared, his voice stern as he tried to reason with you. “We just arrived and I’ve never been here before. I haven’t even done a recce.”

You extended your arm and shushed him. “You haven’t been here before because no bounty or crime syndicate ever comes to Scarif. Since the battle between the Rebellion and the Empire, it’s been under full surveillance by the New Republic. There is security on every corner.”

“That doesn’t exactly work well in my favour.” Din muttered, although deep down he knew you were right.

“Do you really think I would’ve taken you somewhere that wasn’t safe for either of us? I’ve been planning this honeymoon for months, Din. Please, trust me.”

It hurt, seeing your husband like this. After bounty hunting his whole life, he was so… on edge. He always struggled to relax. You thought a tropical vacation might’ve just done the trick but maybe he needed more.

“Okay, you’re right. I trust you.” Din sighed in admittance, and you cracked one of your sweetest smiles at his revelation. It was enough to ease Din, even just temporarily.

“It’s too late to do anything now,” you said, biting your lip as you peeked behind the curtains and watched the sunset. “We can just stay in the hotel room and order room service, if you’d like.”

Din nodded, following your direction. He didn’t know the first thing about vacationing. But if one thing intrigued him, it was the luxurious king sized bed that stood before him. It was dressed in ivory satin sheets and silk pillow cases, and it was certainly nothing like the plank of steel you’d both lay on, back in the Crest. No, this was a real bed. You’d caught him staring at it and couldn’t help but smile at the smirk that played on your lips.

“Take off your helmet.” You requested.

“I--,” Din hesitated. “Someone could walk in and see me.”

“The door is locked. We have privacy,” you assured him. Din fumbled around some more. His heart stopped when you planted both your hands on his shoulders and searched for his eyes beneath the visor. “Trust me.” you reminded him with a plea of desperation.

He nodded and slowly began to lift off his helmet. And there, he revealed himself. Your husband. Though you’d seen his face many times now, you’d still always get an out-of-body experience, watching him take it off. Like it was some kind of sin.

“I love you so much,” Din’s unmodulated voice announced, and his brown eyes bored into your beauty. You smiled, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks as you leaned your head into his chest. You slowly began to undress his plates of beskar armour, dropping them to the ground as you discarded them into a pile on the floor. “Such a pretty girl,” he cooed, and you shuddered, feeling his warm breath fan over the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl. All mine.”

“All yours,” you confirmed, dropping the final plate of beskar to the floor. “You need to relax, my love.”

“That word is foreign to me.” Din told you, smoothing out your hair before dropping his large hands down to your hips.

“So let me help you.”

You guided Din over to the bed he’d been eyeing up all night and helped him out of his under clothes, stripping him down to his boxer shorts only. You straddled his hips, pushing him back down amongst the satin sheets and letting your hands wander along his broad, scarred chest. He groaned wantonly. Your tender touch combined with the unfamiliar softness of what lay beneath him was almost enough to make him enter a meltdown. You hummed softly, your voice lulling him in the most comforting manner imaginable. Your fingers dipped further down his body and traced the short tufts of brown hair that poked out the hem of his underwear. Feeling your fingers fiddle with his waistband as he lay on the king sized bed felt ethereal. It was almost too much, he had to stop himself from swatting your hand away. If Din could have it his way, he’d grab you and roll you over, so he was on top -- taking control over you. But you had done this, all of this, to try and help him relax. So, he just lay there and surrendered to you.

The sky was dimming as the minutes passed by. You made a good habit to take your time with him, missing this kind of intimacy. Truthfully, it was hard to ever catch moments like this with Grogu being around. You and Din practically always had to sacrifice loving, passionate sex for quickies in between his bounties; and it wasn’t always easy.

“You-- you look so pretty like this, on top of me.” Your husband gasped out, his already dark eyes growing shades darker with lust.

For a split second, you pulled off him and untied your tunic, letting your simple robe fall to the ground and revealing your almost naked body to him. He was obsessed with you. Absolutely smitten, and it was unlike anything he’d ever been like with anyone ever before. Straddling him once more, you began to grind over his half hard cock, moaning at the friction between his underwear and your lace panties.

You leaned down and pressed your soft lips against his, enveloping him into a sweet kiss. You drop your lips along his gruff jaw and down the column of his neck, making a conscious effort to suck at his sweet spot you’d memorised so well. Reluctantly, you pulled off him and hovered over his lap, signalling with your hands for him to pull down his underwear. He took his hardening cock in his hand and wiped the beads of precum that had developed at his head. Taking the salty seed on his index finger, he brought it up to your mouth and pushed the digit in between your lips. You moaned longingly, relishing in his taste before pulling off him with a pop.

Din pulled off your panties and began to stroke between your folds, groaning when he felt just how slick and ready you were for him. He squeezed your hips and nodded, illustrating that he was ready, and you took a deep breath, anticipating the delicious stretch his cock offered you. You sank down on top of him, your eyes snapping shut as you felt every amazing bump and ridge and vein of his manhood grind along your fluttering walls.

He seated deep inside of you, giving you a few minutes to adjust, and he began to rub tight circles into your clit. He was absolutely mesmerized by you. You chanted his name like it was a prayer, and Din wondered how he ever got so lucky.

Feeling you clench around him and sensing you were about to cum, Din removed his hand from your cunt and gave you a small spanking on the curve of your ass. Your gasp of shock from your orgasm denial turned into a wanton moan as you wiggled further down on him. You giggled, nudging your nose against his as you felt the same finger he’d used earlier on you, make its way to your puckered asshole. Anal was something you’d been working your way up to, but hadn’t tried yet.

“Do you want this?” Din asked, teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“Mhm,” you nodded desperately.

“Are you sure you can take it?” he beckoned, a wicked smirk gracing his soft pink lips.

“Y-yes,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you,” Din growled, giving you another spank. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you cried, “P-please Din, fuck, please. I want it.”

“Dirty girl.” He gritted out, slowly pushing his digit inside of you.

Maker, you were full. In every way imaginable, Din was filling you up, stretching you wide, and it felt… amazing. You began to rock your hips over his cock as he lazily thrust his finger inside your asshole, and you felt yourself panting with every little stroke and movement.

“You look so good, like this,” Din gasped. “Won’t last long.”

And, he didn’t. The second he felt you cumming on top of him, your walls gripping his girth tighter than a vice, he came undone. His load was large, as expected, as his seed spurted in ropes inside of you. Din’s hands wrapped around your stomach and he began to rub soothing circles in your tummy. You didn’t lift off him, but instead, relished the feeling of his cock softening inside of you.

“Maybe this time it’ll work,” he grumbled. “And if not, we’ll keep trying. I won’t stop til I’ve put a baby inside of you, cya’re.”

You hummed and stretched out over him, resting your sticky forehead against his. “Good job we have all honeymoon.”

Din chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek with his hand. Well, if you’d accomplished one thing, it was that Din was certainly feeling more relaxed, that’s for sure.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[starshipsofstarlord]

Hi! So I would like to request a Seb x reader one shot if you have the time ☺️ I just got diagnosed with Endometriosis today and am in need of some soft Seb... Could you write smth where Seb finds out that reader is always in pain during sex and never said anything, though he knows she has Endometriosis and usually cares for her during her period... and he then encourages her to get surgery to try and fix it? Only if it's okay though, I know it's very precise, sorry!

A/N; I am so sorry to hear about this hun, i hope there’s something that can be done, no one deserves to go through that kind of pain. I researched endometriosis and it certainly sounds horrible, I’m sending you all my love and support 💙

Endometriosis - Sebastian Stan x reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request, I changed it a tiny bit so I hope that’s okay, I just feel like if r was in pain seb would notice, I hope you like it hun 🤍

Warnings; endometriosis, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, mentions of sex toys, illness, mention of alcohol, fluff, pain, swearing

divider by @firefly-graphics

It hurt like a bitch, there was no way to put it, or at least it was a simpler revelation of description at the prying of your womb had you near to tears. You laid your head down into the pillow, mushing it into the fabric, as you wanted the pain to dwindle down into nothing, and thus you tried to ignore your own suffering, as you turned over to be on your back, severely wincing by the change in position. A groan came from the other side of the bed, as the man that was laid there began to shuffle, in the midst of waking up.

“Morning.” He spoke with a hoarse voice, the steadiness obliterated by his blatant hangover that was haunting his form. Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fully awoke, stretching his back as he reached his arm out, swiftly hooking it around the back of your neck as you allowed yourself to lay on the muscle. “Guess neither of us got laid, did we?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head, as he tipped his chin up, blinking his baby blues up to the ceiling.

“Considering that we’re in the same bed, and that you’re not a stranger to me, I guess not.” You laughed to your close friend, whom was aware of your condition, but not the extent of it. “Looks like you’re going to suffer from no morning sex Stan, I’m sure that sucks for you.”

“Usually it’s someone else doing the sucking.” You smacked his arm at his off handed comment, pulling a smirk out from the man as he turned to face you, pulling you closer by the contact that he had upon you. “I’m guessing your disappointed that you’re not waking up to some muscular, blonde haired and blue eyes patriotic punk.”

“If you’re describing Evans, i swear that I will punch you in the dick, I said he was attractive once.” You put emphasis on the amount of time(s) you had ever mentioned it. A pout quivered his lips, as he shuffled beneath the covers, angling his hips in a more comfortable position so that they weren’t being crunched down on the mattress.

“You can punch my dick, on the agreement that you kiss it better.” Seb allowed a hollow smirk to mull over his handsome features, as you swatted his bicep once more, an unhumored frown conforming its position upon your face.

“I’m not one of your hook ups, I’m not gonna get on my knees for you buddy.” You bantered back, raising a brow at his inquisition. No, you were not a past sexual partner of his; it was a constant of him never having a serious relationship, he opted for flings rather than any long engagements, you suspected that he had feelings for someone else, but you were not sure of whom.

The thought alone of him being endeared with the image of one woman brought a pain to your body, separate from your medical suffering. Though your opinion wasn’t fair, considering that you as well, or had your time of sleeping around before the pain in your inner walls became too much, and that was one of the many things that you had given up, more or less.

To support the montage of your body’s self torture, you had a mixture of hormone and tablets that helped reduce the unexplainable sensation that willed around in your lower half, swarming around like an internal snake bite in your own body.

“69 then?” He joked, but it felt so serious. You knew he wasn’t being truthful, it was the relationship the pair of you had, though his face had moved closer, his breath fanning over your face, making your heart prominently race as you thought about such a scenario. “Having mentioned Evans...” he began to change the conversation, having felt the heat that had radiated from your body.

“Go on.” You pried at him, interested in hearing what his friend had opted to say about the pair of you. It wasn't every day that you heard celebrities gossiping about you.

“He thinks we’ve hooked up.” Sebastian stated, making your neck reel slightly back as you took in the fact, of well, the perceived view point of a world renowned, household name, actor. A part of you was slightly embarrassed, you held your own cheek as the words that Chris had passed on sunk in on you.

“We, no, never. Okay, I’m exaggerating, that would not be so bad, but it would definitely be weird. But like, why does he think that, of all things?” You asked whilst partially laughing. It made you partially aware of yourself, and the prospect of you possibly having made your feelings obvious, but that however hadn’t been the case as Seb scratched over the stubble that he had on his chin, and did that awkward Bucky smile that had became humorous in his new marvel show.

“Of all things; it’s like you’re trying to break my heart babes.” With one diverging look from you, he knew he was done for. It always pained him to keep secrets from you, and this was the one that he had been hiding for so long. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I still can’t believe that you haven’t caught on, after all this time, but this just shows that you haven’t noticed how I try and scare away every guy with my money and power.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Lightly you scoffed, having many memories of such a situation. It was a pattern that kept repeating itself, but to you it had just become normal, and to say you were fine with it was not incorrect. It gave you hope that he could reciprocate the emotions that you held towards him, though having a wish like that was altogether hopeless. He was just protective, that was all, he probably saw you like a little sister, or something of the sort, that really put a drab annotation on the prospect of romance.

“Ever wonder why?” Ever, more like all the time, but you allowed him to continue without disruption, by doing so more would be unveiled by that mouth of his, and you were eager to learn more, yet a little hesitant. “It is because I am so tired of being your friend, I love it, don’t get me wrong but...” you were dreading what was to come out of his mouth next, you squeezed your eyes shut, almost as if you were unable to see, the pain would not render upon your specimen. “I love you.”

“You what?!” Eyes snapping open, you were blatantly shocked by his confession. “That can’t be right Seb, you’re you, and I’m me, and-“

“We’re us.” He finished for you. As he noticed you relax from his contingence, which allowed him the time gap to slide closer, his warm and soft hand running up the side of your face as he watched you gasp from the sensation. It was not the first time he had touched your cheek, but it was the first instance in which he done so intimately; you were rather fond of the treatment.

You nuzzled your face into the curve of his hand, your brows lightly directed in a downwards motion as you lulled in his touch, and that was when you realised that he had frozen. “Shit.” You stopped him from moving away, pausing the sadness in his eyes for the current second. “I should have responded, that was my bad. I love you too, I’m not just saying that, so you know.”

“That’s a relief.” Sebastian sighed, falling back onto the mattress, bringing his face accidentally closer to your own. The tips of your noses were touching as your eyes ogled deep within the pools of one another’s, it was impossible not to seek a closer vicinity, and thus, you slunk closer, bracing the tips of your nails against his scruff, as your lips worked their way onto his.

“How would you like another kind of relief?” You pulled away, stroking down the smooth course of his shirt covered chest, prompting a suggestive dialogue in your tone. His brow raised as he thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered a rather distinctive matter he didn’t want to cause any obstruction to.

“What about your, you know?” He was referring to your endometriosis, having the knowledge about the unfortunate illness that interfered with your life. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the encouraging you to take your medication on days that you weren’t feeling particularly well, he was there. Now it made sense why.

To reply, you softly shook your head, combing your hands over his shoulders, as you answered him. “If it gets too much, I’ll give you the signal.” You spoke, leaning down to peck his lips, though you still saw the reluctance that was embedded on his forehead in the form of strict lines. “I promise.” You persuaded him, meaning the sentiment, as his eyes trailed down, his hand scourging a fierce, passionate grip upon your hipbone as his tongue weaved its way back into your mouth.

You moaned into the atmosphere of his mouth, grabbing onto his cheeks as you heaved breaths into the internal beyond of this man, rolling on top of him, as you swept your crotch down against his own, extracting a sinister sound out of his guttural throat. It was only turning you on more, and you knew that if you didn’t do something, even despite the recommendations of your doctor, you would be sufficed with a lack of pleasure, and that was all you currently craved.

It wasn’t fair how you had been dubbed with the condition. So many people in the world could have sex whenever they pleased, yet you were forced to commend under the sentence of experiencing a discomfort when all you wanted was the comfort of being intwined with another human being. That connection, it felt mandatory, however you were denied it, for every time that you proceeded to bed a stranger, or a partner of any sorts, the stretch of anything in your walls pursued you with a fracture of pain.

You’d even had to throw out your vibrator, whilst it felt good on the outside, the clenching of your empty walls sparked physical and mental hurt, and reminded you of the fact that whenever you were filled by any length, your body could not function to emit pleasure, instead it was the opposite that you were tasked with contracting. The thought and reminder often spewed tears in your eyes, but you held them back as you got lost in Sebastian.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted sentimentally, and your heart both became full and broken. It was sweet and scorching to the arousal between your legs to know that he was that concerned about your well being; he wasn’t just prioritising getting his dick wet. He resumed pressing succulent kisses on your lips, he lulled in the notion, he too wanted to be close to you, but he wasn’t willing to do inadvertently so to the expense of you being in pain.

