now it’s 3 am and I’m awake and the
Sep. 11th, 2016 08:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2cv92n2:
now it’s 3 am and I’m awake and the wind’s picked up because a thunderstorm is coming thru (radar on noaa.gov shows me a band of storms at about syracuse so great that’ll hit me at like 5am) and i dropped my phone on the floor and it’s mobile tethered so i gotta reach it to turn it back off eventually before the battery drains and also my entire data plan for the month gets used up, and i don’t know what’s down there in the dark and i can’t find any flashlights so my soul is leaving my body and it is still nearly 80 degrees
what the fuck was that distant clanging noise in the opposite direction from the house or barn or anywhere there should be any noises at all what agh
WHAT THE FUCK there is a tiny frog in my bed what the fuck what the
AGH
HERE HAVE SOME SMUT
Kes/Shara explicit didn’t fit in any of the other stories so far, relationship negotiations, crygasm, idk what to tag this there is an amphibian in my bed judging me and i got no mental capacity left
Shara was strangely focused tonight, and it overwhelmed Kes; she pinned him down and rode him mercilessly, slow and implacable and she was working him so hard, wringing him out with her internal muscles, so tight and so slick it was taking every last fiber of his self-control to hold off. It was like she was trying to get him off, and not working at all on making herself come, and it was almost cruel.
A brief eternity of this and Kes was whimpering aloud, teeth gritted, fighting hard to stay in control; every nerve in his entire body was raw and sparking and he was pretty sure so much as a breath of air pressure change would make him come despite himself. And still she worked herself inexorably along his length, and he was going to have to beg.
“Shara,” he gasped.
“Come on,” she said, hoarse, “come on, Kes, it’s all right.”
“But,” he said, panting.
“I’ll take what I need, don’t worry about it, come on,” she said, and he shuddered, but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let go.
“Please,” he sobbed, his whole body going far away, “please, I c-c-can’t—“
“Come on, baby,” she said, shoving down, taking him deeper, “come on,” and he cried out, starting to lose his grip, breath coming deep and fast, every nerve lighting up.
It hit him hard, and he shook wildly. She rode it out and it was only as he came down that he realized she was coming too, silently, hanging onto his shoulders and shivering through it. It was intense, it was so intense he had to bury his face in her shoulder, sling his arm around the back of her neck and pull her down. She was still hitching, clenching down around him, and he shoved his face against her smooth skin and sobbed for breath, trying to get himself under control.
“I got you,” she said shakily, wrapping her arms around his head, and he held onto her, feeling weirdly gutted and vulnerable and shivery. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.”
“Shara,” he said, breath hitching. He wasn’t— was he crying? He was crying. It was too much. He didn’t know. It was too much.
“Shh,” she murmured, and rolled onto her side to pull him in tight to her. The change in position disconnected their bodies, and it was too much sensation; he shivered and made a desperate little noise.
“Shara,” he said again, trying to get ahold of himself.
She kissed the side of his head, soft and lingering. She had her leg wrapped over his hips, and her arms around him, and she held him gently but tightly, pressing her cheek against his temple when she pulled away from the kiss. “I’ve got you, baby,” she said, “it’s all right.”
“I love you,” he said, despite himself, clinging to her.
She kissed him again, and pressed her cheek back against his temple. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I love you too.”
He hung on, letting himself breathe her scent, feeling her breath move warm against his skin, her fingers in his hair, her sweat cooling against his skin. She was everything he wanted, she was the only home he needed, and he hadn’t meant to tell her that quite so openly. But there wasn’t room for coyness in this relationship.
“You don’t have to,” he said finally, when it had built up in his mind too much for him to stay silent. “You don’t have to say it back just because I said it.” He was just all— raw emotion and no control and everything was too much. He needed her, he needed her, he would die if she pushed him away, but he had promised not to trap her, he’d given his word, he wasn’t allowed to need her like that.
“Kes,” she said, wrapping her fingers through his hair. She didn’t pull, but there was the little possibility of it, and it sent a little shiver through Kes’s center, and it should have been even more too much but instead it kind of quieted some of the rawness of his nerves. “You think I would?”
“I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I found out the hard way, sometimes you say it and people feel like they gotta say it back and then you get that thrown in your face later when you made the mistake of thinking they meant it.” He rubbed his face in her shoulder and tried to collect himself. He’d promised. He’d promised her, and more importantly he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to be like this.
“Well,” Shara said, “I got no manners, Kes, so I don’t ever feel like I gotta say anything I don’t want to.” She was petting his hair, and it shouldn’t have been as soothing as it was.
“That’s not true,” he pointed out.
“It’s true enough,” she said. “Shit, Kes, I wouldn’t lie to you. Hold on, baby, you’re okay.”
“Never mind,” he said, wanting to sink through the bed and disappear. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to get you to— I wasn’t fishing, Shara.”
She kissed his head and wouldn’t let him go as he made a half-hearted attempt to pull away. “Shh, Kes, I know,” she said, and kissed his cheek, pulling a little with her fingers to make him turn his head until she could take his mouth. She kissed him slowly, languidly, and he wanted to just melt into it and not think anymore, wanted to just believe her.
“I just feel like I keep accidentally trapping you,” he said finally, when his brain just wouldn’t shut up and let him enjoy it.
