... whooops

anonymous asked:

30. Out of necessity, please c:

30. cuddling out of necessity, also requested by @brambleberrycottage and @clytemnestrad

Jyn has a glass of liquor halfway to her lips, carefully scanning the ballroom over the rim, when Cassian appears suddenly in front of her: eyes narrow, jaw tight.

He tugs just a moment on the high collar of his suit—he hates the thing, when Jyn not-so-secretly finds hilarious—and then lays a hand on her arm.

“Listen carefully,” he mutters, plucking the glass from her fingers and moving to set it on a side table. “I am over here telling you that I sealed the deal with Kavak. You need to react accordingly, in case we’re being watched.”

Jyn scowls. “So Kavak is selling out to the Empire. That two-faced—”

“Yes dear,” Cassian interrupts, smiling through gritted teeth. His voice is low enough that only she can hear it. “But as you recall, we are with the Empire. So this is good news.”

Right. Fat lot of good it would do to whip out her blaster and shoot Kavak here, in the middle of a damn party; they can’t cause a scene. Which means she needs to react the way an Imperial officer’s wife would, knowing her husband has just made a sinister, behind-doors deal to increase the Empire’s power and their own personal wealth at the expense of the lives of innocent civilians.

“Uh,” says Jyn, managing a crooked smile. “Hooray?”

Cassian blinks at her for a moment, clearly appalled. Then he sets his jaw.

“Don’t hit me,” he mutters, before striding forward and wrapping his arms tight around her, yanking her flush to his chest. One arm snakes around her lower back, palm resting firmly on her hip, and his other hand cups the back of her head, fingers sliding through her hair.

And of course it makes sense: it’s the appropriate strategic manoeuvre, given their situation. What doesn’t make sense is the way Jyn’s breath has caught, the way her heart has started racing, the way the skin of her neck burns where she can feel his breath.

“You need to smile,” Cassian reminds her, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “To make it convincing.”

Jyn tries, but her face refuses to move that way, still frozen in a state of semi-shock. So she does the next best thing: she closes her arms around his waist and buries her head into his shoulder, neatly tucking her face out of view.

Cassian inhales, sharp.

“This work?” Jyn mumbles.

Cassian’s thumb strokes a slow line across the base of her neck, a miniscule motion, something the rest of the room probably won’t even notice.

“Yeah. This works.”

“How long should we stay like this?”

“Oh, uh—” Cassian clears his throat. “Probably just another few seconds.”

“Let’s go a bit longer,” Jyn suggests, glad he can’t see the way her cheeks are surely reddening. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay,” Cassian agrees, voice a touch shaky. “Just to be sure.”

bubblesandpages  asked:

37 for Ladynoir or Adrinette please?

“Can you just shut up for five minutes?”

She frowned at him in shock but stopped talking. He didn’t say anything back. He had wanted to say something but now that she was quiet and looking at him and right there, he didn’t know what to say. Marinette kept her eyes on him and they were the same colour that they had always been. They were the same colour as Ladybug’s eyes because they were Ladybug’s eyes and he’d just never noticed.

“Chat Noir?” she finally said when he’d let it go on for too long. 


“Shut up,” she said. 

She started to hold up a hand to clamp over his mouth and then stopped. It was like she’d forgotten how to be Ladybug once the suit was gone. Her Kwami sat on her shoulder, watching and quiet and just a little bit wary. It made Chat that much more nervous. Marinette. Marinette from school. Marinette with her video games and baked goods and a sketchbook full of projects. That Marinette. 

“You’re staring. Stop it,” she said. 

“Do you want me to change too? Then at least we’ll be even?” he asked. 



“I don’t know.” 

“We know each other.” 

“I know that.” 

“I mean, we know each other outside the suits. I’ve met your mom and dad,” he said. 

She stared at him with wide eyes. This expression was pure Marinette from school with nothing of Ladybug left in it then she started to calculate. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Her expression didn’t lose that deer in the headlights edge but there was more of Ladybug in it now. 

“Will you guess?” he asked with a laugh. 


She said it in a flat even voice. Then she turned and walked away. He took a few steps after her but she shot him a look over her shoulder that stopped him in his tracks. The expression was chaotic but definitely not good. 

She had figured it out. Thirty seconds and she had figured it out and now she wasn’t just walking away, she was almost running away. She had figured it out and suddenly she was gone. Not just walking away but gone. The girl who trusted him, who he had always thought could maybe love him someday, she knew who he was and it made her turn and run. He sank down to the ground and sat there, looking at the spot where she’d disappeared around the corner and tried to figure out what he’d done wrong. 

itsaconquestofimagination  asked:

Ok but what about reader comforting crime boss Kylo after he comes back from a long job away from home? Readers just happy he's alive and Kylo is beyond grateful he has someone to come home to who knows who he really is but loves him still

the boy loves you so much he just doesn’t know what to do with all his feelings! Seriously! You just being there helps a ton! 
So I’m not sure if this is what you were looking for soo I hope it’s ok! 

