The Jenny & Jethro Fanfiction Archive


Vowel Sounds
- Osculate -

    Kissing is like drinking salt water, you drink and your thirst increases – Chinese Proverb.

    She couldn't get enough of his kisses. The sheer action of his lips connecting with hers made her pull him closer, trying to get more, even if 2 seconds before he had been glaring at her, or she had been shouting at him.

    She loves the way he kisses her gently, pulling her face towards his, hovering for a second or two, a second too long, before covering her mouth with his, inching her lips open, running his tongue over them begging access for his tongue, a low groan reverberating through her when she grants it.

    She loves the kisses when he is furious with her, hands curling around her arms, leaving bruises and pulling her roughly to him, not even waiting for permission. Those kisses take her breath away.

    She loves the kisses he trails down her spin, murmuring "mine" against her skin. She loves the kiss he once placed on her wrist, his teeth gently scraping the skin and the one he had once planted on her palm.

    She loves kissing him, almost as much as she loves being kissed by him, loves kissing the base of his throat and feels him swallow against her mouth, loves kissing along his jaw feeling the slight stubble brush against her skin, loves feeling his hands through her hair as she kisses down his chest, loves feeling his heartbeat through her lips when she kisses his temple as he sleeps peacefully on the floor of her study, wrapped in a blanket, in front of the fire.

    She loves the drawn out kisses, the kisses that occur when they have all the time in the world, and they can take that time re-discovering. Re-discovering that fact that he more often than not tastes of coffee, the fact that he has a weakness for her kissing his earlobe, the fact that she has a weakness for him kissing the base of her throat. The kisses shared over bourbon at the end of a long week, her legs over his, food lying forgotten on the table are some of her favorites.

    She loves the frantic kisses, the ones that would leave her breathless as he barges his way into her office and pulls her from her chair, or when she finds him in his basement and kisses him like there is no tomorrow, tearing at his clothes, wishing there was nothing in between them but skin, or the ones in the elevator, praying that no one will put two and two together and realizes that she is in there with him.

    She loves the stolen kisses in corridors, quick ones, when he places his lips over hers for a second, always too short and she has to fight to let him go. The ones he places on her hair when he thinks no one is looking, the ones he places in her hair when he thinks she's asleep.

    She loves the kisses that leave her wondering if she has actually been kissed or not. The kisses that leave her pulse slightly racing, all because he has pulled her to him and murmured something against her lips, not actually touching them, but close enough that she can almost taste him, then he smiles and leaves her wondering.

    She doesn't know which kisses she loves more, but as he winds his fingers with her and brings their hands to his mouth and kisses her knuckles she knows that it doesn't matter which she loves more, she doesn't have to make her mind up, because she is going to feel all of them again, over and over.


    Sorry about this one! Osculate, for those of you that didn't know (and I didn't, I had to look it up after Ellie demanded that I use this word) means to kiss, or to make contact.

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