That was the opposite of what he wanted, even as your hand wandered down his firm and pheromone driven body, that bucked in your grip, as your hand hooked around his bulge, your thumb stroking over his round sack as he grew beneath the layers of his soft sweats and underwear. “69 then?” You reiterated his earlier words, causing his pupils to blow wide, and his blue irises to darken into the juxtaposition of stormy skies.

“Will that be okay?” You confirmed it was, even if you weren’t completely sure yourself. The angles, the penetration, it was all elements, that combined gave you an equation that you had yet to figure out. The only way to do so was to try it, even if it concluded in an error, and not a sensible answer. To instigate the next step, you roused your sleep shirt from your body, leaving you in nothing more than your causal panties, but Seb didn’t seem to mind.

In fact he rather preferred the normalcy of your actions and undress, it made the strategy of shifting from friends to intimate lovers into one of relaxation, there was no absurdity nor discomfort yet, for either one of you. Your fingers dipped in the sides of your underwear, teasing the band, as you cocked your head towards Seb, licking your lips as you took in the view of him entranced by your being. “Am I going to be the one naked or...”

You were grateful that he took the hint, and stripped himself from both layers that kept his goods confined. He rapidly removed them, leaving his uncut cock open to your gaze; it wasn’t anything massive which was a relief, but it for now, it was to be attained in the confinement of your mouth, rather than the realm of your cunt, so that slight stretch could await. As you thought of that, you reached your hand out, dancing your fingers lightly over his shaft.

Seb emitted a soft huff from his obtainable lips, he dragged you to be laying atop of him, as your thighs surrounded his length on either side, it was warm, and rested perfectly below your where your cunt was hovering. How you wished to just sink down on it and- “Turn around.” For a moment you took time to refrain your memory to perceive what you had said before. And then, whence your words caught up to you, it was simple to do so, especially with the motivation of what was going to happen.

As you spun around, to be facing his lower half and have your own above his mouth, you watched his cock twitch, as it rested heavily upon his abdomen. You could feel your nerves kick in; it was a substantial difference from anything that you had ever done together, from looking at the stars and watching cheesy movies, to sexual actions, it was quite the leap. But a welcome one, you had waited so long to acknowledge your feelings to him, you'd be damned if you were not going to act on them.

A shiver rippled up your spine as he paved a lick through your slit, it made you tense up for a moment, and you try to register any diagnosis of pain, you coiled when he put one of your lips in his mouth. It felt good, which was a relief, and you took that as a sign to reap your front forwards, and focus on his throbbing hardness that was oozing precum against his perfect skin. The drop of essence looked like liquid moonstone, catching the ambience of the snooping sun that eyes through the crescent opening of the closed curtains, creating a luminescent light against the contrast of his skin.

Leaning forwards, as the initial shock of Seb using his tongue on you had settled in, as a faint plea from inside of you derived away in your eternal being, your tongue glided over the patch of fallen precum, your eyes fluttering at the heavenly, yet rare taste, it wasn’t every day that a man’s cum was relatively nice on your buds. Some perceived eating junk food as a lifestyle, caring not for how the receiver of their sperm would taste within the mouth of a giver on the other end. Sebastian hummed against your slick folds, as he danced his hands around your ass, grasping your cheeks firmly.

His fingers swept through the outside of your cunt, fooling around with your labia as his tongue swirled your bud, making your face grimace on the edge of pleasure, as your warm lips wrapped around the head of his cock, whirling your tongue within his slit, as your hand rested around the rest of his length, jerking it in your grasp, as his hips lightly heaved upwards against your face. He teased a finger around your entrance, running the tip along the wet flesh that mimicked your breaths as it clenched prosperously.

“Shit!” Tears webbed in your eyes as he entered the finger, though he considered that a resonating profanity of pleasure. To your dismay, it indeed was not though, the entry of the digit weighed heavy inside you, prying sorely against your walls as your giving to him paused, as you harshly gripped his thigh. “Shit, that hurts Seb. Fuck!” In an instant, he stopped, extracting his finger out from within you, as it caused you further pain, and helped you turn around, and lay languidly upon the bed.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m so sorry y/n/n.” He panicked, immense guilt wavering his body, as he grasped your face, staring with sorrow into your seasoned expression. “I didn’t mean to- didn’t want to hurt you, shit, I should never have tried to-“ soothing his conflicting emotions, you stroked his shoulders, kissing him to ease his words into silence. He felt guilty, but so did you, you were the one whom had encouraged to pursue the rhythm of your shared sexuality to one another, deducting the poise of your actions with tear beaded eyes.

“It was my fault; I said it would be fine. I should have known it shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” You reasoned with him, knowing that you had told him that it was to be something that you could manage, but from experience, you should have had better knowledge of how things would turn out.

“Don’t you ever apologise, you’re perfect, the only thing that I want to ease is your suffering. Is there any news on the operation that can be done, should I get you your medication now?” He wanted to be certain, to ensure that you didn’t put the accountability of your situation completely on yourself, he should have asked if a finger would have been fine, he shouldn’t have been swayed by your persuasion. “I could talk to someone, see if I could get the thing moved up, I can pay for it, get you further up on the ladder.”

“No.” You smiled, pressing an ample kiss upon his scruffy cheek. “I don’t want that, many other people are waiting for the op too, and I can’t have you paying for it. That would just be inconsiderate of me, you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask more. You’ve been there through everything, just wait with me whilst I wait for myself.” You pulled the sheets over your breasts, staring opulently into his serene eyes, shuddering as he swept his lips over your mouth once more, deriving you breathless for a moment.

“It’s okay to be selfish, if any of them had that chance, then they would take it. I can afford it, and I would want nothing more than to pay for it, it’s not just about sex, you know that. I love you so so much, you’re my best friend, the girl of my dreams, I’ve waited for you, I just want the pain that you live through to disappear. Out of all people, it’s not fair that it’s you, but it is, and this is the one way to fix the reductive searing of hurt that you live through.” You gulped, water glazing your irises as you stared at her, trying to diffuse your light sob.

His words brought acceptance to you within the scenario, as you took a deep breath in, confronting the trigger that had set off inside of you. It was difficult to handle and attain to, as you curled in his bare arms, exasperating your soundness close to him, as he competently cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Okay.” You agreed, nodding sincerely along with your words. “Okay, I’ll do it for me. It’s the right thing to do.” A smile raved his face, as you convinced yourself of doing so. It was to be a long road, but Sebastian would be there holding your hand, travelling down this path alongside you.

[theydjarin]

dincobb server got this on my mind, so dincobb where Din settles down in Mos Pelgo in some capacity with Cobb and starts experimenting with different styles of clothing

Thank you for the prompt!! This is longer than I planned, and rated M.

Featuring cross dressing, trans masc Din, but also general gender fluidity that neither of these two have a name for.

[still accepting trans prompts for any din ship]

It's one of those days where Din wakes up bored. It's his day off from his duties in Mos Pelgo, during his month off from his duties on Mandalore, and he's bored, fingers itching and mind racing. But he doesn't feel like going outside and being around people, confronted with the small talk and gossip of a small town. So instead, he finds himself looking through the nooks and crannies inside of his and Cobb's home. It's mostly items he's seen or expected, miscellaneous vaporator parts, countless ribbed red shirts and scarves, his own armor, and the like.

Eventually, he makes his way to the second, less-used dresser, not expecting much different. He doesn't even realize what he's seeing at first, assuming the red is just yet another scarf, until he notices the fabric looks different. A different color, yes, but it also looks... softer, more fragile. His hands reach out before he can think about it, and he's right, the fabric is incredibly smooth and soft, so smooth that he almost thinks he shouldn't touch it, that his hands will damage the fabric from how much roughness they've seen throughout his life.

He doesn't damage the fabric, however, and he pulls it from the drawer, quickly realizing it's a red dress. It's such a contrast to the rough flight suit and unyielding armor he's worn nearly every day for his entire adult life that Din doesn't even know what to do with himself. He feels his heart pounding in his chest for reasons unknown, and he just can't stop touching the fabric, resisting the urge to press his face up into it or to hold it up against his body, maybe to imagine--

His train of thought is interrupted by the door to the bedroom opening, his partner walking in and taking in the scene in front of him.

The look on Cobb's face isn't angry or embarrassed, but it's... shy, shyer than Din has ever seen before, and it's then that Din realizes just why Cobb has this dress in the first place.

"Hey," Din says softly, his lips twitching up into a small smile. He can tell the winds have been kicking up all morning, judging by Cobb's wind-blown hair and the distinct line of sand and dirt above where he would have been covering his mouth with his scarf.

Cobb walks closer to him. "Hey yourself," he says, putting his hand over Din's over the fabric he's grasping.

"I was snooping," Din admits.

"Is that so?" Cobb asks, looking amused, the shyness gone from his eyes. Din wonders how much Cobb can see spread across his own face. "Ain't really snooping when it's your room too." He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Din's lips.

"I like the dress," Din says, not sure how to express the full depth of the thoughts speeding through his mind at a hundred parsecs a minute.

"Oh yeah?" Cobb asks and kisses him again. "Wanna see?"

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Cobb takes his sweet time in the refresher, but Din's breath is taken away when he comes out. He took the time to wash his face and hair of the day's grime, and the dress looks stunning on him. Where most of the clothes he dons are more functional than anything, the dress is anything but. The dress reaches just to the middle of his thigh and the thin straps show off his deceptively strong shoulders, decorated with scars from a lifetime of survival. Cobb is practically glowing. The red on his cheeks just about match the dress, and it's from more than just the harsh light of the Tatooine suns. His eyes are shining bright and-- and happy.

"You look amazing," Din says when Cobb reaches him. His hands move forward to rest oh-so-gently on his waist and his thumb rubs circles against the fabric, still so soft against his skin. "Why haven't I seen this before?"

"Thank you kindly," Cobb says. He looks away and wraps his arms around Din, holding him close. "I've never worn this around anybody before."

"I'm honored," Din says into his neck, smelling the artificial soap they both use and the smell of Cobb underneath it. "Do you still want me to use 'Cobb'? And... he?"

Cobb hums considering. "I'm still a man," Cobb says. "Well, most of the time, I suppose. Right now, to be certain. Sometimes I feel differently." He shrugs. "But most of the time, I just like it. Feels good against my skin, feels... free. Don't rightly know how else to describe it."

Cobb presses a kiss to the side of Din's head, and Din lets his hands explore, feeling the fabric as it presses against the taut skin of Cobb's back.

"Is it sexual?" he asks.

Cobb laughs, presses another kiss to Din's head, then pulls his face up into a kiss, deeper than before. Din opens his mouth up to him and they kiss for a few seconds, Din's hands still touching Cobb all over, reveling in the feel of the dress. He wants... he wants...

"Can be," Cobb finally says when they part, breathing heavy. "I've had to get rid of some mighty tough stains, that's for sure." Din can feel the heat of Cobb's hardness against his thigh and Din presses up against it. "But not always. Some days I'll just wear it while I'm doing my normal shit. Cooking, reading a book, fixing up 'round the house."

Din can imagine it. Cobb lounging on the couch, legs apart like always, reading something on the datapad. Cobb with flour in his hair from baking. Cobb with a streak of grease on his face from doing repairs, ruggedness standing in contrast against the dress.

"Can I..." Din starts. The question gets stuck in his throat, and he leans in to press his lips against Cobb's collarbone.

"Anything you want, darlin', just say the word."

"Can I try it on?" Din blurts out.

Cobb freezes for a second before he starts shaking, and Din realizes he's laughing at him. He frowns and starts to pull back and away. "Never mind," he says, "it was just a-"

"No! Darlin', no, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. It's just not what I was expecting, is all." He pulls Din back in for another kiss and smiles against his lips. "I thought you were going to ask if you could grab that dick of yours in the bedside table and bend me over the dresser."

Finally, Din catches up and a smile pulls on his face to match Cobb's. "Wouldn't be opposed to that, if you want."

"What I want is for you to try on the dress." He presses a kiss to Din's forehead and pulls back. "Not this one though."

He moves over to the dresser and pulls out another drawer, picking out a yellow bundle. A dress, in the same style as the one Cobb is wearing, but a bright mustard yellow instead of the sharp red. Din's mouth goes dry and he reaches out to grab it. This time, he doesn't stop himself from rubbing it against his face. The fabric pulls against his stubble and feels unbelievable against his skin. Cobb looks at him so, so tenderly that Din damn near wants to cry.

"Go on, then." He nods towards the fresher. "Take as much time as you need."

"No," Din says breathlessly. "I'll-- here." He wastes no time in pulling off his dark shirt, throwing it haphazardly where he normally would take the time to put it away, and pushes down his long pants, kicking them away.

The dress goes easily over his head, but getting his arms through the straps proves to be somewhat of a challenge. Nothing he can't overcome, though, and soon enough it's situated, and he just looks up at Cobb and smiles. He brushes his hands down his chest that he knows is only adorned with his binary scars, down to his thighs, feeling the soft fabric all the way down. The dress is lighter than he expected, and, weirdly, he feels like he can breathe easier. Easier than he could in his flight suit, easier than he could in his sleepwear, and easier than he could when he was wearing nothing at all.

"You like it?" Cobb asks him. Din feels higher than he did when Cobb introduced him to that leafy green spice of his.

"Yeah," he says and it feels like an understatement.

"Wanna take a look?"

"Yeah."

Cobb pulls him to the fresher, the only floor length mirror in the abode.

"You're breathtaking," Cobb tells him as he stands behind Din, holding him close.

Din's not one for vanity, but in this case he has to agree. He never thought he'd be capable of looking so soft and vibrant before in his life. And together, he and Cobb make quite a pair, complimenting and contrasting each other in equal measure, red and yellow burning bright together.

Cobb's arms wrap around Din's waist and he's pulled in, back flush against Cobb's front. Cobb rests his chin on Din's neck, admiring the picture of them together in the mirror.

"How'd I get so lucky?" Cobb asks, holding him tight. Din turns around in his arms and kisses him.

"I ask myself that every day." They kiss for a few moments more, the silky smooth fabric of their dresses sliding against each other so easily that Din can feel everything. "Now how about instead of the dresser, I bend you over this sink."

Cobb laughs at that, shining and beautiful, and presses Din up against said sink. "Darlin'," he says, "I thought you'd never ask."

[itstheimpossibledream]

Catholic School

Summary: Just some Smutty Smut Buuuuut I wanted to do something fun & different. For some reason I thought it was weird to me that Walker seemed so pissed about his parents putting his daughter in catholic school and of course my mind went to find a strange way to make that sexual.Soooooo yeah here’s my first Walker fic. My little black body isn’t a huge fan of glorifying lawenforcement (like we see oftenly in the show) so idk how many more Walker fics we’ll get but, I had to do this one for my Jared girls!

Word Count :2,714

Pairing:Walker x Emily/you( Idk I wrote it weird)

“Is that all of it?” He asked, mock huffing as he set down the container of things at the top of your pyramid of boxes. 

“You better not knock over my stuff.” you shout over your shoulder. As you reach out to resume setting up your bookcase, you hear a shuffle and crash. The box’s contents cover the floor,and instead of scolding him for what you knew he would do ,you turn back to the shelf, right after shooting him a look to let him know he would absolutely be held responsible for removing the mess. 

“I’m sorry babe that’s my fault.” He chuckled, getting onto his knees to begin the process of cleaning up. You just roll your eyes and return to your shelf.

