[the concept of this may not be new to cassian, but her experience with it, specifically, is; he's not actually sure how much max needs from him, or how quickly. in the moment that she stills, clinging to him, he begins to question if she might've needed more time before he'd applied that kind of touch. he's about to pull back just far enough so he can ask —
but then she sinks into his touch, begins to ride his hand, and he has his answer. there's a sigh that breathes out of him as he captures her mouth with his again, a reassurance as steady as the arm that's wrapped around her, holding her close. he lets his hand follow her lead, using the small, careful motions that she does, waiting for her cues to shift his rhythm.]
[ tension starts to build within her as she continues to move her hips to match his rhythm, pleasure spreading through her until her skin feels like it’s on fire. she urges him into a quicker speed and groans as his movements become erratic as the speed picks up. she can feel her want dripping against her thighs, making his fingers slick and messy, and she tears her mouth away from his to pant against his shoulder, clinging tight to him so she doesn’t dissolve to the ground. ]
Please, [ she gasps sharply as she feels him press deeper, making her shiver again ] please -
[what he wants, above anything else, is whatever will make her comfortable. maybe this, not even having taken the time to move to the bedroom or somewhere that doesn't have them just standing here, isn't exactly it, but when his fingers are covered in her want and he can hear the shift in her breath, can feel her getting close, there are things that he's not going to change for the moment. he makes a quick mental note that he'll steer them that way eventually, but for now —
his focus narrows until his entire world is consumed by her gasps and the way she shivers against him, by the edge he's drawing her toward. please, she practically begs him, and of course he'll oblige. of course.
tightening his grip around her, secure so that she won't fall no matter what, he pushes his fingers in deeper, speeding up his pace, thumb at her clit to do what he can to finish the job.]
[ she maybe would have preferred to have this end up somewhere more private, but by the time she’d gotten him started it had been too late. she’s more or less been moving on instinct and halting in the middle of things just to move somewhere more secluded would be agonizing. so she’s grateful when he doesn’t move or make suggestions to take this anywhere else, instead adjusting his hold to make sure she’s secure as he helps chase her towards finishing.
it doesn’t take her long, her movements picking up speed against his hand as she holds onto him for balance, and she comes hard with a shuddery, breathy groan as he swipes against her clit after circling it with the pad of his thumb. her eyes shut as she rides out the aftershocks of pleasure, moaning his name into his neck. ]
[there's no sound he's ever heard that compares to the way she moans his name into his neck, with the shuddering, unguarded openness of the trust she's placed in him at what might be her most vulnerable moment. the impact of that has him taking in a shaky breath, too, has him closing his eyes, even if there's a part of him that wants to watch her come apart — because the realization is overwhelming, and if he thinks about it for too long, that trust is something he wonders if he deserves. rather than let that thought, or any, come in, he shuts it all out, focusing on keeping them standing as she rides out the high.
his hand stills, but, for now, remains positioned between her thighs, and the other rubs circles over her back with his fingers, what he intends to be grounding for whenever she starts to come back to the moment.
and there's a silence, filled only with breaths, that he lets sit between them for a time. he only breaks it to ask her, softly,]
[ she's not sure how much time passes as she keeps holding onto him as she starts to come down. she's aware of his breathing and heartbeat and her own, the way she starts to relax in his hold as the tension melts from her body. eventually she's aware of his hand moving in circles in the space between her shoulder blades, offering comfort and reassurance. she feels contented, safe in a way she's not used to that, that would ordinarily send a spark of fear in the back of her mind.
she's still thinking just clearly enough to shove the thought aside and focus on how she feels. it helps that he asks her, once he's gained enough of his breath back to speak. ]
Good. [ she knows better than to think that's the end of it, especially since it's still fairly early on in the cycle, but for now it's the truth. ] It's not gonna end there, though.
