It has thus far been a relatively normal day. The mutant woke up early and got in some training before snaking food from the mess area to eat in the oxygen gardens where she could pretend that she wasn't stuck on a ship in an unidentified universe with no way back to her own place and time. And then she returned to her shared apartment for a long, hot shower.
Her hair's mostly dry by the time she finishes that last couple of chapters from the book she borrowed from Cobb, standing up to return it to him while she remembered. She's not quite taken to wearing leggings in their shared spaces since whether by stylistic preference or choice the cowboy rarely bares much skin himself, and so she indulges in less clothes than usual when she can. Today it's a comfortable, if not a bit over-sized, long-sleeved shirt from Sarano, one of her own that she stole to sleep in more safely.
She's not even two steps out of her room when she's hit with a wall of lust that has her reaching out to steady herself on the door frame, her gaze immediately searching out and finding Cobb's. No empathy bond is necessary to read her, not that he often needs that link to have her figured. And a moment later she's purposefully striding across the common area, setting the book down on some convenient surface, and then climbs slowly into his lap, drawing it out with her thighs brushing against his legs before she settles her weight on him with a grin.
"You looked lonely," she points out, and before Rogue can stop herself, she frames his face with fingertips along his beard then full hands against the scruffy swath of it, pulling him into a languid, savoring kiss with a noise that's part groan and part growl.
God she's needed the feel and taste of him like she needed air. So, without any consequence whatsoever, the younger woman allows herself to willingly drown. Lucky for both of them her mutation seems to have been nulled by the weird magic happening on the ship.
cw: eventual sex + threesome
Her hair's mostly dry by the time she finishes that last couple of chapters from the book she borrowed from Cobb, standing up to return it to him while she remembered. She's not quite taken to wearing leggings in their shared spaces since whether by stylistic preference or choice the cowboy rarely bares much skin himself, and so she indulges in less clothes than usual when she can. Today it's a comfortable, if not a bit over-sized, long-sleeved shirt from Sarano, one of her own that she stole to sleep in more safely.
She's not even two steps out of her room when she's hit with a wall of lust that has her reaching out to steady herself on the door frame, her gaze immediately searching out and finding Cobb's. No empathy bond is necessary to read her, not that he often needs that link to have her figured. And a moment later she's purposefully striding across the common area, setting the book down on some convenient surface, and then climbs slowly into his lap, drawing it out with her thighs brushing against his legs before she settles her weight on him with a grin.
"You looked lonely," she points out, and before Rogue can stop herself, she frames his face with fingertips along his beard then full hands against the scruffy swath of it, pulling him into a languid, savoring kiss with a noise that's part groan and part growl.
God she's needed the feel and taste of him like she needed air. So, without any consequence whatsoever, the younger woman allows herself to willingly drown. Lucky for both of them her mutation seems to have been nulled by the weird magic happening on the ship.