“ Woah ,woah! What is this ? Why haven’t I seen you in this!?!” He exclaims whirling you around and practically smacking you in the face with the skirt from your old high school uniform.

“Because you didn’t go to Our Lady of Peace”t

You retort smartly,smacking the skirt away from your nose.

“See that’s not fair!” He says ,grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in. Cordell Walker wasn’t always the ridiculously goofy & sentimental type. In fact, he was working his way into being one of the best law enforcement officers this area had ever seen. But, as he held the skirt up to your waist, his strong arms around you, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip as he kissed directly below your ear before whispering “please”.

As stupid as it was a small part of you did want to know if you could still fit into the uniform. And an even larger part of you couldn’t wait to use it as your secret weapon later, to get out of doing laundry or some other menial household chore. Moving in together was a big step.It was thrilling and exciting but, so far it hasn’t been without its challenges. You noted this part particularly as you looked down at your pile of items discarded from the box; dusting the edge of your peripheral vision.

“Fine” you breathe lightly, feigning disinterest “but you’re gonna regret it.”

“Em. There’s no way that’s possible.” he calls out shooting you a toothy grin. You allow the door to slam behind you ,cutting him off from sharing whatever fantasies he had worked up with the slam of the door between you. Surprisingly, the skirt slipped on with unimaginable ease, and the rest of your time was spent judging yourself in the mirror. The skirt barely covered your butt, you were aware. And the whore in you absolutely couldn’t wait to rush out and show him. Cordell was a calm Texas boy, a sweet and simple lover, truth be told you had wondered often about how to pull out his dark side and this skirt may be just the thing to do it. You had seen him slam suspects against a wall and tackle down perps. But, that was emotion reserved specifically for when he was angry, and never directed towards you. It wasn’t that you wanted him to be upset with you. But, you had been together long enough to understand sweet Walker and something in you desperately wanted to know what was beneath that. 

You took off your t-shirt and threw it in the hamper, allowing the black lace of your bra to show itself fully in connection with the red and black plaid of the skirt.

“You’re done for Walker.” You laugh as you open the door to see him standing in the hallway, he had been waiting for you, practically on his tip-toes jumping for excitement.

“ Oh my gawd.” The Texas twang in his voice was unmistakable. You smile up at him, stepping into the hall when you are met by a large, veiny hand on the skin of your bare stomach. “No.” He says slowly pushing you back into the bedroom. “ I can’t let you go anywhere like that.” You watch the expression on his face, as his eyes turn hungry and his grip changes from pushing you to his fingers lightly digging into your skin.

“Get on the bed.” He commands. You do as you’re told, looking up at him innocently while sitting on the side of the bed.He sits next to you and begins running a hand up your thigh.

“You know you’re ridiculously hot in this outfit right?” You just look at him,pretending to be entirely unaware of what the outfit was doing to him.

“Tell me something.” he says, rubbing the expanse of your leg again. “What’s the sluttiest thing you did in this outfit?” Your eyes shot up to meet his, and then immediately looked away.  

“Unh uhhh.” he warned, moving his hand up from your thigh to meet your warmth. You gasp lightly at his touch, and your response causes a dark smirk to play at the corner of his lips. 

You can feel him push pressure onto your clit and allow yourself to close your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you never let anyone bend you over a desk and tell you how good it feels to be inside you catholic girl?” he joked. You let out a light moan as  he pushed two fingers inside.

“Your darkest highschool secret.Come on, tell me.” You can feel his breath hitch as you lightly move your hips, changing your position on his fingers. 

“I-I wanted my history teacher.” you breathe. You had no idea why you revealed that.

“Good girl….tell me more.”

“I’d pull my skirt up so  he could see, then I’d bend over and pick up books, or lean all the way over a desk to help a classmate, anything I could do to get his attention.” Once you started talking you couldn’t stop.You wanted to tell him every filthy thing you had ever done or even thought of. 

“Mmmm he made you wet didn’t he baby?” you shut your eyes even tighter not wanting to see his face, for fear of his reaction. A highschool teacher as a student’s first real crush isn’t out of the ordinary but he had a way of bringing out your dirtiest thoughts. 

“Yes.” you allowed out in a shaky breath. He pumped his hands faster into you.

“But you’ve done dirtier things than that right babygirl?” he asks. Fuck .Why did he have to call you baby girl? He knew that was a weakness, and clearly he didn’t intend on taking it easy on you anytime soon. 

“In class” you whisper “I stayed after to finish a test once.” your breathing is becoming ragged, he has to know you don’t have much longer before his hand sends you over the edge. 

“And what happened?” he asks gently near your ear, the smoothness of his voice now, contrasting with the force he is using to fuck his hands into you. 

“I knew he liked me, he couldn’t say it but, he did.”

“So you teased him.” he pushes his fingers into you, sending you over the edge. Your head drops back between your shoulder blades and you open your eyes, to look at him as you moan your way through your orgasm. Looking up at him as innocently as possible.He gets up from the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. You somehow manage to recover, as he moves toward you, setting you up father onto the mattress. He places the pad of his thumb at the top of your bottom lip, running it over the puffy, pink skin of your pout.

“You’re such a beautiful little fuck doll.”he moans , pushing his thumb inside your mouth, you suck on it, submissively. You hear him undoing his pants with his other hand, and soon he’s on top of you, covering your body with his. The skin-to-skin contact is deliciously fulfilling and you want to feel every inch of him over you.

“Open your legs for me princess.” he commands but,your head is swimming with adrenaline and you barely hear him. 

“Don’t make me ask twice, baby.” He says, forcing your knees apart, opening you up wide for him to see. You feel the heat of him next to your opening and roll your hips, trying to get him into you but,he doesn’t allow you to satisfaction. Instead, he leans in, kissing you deeply, exploring your mouth. You watch as he pulls back,your lips graze his adam’s apple slowly kissing down his lightly stubbled neck. Suddenly, you feel his lips close to your ear and he begins questioning you again.

“I like that you’re a good girl.”he says calmly “ But,I know your mind is dirty…...tell me what you really did.”he commands.

“I - I -” he cuts you off from even being able to answer by pushing himself into you, filling you up and causing an involuntary moan to escape your lips. He smiled down at you but,didn’t move his hips. He allows you time to adjust to him, when your breathing steadies, you try to talk again.

“My friend had told me that her boyfriend had fingered her at the movies,I wasn’t really interested in the story but, she did say that it felt good, and I guess I was intrigued or something I don’t know.” He pushed into you slowly, and you could see the  darkness in his eyes. He was revelling in the story,turned on by both your honesty and innocence. 

“I don’t know why, I just couldn’t stay focused on my test.” you tried to return your mind to the story but, you were so enraptured by the pressure he was creating in your body you could barely focus. 

“So I finished the test.” you continued “ and then I just I guess I started day dreaming or something.I don't know-” You trailed off, bucking your hips again, and he moves a hand down to stop you from fucking him, possibly even from making him cum. Every one of his exhales seemed to accompany a moan now and you loved how this was all affecting him. You could tell how incredibly turned on he was and it only worked to make you want to fuck him more. 

“When he came back in the room, my test was finished on my desk but, my hand was down my skirt, and I was moaning out his name.” He started thrusting now, quickly moving from a light pace to a hard pumping into you. “My legs were spread wide, and I remember just cumming all over my fingers.” your voice was becoming ragged now,but you continued. 

“Something about him catching me, and knowing he could see my hand in my underwear peeking out from under my skirt.”you sigh. Quickly, he pulls off out of you, rolling you over and positioning you on all fours. This was new, you had never been opposed to doggy-style but, the good-evangelical texas christian boy he was raised as did have an obvious love for the missionary position.You were jerked out of this realization by his pulling of your hair.He lowers his mouth next to your ear “finish telling me the story.”he commands.

“I don’t remember anything else.” you say trying so hard to balance enough to rub yourself into your next orgasm. He smacks his hips into you, pulling you up even further saying “Good girls don’t lie.You get fucked when you tell the truth.” he whispers. Slowing his pace in you.You feel so frustrated by him denying you your right to orgasm and you start raising your voice at him. 

“I- I liked it.” you divulge “ I didn’t stop when he walked in on me. I wanted him to see, to catch me. It made me so fucking hot, because…… because he didn’t look away.” you exhale roughly. He picks up his pace again, really fucking into you.Grunting hard as he digs his nails into your hips. 

“He liked it babygirl.” he moans out “He loved seeing you in that skirt as much as I do.” he moaned again as, you push your hips back to meet him and he moans again,moving one arm to push your head down,as he fucks into you more forcefully than he ever has before. 

“Fuck Em-”he breathes, right before pluging himself into you. You can feel the coil snap in you,as he fills you with his cum.You become aware of how hard you had been holding onto the bed sheets and how your eyes had blissfully rolled to the back of your head, and caused your entire body to relax. It was amazing how he could do that.The two of you laid there for a few moments just panting in the silence.Eventually, he pulled himself out of you receding to the bathroom, you hear him turn on the faucet, water rushing, turning off the faucet he lightly pads his way back into the room. You had managed to roll over but not change much in appearance.He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him, interlacing the fingers on his opposite hand with yours.

“What’s on your mind Cordell Walker? “ you asked from a sleepy haze. He was quiet for a moment before answering, letting the silence sit as you drifted off further. 

“ I just really like that skirt.” You can hear him

Smiling to himself.  You brush a finger over his thumb to let him know you’re still awake and that he won’t get off easily, without something deeper than the skirt inspiring the incredible sexual connections you had both experienced. Your mind danced with the silence again. It was the sound of his heartbeat that brought you back to earth, to Texas, to the bed with him. He speaks quietly, his tone just above a whisper,

“ I’m sorry I didn’t use a condom. I know that’s not our thing.” The uncertainty of his voice shocked you “ I just -I wanted to try-“ 

“ I liked it .” You say cutting him off cheerfully without opening your eyes. 

“ Good.” Silence blankets the room again. “ I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush the kids' thing. I know we said we’d revisit it once we moved in together.But, if you’re not ready. I don’t see any reason to push it.”

“Well” you said rolling over, “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.I just hope we don’t have a girl.”You sigh.You can feel his chuckle radiate through your body. 

“Well the one thing I do know is she will not go to catholic school.” he joked.You burst into laughter. You were right, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Catholic school creates sluts,what can I say?”you smile to yourself,snuggling in.

“I didn’t say that.” He smiles. You run your hand down his forearm,feeling the strength in his arms as your fingertips trace the vanes mapped out across his limb.” It was late, and moving in,during a Texas summer had been almost unbearable.This was the moment you had finally allowed yourself to rest, and being curled up next to him you felt safe enough to drift off to sleep. Into a world where you and Cordell Walker had a daughter, that would be some world.She’d be gorgeous just like her father of course.Probably as headstrong and emotional too. You had always pictured yourself having a boy though. 

No matter what the two of you eventually ended up with, it was clear he would be an amazing dad. You fell asleep smiling to yourself, knowing that as long as the two of you had each other, everything would be alright. Moving in, may have been the best thing the two of you had ever done.

[svnflowervol666]

Luna de Amor (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Author’s Note: A reupload as my original post did not make it to the tags. This is the first time I’ve ever posted a full smut scene on this blog, so, go me! Based on this ask. Smut usually takes me a while longer than other pieces, mostly due to the fact that I like my smut to be as thorough as possible, meaning I have to triple check everything about seven times. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Requests are still open, so send me whatever you’d like to see next, NSFW or otherwise! Take care and tpwk.

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Harry would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the nearly desolate city streets, he would hunker down in his home studio and work on his latest song, he would read a few chapters in his current favorite french novel. There were dozens of outlets Harry had familiarized himself with to utilize for when the time came in which he just couldn’t manage to fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes and be at peace with himself came insidiously slithering into his head.

There something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Harry couldn’t help but feel his cock swelling in his boxers the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and Harry’s hands found their way to her breasts. Harry began kneading them softly in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got from her was a shift in her bum on the mattress which caused Harry to hiss at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Harry always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touches as his kisses grew sloppier and sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Harry swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-groan half-moan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Harry grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need ya t’ wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Harry, the Harry that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch on his own. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and tell her that he was horny that he wanted a shag. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Harry, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Harry’s arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Harry repeated back to her in the same groggy tone.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his painfully hard cock. He hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to euphoria when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, revelling in the way Harry’s brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Harry’s hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Harry’s as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woken her up. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste but mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Harry held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty t-shirt of his that she slept in so that he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Harry ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with the metal of his many rings. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Harry adored oh-so dearly, and she began to feel the wetness from her core start to pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands was still lost in his untameable curls, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Ye’ ready?” Harry asked, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her.

She nodded as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Harry always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, her bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in his arms with the way the tip of his cock was able to brush against all of her sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Harry. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Harry’s stomach, the two of them yearning to reach the point to where they both saw stars.

Her bouncing soon turned to lazy, unmotivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable of continuing. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was frustrated beyond belief because knew she couldn’t get there alone.

“Harry,” she whine as she tugged on the ends of the chocolate curls on the nape of his neck.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

“Ye’ gettin’ there?” he huffed in between each manual breath.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Harry’s neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and his cock plunged in her soaking cunt once more. She cried out at the new angle of Harry on top of her this time, watching his dainty, jade green cross necklace dangle inches away from her face.

“‘ve got ya, baby,” Harry muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “ye’ can let go.”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Harry caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with his one of his strong hands while the elbow of his other arm balanced his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Ye’ so perfect. So good f’ me.”

Harry’s words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Harry could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

“Ye’ gonna cum for me, lovie?”

She could barely make a sound, so she opted to grip Harry’s shoulders even harder than he was as her answer. This made Harry smile and only pushed him to fuck her harder, even deeper so his hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung onto her quickly, so quickly that it caught Harry off guard and forced his own release out of him as well. His milky seed shot deep into her, painting her walls and filling her up so thoroughly that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the satin sheets. They both laid there for a moment, Harry laying his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats. She twiddled with the clasp of Harry’s necklace while he pecked at her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

Once they’d caught their breathe, Harry reluctantly pulled his cock from her cunt, making her wince as the sudden emptiness. He watched with a fascinated expression as his cum ran from her properly swollen center before reaching across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body a while back. With caring hands, Harry cleaned the two of them up, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with another time.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have an interview in the morning and you only wake me up for sex when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Harry, which he adored.

She felt Harry’s laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

All of those outlets, taking walks and writing songs, but none of them compared to this one.

[writefightandflightclub]

Cave me in (Poe x GN reader one shot)

Author’s note: this is a slightly less developed one-shot than I’d usually post, but I’m aiming to throw a few things at you this week while everyone is in quarantine and waiting on the series stuff. Sound ok, readers?

Summary: stranded in a cave with Poe and awaiting rescue, you finally confront that rumour which has been flying around base. Spoiler alert, things get a little steamy. 

Warnings: this is trope central. Warnings for nudity, BLOW JOB, language.

(GIF by @hupperts​)

The mission went south. Long story short, you made it out of the danger zone, but Poe and you had managed to get yourselves stranded. Then, it rained. Then it rained some more. You walked for miles over the barren landscape, clothes sodden, and eventually managed to find a cave to shelter in. 

“Poe, can you get started on setting a fire, somewhere at the mouth?”

“I’ll start a fire in your mouth.” he says, as if it’s an innuendo.

You shake your head in confusion. He’s inexplicable, that man. “Poe what does that even mean? How do you ever pull?”

“Must be the schlong.” you can just about make him out, winking at you in the waning light. You sincerely hope he catches you rolling your eyes in return.

