Kisses. Lots of kisses.
Hi friends,
It's date night, isn't it? Unless you're in Australia where it's already well into the morning after walk of shame, right?
On the subject of kisses... I have been rather inspired by scribbulus_ink's post of Five Kisses.
So, in honor of date night, the morning after, the month of February, and what I hope will be a fabulous kiss later on from Mr. Bean, I present Five Kisses. Four for our dear friend Hermione from various folks and one for Jon Stewart from a Mr. Stephen Colbert. Except for the Jon/Stephen, they're all rated PG. Jon and Stephen are wandering into the R territory.
What about you? I'd absolutely LOVE to get some comment-kisses from each of you... whether it's in drabble, drawble, or icon form. Leave me a kiss please. Any fandom or RPS is fine with me. Whatever you want! (Though a little Aziraphale/Crowley wouldn't go amiss).
xoxoMary
Hermione/Draco.
It had been a long time coming, she thought as she leaned towards him, her eyes already half-closed. So much had happened. So much had changed. But as his lips closed over hers, she knew all that was in the past now. Not that it didn’t matter. It did. In fact, it mattered so much that her heart was racing. It was all she could do not to push him against the wall and scream at him for the risks he took. She figured kissing was just a better way to tell him.
Hermione/Ron.
Her eyes were open. Someone had to see what was going on, after all. She knew first hand about Ron’s previous experiences. Though she’d refrained from giving any last-minute pointers, she was not about to risk his lips landing anywhere other than on hers for this first kiss. So she shouldn’t have been surprised when his warm lips grazed across hers. But she was. And when she opened her eyes, she saw only the warmest of smiles and perhaps a hint of a smirk reflecting in his.
Hermione/Remus.
His breath tickles her as he rubs his stubbly cheek against the sensitive flesh of her neck. She leans into his touch, hoping that his lips will find hers. But Remus continues to tease her, seemingly ignoring her plaintive whimpers. In times like this, she wishes she could just tell him to get on with it. She uses her hands instead, fingers grazing the sides of a face she hasn’t seen for a decade, and guides him towards her mouth. His tongue moves inside of her, always gentle, always loving. She sighs contentedly, expressing herself in one of the few ways still left to her.
Hermione/Tonks.
Supple and deliciously pliant, Hermione thinks drowsily. The touch seems familiar but one can never tell. Hermione doesn’t yet want to open her eyes. It could be anyone. (It isn’t). But it could be. Once before, she was awakened by a deep satisfying and thoroughly hot kiss only to discover that she was getting turned on by an incredibly believable likeness of Minerva McGonagall. Tonks and her sense of humor, Hermione thinks. But the kiss draws her back in and she forgets how her former Head of House looks when she’s aroused. These lips kissing her now are warm and inviting and again, Hermione is struck with a strong sense of familiarity - and something else, a tender sweetness. A tongue sweeps across her own and she opens her eyes, moaning just a little. She smiles into the rather unremarkable pale face of a mousy-haired young woman - but it’s the face she loves.
Jon/Stephen.
When those lips find his, hesitant only for a fraction of a second, he’s admittedly startled. But it’s in the kind of way that one is surprised when something inevitable finally happens. They were laughing just a second ago. Not that anything was particularly funny. Perhaps they were laughing precisely because things were not funny. But when one is laughing, one isn’t crying, right? One isn’t admitting helplessness. He sighs. It’s not the right response to this kiss although his cock is certainly getting hard. But then, this kiss isn’t exactly the right thing to be doing, either. That doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth, coaxing Stephen’s tongue in even further. It doesn’t stop him from leaning in to his broad shoulders and angling his hips so that Stephen knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s provoking. It’s hot - like he knew it would be. And he wonders why this has never happened before.
ETA: Comments now contain lovely icons and delicious comment fic, including a rather clever take on my Aziraphale/Crowley request, as well as links to others' 5 Kisses. Enjoy! And keep the kisses coming. It can be date night all weekend, loves!
