rogueonekink | ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

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Obviously Galen is a good bit older than Bodhi (I'm assuming Bodhi is about Jyn's age). I don't care how you work it, I just want Bodhi calling Galen Daddy while they're doing the do.

plEASE

Ok so here's this (set sometime after Battle o Yavin, in some lowkey Ord Mantell inn or something where they've settled temporarily to work on clean energy research together or something idk what is lore):

Dawn in Fog:

                Bodhi Rook's stirred from his sleep by the sound of raindrops pattering against the
window behind him. His gaze follows the droplets' faint shadows trickling against the far wall. He yawns and rubs his eye languidly with the back of his hand and feels in quiet response a fingertip glide softly along his clavicle toward his shoulder. He sighs fondly. Galen Erso pulls gently away from his collarbone and follows up with a caress to the angle of his jaw. “Hey,” the young man mutters, rolling onto his other side.

                “Hey, morning,” the man before him exhales, brushing his thumb against Bodhi’s bristly jaw again, tracing down toward his chin. Galen leans forward to press his mouth to Bodhi’s brow.

                Bodhi leans into the palm still cupping the side of his face, pressing a tiny kiss
into it before kissing Galen on the mouth. “It’s raining,” he says, his mouth
stretching into a small, blissful grin that twitches just a bit with exhilaration. When they'd met it had been raining. It had, of course, been raining during just about every encounter he'd ever had with Galen up until a couple of days earlier, when they'd managed to reunite under more temperate skies. And though the Eadu rains had borne witness to plenty of terror and stress, with Galen so near they were overshadowed now by electrifying memories of bold insurrection and treasonous desire.

                “That it is,” Galen replies. “No hike for us then, it seems.” As he speaks, Bodhi
shifts under the sheets toward him, grasping Galen’s hand in his, nudging the
man onto his back. Galen rolls back passively, his eyes crinkling, amused, as
they follow Bodhi nimbly hoisting himself up to sit astride him. “Unless you insist,
in which case I will, of course, be helpless to refuse.”

                “No,” Bodhi hums as Galen’s hands fall away from his own to roam up his thighs and rest on his hips, rubbing circles into them. “We should definitely stay in.” He leans back, bracing himself with a palm against the mattress behind him, arching up into Galen’s touch. He shivers, a bead of perspiration trickling down his spine and plummeting onto the fabric of Galen’s shorts. Bodhi tugs the engineer’s hands up to gather handfuls of the t-shirt that billows down to his own bare thighs. “Get this off of me, Galen,” he whispers with an edge of insistence.

                Galen snakes an arm from Bodhi’s waist to the divot of his lower back. “Do I have
to?” he asks, propping himself up on his forearm to better rake his gaze up
and down the young man atop him. “It looks so much more handsome on you, I
think.” Bodhi had always had a habit of occasionally warming himself in Galen’s shirts during liminal moments between their wakefulness and their nakedness. This one is a soft heathered grey garment with the chemical symbol for caffeine printed on the chest. The collar slopes off of his narrow shoulders and the end of the sleeve falls past his elbow on that side.

                “You would,” Bodhi replies, returning Galen’s smirk in a playful challenge. He raises
his hands to frame the sides of Galen’s face and cranes slowly toward it until they are a hair’s breadth apart. “Just be sure you can handle it.” He then leans back again, a low, barely-audible laugh rumbling in his throat at the sound of Galen’s breathy gasp and at the distinct hardness pressing against him from below.

                Galen mumbles, stammering, his eyes still shut from when he’d closed them in anticipation of meeting Bodhi’s mouth. By the time he’s settled on a discontented groan, Bodhi is sidling back between Galen’s legs and tugging down upon the waistband of the man’s shorts. “Enjoying
ourselves, are we?” Galen finally manages with a breathy sigh.

                “Just getting started, old man.”

Before Galen can protest Bodhi’s word choice the latter licks a stripe up the underside of his stone-rigid shaft. Galen curses under his breath as his head falls back. Just as he's summoned the strength to look forward again Bodhi ensnares his gaze with his huge, dark eyes and steals his breath away just as he’s gathered it back. With a devious glint Bodhi seals his mouth in a tiny circle upon the very tip.

                “Shit,” Galen says, weaving his fingers into the waves of Bodhi’s hair. “Ah, stars—” Rook sucks and tongues the slit of his penis, sliding his right
hand steadily up and down the shaft. “Baby, come here,” Galen groans, reaching for a moment over Bodhi’s shoulder before returning his palm to the back of the young man’s head. “Let me touch you.”