Meanwhile, as he obediently stokes the fire, you set about fiddling with the comms equipment, hoping that it will be dry enough here to maintain a signal. Even though your hands feel like ice blocks, your fingers less than dexterous, you finally manage to connect everything up and patch a message through to the Resistance. You are relieved to hear that a fleet is nearby and someone should be able to peel off to pick you up.

“Th- they’ll be a c- couple of h-hours.” you say through chattering teeth.

“That’s good news!” Poe says, getting a pretty impressive fire roaring.

“Y-yeah.” you try to agree, but your shivers have become much more violent since you stopped moving, and you feel like your body is seizing up. You’re so cold.

Poe comes over to you, feels your hands and face. “Fuck, you’re like ice. You need to get out of these wet clothes.”

“N-no way!” you argue.

“I won’t look, I promise. Just to your underwear. I’ll strip too.”  You fold your arms stubbornly. “It’s a medical necessity, Y/N. Do I have to order you to do this?”

“S-since when does ordering me to d-do anything ever h-help?”

“Rarely. Y/N, come on.” he says firmly and you reluctantly begin to peel off your layers.

“Stop b-begging me to undress and s-strip then f-flyboy.”

You both strip off, silently, down to your underwear, spreading the garments out on rocks close to the fire to dry off.

You avert your eyes from him, melodramatically, looking up at the ceiling and out into the darkness and anywhere else.

“Feel free to look at me if you like,” Poe encourages, such an incessant flirt. “You might even enjoy it. Might warm you up some.”

You roll your eyes, half-heartedly this time, and gravitate towards the flames, the heat gradually thawing your body as you stretch out in front of it like a scarecrow. And maybe you do sneak a sly, less than subtle look at him in those tight boxers, since he gave you permission.Your eyes skimming over that juicy ass. Oof, you didn’t know he had tattoos. And, although you’d tried to imagine it plenty, you didn’t know he would look so fine under his clothes.

He’s really not looking at you though. Not even a little. Not even as you sit down by the fire together. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try; as if you’re not tempting to him at all.

Maybe he’s really not that into you. Maybe he is just an indiscriminate flirt, like you’ve been telling yourself. His attentions nothing personal, nothing of substance.

Soon though, you forget you’re sat in your underwear at all; in your relief to be warm, safe, you fall into the easy camaraderie you have with him, exchanging friendly chatter about nothing in particular. Shortly, you are both in hysterics as you swap some of the best rumours currently doing the rounds back at base.

You throw your head back in laughter at the latest revelation, tears forming at the corners of your creased eyes. “You spread that one about yourself?!” you howl, clutching your belly as you convulse in amusement. You can barely get your words out in between sniggers. He chuckles along with you. “Why would you want people to think you had an alien dick?”

“Sometimes I just need an added challenge, or it’s far too easy for me to pull.”

That sets you off again, as if the idea of him pulling with any frequency is preposterous. Sure, he’s handsome, but he’s such a goof too. He’s not half as smooth as he thinks he is.

“Poe, BB-8 talks. Finn talks. I know you haven’t had anyone back to your room in months.”

He sucks air through his teeth. “Maybe I should rethink that alien dick thing.” He smiles broadly at you, maybe a little keen to change the subject, and bats you on the thigh with the back of his open hand. “Come on, you go. Heard any good ones lately?”

You bridge your fingers together and scrunch up your face, deep in thought. “Well, I did hear something.”

“Go on.”

“I heard a rumour that you like me.”

He physically shrinks back from you, leaning back on his hands, dipping his head towards his bare shoulder. You can’t be sure, in the firelight, but you swear he blushes. Then he smiles at you, his eyes dipping briefly over your torso. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his hand over the stubble at his jaw.

Neither of you seem to find this particular rumour quite so funny.

You look him steadily in the eyes, testing, looking for answers. “But that can’t be true, because you’re doing a really good job of not looking at me.”If he wanted you, if he wanted you at all, wouldn’t this be his moment. Half-naked and jubilant in the soft glow of this cave? You had to know.

“I promised you I wouldn’t look.” he says in a small voice, wringing his hands together. “Hey, our clothes are probably dry now.” he annonces, standing and moving away from you, busying himself. 

“Poe?” you call, realisation beginning to wash over you.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t do this to me.” he pleads. “Just drop it.” All his bluster gone.

Hold up, is that why? Is that why he hadn’t had anyone else back to his room? Is that why he asked Leia to team up with you on missions? He likes you?

Oh. Oh.

“Poe.” you say with clarity, “What if I want you to look at me?”

“What?” he dismisses, still flustered, embarrased.

“What if I want you to look at me.” you repeat, the desire in your voice potent.

He gulps, seeing that you’re serious, seeing the intention, the truth in your body. 

“If I want to? Are you kidding me?” he asks as if you’re ridiculous. He gulps heavily, his eyes skimming over your body in the soft firelight, snagging on your chest, your stomach, your hips, your thighs.

He juts his chin out at you, regaining some of his bravado. “I’m looking at you. And you’re gorgeous. So d’you wanna kiss me?” 

“Yes, you goofball.”

Maker, is this happening?

You close the distance between you in no time at all, and his hands wind in your hair, holding your face firmly in his warm, rough hands as he presses his soft lips against you. Finally. You smile as he hums into the kiss, your body beginning to languish feebly against him as he slips you the tongue. His mouth moves against you slowly but ravenously, as if he’s been starving for you, his tongue exploring the cave of your mouth, delicate and warming, just like the firelight which licks and dances across the cave you stand in.

Damn, he said he’d start a fire in your mouth and it had been nonsense, but now maybe you believe him: and then some; your whole body burns with lust.

Reluctantly, he breaks from you, both of you trembling, and his eyes rove over you seeking your reaction. His hands, now at your back have to practically hold you up.

“P- ohhhh, dayyymmmmm er ohhhhn.” you breathe, floored by that kiss. Boy, does his name lend itself well to exclamations of pleasure.

How had you waited this long to kiss him? You grab him by the neck and pull his hot lips to yours again, eager to make up for lost time. You practically growl as he breaks from you again.

“Um, this is getting me...excited and there aren’t many layers between us, is that ok?” His voice is husky, hollowed-out, like he’s parched for you.

“Yeah, that’s very ok.” you press your hands to his shoulders and walk him backwards, until you have him pressed up against the wall of the cave. “Except, I wish there was even less between us. Can we get rid of these silly little boxers?”

You look hungrily at the sizeable bulge causing his boxers to tent.

You drop to your knees willingly, sitting back on your heels, your palms flattened obediently to your thighs. You look up at him from beneath your lashes, your eyes indicating you are about to devour him.

“Holy fuck.” he looks wrecked already, his palms spread flat against the wall as if to steady himself.

“Relax, Dameron. I just want to suck you off, is that gonna be ok?”

Maker, does you talking dirty like that turn him on in new ways.

“Yes, that is very ok.”

You smile deviously and tease him for a moment, planting careful kisses on his thighs, his stomach.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got my dick so hard.” the tremor in his voice is such a turn on.

He brings a shaky hand to the back of your head and drives your face into his crotch, where you can feel his stiff length straining against you. You open your mouth and moan into him, hoping he can feel the warmth he’s missing -for now- from your hot, sweet breath filtering through the fabric. You feel his erection twitch enthusiastically against your face.

You move to free him, stretching his waistband until you are able to wind a hand around his length and unveil him. “Fuck me” he says in response to your touch, already throbbing against your hand. His cock is big and thick and pretty, the smooth head already beading with precum. You palm him and bring the tip of his cock to your lips. Of course you part them for him, flicking your wet tongue around the head.

Maker. You know he never shuts up but you hadn’t expected him to be so vocal. You take a moment to look up at him, at his hot, almost naked body laid out for you, his eyes already fluttering closed, his mouth open with wrangled moans which echo around the cave. It’s so fucking hot.

It makes you even more hungry to taste him, to work your tongue against every countour of him, smooth head, veined shaft, to have you lips wrapped around him as he bucks deep into you. Fuck. He’s completely at your mercy.

“Look at me.” you urge him. And he grunts in need, watches you as he winds his hand in your hair and you dip your head along his shaft tantalisingly slowly, running your tongue along him as you do, feeling every inch of him disappear into your mouth. You adminster a few, slow dips of your head, all the way down, until he is wet. And then you pull back, swirling your tongue around the head of him, teasing him until he is needy and practically bucking his hips into you, needing desperately to piston his cock in and out of you. When you’re satisfied you’ve teased him enough, you take him all again, moaning on him, enjoying him filling you. Enjoying Poe Dameron in your mouth, taking him deeper than you might have thought possible.

His moans are delicious, telling you he is enjoying the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth too. More wrangled sounds, your hands gripping his strong, trembling thighs tightly. You know he’s close.

“Y/N” he groans. “I’m gonna- can I, in your mouth?”

You hum affirmatively with him still deep in you, squeezing the base of him firmly with your hand. He comes almost instantly, knees close to buckling as he spasms in pleasure and you feel his cock pump his seed out of him and into the back of your throat. You swallow it down eagerly, sucking every drop from him.

He lets out a long, satisfied exhale, and you hold his hips as he twitches with aftershocks.

Finally, you pull off of him, your mouth and his cock still connected by spit trails. Your lips plumped by his cock and glistening with wetness.

You grin widely at him. “Yum,” you praise.

He can’t speak for a while. He’s got nothing. You’ll have to remember that if you ever need to shut him up. Which is at least 5 times a day, usually.

When he stops looking like he’s seeing stars and you’re confident he’s not going to keel over -it seemed touch and go for a hot minute- you stand up and wrap your arms tenderly around his waist, your hands carressing his smooth, tan skin.

“Fuck. I didn’t think you even liked me.” he says when he can speak again, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “I thought you were immune to my charms.”

“I’m not fussed about you, Dameron, I just wanted to see if you really had an alien dick.

He laughs into your neck, the sound blissfully familiar but the sensation -this closeness- new.

“I hope you weren’t disappointed.”

He kisses along your collarbone.

“Nah, you have quite the schlong. But... I do want to explore another rumour I heard.”

“What’s that?”

“That you can go all night.”

As if by magic the communicator flutters to life and they let you know they’re five minutes out.

“Promise me you’ll hold that thought?” he pleads, as you reluctantly dress, planting plenty of kisses on each other’s lips in between layers.

“Do you think they’ll know what we just did?”

“Ooh, we might start a rumour.” you laugh, joyously. 

“That Y/N gives the best head in the galaxy? I sorta wanna keep that secret all to myself.”

In your bubble, you hadn’t noticed Finn and Rey round the corner to the mouth of the cave - not until it was too late.

“Ew, too much information Dameron!” Finn exclaims, recoiling.

Fuck.

Poe looks horrified for a moment and then just shrugs.

“You know what, I’m not even sorry.”

He’s just happy you finally caved.

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is chapter 12. Poe is away helping his ex girlfriend Zorii Bliss get her mother home safely.

After his revelation regarding the nature of their relationship you left to go live with a friend.

Were you overreacting or do you have good reason to be nervous?

Warnings, XXX smut, female ejaculation, talk of death and violence. Injuries from said violence. Lol. Not for anyone under 18.

Kijimi, present day

After an intense battle with the mandalorian that had captured Zorii's mother Zeva she's home in one piece.

The same could not be said about the bounty hunter, they were left in multiple pieces.

Zorii and Poe were both injured. Poe was worse off, though. He had suffered burns to his arms, back and shoulders.

All thanks to a flamethrower.

Zorii was tending to his injuries aboard the spice freighter, cleaning and bandaging him up. Her gentle touch made him close his eyes from pleasure.

"Thank you so much for helping us". Zorii told him with a slight smile. "You were the only person that could have done it".

"We're quite a team, aren't we?" Poe tells her with a slight laugh as he winced from pain.

"Yes we are". Zorii replied with a laugh. "We both kicked ass".

"I'm back together with y/n". Poe explained. "She's expecting my child and we were going to get married soon".

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking". Zorii asked, her smile fading.

"I told her about us, and she got jealous". He told her with a deep sigh.

"That was 20 years ago, we're ancient history". Zorii told him with a laugh. "I still love you but in a different way".

"I feel the same way too". Poe said with a slight smile. "I'll always love you".

"She's going to kick your ass even more when she sees these gnarly burns". She told him with a laugh. "But in all seriousness let me know if you do get married and when the baby is born".

Meanwhile back on D'Qar

Your friend convinced you to go back home, and you did.

He's been gone 5 days but it felt more like a year.

You're feeling more like you're pregnant too. Morning sickness has hit you hard, you spend at least 2 hours every morning throwing up.

You're exhausted too, you spend half the day asleep.

Certain smells trigger it too, your breasts are so tender that you can barely tolerate a bra against your skin.

And the weight gain is frustrating too. You have never felt more undesirable in your entire life.

You were napping on the couch when Poe walked through the door.

He was surprised, and relieved, to see you there.

Poe leaned down and kissed you tenderly on the lips, your eyes fluttered open and with a slight smile you whisper,

"Poe, you're home safe".

"Yes I am babe, I've missed you". Poe said with a slight smile as he sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel pregnant". You tell him with a slight laugh. "I'm having awful morning sickness and my breasts hurt".

"I was burnt to a crisp but her mother is home safe". Poe told you with a laugh.

He removes his shirt and you gasp in horror at the extent of his injuries, his back is covered in one solid, white bandage.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad". He continued, closing his eyes from pain. "I'll have scarring but I should heal fairly quickly".

"Mmmm scars are sexy". You tell him with a slight grin as you gently kiss him.

"You really think so?" Poe asks, smiling sweetly.

"I know so". You tell him with a slight laugh.

"I feel like relaxing in bed, I'm exhausted, what do you think?" Poe says with a smile as he kisses you back.

Once inside the confines of your bedroom you undress, Poe is watching you, and smiling.

"I see a hint of a bump". He said with a smile.

"Really? You do?" You ask, smiling a little as you give your belly an affectionate pat.

Poe stands up, leans down and kisses your barely there bump, his soft lips feel great against your bare skin.

His kisses keep going lower and lower, you giggle a little and say,

"I thought you were exhausted?"

"I lied to get you in here". Poe confesses with a devilish smirk on his gorgeous face. "I've been thinking about eating your pussy since I left base".

He picked you up and gently placed you on the bed.

Acting on instinct you spread your legs for him, Poe begins to teasingly kiss your inner thighs, the heavy stubble on his face is rough but feels good against your smooth skin.

He doesn't tease that day, instead he goes straight for what he was craving the most.

Your intricate folds are already wet and swollen for him, you can feel the soft curls on his head brush against your thigh as Poe starts to lick and suck on your highly sensitive, swollen bud.

You tense up from the release that you can feel building in your body, when you cum you gush a lot of warm fluid on his face.

Poe licks his lips, tasting your essence.

"My cock is so hard, damn". He confessed as he mounted you and slid his magnificent manhood inside of you in one stroke.

With your legs wrapped around his waist tightly Poe fucks you, soft and then hard as you beg him to pound you.

You're being careful not to touch his bandaged back, but it's difficult.

You accidentally brush his injured skin, causing him to wince in pain, but he composes himself again and finishes deep inside of you.

When you sit up Poe's thick load spills out of you, he leans over to kiss your breasts and takes one of your hard nipples into his mouth but you cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asks, looking a little concerned.

"You did but it's normal, my breasts are very tender right now". You explain, kissing him back softly.

"I can't wait for our baby to be here". Poe tells you as he plants a few soft kisses on the soft skin of your neck. "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl".

