but thieves are used to make no sounds and when he wraps his arms around her waist from behind

Best Served Cold

If Obito were even ten seconds slower, he’d have been too late.

It all happens in a blur; the moment he swings himself up onto the edge of the balcony, his eye catches on a slim figure in dark clothes, just approaching the wide glass doors with their covering of steel grills. In the same moment, there’s a spark of red across black cloth, all but invisible in the night. Across the busy street, on one of the top floors of an office building, light dances across cold metal, and Obito doesn’t even try to shout a warning. He hurls himself across the balcony with every ounce of speed he has and tackles the figure just as they reach for the lock.

In the same instant, there’s a muffled pop, and a bullet slams through the thick glass.

“God damn it!” Obito’s captive hisses, but Obito wraps an arm around her waist and leaps for the far edge of the terrace. Another pop, another bullet, and this one is even closer as it slams into stone, showering them with chips of stone. With a snarl of warning, Obito shoves his target around the corner, pushing her down, and whirls to bring his own gun up. There’s no time to aim, no chance to actually hit the bastard when Obito doesn’t have a rifle and scope with him, but he eyeballs it, squeezes the trigger, and dives after the woman as another shot cracks the stone where he’s been standing. At the same moment, glass cracks with a shattering crash across the street, and Obito pushes the target hard, trying to get her moving towards the far side of the building.

“Go!” he urges, and with an irritated huff she scampers along the narrow ledge, grabs a zip line between gloved hands, and vaults over the side of the museum. Obito shoves his gun back into its holster and follows her, landing lightly in the statuary garden behind the building. The woman is nowhere to be seen, but a maintenance gate is standing just a little ajar, and Obito wriggles through the gap, emerging into the lush darkness of the botanical garden that abuts the museum.

“You know,” he says into the darkness, more than a little annoyed, “thank you is generally what people say in this kind of situation.”

“My diamonds,” the woman says instead, a mournful lament, and Obito rolls his eyes as he steps into the small pagoda that overlooks a decorative pond.

Sniper, Rin,” he reminds her, exasperated. “Aiming for your head. Priorities, please.”

Rin drags her ski mask off to pout at him, brushing her bobbed hair out of her face. “Diamonds,” she insists. “Obito, we’ve been casing that building for weeks, and now it’s ruined.”

“But your head isn’t!”

Of course, Rin just waves that off. “Now security’s going to be insane,” she complains, folding her arms over her chest.

Obito is so done with this. “Someone just tried to kill you, and you’re worried about rocks?”

“Pretty rocks. Valuable rocks. Rocks that I spent a very long time planning to steal, Obito,” Rin insists, casting a dark look back at the museum. She heaves a sigh that’s overly thick with regret. “I bet every silent alarm in the place is going off right now.”

“Except the one for a dead would-be intruder,” Obito reminds her, because it can’t be overstated. “If I hadn’t gotten to you in time—”

That at least gets him a laugh, and Rin reaches up to cup his scarred cheek. “Yes, yes, you rode to my rescue like always, dashing hero, et cetera, et cetera. And here I thought you’d heard about our heist and were coming to join us again.”

Obito rolls his eye, though he doesn’t bat her hand away. It’s Rin, after all. “I don’t think assassin falls under the necessary skills to be a white knight, Rin. I’m not a thief anymore. You shouldn’t hold your breath that I will be again.”

Rin rolls her eyes right back, stepping a little away to prop her hands on her hip. “But we were good thieves,” she wheedles, though Obito can see the mischief in her expression. “Remember the casino in Kiri? The bank in Suna? The hotel in Ame?”

Making a face at her, Obito looks away, checking their surrounding so he doesn’t have to face the full force of Rin’s puppy dog eyes. “You know I make as much in one contract as you do in three heists,” he reminds her. “And this is a family business. If you have a problem with me killing people—”

Rin smacks him over the head.

(Obito probably should have seen that coming.)

With a yelp, he leaps back to get out of range, because Rin never stops at just one hit. At the same time, hands close around his elbows from behind, dragging him up against a hard chest, and it’s only a very vivid burst of sense-memory that keeps Obito from flipping the bastard over his shoulder and stabbing him.

“What are we talking about?” Kakashi asks, almost directly against Obito’s skin. It would take a stronger man then Obito not to shiver at the feeling.

