Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

[questionablewit]

Want to tag someone? Tag someone. Put the character you want in the subject line.
Leave a starter, or leave a prompt and I'll start.
Brilliant ideas and clueless flailing all welcome.
AUs and cross-canon, drama and comedy and shipping.
Just throw stuff at me. It's all good.

Comments

[whattheydefend]

He groans at those brazen words, which shoot through him like arrows of fire, and immediately lifts himself up to cover her, kissing her as desperately as if their lives depend on it. Instinct guides him, settling him between her legs.

He kneels up a little and takes himself in hand, positioning himself at her entrance, and he breaks the kiss long enough to meet her eyes, one last, silent request for assurance that this is welcome. He rubs the head of his cock against her slit to tease her, and a quick smile flits across his face.

[freo]

She welcomes him into the warm cradle of her thighs, spreading to accommodate him and relishing the feel of him on top as she kisses back with equal hunger. Fondness mingles with mild exasperation at how careful he's being, at the silent question passed between them. Oh, how she loves him! But she does not think she could have been more plain in her wishes.

"Really, Faramir. Must I beg?" she teases, albeit rather breathlessly, biting her lip on a little whine when he rubs against her tender flesh, a shudder of anticipation and pleasure running down her body.

[whattheydefend]

"Beg, no." He licks his lip, still teases her, leans forward to whisper in her ear. "But if you would command me once more..."

For in all his heated imaginings, he had never anticipated his reaction to that.

[freo]

She moans faintly when he teases her some more, squirming a little restlessly beneath him; her habitual impatience starting to creep back in. But she can't help but breathe a ragged laugh, barely more than a heavy exhalation, at the words he whispers in her ear. He'd liked that, did he? Then he married the right woman, indeed.

"Take me," she repeats, her need making her bold, panting softly in anticipation as she lifts one leg to wrap possessively -- and perhaps in encouragement -- about his body. "Take me right now."

[whattheydefend]

He draws in a sharp breath, closing his eyes as he sinks into her. Shallowly at first, and he makes himself pause, withdraws a little, then pushes further. His breathing stays harsh and ragged as he continues, trying to keep ahold of his self-control just a little longer, just until she has time to accustom herself to these new sensations. Giving himself time also, because it would be so easy to be overwhelmed, and he wants to remember this.

Then he's fully sheathed inside her and pauses again, just long enough to kiss her, his lips pulling at hers as he withdraws and pushes again, starting a series of thrusts, as they're finally, finally joined together.

[freo]

She echoes his sharp intake of breath when he finally pushes into her, his cock a heftier intrusion than his fingers had been. At first, it merely feels a bit foreign, a curious feeling of... fullness. He pushes and withdraws, repeats, sliding deeper slowly but surely-- and now there is minute pain, a stretch and a burn; but nothing like she'd once imagined. He's hot and throbbing within her, his flesh joined with hers; finally married in the full sense of the word.

Unconsciously, she rocks her hips slightly, tipping them instinctively to accommodate him better and causing him to slip deeper still. She gasps against his lips, moaning into the kiss that turns into a soft cry when he moves again, beginning to thrust. Èowyn shudders, wrapping both legs around his hips and crossing her ankles at the small of his back, moaning louder as the small change in position causes him to reach deeper. It's not yet completely free of discomfort for her, but unraveling pleasure is slowly edging out the lingering sting.

"Faramir..." she whispers reverently, watching him under heavy eyelids, hands stroking through his hair and along his shoulders.

[whattheydefend]

He groans when she rocks her hips against him, kisses her again--but then she locks her feet behind his back, strokes his skin, and she's hot and wet and perfect around him and he cannot breathe, cannot think, can only keep moving inside her. He manages a few scraps of words between ragged gasps for air, love and meleth nîn and Èowyn, Èowyn, Èowyn...all of him is burning and the pressure builds and builds, and with it the pleasure.

And then he can't hold back longer however he tries, whatever he wishes. His thrusts become fast and hard, tension coiling low in his belly and then suddenly bursting. He comes with a loud cry, with a few more quick, hard, deep thrusts, his expression somewhere between agonized and ecstatic. He rests on his forearms above her, breathing hard and buried to the hilt, body shaking with release.

[freo]

Èowyn is more focused on watching the pleasure on Faramir's face than anything else, though his thrusts inside of her feel more and more pleasurable by the moment as her body relaxes and grows acclimated to his presence. She loves the feeling of their bodies entwined like this, moving against and with each other; a fine sheen of sweat gathers between her breasts and upon her brow, and she licks her lips as she strokes her hands along his shoulders and back, admiring the play of firm muscle beneath the skin as he moves, his words of endearment ringing in her ears.

She tips her head back on a low moan when he thrusts deeper and harder, panting for breath herself; but he's at the end of his rope, and comes undone a moment later. She shivers at the feel of him spending himself within her, watching him, loving that he is getting his turn at the same pleasure as she had a moment ago-- though a repeat of such release just eludes her, this time. She does not mind-- this was only their first time, and it was still pleasurable to her. They have all the time in the world to practice both technique and stamina.