                Bodhi moans indulgently, then pulls his mouth away with a faint, wet pop. “Yeah?”
he’s cooing, reaching between his own legs to stroke himself a couple of times.
Settling his mouth back onto Galen’s cock he rotates over so that he’s kneeling
perpendicularly to the man’s hip. Galen hastens to claim a handful of Bodhi’s
ass and inches his way into the depth of it, rubbing over his entrance and tailbone. Bodhi moans again, deeply, having returned fully to his efforts, sliding his mouth further to the base and up to just under the head over and over.

Galen pulls haltingly at the inside of Bodhi’s thigh, urging him wordlessly to scoot further, to straddle him backwards. Bodhi complies and Galen wastes no time in securing a hearty grasp on the rich, supple twin curves of his rear, kneading them into each other with deep reverence. “Fuck.”

Bodhi gasps, leaving the tip of Galen’s dick resting on his tongue until the gasp turns into a full-bodied moan in response to the cool, wet swipe of Galen’s tongue upon him. Whispered fragments of Galen’s name escape from his trembling lips. He ends up abandoning his head-giving efforts for the moment, substituting with erratic strokes from his loosened grip. Galen hardly minds, occupying himself fully with the task of teasing around Bodhi’s entrance, straining only the slightest bit to fight the urge to devour the man all at once.

                Before long Bodhi surrenders all hope of finishing the job and instead casts his efforts into gripping the bedsheets between Galen’s knees so tightly one might have wondered if he were trying not to float away. With sharp, staccato inhales Bodhi rocks back into Galen as the man buries the lower half of his face in the soft inner crest of his ass, tongue sliding between the two halves of it. By the time Galen has him slicked up enough to take the tip of his index inside, Bodhi’s just barely hanging on, biting his bottom lip, dripping pre-come onto Galen’s abdomen.

“You’re not getting too close, honey, are you?” Galen asks with a kiss to Bodhi’s thigh, his otherwise unoccupied hand gripping his hip gently but possessively. Bodhi would have scoffed at the underlying smugness in Galen’s voice if he weren't so busy losing his mind. “Do you want to turn around for me?”

Bodhi groans a hearty “Fuuck,” his eyes clamped shut as tightly as his hands yet clutch the bed linen. Shooting off early hadn't been part of his original plan to give his boyfriend the best morning head of his life. He finds it sneaky how Galen always seems to let him paint himself into these corners. What should've been a second groan squeaks out as more of a low whine as he arches his body back into Galen one last time before digging his resolve up from under the latter's distracting touches. With a deep exhale, Bodhi sits upright and pivots around Galen's torso. “Dangerous,” he murmurs, placing the tip of his index on the center of Galen’s mouth. “Dangerous weapon. I need to remember that.” The corners of Galen’s mouth tilt up a bit on either side of Bodhi’s fingertip before opening a sliver and snagging it between his teeth. “I mean, you do want to save some room for breakfast, yeah?” Bodhi asks in a facetiously concerned tone, ignoring Galen pulling his finger in further and nibbling at it.

Galen nudges the digit into the corner of his mouth with his tongue to mumble, “You're trying to starve me, Bodhi.”

Rook’s face flushes a bit. Galen is obviously still as hard as ever but his composed mien doesn't betray an ounce of that. His eyes swirl with desire to be sure, and Bodhi feels the heat of his blood through the palm stroking slowly up and down his thigh, but still he wonders if he'll ever get the chance to see the man lose his breath with desire at the height of their fucking, or feel his hands tremble as they ghost over his spine before his own climax fogs his consciousness. “I mean, the fingering, you can keep at it,” Bodhi says, passively letting Galen draw another digit in over his tongue. “As in, you'd better not stop doing it.”

Galen growls his contentment softly in his throat, swirling his tongue around Bodhi’s fingertips. He then lets them fall away and raises himself upright from his forearms. “Understood, baby.” The bass of his voice stirs the lust in Bodhi’s core, and his body slackens into the arms winding snugly around his waist. He sighs, his hands over Galen’s sternum, as the latter cranes his face gingerly upward, pressing a light kiss to Bodhi’s chin and then brushing their mouths pressurelessly together. Bodhi tilts his head to the right at the same measured pace. Like plates of earth they collide, inexorable, each man giving in to the other as certainly as he devours him. When after a moment they pause for breath Galen takes the opportunity to slide his hands up along either side of his rib cage, along the way slipping his shirt nimbly over the young man’s head and tossing it into the blue-dark ahead . As Galen surges further forward, Bodhi leans back into his arms, his hips canting, chest ebbing. Galen holds him as if he is a stream of quicksilver: fiercely, like he is too precious to let go; fluidly, savoring every minute sensation as if he might any moment trickle away.