“Assassinations,” Rin says cheerfully, stepping forward to tap her fingers against Obito’s chest.

Kakashi hums in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t lift his head. His flyaway hair brushes Obito’s cheek, and Obito can feel the sound more than he hears it. “Is that what that was? Rin, did you get into a death feud with someone and not tell me?

“It was Madara,” Obito says before she can answer. “And—can you let go of me? Hands to yourself, Bakashi!”

Kakashi, of course, does not let go. “Madara?” he asks, and there’s the faintest edge of darkness to his voice. “Your partner Madara?”

Rin is starting to frown as well, and Obito waves his hands as much as he can while still in Kakashi’s grip, trying to get them off this track. “No, no, not like that. He was an asshole so I left to work on my own, and he’s pissy because I’m better than him and he’s only making half as much money now. This was him trying to get revenge against me.”

“By coming after us?” This makes Rin beam. “Obito, you really do care!” she says cheerfully.

“Of course I care,” Obito grouses, huffing and slumping back into Kakashi’s hold. “It’s been the three of us since we were, what, six? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not even by getting married.”

Kakashi chuckles, his fingers tightening just a little. “I would have thought the way we fought over who got you as best man was convincing enough.”

And we offered to let you join in on our wedding night,” Rin points out, her smile far too bright to be saying things like—like that. Obito flushes, on the verge of spluttering, but before he can she adds, “So how many times has Madara tried to kill you since you left?”

Behind him, Kakashi goes stiff, but Obito ignores the overprotective idiot. “Ten times?” he hazards, though he can’t quite remember clearly. “It’s fine, he’s a moron who can’t use a gun. All of his stuff is arranged accidents or poisonings. I’m fine.”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi says mildly. “That sort of looked like a gun to me just now.”

Obito snorts rudely. “Yeah, and no offense to Rin, but if I was behind the trigger she would have been dead six times over before she even got to the balcony. Madara’s an overly dramatic moron.”

“Says the man who cried at our wedding.” But there’s tension easing out of Kakashi’s fingers, and when Obito glances back and up at him, he crinkles his eyes in a smile about his half-mask.

Emotional is not the same as dramatic,” Obito insists hotly. “And would you let me go, please?”

Kakashi hums low in his throat like he’s considering it, gaze slipping away from Obito to land on Rin. He lifts a brow in silent question, and Rin’s grin slides back onto her face, her delight clear. Apparently that’s answer enough, because Kakashi chuckles a little and leans down again, pressing his mouth to the curve of Obito’s neck.

Obito stiffens, jerks, and squawks, “What are you doing, Bakashi!?”

“If you’ve forgotten,” Kakashi says, still perfectly mild, “I think it’s about time we remind you.”

“Like a thank you for saving my life!” Rin agrees cheerfully, trailing her fingers down the center of Obito’s chest. “Think of it as a Hallmark card, but with more orgasms.”

One of the hands holding Obito’s elbow vanishes for a moment, and there’s a rustle of cloth. This time when Kakashi nips at his skin, his mouth is entirely uncovered, and Obito jolts and gasps. “But,” he manages as Rin leans up to kiss him, and for half a minute that’s far more interesting than words. Especially when Kakashi’s hands settle on his hips and drag him back even more firmly. When Rin finally surrenders his mouth, dragging her teeth across his lower lip, he groans and tries desperately, “But—revenge, I have to get revenge on Madara because he’s an asshole—”

Rin pouts at him in the way she knows he’s weak to, the witch. “Really, Obito? You’re thinking about revenge at a time like this? It’s been so long since we were all in bed together. Don’t you want to have some fun?”

“You just want to see Kakashi fuck me again,” Obito accuses, and from behind him Kakashi makes a very interested sound and scrapes his teeth over the spot on Obito’s jaw that always makes him lose control of his knees. Obito sucks in a hard breath, eye closing automatically, and Rin laughs.

“This is true,” she says without an ounce of shame, fingers ghosting over his belt. “Can you blame me? It’s been four years. Besides, I want a piece of you too.”

Her light touch turns into a definite grope, and it takes effort for Obito not to whine through his teeth. “But—plan. I have a plan and I need to go—”

Kakashi makes an intent sound against the curve of his shoulder. “Oh? For your revenge? You’re not just going to shoot him?”