[it's noticeable when she starts to relax in his arms, which lets him start to relax, too — not completely, because that's so rarely been possible for him anyway, but equally noticeable. as she answers him, he opens his eyes, glancing down at her as best he can to where she's still leaning against him.
a soft smile cracks on his mouth, relief and reassurance all at once. the latter, he thinks, is important to show when she confirms what he's already guessed from prior knowledge of similar situations: that this could go on for a while. he's here to see it through, and he hopes that the way he doesn't pull back from her, the way he continues to hold her close, communicates that.
he just has one gentle suggestion.]
We might be more comfortable in the bedroom.
she has like five appropriate icons right now i'm sorry
[ she nods, shifting in his hold and making a soft noise in her throat as she withdraws herself from him, hands steadying her on his shoulder as she regains her footing. his shirt's bunched over her hips, hair mussed and still damp, and she feels slick and sticky between her thighs, still aching in a pleasant way. she looks up at him, eyes still clear, reflecting vulnerability and sincerity as a small smile curves her mouth and she nods her agreement. ]
[when she withdraws from him, it's enough to give him a look at her — one he has trouble drawing his eyes away from. one that he may never look away from again. he doesn't want to; she may be, at this moment, the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, from her mussed hair to her bunched up (borrowed) shirt, to the softness of her smile and the open vulnerability in her eyes. an intake of breath doesn't quite reach his lungs, getting caught in his throat.
there's a twist in his chest, too, the one that accompanies a thought he knows well, even if it barely surfaces from the back of his mind: what could he have possibly done to deserve that?
he swallows it down, that thought, and as he does, he can give her a smile, a reflection of what she's giving him. he leans in, satisfying an impulse to quickly press his lips to hers before he reaches out with his left hand, curling it around her fingers as he does what he's told.
it isn't a long walk to the bedroom, but he still stops them once they're barely through the doorway, releasing her hand to instead wrap his arm around her waist — as if even that amount of time had been too long to be away from her.]
[ in spite of how she’d warned him, she’s still in possession of the more rational part of her mind throughout this. it’s just much easier to ignore that when her body and baser instincts are screaming at her to stop thinking so much about the complications and how acting on what she wants could make things worse in the long run. this isn’t the same sort of complicated that it’s been in the past, but she is worried about how attached she’s been getting when she’s consistently been left behind by people she’s grown close to here.
that’s not his fault and also not something she really wants to think about, not when he’s taking her by the hand and guiding her back to her bedroom and she can feel desire stirring up inside her again. by the time he switches from holding her hand to winding his arm around her waist she’s much more concerned with getting him closer again and having him touch her without any barriers.
she turns on him, reeling up to kiss him as she works her hands underneath his shirt. it’s not until she pulls back to give him air that she says: ]
You’re gonna need a lot less clothes on, to start.
[if another thought attempts to surface in his mind, it's damn well silenced with her return to kiss him, and with the feeling of her hands slipping under his shirt, roaming over his skin. he groans quietly against her mouth, mind peacefully blank, as he meets her in the middle, reciprocating with equal intensity. the arm around her waist brings her closer, flush to him.
it's a loss, when she pulls back, and a part of him aches to protest (just as he aches with want), but she's right; there's still too much between them, and most of that is on him.
so he doesn't waste time, pulling back just a little more distance so he can tug his own shirt over his head and toss it aside, before unfastening his pants and stepping out of them.
and, speaking of clothes:]
You can keep the shirt, [he tells her, voice low, through a half-caught breath.] It looks better on you.
[he doesn't necessarily mean for her to keep it on now — although in his eyes, which he allows to scan over her again, that wouldn't hurt. that might, in and of itself, have its own effect on him.]
[ there's a soft noise made against his mouth as he pulls her flush to him and she feels heat bloom through her, warming her skin under his touch until he pulls away enough to shed some of his clothing after she makes her request. she growls low in her throat as she dives back in on him, kissing up his chest and shoulder up and over his neck, rubbing against him. he mentions the shirt she's wearing and she grins, nipping lightly at his neck. ]
Yeah? [ her tone is low and heady as her hands roam over his skin, fingertips tracing over the indents of his muscles. ] You want me to keep wearing it, or do you wanna tear it off of me?
