тσ ∂ιє ωσυℓ∂ вє αи αωfυℓℓу вιg α∂νєитυяє (
setlist) wrote in
bakerstreet2016-06-06 01:44 pm
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Redemption Romance
![]() Red's in your ledger or you're making your way towards a crimson page by your very nature. Did you simply do what you had to do in order to survive? No one could understand how you lived. That could be just what you tell yourself, though; really, you might have enjoyed your crimes. You're not proud of some of what you've done, no matter what, and there's a part of you that will probably never heal. If you were someone else looking in, you'd never be able to stand looking at you, much less stomach you. But someone does all of that willingly. They can look past the blood on your hands and the bad decisions weighing on your shoulders. It's you they care about, not your history. Actually, they may even love you, though you can't begin to fathom why.
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[One way or another. Ideally, he'll be able to tell her in person, but there is a part of him that feels it won't be the case. When he and Reyes finally catch up to each other, he'll do whatever it takes to put him down for good, and he expects no less from his old friend. They'll take each other out, just like they did back at HQ, only this time it will be for good, and 76 thinks that's how he'll prefer it. If he sets the record straight on Overwatch, preserves his own memory, and clears the names of everyone else involved, he'll consider it all worth it.
There's a tightness in his chest, however, when he thinks of what and who he'll be leaving behind--this time, for good.
He recognizes he insistence in kissing him to be more distraction than anything--from the current topic of discussion, from his injury, from everything else that weighs on him. Ordinarily, he might call her out on the tactic, but she's done a good enough job tonight that he finds himself wanting it. He'll have to force down the urge to keep voicing his own regrets, but with every gentle touch of her hands and lips to his face, it gets easier.
Okay, he thinks, finally feeling himself relent as he turns to face her more fully and his hand (with her guidance) slides from her waist, around the small of her back and he takes the air out from between them. Okay. All of their problems can wait.]
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It is a very simple tactic after all, and she's glad he doesn't call her on it. She isn't sure what else she'd be able to do— it took everything in her already to get him to stay long enough to recuperate before moving on, much less get him to rest. Asking Jack to relax would be like asking a tree to move to the other side of a mountain. If he wants to voice his regrets, Angela would do her best to set them at ease, but she'd rather he take the time they have and rest up (and preferably eat before he takes off; she'll have to find something for him).
Instead of putting their problems on hold, they can just melt away. Her lips part for him immediately, giving him her air and taking from him, as if they could exist on their own right here with no outside force. In one smooth motion, never letting his lips pull from hers, she sidles right up into his lap and her touch at his neck slips down, massaging his shoulders with practiced hands. She likes being in his arms; there was nowhere safer in the entire world. ]
i have exactly zero good icons for this
Careful.
[It's more a reminder to himself.
76 carries more tension than is probably healthy in his neck and shoulders--Angela will have her work cut out for him as soon as she tries to rub away the knots there, but he appreciates the sentiment. Any sound of pain dissolves into a sort of involuntary grunt as she works her hands over him.
He parts his lips for her, drags hands down the curve of her spine as he pulls her close, deepening the kiss until it's hot and open-mouthed. Maybe they only cross paths every few months if they're lucky, but it's still like they haven't missed a beat.]
SAME THO TBH
Would you like something for the pain?
[ She likely already knows the answer; anything that could incapacitate his senses in any way would be turned down. But perhaps a mild painkiller, for just a few hours... she'll always try.
Likewise, she has no problems tackling tough projects. She'll keep at it as he deepens their kiss into something far more sensual, soft little sounds muffled between them until she's out of breath and filled with the taste of him, back arching up into him until her breasts press against his chest, molding up against him as best she can without aggravating his side. It's been far too cold as of late and he's far too comfortable to nestle against, the time between their visits having lapsed far and further into overdue. In a relationship of distance, she's confident they'd win the gold medal. The doctor needs to start charging him, honestly. Every time he showed up at her door, she was more than willing to welcome him home with her care and kisses and warmth.