“Mmm.” Obito breaks the kiss that Rin pulls him into, trying to drag his wayward thoughts back under control. They all seem to be taking a nosedive and heading south. “I—yes. Yes, I have the perfect plan. There’s this—this outstanding contract Madara has—oh.”

“Outstanding contract,” Kakashi prompts cheerfully, as if he didn’t just stick his hands up Obito’s shirt.

“On a businessman,” Obito forges on doggedly. “Madara was gleeful for days after he got it, because they have history. So I’m going to get there first.”

“And kill him before Madara can?” Rin asks, though her attention seems to mostly be on Obito’s abs as she follows the path of Kakashi’s fingers.

With an aggravated huff, Obito turns, getting ahold of Kakashi’s turtleneck and pulling him in for a hard kiss that’s full of teeth. “No,” he insists, pulling back. “I’m going to save the bastard and keep him alive no matter what, just to spite Madara.”

Rin laughs, pulling back a little. “That sounds like a good plan,” she agrees, and when Obito makes the mistake of looking at her she makes that one face, halfway between sultry and a pout, that always does terrible things to Obito’s willpower. “But it can wait until tomorrow, can’t it, Obito? Or…maybe the day after?” She traces her fingers down his chest, looking up at him through her lashes, and Kakashi pulls him in even tighter, halfway to a hug but with a very prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Oh god I hate you both,” Obito says, and Rin laughs because she knows that’s his surrender.

“You brought your bike, didn’t you?” she asks coyly. “I’ll take the car back to the hotel. Kakashi, why don’t you make sure he doesn’t change his mind?”

“I can do that,” Kakashi agrees cheerfully, nipping lightly at Obito’s ear. “You can tell me more about your revenge on the way. There’s no way that’s all of it, knowing you.”

“Keep implying that I’m a tricky bastard and I’ll prove you right,” Obito threatens as Rin leans up for another kiss. “I just—ah, Rin, god—I can only stay one night, okay?”

“We’ll revisit the discussion at a later time,” Rin decides, and her bright, sunny smile returns. “After we’ve wrecked you the second time, maybe?”

It’s vaguely sort of possible that Obito whimpers.

Maybe revenge is overrated.

anonymous asked:

Starmora 50 (marriage proposal?) And 100 (wedding day)

Not sure which list this is on, but I’m gonna do it anyway!!!!

“Really, Rocket! Are you serious?“ Peter taps the back of his hand against the earpiece helmet behind his left ear.

“I thought you wanted a distraction!“ Rocket’s voice crackles over the earpiece. The structure they’re on rocks precariously, small stones dropping from the ceiling.

“A distraction, yes! Burying us alive? No!”

“What’s going on?” Gamora asks as she shoulders her way into the small space beside Peter. “Why is the building shaking?”

Peter scowls and throws his hands in the air… as high as he can with the rocks falling onto them. “Rocket decided to blow up the place as a distraction.”

“Why in Nova’s name would he—?” she snarls as the walls press in around them. “What about Groot? Where’s he?” Her eyes are wide and upset as she thinks of the tree-child alone wherever he is.

Peter puts a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. “We’ll get out of this, Gam. He’s with Mantis and Kraglin back on the Milano.” Peter knows, and loves, how maternal Gamora has become without it compromising her warrior/assassin persona.  

She shoots him a glare. “Peter, the whole building is about to collapse.” It’s hard to hear Gamora’s voice crack so he pulls her into his chest. They’ve gotten closer since the shit with Ego went down, but she still stiffens slightly in his hold before relaxing. They’ve even kissed a lot too, but they don’t need words to understand their feelings for each other.

“If we get out of here…” Peter coughs as dust falls with the larger rocks, trapping them and making them press closer to each other. “If we get outta here, we should get married.”

“What?” Gamora pulls as far away from him as she can, still pressing a hand to his chest, over his heart.

“Yeah,” he smiles down at her her, “we should go for it. I love you and, well, I hope you love me. So why not?”

“Because it’s dangerous, Peter. Someone could come after you to harm me and vise versa.”

Peter chuckles and rests his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of leather and rosewater. “Don’t care. You’re the Bonnie to my Clyde.”

“Who?”

“Two famous thieves who fell in love on the open road according to the stories.”

“But we aren’t thieves anymore.” Gamora’s brows furrow in confusion, the silver scars on her forehead, wrinkling slightly.