[briefly, as she dives back in on him, trailing over his skin with both her hands and her lips, cassian wonders why they ever step away from this. the feeling of her teeth on his neck tightens his breath, pulls a noise from his throat and the tension within him taught, and he can't wonder anything at all.
he can barely keep track of a singular thought, much less the two possibilities she puts in front of him. there's a moment before he slips both hands under the shirt she's wearing, palms flat as he moves them over her skin.
there's an audible strain in his voice, echoes of his want, when he decides:]
[ she can hear the want in his voice, feel it in the needy, desperate way he grasps at her underneath the shirt, sparking heat and goosebumps in their wake. she groans, arching into him, and her hands reach for the front of his pants, tugging him back until they reach her bed, her mouth back on his, kissing him hungrily.
the back of her legs his the edge of her bed and they fall awkwardly onto it and she gasps a little as he lands on top of her, shifting beneath him. scooting back and sitting up, she reaches for the side of his face, guiding him back to his mouth as she shifts her legs apart, rocking her hips up and against his, groaning again when she makes contact. ]
Show me how much you like seeing it on me. [ it's muttered between kisses, during breaks for oxygen, as her hands rake through his hair and then pull him closer. ]
[he wants her the way he always does — all-encompassing, all-consuming. there's nothing that's relevant to him but that, nothing that's relevant but the way she responds, with sounds he would die content as being the last thing he would ever hear. but he couldn't, now, not with how she kisses him, or how he rises to meet every single one with the same intensity, like a drowning man desperate for air.
their stumbling on the way to the bed, and their eventual fall onto it, barely register. his answering groan at the contact made when she rocks up into him is barely within his own shattering control.
the way to honor what she requests of him, properly, would be to take his time, to hold her thighs open with his hands as he works her with his mouth, but the strain, the ache at his core, won't give him the opportunity. not now, anyway.
with some reluctance, he breaks away, just for long enough to shed the last of his clothes. nothing between them now, he balances himself on top of her, diving in to claim her mouth with hers again as he moves his hips, his cock, tangibly hard, pressing against her.]
[ she certainly wouldn't mind him holding her legs apart and working over her cunt with his mouth, but he seems to be all out of patience for the time being. and given how worked up she's already gotten again, that's fine by her. he pulls away from her to shed the rest of his clothing and she helps him shove and pull them off his body, until the only thing between them is the shirt he'd insisted she keep on.
he dives back in, claiming her mouth, and she groans and arches beneath him. it's agonizing to have him this close and still just shy of where she needs him and she whines, trying to hook her legs around his hips so she can guide him inside her. ]
Come on, [ she gasps against his ear as her movements result in a grind instead, and heat flares through her blood. ] - come on, please -
one shift has him lifting up, enough to look at her; he doesn't say it, because he couldn't possibly even begin to form words right now, but in this moment, flushed underneath him, wearing his shirt, allowing him to see this specific kind of vulnerability, she's never been more beautiful to him. he only allows himself seconds to take this sight in, just the amount of time he needs to commit it to memory and no more, before changing the angle as he returns to her, one hand on her hip to assist with positioning as he slowly sinks inside of her.
the feeling overwhelms, drawing a tight, strained gasp out of him. his other hand, shaking, reaches for her face, gently resting his fingers over her cheek as he brings his mouth to hers again. he doesn't intend to stay like this, of course, because he'll move at her first instruction, but he can give her some time to adjust — and himself a few more seconds to linger.]
