a/n: this is a plotless collection of nothing.

Stars

She hadn't been there half an hour ago, yet there she was. When he passed by the open door of his cabin, he was yanked back as if lassoed, drawn stumbling back into the doorway by a flash of colour, white skin and dark hair and her feminine figure, lolling on the unmade bunk.

He leaned against the arced wall of the entrance, blinking, the usual greeting on his lips – hey, Sweetheart – but the pet name died swiftly on his lips, when he focused, looked closer, saw what she was wearing.

Lolling, not lolling on the bed – she was displayed, exhibited, one leg dangling attractively off the bunk, tiptoes brushing the floor, the other drawn up, knee pointed primly upwards as her head rested on the pillows and her eyes, her eyes gazed above her, somehow both unconcerned with his attention, and thriving on it.

She was all violet lace and bare skin, and Han bowed his head a moment, leaning heavily against his arm as he lifted his eyes to stare – giving her, willingly, the aching stare she had clearly come for – his gaze ravaged that lingerie, memorized the barely-there, floral stitching that roamed over her breasts and between her legs, covering her without covering a damn thing at all.

Leia turned her head, tapping her foot ever so lightly, her eyes alighting on him.

"Ha-a-an," she purred seductively, pursing her lips. "Come get me, hotshot."

He ran his hand over his mouth, lowering it to grasp at the collar of his shirt, short of breath. He lifted a brow, letting his hand drift down to his waist and tucking it into his belt.

"S'there an occasion?" he drawled huskily.

Leia rolled her head slowly, looking back up above her. Her shoulders moved fluidly in a coquettish shrug.

"I've forgotten what the top of this bunk looks like," she coaxed sweetly.

Han let his arm slide off the wall and strode forward, singlehandedly unfastening his belt as he moved. He whipped it through his belt loops deftly and dropped it to the floor near his boots, as Leia gracefully sat forward, turning to let both legs hang off the bunk, and look up at him through her lashes.

She reached for his hips, and loosened his zipper, sliding her palms into his trousers and teasing her palms over his warm skin. He hung his hand onto the top of the bunk and flashed her a grin, taking a knee in front of her. Her hands rose to his chest, and he bowed his head gallantly, reaching down to wrap his palm around her knee.

Leia fell back, tilting her head upwards with a sigh, lifting her other leg to place it over Han's shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the inside of her knee as he situated the other, lowering his other knee.

He turned his head to brush his mouth against her thigh, his breath hitching when she tightened her muscles just a little – she gave him such an incredible thrill, holding him like this, in a way that might be lethal, if he ever did her wrong.

He slid his hands over her and lowered his head, pressing his nose against her navel, and then scraping his teeth against the lace panties, his tongue darting out to tease her over them –

"Leia," he growled, his voice traveling through her like a shockwave, deep and vibrant between her legs –

She moaned a soft response –

"See anyhin' new up there?"

He nipped the edge of the lace with his teeth; she gasped –

"Stars - "

-alexandra

story #368