"I have an odd feeling that we're having a baby boy". You tell him as you kiss him back. "A mini version of you".

"That would be wonderful". He replies, smiling brightly and touching your barely there bump. "The little guy can't be here soon enough, I want to see and hold him so badly".

"We need to get married before it's too obvious". You tell him with a slight laugh. "I don't want to be the knocked up bride".

"But you are the knocked up bride". Poe tells you with a smile as he bursts into laughter.

"Well, yeah, but noone has to know it". You explain, laughing heartily.

"Next week we're going back home". Poe says with a smile. "I have a surprise for you".

End of chapter 12

[kaider-is-my-otp]

Shaving

Just realized I posted this on ao3 but not here, so... This was also my first fic, oops.

Kai is stalling, so Cinder helps him look presentable. Cute Kaider fluff. 

When Cinder woke up, Kai’s side of the bed was empty. That wasn’t anything unusual- as an emperor, he was usually the first one up. She knew Kai still hadn’t left for his office for another work day because she heard water running in the bathroom sink through the open door.

She yawned and stretched in her boyfriend’s large comfy bed, thinking for a moment if she could stay there for entire day. Deciding it would be hugely inappropriate for a queen to roll in bed all day, she swung her legs to the side and slowly got up. Feeling dizzy for a second, she pulled down her shirt- actually, it was one of Kai’s old shirts that she tends to sleep in whenever she visits the palace- and made her way toward the bathroom.

Cinder pushed the door and saw Kai standing above the sink. He was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, not in his fancy imperial attire he had to wear for meetings. His hair was messy as usual, falling slightly across his forehead. When Kai saw her reflection in the mirror, he gave her one of his breathtaking smiles. Cinder thought he was absolutely beautiful.

“Morning,” he said, turning around to wrap his arms around her and pull her into the bathroom.

Cinder gave him a peck on the lips and pushed few strands of hair that fell on his forehead. “Good morning. I thought you’d already be gone by now.”

Kai shrugged his shoulders. “I may be stalling a little bit.”

“You know you’re going to be late for that meeting if you don’t hurry up? We don’t want Torin and Prime Minister Bromstad going mad because of you.”

“They’ll be fine,” he said in a nonchalant voice and lowered his head into the crook of Cinder’s neck. “I just need few minutes with you and then I’ll be ready for the day.”

Cinder smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed few kisses into her neck, knowing well enough where her most sensitive spots are. Cinder breathed out and tightened her grip around him. She glanced over his shoulder and saw the reason why water was running earlier. Sink was filled with warm water and next to it stood few items that gave Cinder a clear image why Kai was stalling.

She bit her lip to stop the grin. “You’re stalling because you don’t feel like shaving, do you?”

Kai’s lips on her neck turned upwards. “I just don’t feel like doing it,” he murmured.

Cinder sighed, knowing how much it bothered him sometimes to be perfectly groomed and neat at all times. As a queen, she understood the pressure. She placed her palm on one of Kai’s cheeks, feeling slight stubble on her skin.

“You know you can’t go to the meeting like that.”

Kai lifted his head, turning it to press light kiss on the palm that was still on his face. “I know. Torin would send me right back. I was mentally preparing myself to do it when you came in and distracted me.”

She didn’t let his smirk and smooth talk change her train of thoughts. “Come on, Kai. You know I would pay to wear cargo pants all day and have grease spots on my face, but we have to at least look presentable.”

“Are you saying I don’t look presentable like this?” He smiled, but Cinder noticed a tinge of uncertainty in his voice.

She smiled and kissed both of his cheeks, feeling the hairs under her lips. “You’re as handsome as ever, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re an emperor and it is expected of you to look like one.”

Kai sulked for a second, kissed her forehead and turned around to shave. Cinder stared at him for a second, then walked towards the wide sink. She put both her hands on the marble top of the sink cabinet and lifted herself up so she can comfortably sit and watch Kai. Goosebumps rose on her bare leg as she was wearing only Kai’s old shirt, but her metal leg didn’t feel the cold of the marble top.

Kai gave her a questioning look with raised eyebrow as he leaned down and rinse his face with warm water. He grabbed a towel to dry his face a bit, casting another distasteful look at the shaving equipment that stood next to Cinder.

“I can help you if you want,” Cinder said without a lot of thinking, observing all the bottles and razors that lay next to her.

“Really?” Kai asked, sounding surprised she suggested that.

“Of course,” Cinder said, now looking up at him. “I’ve seen you do it before. Besides, Thorne does it, so how hard can it be?”

Kai smiled and tossed the towel on the other side of the counter. “True. All right, love. I give you official permission to ruin my face.”

Cinder frowned at him and kicked him in the knee with her metal foot. Lightly, of course. She started picking all the bottles that were next to her, reading at the same time magazine article on how to shave guy’s beard that she downloaded in her head.

“Hm, no, this is an aftershave, it’s too early for that,” she muttered to herself. “Do I need a shaving cream or gel? I guess cream would be easier…”

Kai kissed her temple, took one tall bottle and gave it to her. “Here, go with this one,” he said with a barely covered laughter in his voice.

Cinder took a bottle from him and pulled at his shirt so that he now stood between her knees. She removed the cap and pressed the nozzle till the almond-size dollop was on the palm.

“Uh, this is going to get all in my joints,” she said as she rubbed her metal hand and flesh hand together to get the foamy texture. Once she was happy, she started applying cream evenly on areas of Kai’s face that needed to be shaved.

All that time, Kai didn’t move an inch, as he looked at her in awe, with mouth hanging slightly open. He placed his hands on Cinder’s thighs and moved closer to her. She tried to ignore the warmth that came with his closeness, focused completely on her mission.

Once she was done, she leaned back a bit to look at him. He looked a little bit ridiculous with white shaving cream on half of his face and neck, but still somehow irresistible with the small smile playing on his lips. She nodded, content with her work and dipped her hands into the sink to wash away the remains of cream.

“Alright, now I let it sit for few minutes, right?” she asked and Kai nodded, looking at her like she was the most adorable thing he has seen in his life.

Cinder rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips. She was suddenly much more aware of Kai’s warm hands on her bare thighs as he traced little patterns and circles with his thumbs. She lifted her hand and swept away few more too long hairs that fell on his forehead.

“You might need at haircut soon too,” she said in a low voice as she pushed her fingers through his soft hair.

Even after years spent together and seeing him as much as their respected obligations allowed them, she still wasn’t completely used to the fact that this boy was hers. That he wanted her as much as she wanted him. When she would start to feel uncertain and doubt herself, Kai could almost sense it, even if he was on Earth and she was on Luna. He would give her a pep talk through the portscreen, ending every call with declarations of love that were now completely normal to them, almost a reflex.

“I love you.” She felt the need to say it.

Kai smiled, his copper brown eyes shining. “I love you, too.”

They stared at each other for few more seconds, smiles wide on both their faces. Then Cinder turned and searched for a razor. She found it and looked at Kai, feeling uncertain for the first time.

“What if I cut you?”

Kai let out a short laugh and shook his head. “I’d be surprised if you don’t. Stars know I’ve cut myself ten times first time I shaved.”

“That must have been quite a sight,” Cinder said, laughing at the thought.

“You have no idea. My father and Torin almost had a heart attack,” he said, smiling at the memory. He took Cinder’s hand that held the razor. “Here, let me show you.”

His hand was around her wrist and he pressed the razor blade on his cheek, not too firm or too light. He guided her hand as they made a gentle stroke across Kai’s cheek.

“There, it’s not that hard,” he said and rinse the blade under the water. “Now you try.”

Cinder took the blade from him, took a deep breath and repeated the process Kai just showed her. Her hand was a bit unsteady at the beginning, but she quickly got used to the feeling and found a perfect amount of pressure to put on Kai’s sensitive skin. A spark of pride grew in her as she made light, gentle strokes, reveling perfectly shaved skin underneath.

She did cut him, though. Only once, when she lowered her hand to shave a part of his neck, but didn’t hit the right angle. Kai let out a small gasp and Cinder knew she had cut him.

“Stars, I’m sorry. I knew I didn’t get this one right.” She ducked her head to see the damage. Kai reached with his hand and wiped away a small droplet of blood.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing. It’s under the chin anyway, so no one will even see it. It might be easier if you pull the skin down. The blade will glide smoother.”

She did as he said and pulled lightly at his skin with her cyborg hand. Kai didn’t even flinch when the cold metal touched him, already used to the feeling. She gave him no more injuries as she continued to work on all the delicate angles of his face.

Once there was no more white cream on his face and she was sure she shaved every part, she set the razor aside and reached for the towel next to her. She opened the faucet and soaked it. Then she put wet towel on his face, cleaning the leftovers of the cream.

Kai tucked his hands under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the counter, closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the lips. Cinder kissed him back, trying to stay focus on his face, not his lips. But it was to no avail. Warnings flashed across her retina display as Kai deepened the kiss, pulling her so close their chest were pressed together. Cinder circled her arms around his neck, playing with strands of his hair. Wet towel fell to the floor with a quiet slap.

“Aftershave,” Cinder mumbled against Kai’s lips. “I need to put you an aftershave.”

“Mhm,” was all Kai said before he captured her lips again. She didn’t complain.

They finally separated few minutes later, Cinder catching her breath and Kai flushed deep red on the tips of his ears. He pressed another small kiss on her nose, then moved away from her to rinse his face above the sink. When he was done, he grabbed the bottle of aftershave and gave it to Cinder.

She open the cap and poured a small amount on her right hand, the cold liquid instantly cooling her palm. She rubbed it gently into Kai’s skin, feeling his soft skin under her palm.

“Done,” she said and leaned back to marvel her work. He truly looked beautiful. His skin was clean and almost glowing, so tender to the touch. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

Kai looked at his reflection in the mirror and nodded in approval. “I’m impressed. I don’t know why, though, since there’s nothing you can’t do perfectly the first time.” He looked at her and flashed her a knowing grin. Cinder was sure if could blush, she would be flaming red right now.

“You should go get dressed,” she said and nudged him with her leg. She hopped off the counter, washed her hands in the sink and left the bathroom. Kai was right behind her as he walked toward his closet to get dressed.

Cinder flopped on the bed, sneaking a peek at Kai through the open doors of the dressing room as he was changing. She caught a glimpse of his bare back when he took off his shirt. Nerves in her brain hummed and it took every ounce of self-control not to pull him on the bed next to her. He needed to go to the meeting.

“Will I see you at lunch?” Kai asked after few minutes when he walked out of the dressing room, dressed in a fit appropriate for an emperor.

“Sure. I just have to call Winter to check the situation on Luna, but other than that I’m free.” She got up from bed, grabbing clean clothes for herself and getting ready for a warm shower.

Kai came behind her and hugged her. He rested his head on her shoulder and pressed a kiss at the side of her neck. “I’ll miss you when you leave in few days.”

Cinder grunted at his sugary sweet voice. “I’m sure you’ll only miss my amazing shaving skills.”

“That too.” Kai laughed into her neck. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed when he saw what time it was. “Now I really have to go or Torin will be here any second.”

He kissed the side of her head and made his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he stopped and glanced at Cinder. He walked towards her again, wrapped her in another hug and kissed her one more time.

Cinder smiled under his lips. When Kai finally pulled away, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Now I can go.”

[owillofthewisps]

slow like honey

notes: other than my recent 'mouths, utterly lovely' one shot, i haven’t written smut in...a long time, so i’ve decided to ease myself back into it.  get a little less rusty, y’know? the urban flora ep from alina baraz and galimatias - a fav - was on repeat while i was writing this. title is from fiona apple's song of the same name.

rating: explicit.  pwp.

pairing: geralt/female reader

word count: 2,144

summer, you think, is all wet, indolent heat, and you have always reveled in it.

The honey wine is thick on your tongue.

It tastes of summer days, rich with golden sunshine and edged with a dizzying heat, with a soft touch of the sticky sweetness of night-blooming flowers. Summer itself has settled over the city, all syrupy, humid air hanging heavy against your skin, leaving a sheen of sweat behind that catches the flickering candlelight.

The wine drapes over you, trailing little glimmers of sensation in its wake.  A flash of bone white catches your eye, and everything goes heavy, the breath before a storm.  You meet Geralt’s gaze - those eyes darkening now, the very corner of his lips lilting with something hungry - and the air crackles.

You smile over the rim of your wine goblet, licking at a stray drop that trickles down the side.  “Fuck,” he mutters, and then his mouth is hungry on yours, his large hands cradling your head.  You part your lips with a light laugh, setting your goblet down so that you can weave your hands into his hair, the white strands spilling through your fingers like fresh snowfall.  

One of his hands drops to your waist and tightens, pulling you up just enough to press against him, the thin material of your nightdress going taut over the map of your body.  

“Summer,” Geralt breathes against your lips, his voice gone to gravel, “is far too good a look on you.  It’s distracting.”

Summer brings the indolence out in you, all lazy, sunlit mornings and herb-scented baths that you linger in until the water is stone cold, the promise tucked into the corner of your lips as you rise from the water a temptation all its own. Nights pass like slow honey, the cooling air a blessing against your bare skin, the cloying scent of honeysuckle heady on the breeze.  

“Ah,” you murmur.  “I shall strive to look worse.”

“I’d prefer to just keep you in bed,” Geralt says.

He kisses any reply you might have out of you, teases your words away with his lips and tongue, his stubble scraping softly against your cheek. Heat blooms, low in your stomach, the edges of it made more robust by the wine’s soft touch.  You gasp into his mouth, feel the pleased tilt of his lips against yours, and catch his bottom lip with your teeth, grazing against the soft, delicate flesh.

The sound that rumbles from Geralt makes something in you go tight.  He pushes harder into the kiss, like he cannot get enough, and you press in close against him, feel the heat of his broad form soak through your thin nightshirt.

Geralt kisses his way across your jawline, nipping at the junction of your jaw and neck, the soft prick of pain melting down your spine.  You tilt your head back with a lazy hum as he lays a biting kiss on the side of your neck.  His large hand trails down, leaving smoldering embers in its wake, and your thin nightdress crinkles as he bunches the hem of it in one hand.

“Geralt,” you murmur, running a thumb over his cheekbone.  He turns into the touch so that your thumb grazes over his lips.  You feel just the slightest hint of his teeth.  You suck in a sharp breath and pull him back to your mouth, drink from his lips.  You wonder if you are sweet with wine to him.

His hand slides up your stomach to cup your breast, his fingers warm and firm against you, his thumb stroking circles around your nipple as it tightens, pebbling under the thin cotton separating your skin from his.  The rasp of fabric bolsters the feeling, sends electricity sparking down your spine.  The moan that slips from you makes Geralt’s hand tighten, his fingers flexing on your breast.  

You set your teeth against his neck, suck marks into the column of his thick, pale throat.  

“Fuck,” Geralt grunts.

You can still feel his hand hovering near your hip, your hem caught in his fist, his knuckles pressed against your skin.  The summer air swirls up against you as he bares more of it, his mouth greedy against the salt of your skin.  

The nightdress hadn’t been much of an obstacle to begin with, a flimsy thing made of thin fabric, something worn only for a hint of modesty in summer’s sweltering nights, but Geralt strips it from you as if it had been armor.  As it flutters to the ground, he pushes you back against the bed.  

You sink into it with a laugh, but the sound fades into a sigh as Geralt smoothes a hand up your thigh, his thumb skating across the crease in your thigh as his fingers splay across your hip.  He presses a kiss against your hip bone, just a hint of teeth peeking between his lips, and your breath hitches.