[ she catches his eye as he positions himself and feels acutely aware of how he’s taking her in, eyes wide as if he’s in awe of her, mouth slack and skin flushed. if she were in her normal state of mind, she’d be more frightened of that; feel the need to turn from it out of fear of acknowledging what it means for them both. as it is she looks back, hand cradling the side of his face, not looking away until he presses himself inside her.
and then it’s too much sensation, leaving her shivering and hot against him. arms winding around him to hold him close. her breath gets high and light, a sharp gasp as he fills her fading into soft pants as they both adjust to it.
for a moment all she can do is kiss lightly back when he finds her mouth with his again. once she adjusts, she signals it by kissing back with more intensity, one leg hooking over his hips as she adjusts beneath him, prepared to cradle his movements. ]
[there's a familiarity to this, a foundation laid down over the past several months, yet at the same time, in some ways, it also feels new. she defines, and redefines, for him what it means to be close, over and over again; she shivers and so does he, their breaths match, and her warmth is his warmth, seeping under his skin and spreading all the way through him. it's everything he's spent years trying to reach for pieces of, and everything he's tried to push away. and here —
he lets her wrap her arms around him and keep him in this with her, more comfortable than afraid. if he could form a thought even coherent enough to just acknowledge the feeling, he wouldn't know what to do with it.
but that isn't on his mind now. it's at least a light year away as his mouth curves into a smile against hers, as even that is absorbed by the intensity of the kiss she gives him in return. he takes that as his cue, the grip of his fingers tightening over her hip as he starts to roll against her, setting a slow and steady rhythm to start.]
[ she isn't sure what she'd do with a name to the feelings he stirs up inside her, ones she didn't think she was capable of anymore. ones she's tried not to have here at all, because she's not sure if she's even still alive at home, or if a home even exists anymore. she'd grown so tired of feeling hurt she'd figured it was better not try not feeling anything.
but she's not thinking of that now, or much of anything besides him and what they're doing and how she's feeling; the tender way he's touching her, tuned into her body and its responses to what he's doing, what she needs and wants from this. this isn't anything they haven't done before, but it's something comforting to be doing it with this context, with him making sure she's doing okay.
he starts to move, slowly, as he picks up on the cues she's giving, hand pinning her hip in place as his hips roll forward and press into her. she sighs against his mouth in between breaks for air, one hand raking through his hair as the other roams over his skin, still holding him close. ]
[this, like so many things, has a limit. mostly, there's a physical one; he's stretching that limit now, fighting against the tension in his own body, the steadily building desperation for release, to keep the pace slow and to stay in this for as long as possible.
it becomes harder to do that when her fingers move through his hair, sending a jolt that sparks the desperation anew; he meets her sigh with a gasp of his own, and there's a moment, still holding onto her, that his motion becomes clumsy, and he sinks into her even deeper before pulling back just a little.
thumb grazing over her cheek to draw her attention, he searches for her eyes with his, silently checking in, looking for his next cue.]
[ his movements gradually transition from deliberate and slow to messy and erratic, and she can feel the desperation for release in his movements, mirroring what she’s currently coping with. he sinks deeper inside her and she cries out, her leg hooking tighter around him and drawing him as close as she can get, unable to get enough.
but he pauses, pulling back and drawing her attention to him with a gentle graze at her cheek, a lock of her hair falling back with the touch. she meets his eyes and responds wordlessly, her breath coming in pants and a sharp gasp as she rocks her hips up, then does it again, indicating he can increase the pace. ]
Don’t - [ her breath and voice are stuttered, her body protesting the sudden stop in movement, and a sigh falls from her lips as her hips jerk up again ] - don’t hold back.
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but then she sinks into his touch, begins to ride his hand, and he has his answer. there's a sigh that breathes out of him as he captures her mouth with his again, a reassurance as steady as the arm that's wrapped around her, holding her close. he lets his hand follow her lead, using the small, careful motions that she does, waiting for her cues to shift his rhythm.]
