writer’s month prompt: day 5 | heart (Rogue/Gambit)
Anna laid her ear against Remy’s chest and listened to the steady thawump-thawump of his heart. Her fingers traced nonsense patterns over his muscles while she marveled at the feel of the hair on his chest and the warmth of his skin. How precious this moment is, she thought as she pressed her body further against his side, soft curves against hard planes, their skin sticky with sweat.
Would she ever stop being amazed at this? Touching Remy. Kissing him. Existing in each other’s space without a bit of clothing or cloth or even fear between them. Anna doubted it. After so many years of being unable to touch, every brush of uncovered skin felt like a miracle. How many nights had she fantasized this, only to cry herself to sleep because she feared those dreams might never come true? She sometimes pinched herself, too afraid that she was living out some elaborate fantasy – but no, this was real. Anna smiled against Remy’s chest.
“Somethin’ on your mind, chere ?” Pressed against him as she was, Anna could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke. He reached to take the hand drawing nonsense on his skin, pulling it upwards so he could place a kiss to her fingertips.
“Just thinkin’ some thoughts, that’s all.”
She could have clarified the sort thoughts that were running across her mind, but she liked to tease him. Her grin widened at the half-worry in his voice. “Hopefully happy thoughts. I’d hate to think Gambit didn’t do his job just now.”
She turned against him to rest her chin against his chest and to better see his expression. The expression gazing back at her was teasing. “And what job is that, Swamp Rat?”
“Why, Anna Marie, it’s makin’ you happy, of course,” he responded. Then, with his brows dancing, “Now, ideally, doin’ what we just did, I don’t want you thinkin’ any thoughts at all.”
“No thoughts at all?” she asked with a laugh.
“Nah, the goal is to make you too blissed out to have any sort of thought runnin’ through that mind of yours.” Remy’s hand moved to card through her hair and cradle her head. His words might have been mirthful, but his eyes were full of affection. Surely he felt the same overwhelming sense of joy to be holding her this way.
“How unfortunate for you, because I’m thinking all kinds of things.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmhmmm.” Then, to show just exactly what she was beginning to think, she surged forward to kiss him. No one said they had to stop touching anytime soon, and there existed so many ways to have skin-on-skin, or mouth-on-skin, or…just any type of contact at all that wasn’t just cuddling in bed. After all, she could touch Remy now and she was going to make the most of it every chance she could and in every way that was possible.
written for: @writersmonth & @distant-rose
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I’m at an 8am four hour seminar on tax law on a Saturday ABA conference...I’m five seconds from murder.
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we’re drinking tonight lads
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In the wake of all the MCU bullshit and petty ass writing of Sharon Carter, I feel vindicated on my decision to not give the MCU the time of day again.
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I know I’m more of a comics blog, but I need someone to talk with me about how fucking thicc Giancarlo Stanton’s ass is.
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Watching Ted Lasso take over my dash without me following anyone new or deleting anyone from old fandom has been absolute joy.
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I'd be very interested in reading your essay on Arrow's choices in narrative and in ships.
It's tempting. I love making long essays, but I fear I would have subject myself to rewatch of that show in order to properly argue my points and ensure argument integrity...and I'm not sure I subject myself to that. I don't hate myself that much.
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