Geralt rises to loom over you, his arms caging you in against the bed.  Like this, he is consuming, his broad frame filling your world, leaving nothing but him.  His white hair falls like a curtain as he leans down to kiss you, the pearly strands separating you and him from the rest of the world.  You arch up into the kiss, meet him with teeth and tongue and want.

“You’re slow tonight,” you murmur against him, lips tilting up at the corners.  Geralt tends towards wildfire, kindling pleasure with teeth and tongue and fingers as flint until it catches and burns, spreading fast.

A chuckle rumbles through him.  “It’s summer,” he tells you.  “And what is it you like so much about summer, again?”

You press a kiss against his jawline and slide a hand under his shirt, skating your fingertips over the hard planes of his stomach, ignoring the constellations of scars mapped over his skin.  He seems to like it better that way.  “Summer,” you breathe, running your thumb over his nipple and raising your head to catch his mouth once more, “is wet, and slow, and full of heat.”

His chest heaves beneath your hand; his heart is not pounding, but you have learned enough about a Witcher’s heartbeat to recognize when you’ve managed to elevate it.  You reach for the laces of his breeches, but he nudges you away.

“Heat,” Geralt muses, dragging a thumb along the crease of your hip, dropping a kiss on your collarbone, the swell of your breast, grazing his teeth along your stomach.  You whine.  Each touch is an ignited ember, heat flaring out around each point of contact, but they are fleeting glances of his skin against yours.  

“Slow,” he says, his hair trailing against your stomach in a ghostly touch as he cups your cunt with one hand, the heel of his palm providing only the slightest hint of pressure.  You roll against him, the pleasure that’s been simmering just beneath your skin sparking up into something stronger.  He stills there, pinning your hips down with his other arm slung low over your torso as they try to rise, and the kiss he presses low on your hip feels smug.  

“Geralt.”

He peers up at you, the candlelight casting shadows that sharpen his features, his jawline cut from stone in the low light. His amber eyes are dark and warm, like sunlight filtering through whisky.  The low laugh that slips from him stirs against the delicate skin just above your cunt.  

“Wet,” Geralt hums, and then his tongue is tracing across your skin, the path meandering low.  You hiss out a breath and arch, but he keeps you pinned in place with a simple flex of his arm. The hand cupping you shifts, spreads you, and his fingertips find you slick, slick, slick.

“And you are so wet,” he murmurs, lips curving into a pleased smirk against your skin.

You choke on your retort as he finally dips his mouth to your cunt, the tip of his tongue teasing you apart to flicker against your clit. The heat of his mouth settles into the marrow of you, sends flames skittering through your bones until the burn of the pleasure settles at the bottom of your spine.

His mouth is heavy on you, each lick at the core of you languid, the flat of his tongue sweeping through your cunt and collecting your slick.  

“Fuck, Geralt!”

He grunts as you fist a hand in his white locks, wrapping the thick, ivory strands around your fingers and tugging.  His tongue is clever.  He knows you well, too, knows the way your hips flex before they try to push up, knows to press tight, firm circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue before sliding the blade of his tongue down and into you.  

You twist beneath him as he works you, and fuck, when he glances up at you, his eyes finding yours over your heaving chest - his mouth urgent now, the red slick of his lips catching the firelight just right, the sheen of them obscene in the low light - you draw in a breath through your teeth, your thighs tensing around his head.  

Geralt tightens his grip on you.  You can see the play of muscles in his shoulders, in his arms, his massive form rippling as he holds you in place.  The moan trickles out of you as he presses a thick finger into you, your cunt clenching around him as he stretches you open.  He scrapes his teeth over your cunt with delicacy, sucks at you, and the summer’s heat has faded now, is nothing compared to the sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you.  You can feel the hair at your nape sticking against your skin as you arch, fingers tightening against Geralt’s skull and pulling him closer, pressing your head back against the bed, straining your neck as you gasp.

Another finger slides into you, and Geralt laps at where he’s spreading you wide.  You flutter around him, and the curse that leaves him is guttural, the gravel of it vibrating against your wet cunt.  

He twists his thick fingers, curves them in the way you like, and his lips return to you, wrap around your clit as he sucks until your legs are shaking against him.  

“Please,” you find yourself saying, as your muscles tremble, as you clench around him, your fingers so tight in his hair that the strands are indenting your flesh.  “Geralt.”

“Fuck,” he rumbles.  “Fuck, you are always so good.”

Your breath catches in your throat.  Geralt thrusts his fingers hard, once, twice, and works your clit with his mouth until lightning strikes home, crackling across your nerves with white heat.  The sound you make as you come is filthily indulgent, all smoke and salt, and the sound it tears out of Geralt in return makes you shudder.

He keeps his mouth steady on you, gentler now, his tongue easing you through your orgasm.  You hiss as the pleasure rolls into something sharp-edged, prickling at the edge of pain, and Geralt pulls away as your fingers flex in your hair.  

He presses a kiss against your inner thigh and slinks back up the bed to you - his shirt and breeches rasping against your skin as he moves, the bulge in his breeches pressing briefly against your cunt - as you prop yourself up on your elbows, chest still heaving.  Geralt settles down next to you. You meet his kiss and taste yourself, a sharp tang against the lingering sweetness of the honey wine.  It’s a languid kiss, Geralt mapping your mouth out once more.

“Gods,” you mutter when he finally pulls away, reaching out with a trembling hand for your goblet.  “You’re not even undressed.”

Geralt chuckles, low and deep.  He watches as you drink deeply from the goblet, the honey wine sweet and refreshing.  You toss the goblet somewhere onto the bed after draining it and reach for the laces of his breeches.  He catches you before you can undo them and swings himself over you.

You huff your irritation and glance up at him.  

“You’ve drunk your fill, I think,” Geralt says, his eyes dark. He strokes a thumb across your knuckles before dropping your hand and gently pushing you flat against the bed once more.  He bends down, his hair raising goosebumps in its wake as it trails gently over your skin, hooks his thick arms around your thighs, and heaves you higher on the bed.  You yelp in surprise, the sound pulled out of you.  He grunts, amused, and noses against your hip bone, his tongue darting out to skim along your skin.  You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“You’ve drunk your fill,” Geralt says again, gazing up at you with those honey eyes, his mouth just above your cunt, his lips still red and shining wet, and you feel yourself clench.

“But I am still thirsty.”

taglist: @fairytale07 @1950schick

[frostsinth]

The Bard’s Bounty  - Pt. 5

Part 1|2|3|4

The hunter’s wound becomes infected and makes her feverish. She can’t remember who she is or what’s going on. But hey, that face looks so familiar...

A fun little part to write; sorry its short. A bit gooey and mushy. Little foreshadowing and hinting. Hopefully you guys like it! As long as there’s interest, I’ll keep posting updates.

I couldn’t say where I was. I saw the shadows around me, heard the muffled voices. One I recognized, with painful familiarity, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Like cold water had been poured down my back, and the chill rattled me to my core.

I struggled, fighting against the binds that held me. Fighting to find that voice in the shadows. The muffled sounds grew angry, the sound of pottery shattering and furniture being tossed about.

I blinked, and could see it again. The tiny little hole, the thin beam of light that streamed down through the wooden floorboard. Catching swirling dust motes in its wake. Fear constricted my throat. Pounded against my ribcage so hard I thought my bones would break. The scream came next; as I knew it would. I cupped my hands over my ears, dropping my head to cradle between my knees. No… No, not again, I thought to myself. Everything was shaking, the world seemed to rattle and fall apart around me.

A small part of me screamed silently. Struggled against whatever always seemed to hold me back. Like ropes around my arms. Like a bag over my head. Struggled to charge out of my hiding spot. To warn them. To save them. Desperate to change the past.

The heat from the blaze filled me. It licked at my feet, bit at my face. Swallowed me up in char and smoke. Then I did scream. I screamed so loud I thought I would choke on the sound. But still no one heard me. It was too late. It was always too late.

“Hey now, stop that,” Came a deep voice, heavy and thick. “Come back to me, come on!���

I shook my head, my thoughts swimming. Sounds around me were still muffled, and there was an icy chill against my skin. But I still felt the flames licking at me, still felt its burning embrace. I gasped, struggling to breathe through the imaginary smoke. Sucking at ash ladened air.

My hands became free, and I flailed them about uselessly, trying to beat out the fire. Trying to find some sort of purchase in the waking world. Something firm grabbed me, catching my arms, stilling them. I struggled against it, tossing my head back. I kicked at whatever grabbed me, and heard a grunted “umph!”.

“Listen to me, listen!” Came that voice again. Like honey mixed with rum; smokey and sweet. Thick and strong. I felt as if my mind flopped back and forth, but clung desperately to the sound. “Hey, come on now, stop kicking for a second. What are you, five?”

I had the sensation of being lifted up, off the ground, then suddenly a great heavy warmth surrounded me. It was firm and solid, and everywhere it touched me my skin felt a little cooler. I panted, turning towards it. Confused, lost. Seeking some sort of grip in my consciousness. Trying desperately to anchor myself. I suddenly became aware of my eyes again, and tried to open them. Fighting against the fog surrounding me and burying my thoughts as quickly as I could dig them out. I blinked rapidly, and felt as if I was lifting stones with each eyelid. But I managed. I took in a deep breath through my mouth, and tasted a damp tanginess. Like the salt in the air by the sea. I reached my hand out, and connected with something solid, but soft. I spread my fingers out over it, searching it. Trying to find its edge.

A deep chuckle rumbled against my ear, and I could feel it in my own chest.

“I don’t think you’re quite with me, yet, so I’m going to let this one slid, hmm?”

That voice. I knew that voice. But I couldn’t place it. Slowly, more of my senses were returning, though my memory lingered in the fog. The firmness beneath my palm? It was skin, I realized. Soft, warm, subtle skin. I lightened my touch, blinking at my fingers tracing over the bare flesh. Green. It was a dark, olive green. My cradle, the strong weight around me. Arms, I recognized. Huge arms, nearly as large as I was wide. But gentle. Very gentle.

In one ear, I heard the gentle pattering of a heavy rain. In the other, a drum with two beats, playing a rhythmic pattern. No… not a drum I realized after another moment. A heartbeat. I closed my eyes, sighing slightly and drawing in a slow breath through my nose. Damp air, the smell of rain on earth. And a muskyness. Not altogether unpleasant. Strangely comforting.

My hand moved again, searching, tracing up along the skin. It found an edge, and followed it. Bone, a jaw. Soft stubble underneath my fingertips.

I opened my eyes and looked up. My hand cupped his jaw, and big brown eyes filled my vision. I felt compelled to lay my palm against his skin, trace my thumb along his cheek. Pulling myself back to the present. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with those big brown eyes through dark lashes. I frowned a little. No matter how much I looked at him, I couldn’t place him. I glanced at his large tusks, his broad, square chin. Reached up and touched the thick dreads that dangled down.

He smirked a little, but otherwise watched me quietly. I sighed, and my eyes fluttered. My hand suddenly felt weak, and I let it drop back down. Cupping it against myself. I tucked my cheek against his chest, staring up at him intermittently between my eyes rolling off. It was like I couldn’t control them. 

Everything burned. Hot. Hot in my head. Hot on my skin. Hot in my chest. I felt like I was boiling and bubbling. And I couldn’t see right through the smoke. But his skin, while warm, was cooler than mine. I traced one muscle on his bare chest with my fingertip.

A big meaty hand came up, pushing my own damp hair out of my face.

“You’ve got a fever,” The deep voice told me softly, perhaps a little anxiously, “You’re burning up... We have to get your temperature down… Come on.”

Then I felt the sensation of being lifted up. The gentle sway of a walking gait. A moment later, hazy sunlight splashed on my face. And then the rain poured down on me.

At first, it ran down my forehead and hair, into my ears and down my chest between my breasts to pool in my top unhindered. It felt cool, and refreshing. I opened my mouth slightly, felt my head fall back. It splattered against my throat, dripped into my eyes. A moment later, I sputtered, then shook. Spraying water everywhere. Coming a little more out of my fog.

It took only a minute or two more to be drenched, and the hot flames seemed to die down a little. I swore I could see steam rise from my skin wherever a droplet of water hit. I still couldn’t make sense of myself, or anything else. I flailed momentarily, then reached up and weakly clung to him, wrapping my arms as far as I could around his neck.

I was rewarded with a small, lopsided smile. I knew that smile. I knew that I did. But I still couldn’t place it. I stared at him blankly, and he met my gaze. Frozen, if only for a moment.

Then he turned, and ducked his head to avoid hitting it on the rocks. Slowly carrying me back into the cave.

A small fire flickered in its center, splashing warm yellow and orange light upon the stones. He settled beside it, still cradling me gently.

His huge hand came back up, and he pressed his palm against my forehead. I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation.

“Feels a bit better.” He said approvingly, then seemed to hesitate.

Sensing it, I opened my eyes again, looking up at him. He stared for a moment, then his hand shifted. Tracing down my jaw. Brushing my hair back out of my face. When he cupped his huge palm against my cheek, I turned into it. Feeling the smooth, damp skin against my clammyness.

Clearing his throat, he withdrew his hand, shaking his head. Water splattered about, even sizzling in the fire a few feet away.

“You should try to get some more rest.”

I blinked up at him, then felt my gaze slide away. I just couldn’t seem to stay focused on anything.

“Can’t sleep…” I mumbled, and my voice sounded so faint and weak. I turned my face back into his skin. “The fire…”

“Are you still hot?” He asked gently.

I shivered, and he instinctively hugged me a little tighter. “The smoke… I can’t… I can’t reach them…” I breathed, burying my nose in his chest, breathing in his scent, “I can’t… they can’t hear me…”

“...Who can’t hear you?” He asked softly after a moment.

I groaned slightly, shifting myself. Rolling a little and shaking my head. “Run,” I called out softly, “Please run! Don’t… don’t stay for me… you won’t find me… Run..”

My shaking became more intense, more frenzied. He pulled me closer, tightening his arms around me again.

“Shh, it’s alright,” He said soothingly, his large hand stroking the back of my head. “It’s just a dream.”

I sighed, and stilled again, relaxing into his touch. “Just a dream…” I echoed, blinking stupidly. I turned, looking up at him a little, “...Are you a dream?”

That made him laugh, and the sound rumbled through his chest and against mine.

“Some women seem to think so.” He teased. Sniffing, still amused, he shook his head. “But no. Not me… I’m...well, certainly nothing good.”

I thought I saw a dark look cross over his face, but then, I couldn’t be sure of anything. I sighed again, and rested my cheek against his chest.

“I know your face,” I told him softly, closing my eyes, “... I can’t remember it right now… But... when I look at you, I hear bees.”

“Bees?” He echoed, sounding surprised.

I nodded, then struggled for a moment. Trying to pull out the sound. I hummed softly, a few notes, as deep as I could. Like the distant buzzing of bees.

Another soft chortle against my cheek. “Ah. You heard that.”

“What is it?”

I thought I could hear his smile. “A song. I was humming it earlier while you were sleeping... Do you want to hear it?”

I nodded slightly, bringing my hand up to rest against my cheek.

I felt him sigh softly, shifting himself and settling with his back against the rock. He even cleared his throat a little.

“If I could fly, across the open sea,” He sang quietly, his deep voice vibrating in his chest beside me, “I would ne’er let, you far from me; Fare thee well, oh fare thee well. I would keep, you in my heart, and we’d ne’er, be far apart; Fare thee well, oh fare thee well. My own true love, like ocean’s deep; Ne’er far, but not to keep; Fare thee well, oh fare thee well. If you would have me, if you would try; I would love you, until I die; but Fare thee well, oh fare thee well.”