"That was fun. May we do it again?" she asks with a small grin once he's had a moment to come down from his high, her tone playful as she gently brushes back his hair, caresses his face.

[whattheydefend]

It takes a few moments for Faramir to come back to himself, and when he does she is caressing his face and grinning. He laughs at her question, kissing her with open delight and wonder, his hands burying themselves in her hair.

"I see the rumors about the barbarians from the North are true, and I will have quite the challenge on my hands to keep you satisfied." He kisses her again, smiling against her mouth. "It is fortunate I am not a man to fear a challenge."

[freo]

Èowyn laughs quietly, smiling similarly against his lips when he kisses her once more. Her eyes are alight with affection and amusement when they part. "You would not have courted, much less married me, if you were such a man. I am afraid you must reap what you sow! Fortunately, I have every faith in that you will more than measure up to the task, my love."

Chuckling lowly at the implication, she draws a fingertip slowly across his lower lip, quite taken with this slightly disheveled look about him; she would not mind looking upon him in such state every day for the rest of their lives.

[whattheydefend]

"Mm, I certainly will enjoy trying to live up to your expectations." He kisses her fingertip in passing as it runs along his mouth, his eyes twinkling at her. "Though I will need a little time to recover first. That was...more intense even than I had expected." Another kiss, and he rubs his nose against hers. "You are wonderful, beloved. Thank you."

[freo]

"I suppose you have earned your moment of respite," she says with a sage nod, lips twitching with barely leashed amusement, a smile breaking through easily as their lips meet again. She can't remember the last time she smiled this much! Nor felt this happy. Humming from her throat, she closes her eyes briefly at the tender gesture.

"I am not certain why you are thanking me, but you are welcome." This time, it is her who tips her chin up to press another kiss to his mouth, murmuring softly when she pulls back, "I love you so much. I have never been this happy."

[whattheydefend]

"I am thanking you," he says, stroking her cheek and smiling at her, "because I have never been this happy either, nor imagined it possible until I met you. Because I love you with all my heart and think it miraculous that you love me as well."

He chuckles a little, shifting his hips against her. They remain joined, though he spoke truth when he said he will need time to recover. His smile turns faintly mischevious. "And because being able to do this every night for the rest of our lives is something I am very much looking forward to." He kisses her lightly, then chuckles again. "Every night, and possibly some days as well."

[freo]

The way he shifts against her pulls a tiny noise from her, turning into a chuckle of her own when he goes on so teasingly. "Oh, my lord. How you shock me!" She does not look it though, judging by the grin spreading to her lips. "During the day? What a scandal. Your barbarian wife does not seem to have to labor very hard to corrupt you, after all."

She laughs now, teasing him back, albeit softening her claims with another sweet kiss. "You may count on me being a very willing participant, my husband, be it day or night-- or both."

[whattheydefend]

"I do like the sound of both," he says, teasing kisses along her cheek and jaw. "Morning, noon, and night...for I was spent much too quickly this time, and clearly need more practice." He lifts his head to grin at her. He could apologize for it, but she looks so happy that there seems no need. And there are hours left in the night, after all.

[freo]

"Oh! Perhaps it is I who shall have to keep up with you, after all," she retorts with a laugh, tipping her head a little into his kisses and smiling.

"I daresay it is good you slaked the worst of your need first..." She arches a brow and smiles a little impishly back, lowering her tone as she goes on, fingertips running gently down his throat, "As I would have my turn exploring you properly in turn, ere we try again. In this matter, I am prepared to have much patience and care indeed."

[whattheydefend]

He tilts his head back to allow her fingers access, letting out a pleased sigh that could almost be called a purr. "If that is your will, my lady, I am at your disposal."

He kisses her again briefly, then lifts himself off her, withdrawing with a little regret and settling on his back on the mattress by her side, smiling at her. "Would you begin your explorations now, or wait some little while? For if you have been left unsatisfied, I would make amends..."

He caresses one of her breasts lightly, his expression now faintly mischevious.

[freo]

"Oh, it is," Èowyn confirms easily, smiling into the short kiss he gives her before moving off her; she's equally regretful to lose his comforting weight and warmth on top of her, but only for a moment. They would have ample opportunities yet to revisit such arrangement, and that is a thought that greatly delights her. She shivers a little in pleasure when he caresses her, humming softly as her nipple tightens under his ghostly touch.

"Mmm-- it is a tempting offer you make, husband mine. But, though I may not have reached my peak the same as you just now, that does not mean I was left unsatisfied in the least." She would make sure he knows that. It's her turn to roll onto her side now, her front pressing against his side as she smiles down at him, leaning in to kiss him lightly. Her hair swings forth like a golden curtain as she does to lay against his chest, and she chuckles softly into the kiss; a happy sound.