Angela takes the moment to catch her breath again, one hand slipping down from his shoulder to stroke over his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. She could hear it better than feel it, beating strong. That is one thing she couldn't dream about, so it's easy to discern reality from the wanderings of her mind. Everything about her touch says "I miss you", over and over, with every pass of her hands on him or brush of her lips. ]
( ooc: HAHA JK I FORGOT I WANTED TO ASK IF YOU'RE ON PLURK I'm loving this too much, I wanna be ur friend..!! I'm at
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Maybe on the way out.
[That's about as much concession as Angela will get. She's correct in her assessment that he doesn't want anything that might cloud him, even if spending some of these four hours taking a goddamn nap sounds like a really great idea. He'll take the pills with him when he goes, if only to make her feel better, and then he'll have them available in the unlikely event he really needs them.
In the meantime, he can get creative and keep himself from putting too much strain on the wound--begrudgingly, he can be careful. He's had worse, and can most certainly weather this, especially if it means being with her.
76 uses their breaking the kiss for painkillers talk to drag his mouth up her neck, paying special attention to a spot right behind her ear. It's a good spot to whisper things while still keeping lips on her.]
How long've you been thinking about this?
[The question is sort of rhetorical, but he thinks he could stand to hear the answer anyway.]
(porqué no los dos)
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Scarred lips trailing up her neck leave her squirming over a broken little moan, knowing all her sweetest spots and nearly digging her nails into his shoulders with how quickly the pleasure washes over her, feeling a needy little throb for more. It's cruel of him to switch that on while knowing he'd be leaving in a few hours. Then his voice is in her ear, more hot air than anything, but it gives her chills all the same, nails scritching at his shoulders before resuming her massage. ]
Since before you'd even left two months ago. Have you even thought about it?
[ Not asked in a hurtful manner, mind you; but she's equally as curious, her voice already breathy, nipples hard where she presses up against him. All it took was one kiss and she was done in. His voice in her ear and she's lost at sea. ]
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She arches against him and it's very difficult not to get handsy, fingers worrying at the hem of her shirt.]
I think about it.
[Obviously he thinks about it, if right now is any indication. He thinks about it more than he'd care to admit. She knows he does. It's unfair for him to do this--get them both worked up and leave--but the whole situation is unfair, and this is a reprieve in its own way.
Still, if it hurts too much, he's not going to press the issue.]
I can stop.
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It hurts, but less so than having to go a few more months before the possibility of seeing him again even crops up. Perhaps it's selfish of her to think this way, but she wants to give him a reason to live. Even if it's just to come back to her. Some people would consider that enough. ]
Don't stop.
[ She'll raise herself up onto her knees to trail soft little kisses up his scar, lips teasing over his eyelashes until she can kiss his forehead and push her fingers into his hair again. Stress is getting to him quicker than age, but she still loves the feel of it in her hands.
On the same hand, though, she doesn't want him to hurt himself. Begrudgingly following: ]
Unless you're hurting.
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[The wound has subsided to a dull throb (unless he moves too quickly or in the wrong way), but he's used to dealing with a certain level of background pain. He'll do his best to disguise any involuntary winces or grunts as something else. It probably won't get past her, but he's going to try.
Besides, there are plenty of things he can do for her where he doesn't have to exert himself.
She works her way upward, tangling fingers in
what's left of oh godhis hair, giving him room to drag his mouth down her throat. His hands slide up and under her shirt in turn, unabashedly exploring.]no subject
Angela is insistent if nothing else. She'd take care of him if he wouldn't do it himself, kneading gently and taking her time, knot by knot. ]
That's a promise then.
[ The only one she'd ask of him. She'll settle her weight back down in his lap as she kisses back down the side of his face, pressed right up against him and full hips shifting over him. ]
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Promise.
[76 is fairly sure he'd tell her whatever she wants to hear, at this point, so he has to be careful not to say something he doesn't mean. It's hard not to just let her work the tension in his neck and shoulders, but she's already spent so much time doing things for him. He growls a little as she hits a particularly stubborn knot, but the noise quickly dissolves into something a little more contented-sounding.