His once intimidating frame seems to deflate as it passes through the door. Sinking lower and lower until it looks as if it’ll give way under the weight of the world or rather the spots he’s darkened through poor or selfish decisions. “If I don’t someone else will he” kylo repeated over and over again in his mind; a never failing mantra or an excuse? Even he doesn’t know at this point. It was just better than the places his mind would go when left alone. The rain clung heavily to him, washing away the little speck of blood that made incomprehensible patterns on his long neck. He was surgical in his precision, almost an artist if his knights were asked but, something snapped tonight. Rage boiling over consuming everything in it’s path with a single fowl swoop. His hands were stained not for the first time or the last, not even the typhoon like weather he drove home in could cleanse him of that.

The thoughts kept spinning around in his head; how the night went, what he could of done differently. He could have been better he could always be better; isn’t that what snoke would say? He left him all of this, left him this way. Hands balled and skin taught to the point of whiting around his knuckles. The skin ruined, blossoming a painful red that had stopped bleeding long ago. He’s treat them; interest long gone from his own well being or comfort. He just had to calm down, he made it, he was home. But the cold air of the well lived in kicken did little to deter the dark thoughts that were miles away focused on unseeing eyes and splatters of deep red seeping into the floor like spilled ink.

Kylo doesn’t even bother to shut the door gently as he normally does, though he at least had enough mind to sneak in through the kitchen rather than the squeaking front door. His one track mind is set on easing his body down on the bar stool adjacent to the happy breakfast island. Melting into the worn upholstery of the well loved seat. Sleepy honey colored eyes dance along the papers thrown about, no doubt (y/n)’s doing. A small smile graced his features as he looked at the messy half print, half cursive, scrawl. Transfixed by the small hint that you were in fact real; that he hadn’t made you up during some drunken stupor or adrenaline high.

“Kylo?” The voice was soft, swaddled in a warm sort of tired that could only be associated with just waking up.
“Hey beautiful. Sorry I didn't’ mean to wake you”. He graveled out, swallowing quickly as he shot up, sitting stalk straight. Resembling more of an animal on high alert than a man in his own house. The instinct to pretend and play the ever poised man kicking in. Marble like perfection, cold and purposeful failing to reach his bloodshot eyes, or to even stop the slight tremble of the lower lip he worried between his teeth. Your face softened, outlined by the soft glow of the lamp somewhere off in the hall. Concern flashed across the (e/c) eyes he so loved. Resolve breaking with each gentle sock padded footstep. His body shook as violently as the the storm raging outside.

Mentally taking stock of all you could see your voice broke through the silence giving away your ever present concern.
“You’re all wet! You’ll catch a cold”.
With ease you would your arms around his gargantuan frame pulling him to your smaller one. Yet in this instance he didn’t doubt the strength behind your arms. He pulled you closer placing you and the space between his legs all but, curling around your welcomed warmth. Familiar and safe keeping him together without fear of being cut by the sharp jagged edges of his personality that he prided himself on. All it took was a handful of words and the tears fell openly. A messy head of sticky wet hair connecting with your shoulder wetting the soft material. Clad in one of the sweaters he favored but always found it’s way on your frame. Cold rain water mixing with warm tears as he gently squeezed, breathing in your scent mixed with his own. “I know I just…I” he didn’t know what he wanted to say. That he didn’t think he deserved to be taken care of? That he no longer had the energy to pull himself up? That all it took was one bad day for him to go back to the scared little boy he tried so hard to erase..

“Shh it’s ok. You’re home. Whatever happened, we can talk about it ok. We’ll work it out. We just don’t have to right now”. Small hands carted through his tangled locks finding their way to a strong jawline. With ease you lifted him up to face you. He didn’t protest, languidly moving where you wanted him to. Eye level now that he was sitting. He didn’t think he’d ever want to talk about it, not fully but, he was grateful for the fact that you didn’t force him and that in return for your patience he’d slowly open up his world to you. Though what was out there could not compare to what was here. With you, not in the house the two of you spent grueling august days renovating but, the arms that kept him, the thing everyone feared safe.

Each morning he comes back expecting an empty home smelling faintly of you. The only thing you’d leave behind. Like a dream too far out of reach or water through clenched fingers. You were smart, beautiful and deserved so much better than he could give. He knew this all too well but, you looked at him in a way he didn’t deserve. A way he might never deserve. Much too selfish to let go of his little piece of heaven he clung onto your comfort. Kylo knew that if there was a hell he’d one day end up there and he made peace with that but, until than he’d take every moment he had with you. “Thank you.”


Startled by his voice you perked up, expecting him to shut down until you gently coaxed him out of his shell. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you but, I sure as hell know who I would be. You keep me sane. You know what I am, what i’ve done but here you are. You stayed.” He wet his lips before continuing stumbling through the mix of emotions that had settled in his throat. “You’re my conscious you’re what keeps whatever little good you see in me there. ” His lips captured your own, fingers running along the soft pajama bottoms you wore before settling in the crook of your knee. It was a kiss that was desperate sloppy as he tried to memorize the shape of your lips with his own. One that spoke volumes, splaying his heart open to you and only you to with as you wished.

Behind the two of you morning broke, with it the storm turned from the raging winds that threatened to unearth your home, to a gentle drizzle. Neither cared as they pulled apart and drank each other in. Content in the shared breaths and small space between one another. “Come on let’s go shower you smell like you fell into a bar.” He blinked once, twice, before the laughter rumbled out. Deep and thunderous, going through you in your close proximity. His own storm quieted by the light you shined. “I thought you liked tequila?”.