It's date night, isn't it? Unless you're in Australia where it's already well into the morning after walk of shame, right?
On the subject of kisses... I have been rather inspired by scribbulus_ink's post of Five Kisses.
So, in honor of date night, the morning after, the month of February, and what I hope will be a fabulous kiss later on from Mr. Bean, I present Five Kisses. Four for our dear friend Hermione from various folks and one for Jon Stewart from a Mr. Stephen Colbert. Except for the Jon/Stephen, they're all rated PG. Jon and Stephen are wandering into the R territory.
What about you? I'd absolutely LOVE to get some comment-kisses from each of you... whether it's in drabble, drawble, or icon form. Leave me a kiss please. Any fandom or RPS is fine with me. Whatever you want! (Though a little Aziraphale/Crowley wouldn't go amiss).
xoxoMary
Hermione/Draco.
It had been a long time coming, she thought as she leaned towards him, her eyes already half-closed. So much had happened. So much had changed. But as his lips closed over hers, she knew all that was in the past now. Not that it didn’t matter. It did. In fact, it mattered so much that her heart was racing. It was all she could do not to push him against the wall and scream at him for the risks he took. She figured kissing was just a better way to tell him.
Hermione/Ron.
Her eyes were open. Someone had to see what was going on, after all. She knew first hand about Ron’s previous experiences. Though she’d refrained from giving any last-minute pointers, she was not about to risk his lips landing anywhere other than on hers for this first kiss. So she shouldn’t have been surprised when his warm lips grazed across hers. But she was. And when she opened her eyes, she saw only the warmest of smiles and perhaps a hint of a smirk reflecting in his.
Hermione/Remus.
His breath tickles her as he rubs his stubbly cheek against the sensitive flesh of her neck. She leans into his touch, hoping that his lips will find hers. But Remus continues to tease her, seemingly ignoring her plaintive whimpers. In times like this, she wishes she could just tell him to get on with it. She uses her hands instead, fingers grazing the sides of a face she hasn’t seen for a decade, and guides him towards her mouth. His tongue moves inside of her, always gentle, always loving. She sighs contentedly, expressing herself in one of the few ways still left to her.
Hermione/Tonks.
Supple and deliciously pliant, Hermione thinks drowsily. The touch seems familiar but one can never tell. Hermione doesn’t yet want to open her eyes. It could be anyone. (It isn’t). But it could be. Once before, she was awakened by a deep satisfying and thoroughly hot kiss only to discover that she was getting turned on by an incredibly believable likeness of Minerva McGonagall. Tonks and her sense of humor, Hermione thinks. But the kiss draws her back in and she forgets how her former Head of House looks when she’s aroused. These lips kissing her now are warm and inviting and again, Hermione is struck with a strong sense of familiarity - and something else, a tender sweetness. A tongue sweeps across her own and she opens her eyes, moaning just a little. She smiles into the rather unremarkable pale face of a mousy-haired young woman - but it’s the face she loves.
Jon/Stephen.
When those lips find his, hesitant only for a fraction of a second, he’s admittedly startled. But it’s in the kind of way that one is surprised when something inevitable finally happens. They were laughing just a second ago. Not that anything was particularly funny. Perhaps they were laughing precisely because things were not funny. But when one is laughing, one isn’t crying, right? One isn’t admitting helplessness. He sighs. It’s not the right response to this kiss although his cock is certainly getting hard. But then, this kiss isn’t exactly the right thing to be doing, either. That doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth, coaxing Stephen’s tongue in even further. It doesn’t stop him from leaning in to his broad shoulders and angling his hips so that Stephen knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s provoking. It’s hot - like he knew it would be. And he wonders why this has never happened before.
ETA: Comments now contain lovely icons and delicious comment fic, including a rather clever take on my Aziraphale/Crowley request, as well as links to others' 5 Kisses. Enjoy! And keep the kisses coming. It can be date night all weekend, loves!