He withdraws his hands for a brief moment as she gets rid of her shirt, but they're back on her in an instant, one tracing the curve of her waist and hips, the other firmly cupping her breast. His mouth finds her collarbone, but she's very insistent when it comes to keeping her lips on his face, even has he bends a little to kiss lower--there's a sound in the back of his throat that might be a laugh.]
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It's a bit difficult to read a growl, but she thinks she may have done some good when it turns into something a little more comfortable. Speaking of comfortable, even without her shirt, he's warm against her, one gloved hand holding her and the other trailing up her body to her chest, pressing into the palm of his hand through her lacy little bra. It's a familiar touch and it hits her how much she's missed it with enough force to hurt, how long it's been since his teeth have scraped along her collarbone, since his lips brushed down her neck.
And he's laughing. Her hands cease her kneading and stroke up the sides of his neck, nails scritching his nape and laughing a bit herself. It's contagious, even if it's vague. ]
What's so funny?
[ She'll take the break to casually grind her hips down into him, pressing into his hands and closer against him, as if it's even possible. ]
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Not that he's complaining, really.]
Don't worry about it.
[It comes out a low rumble. She'll worry about it, especially since he's just said not to worry about it, because that's what she does. 76 will have to make her not want to, which he thinks he's more than capable of. He's also capable of practically scooping her up and shifting their positions (though he does wince a little), so that she's seated on the cot and he's sliding off it, kneeling in front of her. His greater height means that they're still on the same level, and he's quick to silence any objections on her part by crushing his mouth against hers.]
I'll take "where all the other iconable shit at" for 500, alex
Being told not to worry about it does, exactly as he had predicted, leave her worrying about "it". Her mind races through the obvious options— did something fall out of her clothes when she took her shirt off? Has someone stuck something like a bandage on her somewhere and drawn something on it? Is her hair messed up? Did she ruin her makeup kissing him?? Was she tickling him...? There's a long moment where she assesses herself without visibly assessing herself, stilling to study the sensations of her body and eyes darting around their immediate surroundings as subtly as possible. Angela almost opens her mouth to say something in reply— what comes out instead is a surprised little sound as he scoops her up and flips them both, depositing her on the bed in one easy motion and kneeling before her, kissing her fervently.
Well, any concern she may have had flies right out the window with that— certain he's split a lip somewhere with how deeply he kisses her, melting into him with a quiet moan. She hadn't missed that wince but he leaves her no room to scold him, no room to worry about what he'd been chuckling about earlier; it's all teeth and hands and the feel of his scar against her lips and inhaling the taste of him, fingers twisting in his hair where she'd grabbed hold of him.
A small, logical part of her mind is insanely curious as to where he's headed with this; the other 98% of her is lost in him. She'd give him anything to keep him close those few more hours they have left. ]
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So he keeps kissing her, trying to keep her attention elsewhere as his hands fumble with the fastening on her bra. It's all becoming that much more fervent as he seems to realize that he needs this, too. He manages to unhook it, but is content to let gravity do the work as he moves on to the button of her slacks
or, you know, whatever she is wearing today.]Get these off.
[There's a decisive quality to his voice that she might recognize. Maybe he still likes to give orders, in spite of himself. His hands run down the inside of her thighs, pushing them apart, allowing him to settle in between them.]
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When he breaks off and makes a move for her pants, her cheeks and lips are flushed and pupils blown, lashes low as she watches him with renewed intensity. ]
Is that an order?
[ Oh, she recognizes it— it sets her nerves aflutter and instigates a rush of adrenaline, flicking her bra off to the side before she takes her sweet time running her hands down her body, starting at the neck he'd so lovingly kissed his way down, over her clavicle and then cupping her breasts, trying to follow the trail he'd left tingling along her skin. Her thumb pushes the button of her jeans through hole after hole, unfastening all six until the slightest movement leaves the material parting to bare her panties to him.
Rough hands scrape over denim and she'll spread her legs for him with a welcoming ease, hips lifting off the bed once she braces herself on an arm to let him peel her out of her jeans. ]
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[He almost laughs again at how ridiculous it sounds, but she seems to enjoy it, so he does his very best to stay as serious as possible. This is very serious. Extremely serious orders.