“Tell that to this baby,” Peter pulls an orb, looking suspiciously like the Infinity Stone Orb out of his knapsack. “It doesn’t have a stone, but it sure is pretty, and valuable if the plaque outside it has anything to say about it.”

“Peter…” Gamora’s lips twist up into an exasperated smile.

“That’s that smile.” He pokes at one small dimple on her cheek, the ones that only appear around him during those secret moments.

She rolls her eyes and presses closer to him as the rocks close in on them. “Fine. If we get out of this, I’ll marry you.”

“Yes!” Peter throws up a fist, only to let out a hiss when it hits the rock above them. “Ow.”

“You’re an idiot.”

—-

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” Rocket says as he sits on Peter’s cabinet. He watches as the Terran runs a hand through his hair and over his unshaven face.

“Is it really such a horrible idea?” Peter asks.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Pete, but don’t you wanna think about this?”

“Peter has found a suitable mate,” Drax booms from behind the two. “Now, I was told to get you or, as Gamora herself said, she will be marrying herself.”

Peter scrambles up and races out the door, still shoving his left arm into his jacket.

——

(Meanwhile)

“Your joy is overwhelming.” Mantis’ voice is soft and bubbling with excitement.

“You do not look hideous,” Nebula says monotonously.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Gamora chuckles as she smooths out the black leather shirt she’s wearing. The one that she was wearing the first time Peter asked her to dance. When he saved her life.

“I am Groot.” The three women look down to see the tree-child holding a large bouquet of flowers. He’d just started growing them a few days ago, just in time. “I am Groot!”

“They’re beautiful, Groot,” Gamora says as she kneels down to take the flowers. “Thank you.”

“It’s time, sister.” Nebula tugs on her sister’s elbow. Groot grabs onto the corner of Mantis’ cloak, wrapping his vines around her hand until he’s perched on her shoulder.

—–

The wedding goes by in a blur. It’s a mixture of what knowledge Peter had of human weddings with slight elements of the little Gamora could remember about her own people’s joining rituals. However, the reception is much better.

“Dance with me?” Peter wraps his arms around Gamora’s waist, nuzzling into her hair.

She doesn’t turn around, but he can see the curve of a smile on her face. “I am a warrior and an assassin. I do not dance.”

“Well, I happen to know that’s not true,” Peter murmurs as he spins her around. She smiles up at him and wraps her arms around his neck. He smiles softly at her. “Drax still thinks you’re not a dancer.”

“Tell him the truth, and I’ll kill you.”

Peter just chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead.

We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder

We belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen under

Whatever we deny or embrace for worse or for better

We belong, we belong, we belong together

So I hope this is okay!

Send me numbers and I’ll write a Starmora oneshot with it!

Send me a phrase and I’ll write a story with it! Please include the phrase with the number so I don’t get them mixed up with the numbers above.

We Were Thieves (New Year's Eve) Draco Malfoy x Reader Imagine

In this imagine, the reader attends the Malfoys’ New Year’s Eve party at Malfoy Manor, a place teeming with golden lights, sweet champagne, and beautiful music. It’s a night of dancing, stolen moments, and suspicious parents leading to confrontation and sleepy confessions. It’s been one trying year for the couple, but with the promise of a fresh start anything is possible.

