skintightsocks:

Here, have 3,500 words of Darren going down on Dianna based off of his facial hair in this picture. :D

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“I always say there’s just something about vinyl,” Dianna says, stretching out lazily on the floor and laughing when Darren’s head slides from her chest to her stomach with the movement. “I always say it.”

“Totally, man,” Darren says, rubbing his nose against the hem of her t-shirt. They’re not even stoned, but then again, Darren always cuddles like it’s his job. “It’s like, the imperfections, you know? The pops and the static. It’s so raw.”

“Raw!” Dianna says. “Exactly, that is exactly it, it’s raw.” Darren hums his agreement and nuzzles against her stomach, singing along to the chorus of Take Me Into Town, his lips tickling against her skin where her shirt’s ridden up and his facial hair scratching. She squeals a little, trying to squirm away, but Darren grabs onto her hips and blows a raspberry against her skin, loud and obnoxious.

“Stop it, asshole, I’m ticklish,” she laughs, pushing at his head, and Darren grins up at her from beneath his eyelashes, his warm eyes sparkling before he lets out a truly impressive evil laugh and rubs his face against her stomach, his short beard scratching at her skin.

“You’re the worst,” she groans, grabbing onto his hair and tugging until he lifts his head up, still grinning at her.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, batting his eyes in a way that he obviously thinks is charming. It would be funny if he wasn’t right.

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SWEET FUCK IT’S AMAZING.