I listened with my eyes closed, and couldn’t help a small smile that slid across my lips. I yawned sleepily, and rubbed at one eye.

He laughed lightly at that. “Don’t let me bore you too much.”

I shook my head, eyes still closed. “I liked it. I like the sound of your voice.”

I thought I felt him stiffen a little, but then he let out a soft breath and relaxed. “You’d be one of few.” He cleared his throat again, changing the subject. “It’s a sad song. About unrequited love.”

“I only know one song.” I admitted quietly, shifting to a slightly more comfortable position in his arms.

“Oh? Just one?” When he nodded, he continued in a teasing voice, “Care to sing it, little miss frigid?”

I thumbed through my hazy brain. Trying to pick out the words, and yawned again. I settled my cheek against his warm chest, sighing a little.

“You’re the song, in the trees, when the wind blows,” I sang quietly, “You’re a flower, you’re a river, you’re a rainbow. I loved you the first time I saw you; And I always, will love you, baby...”

There was silence for a time after my weak voice petered out. Only the soft thrum of the rain outside and the gentle thump of his heartbeat filled my ears. My breathing deepened, and I felt myself slipping gently back out of consciousness.

A soft sigh, then I felt his fingers stroking the back of my head lightly. “You have a beautiful voice… damnit…”

I felt the slightest of smiles twitch my lips again as I fell back to sleep in his arms.

...

UPDATE: Part six HERE

[deansotherotherblog]

"I have waited so long for this moment."

"Dean, no, do not screw it up--"

"Relax, Sammy. When have I ever let you leave the house looking bad?"

"Um, specifically? The Nair incident?"

Dean smiled and hummed a little laugh. "Ah. Yeah. Good times, huh, baldy?" Sam's wrist was sprained, again, and his shoulder was still swollen after Dean had to pop it back into its socket. Well past his shoulders, Sam's hair had began reaching closer to his collar bone than it ever had before. The boys started staking out a rural town for a string of killings, probably vampires, but finding the nest was particularly hard this time around. It had been three weeks since they arrived, and Sam's ends had been getting scraggly a couple of weeks before that, even with vigorous use of the good conditioner.

"You know what, never mind, I'll just leave it until we can get into a city."

"Sammy, Sammy-" Dean pulled on his brother's hair as Sam tried to escape. Sam's muscle memory made his bottom clench in response. He suppressed the memories of Dean tugging his long locks, rocking under his body.

Dean urged, "I won't screw it up. But don't you think that maybe-"

"No."

"Just the sides?"

"No."

"Ugh, fine, fine. Sit still. It's driving me nuts and I know it's driving you nuts and if you walk into that geezer's barber shop in town, you're gonna come out looking like Barney Fife."

Sam sighed. He ran his good hand through the front portion of his hair. God, he was gonna miss it if- probably when- Dean ruined it.

"Fine. Just..." Sam gave Dean a threatening look in the reflection of the motel mirror.

"Yes, yes, just make sure you'd still fit in at Woodstock."

Dean used his own comb for a long time to understand how his brother liked his layers. He'd only ever cut his own hair before, except when Sam was so young that he didn't have a reason not to trust Dean. He also didn't really care much what his hair looked like back then. Now, Dean knew The Hair was Sam's thing. Dean was the hot brother with the good car, obviously, and Sam was the tall one with The Hair.

Dean combed from front to back, from the underside of the bottom up, and from the hairline pulling up to the ceiling. He stood up straight, squatted below Sam's shoulders, and once even came inches from Sam's nose to examine. Sam opened his mouth with a slow intake of breath, either to whine or scold, when Dean cut him off with two grunts that signified "nuh-uh".

Dean could build things. He could repair things. Certainly, he could do this with as much precision. Right? Right. Yes. Absolutely. He didn't let Sam see him take a deep breath for strength as he finally grabbed the scissors.

Sam closed his eyes. He squinted so hard at first that he saw little squiggles inside his eyelids. Dean was always getting on him about having long hair. It was so long now, and it was so hot, that Sam would rather just let Dean have his way instead of dealing with it any more. Sam tried not to think about how Dean was biting his bottom lip while scheming his brother's new look.

Sam felt Dean pull away small sections of his hair with the comb, then felt the tension of the pull be snipped away with Chuck knows how much hair. Maybe the lady at the post office in Lebanon would think he was a bit more respectable after this.

Dean's fingers raked across Sam’s scalp as he took more tiny sections. He's really milking this, Sam thought miserably. Dean's fingernails took tiny passes all along his brother's head, mapping the area and marking it as his own. Minuscule piece by piece, Sam felt the tension of Dean's comb fall with the pinnacle of his physical being onto the cheap tile. He almost reveled in the feeling of letting go under Dean's control, but that was never how it was before. It was too foreign to relax into. Sam was used to having the upper hand, to being the collected puppeteer who watched Dean dance on his strings until he all but collapsed. Sam would be the one to instruct Dean to be quiet, be fast, and finally finish. 

But that was too long ago to think of now. Dean had fallen in love with and left Lisa, then Sam hit that dog and had his whole thing, but they never really talked about what they would do since they're both topside.

Sam squinted his eyes once more, then smoothed them as he tried to zone out and go over all the tidbits of information they'd gathered on the case. He tried to find patterns by taking a mental inventory of all the evidence they'd examined. He took his time mulling over victims' names, ages, wounds, locations, then dates of death.

Ok, the first victim was found on the third-

snip, snip

-and the second victim on the fourth-

snip, snip

-and the third, fourth, and fifth on the sixth-

snip

-seventh?

snip

-sixth? I don't know--how do I have any hair left for him to cut after all this time? "Dean?"

"Almost, almost!" He sounded absolutely giddy. Great, Sam probably had a mohawk or something close. Sam started to open his eyes. "Nope nope, not yet, just...hang on."

Sam let out a small "oof" as Dean's weight plopped on his lap. Dean realized in a moment that he hadn’t straddled his brother in ages, but decided not to say anything. Too weird. Sam's eyes snapped open from instinct, but the mirror was blocked from his vision. Dean didn't have the comb or the scissors anymore. His tongue stuck out between his teeth in concentration, two small lines just forming between his brows. His fingers ran along the sides of Sam's head and he pushed a lock of hair in front of Sam's vision.

Hair? Sam went cross-eyed staring at it in disbelief. The lock fell just to the end of his nose.

Dean giggled at his brother's expression. A light danced in his eyes as he smoothed the strands into a perfect wave across Sam's forehead.

"Ok, Sammy, before you freak out... I really did my best here, ok? And, for the record, I think it turned out alright." He stood up.

Sam jumped from the chair and leaned toward the mirror. He put his hand on the same piece of hair to which he bade a silent goodbye earlier to see it was only about three inches shorter. He ran his fingers through the entirety, looking for a bald spot or whatever made Dean's face look so happy with his work.

"Well?" Dean asked. Sam just opened his mouth as he continued running his fingers through his hair. "I know it's probably shorter than what you wanted, but I remember it was like this when you left college to come hunt with me again."

The bottom of his hair just reached to his neck, but stopped well before his shoulders. The layers were a little longer in places, but looked carefully constructed.

That's what took so long, Sam realized. Dean actually did do his best. He kept one hand on the back of his head, fingers lacing through the familiar texture, and slowly turned to his brother.

"I... I thought you were gonna screw me over."

"Nah, good-lookin' kid like you? Couldn't if I wanted to."

"Kid?"

"Well... that's how I still see you sometimes. Like when your hair was like this." Dean looked down. He didn't intend to get so nostalgic.

Sam chuckled, still unable to find words.

Dean looked up again. He reached out and touched where the ends of Sam's hair met his neck. "And it's hot so I thought you'd want it off your neck, you know?"

"Yeah... Thanks," he replied, breathlessly. Sam hated how his cheeks burned. Dean was just touching his head for the better part of an hour, but something about him doing it while they were facing each other felt...closer.

Dean's fingers lingered on the fresh, healthy strands. He twisted a few between his thumb and first two fingers, remembering how he used to cling to them for dear life under Sam's passion. He withheld a hum of contentment that bubbled in his chest. It had been so long since Sam looked like this, since he finally came back to Dean. They had been through so much in the years that passed, but regardless of the few differences in Sam's skin, Dean saw that same kid he picked up from Stanford.

Dean knew he held his hand there too long. When he tried to pull it back, Sam leaned forward as to not break their contact. It had been a long, complicated time since they looked at each other the way they were now.

Dean's mouth was slightly open, wanting to ask, "is this happening?" Sam's jaw was set and his eyes showed absolution as he took another step forward, placing his good hand on Dean's hip. Using just the tips of his fingers, he firmly pulled Dean's pelvis toward his own. In the same slow motion, he tilted his head down to catch Dean's lips against his. Dean eagerly reciprocated, allowing his hum to rumble through his body, vibrating from his chest into Sam's muscular torso. Sam's hand gripped Dean's side, bunching his shirt and sending electric waves up his skin.

Dean's other hand flew to the side of Sam's face. His fingertips traced a stubbly and strong jaw and Dean slightly rose off his heels, pushing deeper into the kiss. His fingers slid up the back of Sam's head, threading through his own best art piece ever. Once his fingers were entirely immersed, Dean tugged just enough to make a small sound come from Sam's throat.

"So..." Dean started quietly, catching his breath, "You like the haircut, I take it?"

[prouvaireafterdark]

Drive Me to Distraction

Buckle up for some deeply self-indulgent smut that I am not even remotely sorry for. Along the same vein as Open Up.

Also on AO3!

***

“Guerin, can I talk to you a minute?”

Michael looks up from the calculations he and Liz are working on, the end of his pen clenched between his teeth. Alex, who had been typing away on his laptop at the table across the bunker last Michael checked, is standing by their work station with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asks, taking the pen out of his mouth and twirling it between his fingers.

“Alone,” Alex clarifies, tracking the movement.

“Uh, yeah,” Michael says before asking Liz, “You got this while I’m gone?”

“I was a published research scientist long before you and your big alien brain came along, Mikey. I think I can handle a little math,” she says, her tone sarcastically amused.

Michael holds his hands up in mock surrender and gets up from the table.

Alex walks off without another word and Michael follows him mutely, wondering what Alex could want to talk to him about that he couldn’t say in front of Liz. He’s been looking into Project Shepherd, Michael knows, but Liz is part of the team; she should be informed about any developments on that front. Unless—is it about his mom? His mind is running through the possibilities a mile a minute as he follows Alex into the small bathroom, the only private place in the whole bunker.

When the door clicks shut behind them, what Michael is definitely not expecting is for Alex to spin him around and walk him backward until the porcelain sink is digging into his lower back.

“Are you teasing me on purpose,” Alex asks, voice low in his ear, “or do you really not know how fucking distracting you are?”

“Wha-?” Michael asks intelligently, his senses overloaded by the heat coming off Alex’s body and the scent of his aftershave. Alex tugs on Michael’s earlobe with his teeth, as if that will make him any more coherent. Michael has to close his eyes and count to five before he asks, “W-what do you mean?”

Alex pointedly rolls his hips into Michael’s so he can feel his erection, hot and hard in his jeans.

“Oh,” Michael says breathlessly, his own body reacting in kind as he looks down between them at the bulge in Alex’s pants.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Alex echoes.

“I did that to you, huh?” Michael asks, his hands reaching for Alex’s waist, pulling him even closer, eyes glazing over with want.

“Mhm, you and that mouth of yours,” Alex answers, eyes fixed on Michael’s lips.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Michael protests.

“Didn’t have to. I’ve been watching you suck on your pen for the last twenty minutes like you’re not supposed to be using it for something. It’s very distracting.”

Michael’s always had a pen chewing problem, the frenetic chaos in his head making him prone to fidgeting, but he never thought it would ever turn anyone on. Though, he supposes, if he saw Alex stick something vaguely cylindrical in his mouth like that he’d be hard pressed not to let his mind wander.  

Michael imagines Alex sitting across the room from him, trying and failing to do his own work as he watches the tip of Michael’s pen disappear into his mouth, a hint of tongue peeking out every now and then. The vision in his mind’s eye shifts suddenly to Alex palming his swelling cock under the table as he thinks about all the other, better things Michael could be doing with his mouth.

I can certainly come up with a few, Michael thinks, already calculating the distance between the bathroom and the main lab and the thickness of the walls surrounding them to determine whether they’re far enough away to avoid being heard. Michael licks his lips as he realizes they are, so long as they don’t shout.  

“Mm,” Michael hums. “I’m real sorry about that, Alex.”

“You are, huh?” Alex asks, doubtful amusement cracking through his expression.

“Yeah,” Michael says, looking up at him beneath his lashes. “I should really do somethin’ about it, don’t you think? Show you how sorry I am.”

Michael starts to get to his knees, but Alex stops him. Michael stands up straight again, eyebrows raised questioningly. Alex just smiles at him, naked affection softening his gaze as his hand comes to rest on Michael’s cheek, his thumb brushing against the stubble there.

“You’re not obligated to do anything about this, you know that, right? I mostly just wanted to ask you to take mercy on me and keep your pen out of your mouth, but I got a little carried away,” Alex confesses, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. “You can go back to your calculations now if you want, I can take care of it myself.”

Michael huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he leans in to kiss him, slow and dirty enough to make his intentions very, very clear. When he pulls away, Alex’s pupils have well and truly blown, his gaze locked on Michael’s mouth.

“That is very sweet of you, Alex,” Michael says, bringing his hand between them to squeeze Alex’s cock through the dark denim of his jeans. His smug smile widens as Alex’s eyes slip closed and his hips press into his touch. “But if I don’t get my mouth on you in the next five seconds I’m going to spontaneously combust.”

Alex swallows and Michael watches his throat work, transfixed.

“What are you waiting for then?”

In one smooth movement, Michael spins them around so Alex is the one leaning against the sink. Once Alex is settled, Michael kneels on the hard concrete floor, his hands sliding up Alex’s thighs as he licks his lips in anticipation.

Alex grips Michael’s curls tight at the back of his head and Michael’s mouth drops open, his own cock throbbing in his jeans. Alex’s free hand comes up to touch his bottom lip, still slick with spit.

“Look at you,” Alex muses, the tip of his finger running along the edge of his teeth, pressing down to open Michael’s mouth further. Michael moans softly, sticking his tongue forward for a taste of Alex’s skin. “Haven’t even gotten my cock out and you’re already gagging for it.”

Michael whimpers as Alex slips his finger deeper inside to swipe over his tongue, and goddamn it if he doesn’t love it when Alex talks to him like this.

Alex’s other hand pops the button on his jeans and frees himself from his boxer briefs, tugging the waistband under his balls. Michael stares hungrily at his cock, thick and hard in front of him, and his lips close instinctually to suck on the finger that’s already in his mouth.

“Fuck, I love how much you want it,” Alex comments, watching Michael’s face. Alex removes his finger and wraps his hand around the base of his own cock, angling it toward Michael’s mouth. “Go on, you can have it.”

Michael leans forward and takes the head into his mouth, moaning as soon as he gets that first taste of precome. He revels in the feel of him, heavy on his tongue as it forces his lips open wide. Alex’s blunt nails scrape along Michael’s scalp as he sucks, drunk on the way Alex bites down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Michael bobs his head, taking him deeper and deeper on every downstroke until the dark wiry hair at the base of Alex’s cock tickles his nose. Tears leak from his eyes as he fights against his gag reflex, but Alex is there to catch them with the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex groans softly. “So fucking perfect, baby, you’re so good for me.”