"I love you," she murmurs with a warm, fond smile when she pulls back a little, her hand stroking his chest as she mimes his earlier gesture, brushing her nose against his.

[whattheydefend]

He pulls her in when she kisses him, extending it beyond what she intended and stroking her hair. "I love you," he answers in heartfelt, nuzzling her in return and then smiling. "This is another thing I imagined, realize. You leaning over me, and all your glorious hair spread on my chest..."

His fingers trail from the crown of her head all the way down the length of her hair, stretching out a strand to its fullest limit. Faramir sighs a little, happily, as he twists it between his fingers. "Are you sure you are mortal? For this shines brighter than Elven gold, to my eyes."

[freo]

"Oh, yes?" She smiles fondly and indulgently down at him at her marvels at her hair and stretches out a strand of it, to her such an ordinary, commonplace thing among the famously fair-haired Rohirrim. "You truly are a poet, beloved."

She presses a light kiss to his brow, chuckling. "Alas, I fear you indeed wedded a mere mortal, I'm fairly certain of it." Another kiss, but this time she leans down to press her lips almost reverently against his shoulder, where the scarring from the poisoned arrow lays-- as if she could erase the marks from his skin by doing so. "I do love to hear about your imaginings. I have myself long envisioned doing that."

[whattheydefend]

Faramir has seen many fair-haired Rohirrim during his time in the Mark, but still Èowyn's seems to shine brighter than any other's. Though he will acknowledge he is a little biased.

He draws in his breath sharply as he kisses the scarred part of his shoulder. He cannot feel her lips there, for little feeling has yet returned to the outer skin where the mark lies, but there is something profoundly intimate about the act, and merely witnessing it affects him. "I had forgotten that promise," he murmurs. He reaches out and captures her left hand, brings it to his mouth and brushes his lips along the scarring on her lower forearm, then kisses the inside her her wrist. "What else have you envisioned, my wife?"

[freo]

Her eyes lid as she watches him kiss her own scars intently, her pulse sent skittering under the soft press of his mouth to the tender skin of her wrist. My wife, he calls her, and it still sounds utterly wondrous to Èowyn, her smile deepening in quiet pleasure as the words sink warmly under her skin. Her cheeks blush a little at the question, though, thinking back on some of the things she has imagined during their long wait; for all her bravery, she is not sure she could speak of them.

"Should I rather show you? You know I'm better at showing than telling. First I would tend to the rest of you, though-- have you more scars for me to kiss, husband? For I have not forgotten. I think I ought to look for myself."

He has lead the life of a warrior, so she already knows the mark on his shoulder is not the only one he bears. The delight is in finding them -- she would know his body down to the last inch. She leans in to kiss his lips, but does not allow him to deepen it this time, pulling back with a teasing smirk. Instead, she begins to scatter soft kisses over his chest, moving leisurely downward. She makes a tiny, victorious noise from her throat when she comes across her first discovery, pale slash of a scar a couple of inches in length under his left pectoral, long since healed.

"Found one," she murmurs gleefully, and draws the tip of her tongue slowly along the angled line of minutely raised flesh.

does she have other scars? he has lots, feel free to BS them

[whattheydefend]

"You do prefer action to words," he agrees, distracted by the brief kiss and letting out a sigh of disappointment when she ends it so quickly.

But the diffusion of kisses on his skin is more than worth the loss, not least because of her obvious delight in thus exploring him. Then she finds her first, and he watches her tongue slide along the faintly raised skin. That mark is old and better healed, and more tender as a result, so his breath catches sharply.

He leans up a little, the better to watch her. "Am I a treasure hunt, then?" The words come out lower and huskier than before; already he feels a stirring in his groin, far sooner than he would have expected possible.

less than he does, but some for sure! and ditto

[freo]

Èowyn drops a soft kiss onto that selfsame scar in fond farewell, enjoying the way he catches his breath at her attentions. "My love, you are a treasure all on your own," she smiles a little lopsidedly, a teasing glint in her eyes at such flowery response though she means every word.

She has other scars of her own, though none as impressive as the ones on her shield-arm; mostly from girlhood misadventures, tumbles and falls, such as the jagged one on the side of her knee -- or neater ones from sword practice. Faramir's are more clearly from battles, cuts and slashes and arrow punctures; she's determined to kiss them all better, despite knowing what a childish sentiment that is.

There's hardly anything childish, though, in the way she kisses across his ribs, only to find another mark; this one is larger, more vicious looking. She frowns down at it, brushing it gently with her fingertips. "Whence came this one?"

[whattheydefend]

Faramir's gaze softens at that fanciful compliment, and he reaches out to lay a hand on her head, stroking her hair again as she continues her search. His breath catches as her mouth wanders across skin never before thus traversed, and her hair brushes along his chest.

He shrugs a little as she frowns, not discomfited. "An orc, wielding a jagged, saw-edged blade. Many years ago. I was less experienced, and didn't see him in time."