Bodhi’s shoulder meets the surface of the bed as Galen sets him down. His hands drift up to Galen’s face but with a parting press of his mouth to Bodhi’s brow the man turns back to reach their side table. Bodhi lets his head fall back and runs his hands over his own downy stomach and the base of his shaft, listening to Galen rummaging for lubricant. When the man reemerges in his field of vision, Bodhi feels his own pulse thrumming in anticipation. His gaze latches onto Galen’s hands, watching him pour out a little pool of fluid. He wills his eyes to keep from falling shut out of premature bliss or whatever it is that's fluttering so impatiently in his chest. It seems like an eternity before he feels the cool wetness against his hole and the first half of Galen’s index slipping deftly back into him.

“Ohhhh, Celestials…” Bodhi moans, succumbing to a sensation that was like heavy waves of molten gold billowing out over him from where Galen was easing him open. “Fuck, that’s so good, oh fuck.” Galen dips downward from where he hovers over Bodhi to kiss firm, lingering affirmations all over the young man’s neck, his ear, and his jaw. Bodhi hooks a leg over his forearm and covers Galen’s knuckles with his other hand, urging him to prod further. Galen’s pace remains steady and deliberate. After sliding a second digit past Bodhi’s entrance he crooks the tips of both against the roof of it but bides his time with honing in on his main quarry.

“Baby, I'll take care of you. Okay?” Galen murmurs into Bodhi’s neck. “I'll give you everything you need.” Bodhi drops the tension that he hadn't realized he’d been holding in his shoulders and melts deeper into the mattress, letting, Galen carry his raised leg onto his shoulder. He follows his promise with impassioned, nibbling kisses to the side of the young pilot’s neck that would probably raise the skin there into faint welts by the evening. In a moment Bodhi feels it, the graze of Galen’s touch against his sensitive spot, and his body surges with a bolt of arousal.

Time and space are impossible to keep track of, now, as every movement Galen makes within him overwhelms Bodhi’s senses with blinding pulses. He anchors himself to the man above him, grappling onto his broad, sinewy frame. Galen’s kissing his way along the side of Bodhi’s face, matching the rhythm with which the young man’s body oscillates into the thrusting and retracting of his fingers. The hairs along Bodhi’s jaw bristle, portending the needy pleas that Galen has learned to expect with his heightening.

Galen turns his face a degree toward the ankle on his shoulder, kisses it, scrapes his canine affectionately across the skin just above it. “You feel so, so good baby.” Beneath the shadow of his dampening brow his latent savagery glows behind his as of yet intact mantle of gentility. “Could I be inside you?” he whispers, voice quivering almost imperceptibly on the penultimate syllable. “Would you like that?”

Bodhi’s nodding earnestly before Galen finishes his second question. “So bad,” he sighs. He braces himself with a light grip upon Galen’s chest as the man carefully lines the tip of his shaft just against Bodhi’s opening. Galen sinks smoothly into him, though above he is wincing, restraining himself as best as he can from plunging too far all at once. Bodhi doesn't make it easy, gripping the man’s waist fervently and tugging him closer. “Fuck, yeah,” he’s panting. “Come on...”

“Hold tight, baby,” Galen assures him, his brow knotted intently but his grimace smoothed over with a visage of quiet ecstasy. “I've got you.”

Bodhi grasps blindly at Galen’s trunk with his head tilted back, his mouth quivering with halting whimpers. “Oh, stars, stars—" and "—so fucking deep, fuck,” is about the most Galen can discern before the pilot’s whines devolve into stammering, unintelligible squeaks.

Galen leans in to kiss Rook’s temple placatingly. He hesitates to catch the young man’s trembling mouth with his own, listening a moment for the sound he was half sure he had imagined. “What's that, honey?” he asks patiently, kissing his clinging affections into the bared, tender flesh of Bodhi’s throat. “Tell me what you need.”