Michael moans and Alex’s hips twitch forward involuntarily at the vibration, shoving his cock deeper down Michael’s throat. Alex cants his hips backward almost immediately, an apology on his lips, but Michael slides his hands around to the backs of Alex’s thighs to push him closer, urging him to fuck his throat. Instead of following through on Michael’s silent demand, Alex pulls his cock out of his mouth entirely.

He lets Michael catch his breath a minute before he asks, “You sure?” brushing his thumb across Michael’s cheek. Michael blushes as Alex’s finger trails down to wipe away some of the saliva that’s dripped down his chin.

“Yeah,” he says, voice broken and rough. “Please.”

Alex nods and eases his cock back into Michael’s mouth. Once Michael gives him the go ahead, he starts pumping his hips in a slow, steady rhythm that gradually builds as Michael adjusts to it.

Michael’s eyes fall shut as he concentrates on breathing, giving himself over to the sensation of Alex filling his throat, to the soft sounds Alex makes as his pleasure mounts. Michael is desperate for all of it, but most of all for the feeling of being used by the only person he’s ever trusted enough to give permission. Because as much as Alex gets off on this, as easy as it would be to forget himself and push Michael too hard, too fast, Michael knows that Alex will never be reckless with his safety, and he’s finally starting to understand why that matters.

It’s not long before Alex pulls out again, a gossamer thread of saliva connecting Michael’s mouth to his cock. Michael kneels there, gasping as he looks up at him.

“Keep your mouth open,” Alex demands roughly.

Michael obeys, opening his mouth, his tongue sticking out just passed the edge of his bottom lip.

“That’s it, baby,” he gasps, taking himself in hand. “You’re so good, love you so much.”

Alex strips his cock at lightning speed until he comes in thick white streaks across Michael’s tongue, shoving his cock back in his mouth at the last second so it doesn’t spill. Michael swallows greedily, sucking on the tip until Alex hisses in overstimulation and gently pushes him away. Michael rests his head on Alex’s thigh, his fingers dropping to curl around Alex’s left ankle as they both catch their breath.

Michael feels like he’s floating as Alex pulls him to his feet. He seeks out Alex’s warmth immediately, pressing close until their chests are flush together. He moans a little too loudly when Alex reaches for the waistband of his blue jeans, his need for release becoming urgent the moment he remembers it.

“Alex,” he whines as Alex gets his jeans open.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Alex promises.

Alex licks his own palm and takes him in hand. He doesn’t drag it out, instead jerking Michael off fast and rough. Michael buries his face in Alex’s neck to muffle his desperate sounds, his fingers gripping hard at Alex wherever he can reach.

“That’s it, Michael,” Alex murmurs in his ear. “Come for me, you can do it, you’ve been so good, come on—“

Stars explode behind Michael’s eyes as he comes in no time at all, shooting hard into Alex’s waiting hand. His eyes close as Alex milks him dry, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of him.

Suddenly, Michael feels something wet at his lips again. “Come on, don’t waste it,” Alex urges, and Michael opens his mouth without question. He registers the sharp taste of his own come on Alex’s fingers as they press inside his mouth and his spent cock twitches in interest against Alex’s palm.

He opens his eyes as he licks Alex’s fingers clean, enjoying the rapturous expression on Alex’s face. The second Alex’s fingers are out of his mouth, Alex claims his lips in a possessive kiss, chasing the taste of him on Michael’s tongue with his own. Michael lets Alex have his fill, content to submit to him.

“Mmm,” Michael hums when Alex pulls away, eyes half-lidded as he nuzzles closer.

He wraps his arms more completely around Alex’s waist as he leans heavily against his chest, his forehead finding a home against Alex’s neck. Alex rubs his hand up and down Michael’s back soothingly, making Michael want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“How’re you feeling?” Alex asks after he’s had a moment to settle. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

Michael takes stock of himself. His throat feels raw, his jaw aches, and he’s sure if he looked in the mirror he’d see a goddamn mess, but right now he feels amazing.

“No, you were perfect,” Michael answers, his voice hoarse. “Thank you.”

“Good,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to his temple. After a moment he chuckles and adds, “God, you really sound like you just got your throat fucked. Liz is definitely gonna know what I did to you in here.”

Michael makes an amused sound. “If she doesn’t already. You weren’t exactly quiet while I sucked your brain out your dick.”

Alex’s laugh is fond as he asks, rhetorically, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you want,” Michael replies, softer than he means to.

Michael feels Alex hold him tighter. “I love you,” he whispers into his curls.

“I love you too,” Michael says, squeezing him back and pressing a kiss to his neck.

Alex continues to rub his back for another precious minute before his movements slow to a stop. Michael makes a small noise of complaint in the back of his throat.

“I know,” Alex sighs ruefully, “but we should really get back to work.”

“Do we have to?” Michael whines.

“Mhm,” Alex answers. “Liz needs your help.”

“I think you’ll recall she said she could handle it,” he counters, though he’s already standing up on his own and tucking himself back into his jeans. Michael can feel Alex’s assessing gaze on him even as he zips himself up.

“Hey,” he says softly, and waits for Michael to look at him before he continues, “That was pretty intense, what we just did. We should still get back to work, but I’ll be just across the room, okay? If you want to go home or just need me close for a while, all you have to do is ask.”

Michael smiles, impossibly fond. “I know.”

They take turns washing their hands and give each other a once over to make sure there are no hard-to-explain stains on their clothes. Michael notes in the mirror that his hair is indeed a mess and his lips are red and puffy from use, but there’s not a whole lot he can do about that now.

“I’ll head out first,” Alex says, pausing to press a kiss to Michael’s cheek on his way out.

Michael spends another few minutes trying to make himself presentable before he leaves the bathroom.

When he reaches the drawing table he and Liz were working at, he finds a cold bottle of water in front of his chair. He locks eyes with Alex across the room and smiles, cracking the seal and taking a long pull, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat on the way down.

“So, you ready to—?” Liz starts, but freezes the second she looks at him. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Michael asks, feigning innocence, though he knows his performance is ruined by how wrecked his voice sounds.

“Don’t ‘what?’ me, Michael Guerin,” Liz says. “You two are fucking ridiculous, we’re supposed to be working!”

“I don’t know about ridiculous,” Michael smirks, “but we’re definitely fucking.”

Alex’s startled laugh echoes around the bunker as Michael narrowly avoids the eraser Liz throws at him.

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober Day 25

(As before, you can find a link to the AO3 version of this and the rest of my Kinktober 2020 prompts on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

Second entry with Dojima, though this was the first one he was marked down for when I was originally assigning characters to prompts. I don’t think I generally characterize Dojima as being a super rough guy. He seems like he’s intimidating but really a teddy bear for the people he cares about, so I guess I lean into that a little and go with a more passionate rough than an aggressive/mean rough.

Kinktober Day 25: Against A Wall (Ryotaro Dojima | Persona 4)

For once things had fallen into place and Dojima would have his home to himself, the others who lived with him away or spending time at a friend’s home for the night. You had leaped on the opportunity to keep him company while the house was empty. Too often he was busy with work, exhausted afterward, and beyond that, he had his daughter to take care of. He didn’t have a lot of spare time and you didn’t begrudge him for it. If anything, it only made you treasure the time alone you were able to have.

Plans had been made cheerfully, anticipation buzzing through your skull immediately. You almost could have reprimanded yourself for just how giddy it made you feel - as if you some naive, bubbly high schooler again. You wondered if Dojima was as excited as you, but was just better at keeping a stoic face.

You arrived in mid-evening with the fixings to prepare dinner for the both of you, along with a little bit of liquid courage to loosen you both up. Not that either of you really needed it, but it added to the relaxed atmosphere well enough. 

Soon enough, you sat eating, laughing, and drinking, exchanging tidbits about one another’s days past and a bit of flirting. When the food was gone and your drinks empty, both sporting a pleasant buzz, the flirting escalated. Coy remarks and fleeting touches turned into passionate, slow kisses and heavy, full caresses. You found yourself pinned to the couch and reveling in every second of it, fingers wrapped around Dojima’s biceps as he braced himself on either side of you.

Each sensation stoked the excitement and lust bubbling in your core, from the taste of the alcohol on his tongue to the sultry heat of his body through his clothes to the heavy press of his broad frame weighing you down. The layers separating you were maddening from the beginning and became more so with each sensual touch.

You weren’t sure how long you lay on the sofa, any sense of time melting away as you lost yourself in your lover. All you knew was at one point you broke apart and Dojima sat up, your legs splayed on either side of his hips. His eyes looked as hungry and fiery as you felt, swirling pools of fierce, wanton grey. Though you had little time to appreciate the lustful look on his face or question why he had pulled away. In a smooth motion, he hooked your legs around his waist, tucking his hands beneath you, and stood, lifting you along with him.

The change in position startled you at first and you squeezed your legs tighter around him, your arms flying forward to curl around his neck. With another quick kiss, Dojima made his way to the bedroom with you clinging firmly to him, though a bit less desperately after being reassured you weren’t going to fall.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Your back hit the wall with a solid knock and you winced at the dull ache. You had little want or mind to dwell on minor pain, far more interested in Dojima as he pinned you tightly against the wall of his bedroom. He had forgotten to draw the curtains in his room, though it was late enough the only thing that peered in was the moon, washing you both in white and silver. There was no worry anyone would get a glimpse of you through the window pane.

Your legs remained looped around Dojima’s waist, his broad hands cupped beneath your ass adding more support. You eagerly dove back into his kiss, the brief intermission between the living room and the bedroom doing nothing to dampen your hunger. You clung to whatever you could reach: the collar of his shirt, his tie, his shoulders, anything to hang on and pull him closer and keep him there. The longing had been bottled up far too long, sustained by short phone conversations or fleeting kisses in Dojima’s limited time. It was no surprise it should all burst out so explosively.

When at last your lips were swollen and you thought you might become light-headed from lack of air, Dojima tore away from the kiss. In a brief moment, you locked eyes again, momentarily awed by the intensity. The spell was quickly broken and Dojima tipped his head forward, scattering sloppy, hot kisses over your neck, stopped only by your neckline. His tongue trailed along the line of your neck until he found your pulse thrumming wildly and nipped at it. He wrapped his mouth around the spot, proceeding to suck a dark mark into your skin and elicit a squeak from you that became a whimper halfway through.

He didn’t stop at one lurid mark, swept up in the moment, leaving several more across your throat and the hard line of your collar bone peeking out from your shirt. His stubble rasped over each bruise-to-be, tickling and teasing the skin more You breathed his name weakly, letting your head fall back against the wall and granting him easier access. His groped greedily at your asscheeks and pinned you more securely against the wall. You laced a hand in his black hair, tugging at the short strands. 

Applying more pressure to his hips, Dojima shifted a hand from your ass to your shirt, working the buttons undone with surprising ease. You had purposefully gone without a bra that evening - or panties for that matter - knowing it would only get in the way later on. He didn’t question your lack of undergarments, palming a breast feverishly. His grey gaze flickered up and he felt himself grow harder at the expression of pleasure drawn across your features. He licked his lips impatiently and tilted his head forward again, drawing you into another heated kiss.

You groaned into the kiss, hips bucking involuntarily against his at an extra sharp squeeze to one tit. You released your fistful of hair, wiggling your arms out of your shirt until only the pressure of your body kept it hanging on. Dojima adjusted his hold and the shirt slid away completely to be forgotten in the moonlit room.

Dojima pulled away, pausing to gaze appreciatively at the sight before him. Bare from the waist up, cheeks aglow in the silvery moonlit and painted by a hot flush, he couldn’t help but color himself lucky. “Beautiful,” he whispered affectionately into the shell of your ear, his tone husky and longing.

Your blush intensified at his praise, for an instant unable to hold his gaze. Then the tender moment was over and he returned to ravishing you, whispering more short praises in between. Deciding it was unfair you were the only one undressing, you wrapped your fingers around his tie, jerking it from its clip and impatiently slipping it out of its knot. You thrust the tie aside before greedily moving onto his shirt, sliding each button free and pushing the material off his shoulders. You happily took in the broad shoulders and chest revealed to you, running one hand through the swirl of dark hair there. You trailed your hand down slowly, feeling his skin flinch away reflexively from your light touch until you were toying with the waistband of his slacks.

Eventually, he eased you down to your feet to let his shirt drop away and unbutton and tug off your pants. You returned the favor, hungrily undoing the catch of his slacks and pushing them down with his underwear. You licked your lips at the sight of his thick, eager cock and your pussy throbbed as your lust surged. Your panties had already begun to cling to the lips of your leaking cunt, though now you worried your arousal might seep through and down your thighs.

He pushed his hips back into yours, rubbing his cock along your soaked underwear, the swollen head brushing again your clit and making you whimper needily. “Don’t tease me,” you whined when he pulled back.

Impatience growing, you slipped your panties off as well, longing for a closer touch. When they hit the floor, Dojima wrapped a hand around your thigh, hiking it back up around his waist and reinforcing the closeness between you. You gladly hooked the leg around his waist, and then the other, once again supported by his rough hands on your ass.

You leaned forward, swapping roles and attacking his jawline and throat, eager to show your passion instead of just receiving his. He hummed, a pleased, guttural sound deep in his throat that made you shiver. “Dojima, please,” you entreated seductively, brushing your lips against his ear and dragging your tongue along the lobe.

With another low noise and a bit of searching, he drove forward, his cock sinking inside and granting you a sensation of fullness, accompanied by the delicious ache of being split open. You buried your head in his neck, kissing his flushed skin, mumbling unintelligible nonsense. “Mm, don’t go easy on me,” you purred, your voice half-muffled as you ground against him, trying to encourage him to move.

You felt a small laugh roll through Dojima’s chest, but he obliged, easing out and driving back home rough enough to make you groan into his neck. You pulled your face from the crook of his neck, meeting his lips again and drowning yourself in him as he moved into a hard, steady pace. He shifted his grip again, angling his hips until he was stroking a spot that had you writhing and clawing at his shoulders, moving from his mouth to cry out. 

Already heavy, the air felt suddenly so much thicker, hotter, each rock of his hips making your breath come in short puffs, broken by steadily rising cries and answering, gruff groans from Dojima. Each plunge back inside set your body further on edge, your walls clenching around his cock as if reluctant to let him go. Unwinding one arm from his back, you moved you hand between the tight press of your bodies, clumsily stroking between your legs for the final push you needed.

Your heart pounding and sweat beading on your skin, your cunt squeezing even tighter around him, Dojima dipped his head, growling in your ear. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it anymore.”

The pitch of his hips, the stroke of your fingers, the sweltering heat of his body, and the gravelly, husky words in your ear were just the right blend to make your body shake in climax. You moaned and chanted his name, again and again, head thrashing against the unyielding wall behind you, rolling your hips into his. In almost the same moment, Dojima followed, hips jerking erratically until they tapered into several long, hard, stuttered thrusts while he pumped you full of his cum.

You came to your senses, slowly, gradually more aware of the slick of sweat that covered your bodies and how heavily your chest rose and fell, blood drumming in your ears. Dojima lay his head beside yours on one shoulder, huffing hotly into your skin, hands holding your backside in an iron grip. But though you felt sweaty and exhausted, releasing all the pent up desire and longing left you thoroughly satisfied.

After a moment of recovery, Dojima relocated the two of you to his bed. He continued to hold you as close, arms shifting to twine around your waist and back. You tucked your head beneath his chin, enjoying the slowly settling thrum of his pulse and his breath. You imagined the passion wasn’t completely spent for the night, but it was certainly a good start.