Y/N - Your name
Y/L/N - Your last name
~~~ - used to indicate the passage of time

Warnings: suggestive content, one mild curse word

Word Count: 2,418

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I look up at the stars, head dizzy from the amount of champagne I’ve consumed tonight. It’s New Years Eve and cool winter breeze ruffles my hair as my hands trace the worn stone of the balcony rail. Behind me a party is in full swing at Malfoy Manor, laughter spills out into the night air and the klink of glasses combines with unknown music to cover the underlying sense of unease. The last year has been crazy, and the next one is uncertain.

“There you are, I was beginning to worry that someone had stolen you away.” Draco’s arm wraps around my waist, his other hand holding a dainty glass of sparkling liquid.

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A Sight to Behold

Request: In My Eyes was so amazing! I cried and I smiled so much my cheeks hurt lol!
Can you do a part two where maybe they’re at a bar and a girl is talk smack to her about her insecurities and that Dean deserved someone better. Dean hears her and tells the bitch off and y/n is biting her lip from crying and a few tears fall from her face.
Dean see her and they leave the bar and fluff! Maybe smut? But like he keeps kissing her and saying he loves her. All this sweet stuff and while he’s giving her kisses she cries and whimpers that she’s not worth it and he keeps saying she is worth everything and that she’s beautiful.


*

See how it began here!

A/N: I’ve decided In The Eyes was set toward the end of season 4, approximately, and this sideshot takes place approximately six months later as the apocalypse is coming into full gear.
For the lovely gleefinn. Sugar, I hope this is everything you wanted.
Rating: NC-17 (As though any of you expected differently.)
Warnings: Bullying. Bitches. Low self-esteem. Smut.
Dean/Reader. Reader POV. Dean POV.

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anonymous asked:

What non-'reverse' fic are you currently working on right now? Any hints you'd like to give us that would leave us chomping at the bit for more?

If Obito were even ten seconds slower, he’d have been too late.

It all happens in a blur; the moment he swings himself up onto the edge of the balcony, his eye catches on a slim figure in dark clothes, just approaching the wide glass doors with their covering of steel grills. In the same moment, there’s a spark of red across black cloth, all but invisible in the night. Across the busy street, on one of the top floors of an office building, light dances across cold metal, and Obito doesn’t even try to shout a warning. He hurls himself across the balcony with every ounce of speed he has and tackles the figure just as they reach for the lock.

In the same instant, there’s a muffled pop, and a bullet slams through the thick glass.

“God damn it!” Obito’s captive hisses, but Obito wraps an arm around her waist and leaps for the far edge of the terrace. Another pop, another bullet, and this one is even closer as it slams into stone, showering them with chips of stone. With a snarl of warning, Obito shoves his target around the corner, pushing her down, and whirls to bring his own gun up. There’s no time to aim, no chance to actually hit the bastard when Obito doesn’t have a rifle and scope with him, but he eyeballs it, squeezes the trigger, and dives after the woman as another shot cracks the stone where he’s been standing. At the same moment, glass cracks with a shattering crash across the street, and Obito pushes the target hard, trying to get her moving towards the far side of the building.

“Go!” he urges, and with an irritated huff she scampers along the narrow ledge, grabs a zip line between gloved hands, and vaults over the side of the museum. Obito shoves his gun back into its holster and follows her, landing lightly in the statuary garden behind the building. The woman is nowhere to be seen, but a maintenance gate is standing just a little ajar, and Obito wriggles through the gap, emerging into the lush darkness of the botanical garden that abuts the museum.

“You know,” he says into the darkness, more than a little annoyed, “thank you is generally what people say in this kind of situation.”

“My diamonds,” the woman says instead, a mournful lament, and Obito rolls his eyes as he steps into the small pagoda that overlooks a decorative pond.

Sniper, Rin,” he reminds her, exasperated. “Aiming for your head. Priorities, please.”

Rin drags her ski mask off to pout at him, brushing her bobbed hair out of her face. “Diamonds,” she insists. “Obito, we’ve been casing that building for weeks, and now it’s ruined.”

“But your head isn’t!”

Of course, Rin just waves that off. “Now security’s going to be insane,” she complains, folding her arms over her chest.

Obito is so done with this. “Someone just tried to kill you, and you’re worried about rocks?”

“Pretty rocks. Valuable rocks. Rocks that I spent a very long time planning to steal, Obito,” Rin insists, casting a dark look back at the museum. She heaves a sigh that’s overly thick with regret. “I bet every silent alarm in the place is going off right now.”

“Except the one for a dead would-be intruder,” Obito reminds her, because it can’t be overstated. “If I hadn’t gotten to you in time—”

That at least gets him a laugh, and Rin reaches up to cup his scarred cheek. “Yes, yes, you rode to my rescue like always, dashing hero, et cetera, et cetera. And here I thought you’d heard about our heist and were coming to join us again.”