She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed but her mouth curved in a faint smile. “My sweet boy,” she said, carding her fingers through his hair. “If I didn’t want to be caught, I wouldn’t have let you.”
now it’s 3 am and I’m awake and the wind’s picked up because a thunderstorm is coming thru (radar on noaa.gov shows me a band of storms at about syracuse so great that’ll hit me at like 5am) and i dropped my phone on the floor and it’s mobile tethered so i gotta reach it to turn it back off eventually before the battery drains and also my entire data plan for the month gets used up, and i don’t know what’s down there in the dark and i can’t find any flashlights so my soul is leaving my body and it is still nearly 80 degrees
what the fuck was that distant clanging noise in the opposite direction from the house or barn or anywhere there should be any noises at all what agh
WHAT THE FUCK there is a tiny frog in my bed what the fuck what the
AGH
HERE HAVE SOME SMUT
Kes/Shara explicit didn’t fit in any of the other stories so far, relationship negotiations, crygasm, idk what to tag this there is an amphibian in my bed judging me and i got no mental capacity left
Shara was strangely focused tonight, and it overwhelmed Kes; she pinned him down and rode him mercilessly, slow and implacable and she was working him so hard, wringing him out with her internal muscles, so tight and so slick it was taking every last fiber of his self-control to hold off. It was like she was trying to get him off, and not working at all on making herself come, and it was almost cruel.
A brief eternity of this and Kes was whimpering aloud, teeth gritted, fighting hard to stay in control; every nerve in his entire body was raw and sparking and he was pretty sure so much as a breath of air pressure change would make him come despite himself. And still she worked herself inexorably along his length, and he was going to have to beg.
“Shara,” he gasped.
“Come on,” she said, hoarse, “come on, Kes, it’s all right.”
“But,” he said, panting.
“I’ll take what I need, don’t worry about it, come on,” she said, and he shuddered, but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let go.
“Please,” he sobbed, his whole body going far away, “please, I c-c-can’t—“
“Come on, baby,” she said, shoving down, taking him deeper, “come on,” and he cried out, starting to lose his grip, breath coming deep and fast, every nerve lighting up.
It hit him hard, and he shook wildly. She rode it out and it was only as he came down that he realized she was coming too, silently, hanging onto his shoulders and shivering through it. It was intense, it was so intense he had to bury his face in her shoulder, sling his arm around the back of her neck and pull her down. She was still hitching, clenching down around him, and he shoved his face against her smooth skin and sobbed for breath, trying to get himself under control.
“I got you,” she said shakily, wrapping her arms around his head, and he held onto her, feeling weirdly gutted and vulnerable and shivery. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.”
“Shara,” he said, breath hitching. He wasn’t— was he crying? He was crying. It was too much. He didn’t know. It was too much.
“Shh,” she murmured, and rolled onto her side to pull him in tight to her. The change in position disconnected their bodies, and it was too much sensation; he shivered and made a desperate little noise.
“Shara,” he said again, trying to get ahold of himself.
She kissed the side of his head, soft and lingering. She had her leg wrapped over his hips, and her arms around him, and she held him gently but tightly, pressing her cheek against his temple when she pulled away from the kiss. “I’ve got you, baby,” she said, “it’s all right.”
“I love you,” he said, despite himself, clinging to her.
She kissed him again, and pressed her cheek back against his temple. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I love you too.”
He hung on, letting himself breathe her scent, feeling her breath move warm against his skin, her fingers in his hair, her sweat cooling against his skin. She was everything he wanted, she was the only home he needed, and he hadn’t meant to tell her that quite so openly. But there wasn’t room for coyness in this relationship.
“You don’t have to,” he said finally, when it had built up in his mind too much for him to stay silent. “You don’t have to say it back just because I said it.” He was just all— raw emotion and no control and everything was too much. He needed her, he needed her, he would die if she pushed him away, but he had promised not to trap her, he’d given his word, he wasn’t allowed to need her like that.
“Kes,” she said, wrapping her fingers through his hair. She didn’t pull, but there was the little possibility of it, and it sent a little shiver through Kes’s center, and it should have been even more too much but instead it kind of quieted some of the rawness of his nerves. “You think I would?”
“I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I found out the hard way, sometimes you say it and people feel like they gotta say it back and then you get that thrown in your face later when you made the mistake of thinking they meant it.” He rubbed his face in her shoulder and tried to collect himself. He’d promised. He’d promised her, and more importantly he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to be like this.
“Well,” Shara said, “I got no manners, Kes, so I don’t ever feel like I gotta say anything I don’t want to.” She was petting his hair, and it shouldn’t have been as soothing as it was.
“That’s not true,” he pointed out.
“It’s true enough,” she said. “Shit, Kes, I wouldn’t lie to you. Hold on, baby, you’re okay.”
“Never mind,” he said, wanting to sink through the bed and disappear. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to get you to— I wasn’t fishing, Shara.”
She kissed his head and wouldn’t let him go as he made a half-hearted attempt to pull away. “Shh, Kes, I know,” she said, and kissed his cheek, pulling a little with her fingers to make him turn his head until she could take his mouth. She kissed him slowly, languidly, and he wanted to just melt into it and not think anymore, wanted to just believe her.
“I just feel like I keep accidentally trapping you,” he said finally, when his brain just wouldn’t shut up and let him enjoy it.
She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed but her mouth curved in a faint smile. “My sweet boy,” she said, carding her fingers through his hair. “If I didn’t want to be caught, I wouldn’t have let you.”