Bodhi groans his submission in response to the warm ministrations against his neck. Timorously he lets the fragments of his moans fall together. “Dd— please… please…” He inhales sharply at the feeling of Galen’s cock head brushing against his prostate as the result of the diminishing distance between them. “Dddaddy-- more, harder…, please…” Bodhi latches reflexively onto the meaty ridge of Galen's chest, casting his wide, earnest gaze upward as his eyes flicker open. “Please?”

Galen's eyes grow steely in ardent acceptance of Bodhi’s challenge before lifting both of the latter's legs onto his shoulders and steadily, carefully folding him back acute. He holds Rook firmly by the hip with one hand, the other holding himself up, perspiration rolling like rain off of the veins pulsing in his forearm. “Anything,” he grunts. His lower half lurches into a vigorous piston’s rhythm, drawing a stream of stout moans and throaty whimpers. Rook’s shins quake behind Erso’s shoulders, reinforcing the former’s awareness of just how lost in the primal immediacy of the fuck he is, yielding himself completely, anything as long as Galen remains heavy and definite over him, inside him, all around him.

(continues...)

(...continued)

Bodhi’s now straddling the border of consciousness and blinding, ethereal ecstasy but he’s lucid enough to know how close he is to pulling Galen over the edge with him. “Fill me up,” he stammers, yanking the other man’s bleary, pinning gaze into immediate focus. “Don’t fucking stop, just fill me.” He runs his hands fervently over the thick, virile bristles of Galen’s abdomen, drawing short groans from him. “Come in me, Galen, don't stop…”

Galen shoots just about immediately with a subdued roar, jarring his face skyward as he pounds the last of his stuttering strokes into the man under him. He keeps ramming his pelvis into Bodhi’s, jaw clenched dead tight, his body shuddering with the occasional jolt as the latter grasps breathlessly at his neck, his shoulders and his face, jetting ejaculate all over the both of them.

“That's it, Bodhi, come for me, let me feel you," Galen pants. Wearily he opens the eyes he had been straining furiously to keep from crossing just a moment earlier, anchoring himself by gliding his hands in firm, devoted strokes over every inch within reach of his dear, exhausted little swain. “So good, Bodhi, so fucking perfect...” Before long he stabilizes enough to properly soothe the other.

As his climax simmers and dissipates, Bodhi feels Galen’s arms wrap around his sprawled form. He gently gathers Bodhi up against him, holding him faster than he holds onto consciousness. They make it back to the upper end of the bed, Galen thumbing softly over Bodhi’s cheek and brushing the sweat-dampened strands of hair from his face. Bodhi buries his face contentedly into the steadfast warmth of his sternum.

When Galen emerges from the fresher later, his shorts reequipped but his burly trunk dewy with perspiration, Bodhi almost wants to tell him not to dry himself off just yet but he feels a little weird about it. He figures he's too spent to handle getting that steamed up again so soon anyway.

“You should stretch.”

“Hm?” Bodhi coughs out distractedly. His focus sharpens just in time to catch the towel Galen tosses to him. “Yeah, I'll do it.”

Galen’s back in the fresher filling a glass from the tap. He lifts his own from the counter and after a swig replies, “I mean now, before your muscles murder you.”

Bodhi groans exaggeratedly and protests for the hell of it. “I'm too tired,” he whines. “I’m too hungry. You can't make me.” Drying himself off with contented languor, he adds, “Though you could make me an egg or two if you please.” He's determined, initially, to see if he can lay there long enough to make Galen impatient enough to move him but ends up abandoning that half of the plan, sitting up enough to trade his towel for the glass when the latter reemerges.

“I'll make you whatever you'd like after you've had a stretch, my friend,” Galen says, hiding his amusement poorly behind his best attempt at sternness. He sets Bodhi's water on a side table once the young man’s had a bit. Bodhi’s sitting with his back halfway facing him at an angle now so he sighs and cooperatively takes the bait. “You know,” he says, guiding the snickering pilot upright and then carefully pressing him forward over his leg so that he can reach along it more easily, “if you’d like some rough handling, you can always ask.”

“Yeah,” Bodhi says, savoring the feeling of Galen’s weight over him, of the bracing hands along his sides and his waist. “But then your heart wouldn't be in it, big guy.”

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ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

Galen/Bodhi, Daddy kink

Re: Galen/Bodhi, Daddy kink

Re: Galen/Bodhi, Daddy kink

Re: Galen/Bodhi, Daddy kink