Obito rolls his eye, though he doesn’t bat her hand away. It’s Rin, after all. “I don’t think assassin falls under the necessary skills to be a white knight, Rin. I’m not a thief anymore. You shouldn’t hold your breath that I will be again.”

Rin rolls her eyes right back, stepping a little away to prop her hands on her hip. “But we were good thieves,” she wheedles, though Obito can see the mischief in her expression. “Remember the casino in Kiri? The bank in Suna? The hotel in Ame?”

Making a face at her, Obito looks away, checking their surrounding so he doesn’t have to face the full force of Rin’s puppy dog eyes. “You know I make as much in one contract as you do in three heists,” he reminds her. “And this is a family business. If you have a problem with me killing people—”

Rin smacks him over the head.

(Obito probably should have seen that coming.)

With a yelp, he leaps back to get out of range, because Rin never stops at just one hit. At the same time, hands close around his elbows from behind, dragging him up against a hard chest, and it’s only a very vivid burst of sense-memory that keeps Obito from flipping the bastard over his shoulder and stabbing him.

“What are we talking about?” Kakashi asks, almost directly against Obito’s skin. It would take a stronger man then Obito not to shiver at the feeling.

“Assassinations,” Rin says cheerfully, stepping forward to tap her fingers against Obito’s chest.

Kakashi hums in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t lift his head. His flyaway hair brushes Obito’s cheek, and Obito can feel the sound more than he hears it. “Is that what that was? Rin, did you get into a death feud with someone and not tell me?

“It was Madara,” Obito says before she can answer. “And—can you let go of me? Hands to yourself, Bakashi!”

Kakashi, of course, does not let go. “Madara?” he asks, and there’s the faintest edge of darkness to his voice. “Your partner Madara?”

Rin is starting to frown as well, and Obito waves his hands as much as he can while still in Kakashi’s grip, trying to get them off this track. “No, no, not like that. He was an asshole so I left to work on my own, and he’s pissy because I’m better than him and he’s only making half as much money now. This was him trying to get revenge against me.”

“By coming after us?” This makes Rin beam. “Obito, you really do care!” she says cheerfully.

“Of course I care,” Obito grouses, huffing and slumping back into Kakashi’s hold. “It’s been the three of us since we were, what, six? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not even by getting married.”

Kakashi chuckles, his fingers tightening just a little. “I would have thought the way we fought over who got you as best man was convincing enough.”

And we offered to let you join in on our wedding night,” Rin points out, her smile far too bright to be saying things like—like that. Obito flushes, on the verge of spluttering, but before he can she adds, “So how many times has Madara tried to kill you since you left?”

Behind him, Kakashi goes stiff, but Obito ignores the overprotective idiot. “Ten times?” he hazards, though he can’t quite remember clearly. “It’s fine, he’s a moron who can’t use a gun. All of his stuff is arranged accidents or poisonings. I’m fine.”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi says mildly. “That sort of looked like a gun to me just now.”

Obito snorts rudely. “Yeah, and no offense to Rin, but if I was behind the trigger she would have been dead six times over before she even got to the balcony. Madara’s an overly dramatic moron.”

“Says the man who cried at our wedding.” But there’s tension easing out of Kakashi’s fingers, and when Obito glances back and up at him, he crinkles his eyes in a smile about his half-mask.

Emotional is not the same as dramatic,” Obito insists hotly. “And would you let me go, please?”

Kakashi hums low in his throat like he’s considering it, gaze slipping away from Obito to land on Rin. He lifts a brow in silent question, and Rin’s grin slides back onto her face, her delight clear. Apparently that’s answer enough, because Kakashi chuckles a little and leans down again, pressing his mouth to the curve of Obito’s neck.

Obito stiffens, jerks, and squawks, “What are you doing, Bakashi!?”

“If you’ve forgotten,” Kakashi says, still perfectly mild, “I think it’s about time we remind you.”

“Like a thank you for saving my life!” Rin agrees cheerfully, trailing her fingers down the center of Obito’s chest. “Think of it as a Hallmark card, but with more orgasms.”

Strangers 36

Ultimate thank to betas, especially Marsh for listening to my late night/early morning screaming. It can be read from the beginning on FFN here, the current chapter can be read below or here.  


You Take Me By The Hand

September 7th

He has been haunted since the last adventure at the lake. He saw everything. Well, he can’t say he saw everything – but the combination of moonlight and tanlines gives him a pretty good idea of a lot. He knows she has fair skin, delicate skin that he wants to nibble on a little. But unbeknownst to Soul, she had been growing tanner all summer, increment by increment, shade by shade, except a few select locations. There’s a pale triangle, left behind; he wants to pick her up by it, get a really good grip. He could get a better hold of it then he does on himself right now.

He’s losing it.

Her back had been to him when she got out of the water, and her perfect back side. What even is self control? Does he know anymore? At least when they were at the lake he had already been in cold water. The second incident is less kind. Maka is in his shirt, a true fatality.

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