shiparmada:

toophorm

replied to your

post

:

I’m bored, anxious, and writing fic, so I’m here…

Please do something with their height difference!! I would love to see Chirrut’s reaction when he realized that Baze is bigger than him in “ANY PART”
Thank you in advance. I’m a big fan of your fiction !!!

(Thank you! I’m a big fan of height differences!! Have something cute and not very serious smut.)

Baze has always been taller. When they were young Chirrut used to go up to him and compare their heights, before proudly exclaiming that one day he would be taller.

That day never came of course, and when Chirrut’s vision started to go it seemed less and less important. With each passing day, as the world started turning gray, and more details went missing, Chirrut cared less about how he looked or how others perceived him. Baze being taller was just another part of Baze, not better or worse than Chirrut, just simply bigger.

Keep reading

poplitealqueen:

Hunny bunny, you could ask me to write a fucking novel about Spiritassassin kisses and I’d respond with, “How many chapters?”

I’m afraid I still haven’t found that wayward prompt list yet, so here’s just a random kissing scene.

***

Four minutes and thirty-three seconds. That’s how long their mouths are together before Baze has to pull away to gulp down some desperately-needed air.

Initiate Imwê whines as he does, *actually* whines, and Baze wonders again how any of the senior monks in the temple could think this man couldn’t complete a simple errand into the city on his own. He has the stamina and stubbornness of a kriffing bantha.

“We need to be getting back,” Baze says, breathlessly. Imwê only smiles impishly at him, poking his tongue out to run along his kiss-swollen lips. Baze grunts, his cock twitching at the sight. For a man born blind, Chirrut Imwê knows exactly how good he looks.

“They won’t miss us for an hour, or two.” Imwê sneaks a hand beneath the fold of Baze’s tunic, brushing his fingers over a pebbly nipple. “I know you’ve wanted this. The Force whispers it to me…”

Baze rolls his eyes and hefts Imwê a little bit higher against the alley wall. Imwê responds with a soft giggle and tightening his legs around Baze’s waist. By the Whills, Baze is sure Imwê could snap him in half if he wanted to. Chirrut Imwê, it is completely apparent, is not someone to be underestimated.

“Ten minutes,” Baze says, before pressing his face into the side of Imwê’s long neck and rolling a patch of skin between his teeth.

Imwê keens. “Make it twenty and I’ll give you a blowjob.”

Hells. That goes straight to Baze’s crotch. “And I suppose the Force whispered that to you as well?”

The muscles in Imwê’s neck tighten as smiles. “Such blasphemy from the most respected Guardian-to-be on Jehda! I should report you, but first. Do we have a deal?”

For some reason, it feels as though this promise is one that goes far deeper than Baze anticipates. Something tells me he won’t be free of Imwê any time soon.

He can live with that.

“Deal.”