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Please, [ she gasps sharply as she feels him press deeper, making her shiver again ] please -
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his focus narrows until his entire world is consumed by her gasps and the way she shivers against him, by the edge he's drawing her toward. please, she practically begs him, and of course he'll oblige. of course.
tightening his grip around her, secure so that she won't fall no matter what, he pushes his fingers in deeper, speeding up his pace, thumb at her clit to do what he can to finish the job.]
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it doesn’t take her long, her movements picking up speed against his hand as she holds onto him for balance, and she comes hard with a shuddery, breathy groan as he swipes against her clit after circling it with the pad of his thumb. her eyes shut as she rides out the aftershocks of pleasure, moaning his name into his neck. ]
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his hand stills, but, for now, remains positioned between her thighs, and the other rubs circles over her back with his fingers, what he intends to be grounding for whenever she starts to come back to the moment.
and there's a silence, filled only with breaths, that he lets sit between them for a time. he only breaks it to ask her, softly,]
How are you feeling?
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she's still thinking just clearly enough to shove the thought aside and focus on how she feels. it helps that he asks her, once he's gained enough of his breath back to speak. ]
Good. [ she knows better than to think that's the end of it, especially since it's still fairly early on in the cycle, but for now it's the truth. ] It's not gonna end there, though.
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a soft smile cracks on his mouth, relief and reassurance all at once. the latter, he thinks, is important to show when she confirms what he's already guessed from prior knowledge of similar situations: that this could go on for a while. he's here to see it through, and he hopes that the way he doesn't pull back from her, the way he continues to hold her close, communicates that.
he just has one gentle suggestion.]
We might be more comfortable in the bedroom.
she has like five appropriate icons right now i'm sorry
Lead the way.
i got u
there's a twist in his chest, too, the one that accompanies a thought he knows well, even if it barely surfaces from the back of his mind: what could he have possibly done to deserve that?
he swallows it down, that thought, and as he does, he can give her a smile, a reflection of what she's giving him. he leans in, satisfying an impulse to quickly press his lips to hers before he reaches out with his left hand, curling it around her fingers as he does what he's told.
it isn't a long walk to the bedroom, but he still stops them once they're barely through the doorway, releasing her hand to instead wrap his arm around her waist — as if even that amount of time had been too long to be away from her.]
What next?
😘
that’s not his fault and also not something she really wants to think about, not when he’s taking her by the hand and guiding her back to her bedroom and she can feel desire stirring up inside her again. by the time he switches from holding her hand to winding his arm around her waist she’s much more concerned with getting him closer again and having him touch her without any barriers.
she turns on him, reeling up to kiss him as she works her hands underneath his shirt. it’s not until she pulls back to give him air that she says: ]
You’re gonna need a lot less clothes on, to start.
no subject
it's a loss, when she pulls back, and a part of him aches to protest (just as he aches with want), but she's right; there's still too much between them, and most of that is on him.
so he doesn't waste time, pulling back just a little more distance so he can tug his own shirt over his head and toss it aside, before unfastening his pants and stepping out of them.
and, speaking of clothes:]
You can keep the shirt, [he tells her, voice low, through a half-caught breath.] It looks better on you.
[he doesn't necessarily mean for her to keep it on now — although in his eyes, which he allows to scan over her again, that wouldn't hurt. that might, in and of itself, have its own effect on him.]
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Yeah? [ her tone is low and heady as her hands roam over his skin, fingertips tracing over the indents of his muscles. ] You want me to keep wearing it, or do you wanna tear it off of me?
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he can barely keep track of a singular thought, much less the two possibilities she puts in front of him. there's a moment before he slips both hands under the shirt she's wearing, palms flat as he moves them over her skin.
there's an audible strain in his voice, echoes of his want, when he decides:]
Keep it on.
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the back of her legs his the edge of her bed and they fall awkwardly onto it and she gasps a little as he lands on top of her, shifting beneath him. scooting back and sitting up, she reaches for the side of his face, guiding him back to his mouth as she shifts her legs apart, rocking her hips up and against his, groaning again when she makes contact. ]
Show me how much you like seeing it on me. [ it's muttered between kisses, during breaks for oxygen, as her hands rake through his hair and then pull him closer. ]
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their stumbling on the way to the bed, and their eventual fall onto it, barely register. his answering groan at the contact made when she rocks up into him is barely within his own shattering control.
the way to honor what she requests of him, properly, would be to take his time, to hold her thighs open with his hands as he works her with his mouth, but the strain, the ache at his core, won't give him the opportunity. not now, anyway.
with some reluctance, he breaks away, just for long enough to shed the last of his clothes. nothing between them now, he balances himself on top of her, diving in to claim her mouth with hers again as he moves his hips, his cock, tangibly hard, pressing against her.]
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he dives back in, claiming her mouth, and she groans and arches beneath him. it's agonizing to have him this close and still just shy of where she needs him and she whines, trying to hook her legs around his hips so she can guide him inside her. ]
Come on, [ she gasps against his ear as her movements result in a grind instead, and heat flares through her blood. ] - come on, please -
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one shift has him lifting up, enough to look at her; he doesn't say it, because he couldn't possibly even begin to form words right now, but in this moment, flushed underneath him, wearing his shirt, allowing him to see this specific kind of vulnerability, she's never been more beautiful to him. he only allows himself seconds to take this sight in, just the amount of time he needs to commit it to memory and no more, before changing the angle as he returns to her, one hand on her hip to assist with positioning as he slowly sinks inside of her.
the feeling overwhelms, drawing a tight, strained gasp out of him. his other hand, shaking, reaches for her face, gently resting his fingers over her cheek as he brings his mouth to hers again. he doesn't intend to stay like this, of course, because he'll move at her first instruction, but he can give her some time to adjust — and himself a few more seconds to linger.]
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and then it’s too much sensation, leaving her shivering and hot against him. arms winding around him to hold him close. her breath gets high and light, a sharp gasp as he fills her fading into soft pants as they both adjust to it.
for a moment all she can do is kiss lightly back when he finds her mouth with his again. once she adjusts, she signals it by kissing back with more intensity, one leg hooking over his hips as she adjusts beneath him, prepared to cradle his movements. ]
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he lets her wrap her arms around him and keep him in this with her, more comfortable than afraid. if he could form a thought even coherent enough to just acknowledge the feeling, he wouldn't know what to do with it.
but that isn't on his mind now. it's at least a light year away as his mouth curves into a smile against hers, as even that is absorbed by the intensity of the kiss she gives him in return. he takes that as his cue, the grip of his fingers tightening over her hip as he starts to roll against her, setting a slow and steady rhythm to start.]
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but she's not thinking of that now, or much of anything besides him and what they're doing and how she's feeling; the tender way he's touching her, tuned into her body and its responses to what he's doing, what she needs and wants from this. this isn't anything they haven't done before, but it's something comforting to be doing it with this context, with him making sure she's doing okay.
he starts to move, slowly, as he picks up on the cues she's giving, hand pinning her hip in place as his hips roll forward and press into her. she sighs against his mouth in between breaks for air, one hand raking through his hair as the other roams over his skin, still holding him close. ]
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it becomes harder to do that when her fingers move through his hair, sending a jolt that sparks the desperation anew; he meets her sigh with a gasp of his own, and there's a moment, still holding onto her, that his motion becomes clumsy, and he sinks into her even deeper before pulling back just a little.
thumb grazing over her cheek to draw her attention, he searches for her eyes with his, silently checking in, looking for his next cue.]
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but he pauses, pulling back and drawing her attention to him with a gentle graze at her cheek, a lock of her hair falling back with the touch. she meets his eyes and responds wordlessly, her breath coming in pants and a sharp gasp as she rocks her hips up, then does it again, indicating he can increase the pace. ]
Don’t - [ her breath and voice are stuttered, her body protesting the sudden stop in movement, and a sigh falls from her lips as her hips jerk up again ] - don’t hold back.