76 does sort of wonder why anyone would need so many buttons, and he helps her along but really just gets more in the way than anything else. It's almost agonizing how long he has to stop to slide her jeans off, one foot at a time, and then it seems unfair that she's sitting mostly naked in front of him while all of his clothes are still on, so he tries to pull his shirt off with the arm on his good side. She's definitely going to have to help him with that because this is all of a sudden super awkward.]
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Yes, sir.
[ How long has it been since she's said those words to him? Six years at least— formalities had long since been tossed out between them. Teasing though it may be, it felt good on her lips. Almost as good (and endearing, really; Jack you're way too cute with how earnest you are!!) as he helps her get her pants off, laughing under her breath as their fingers tangle and he tries his damnedest, catching his fingers in hers for a moment just long enough to lean forward and kiss his forehead before getting the last one done. She'll be brushing her legs up his thighs and hips as he works her pants down inch by inch, leg by leg, lashes low as she watches him the entire time with an idle little smile. Her lingerie matches in a pleasing sapphire against pale skin, giving him a chance to admire it while he peels her out of her jeans, straightening her feet once he gets to her ankles for ease of removal.
Once upon a time, this may have been embarrassing, nearly naked in front of a fully-clothed older man. But it's Jack and this is nothing strange these days; the blushing new bride feeling had worn off quickly and she'd had her fair share of intimate encounters. They're growing old together. Perhaps it's why she doesn't stop herself from laughing when he moves to pull off the tight black shirt and ends up getting a little stuck in it as he pulls on his side despite his best efforts. Her hands find his arms and she'll get the hem of his shirt curled in her fingers, kissing his cheek through the material over his face before helping him out of it, easing it off his good arm, over his head, and then guiding it down his left, half-heartedly tossed down to the foot of the cot so she can lay her hands on him, full thighs spreading to accommodate him kneeling before her and fingertips swirling down a strong chest, tracing the edges of his bandages. Even bound up, she can see the shape of his abs beneath the flesh-toned wrap, feel the sturdiness of him beneath her palms, even if his hair's gone white where it'd once been a dashing gold.
The laughter's still in her eyes and playing about the corners of her lips as her nails rake up his arms, settling back on his shoulders. ]
What's the next move, commander?
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Just momentarily, however, because his expression softens when she asks about the next move. He has plenty in mind, of course--you can't have Doctor Angela Ziegler undress herself in front of you and not have things in mind. Sure, he's a literal unwashed hobo with a stab wound and she's somehow managed to wear matching lingerie in a medical tent in the middle of a military detail.
It's so typical. He almost wants to get back at her for it.]
You just sit there and look pretty.
[That's an order, too. He's going to see how much he can get away with before she decides she can't keep her hands and mouth off him, trailing his lips down her stomach as his fingers hook into the sides of her panties.]
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It still works. Her little distractions, egging him into playing along, keeping him going. She receives another "order" and his mouth drags down her skin, retracting her touch to brace both arms behind her and tilt her hips for him so he can tug her panties off side by side. ]
Yes sir.
[ Likewise, she'll see how far he gets before their desires ultimately clash, and one-sided pleasures aren't cutting it any longer. ]
just. terrible icons for this. all around.
His destination, however, is much lower, and he sinks back down onto his knees, hands settling on her hips, pulling her closer. It's a good position for his injury--he doesn't have to reach far or aggravate his side (and the view isn't exactly bad, either). Besides, it's high time he did something for her, for a change.
76 starts slow, kissing up the inside of her thigh, but he doesn't drag it out for very long, as if he knows she's going to stop him and he wants to accomplish what he can. His thumb pulls her panties aside and he ends his trail of kisses right where her legs meet, not tentative at all.]
SAME THO FRIEND.... SAME... I FOUND LIKE TWO
Yes, this is certainly too one-sided for her liking, but it's what he wants for now. She can't even drop her feet to his lap and see how he's faring as his thumb hooks in the lace and his lips brush over her to find her already wet. His kisses hadn't lost their touch with age, and it had been quite some time since his hands were last on her. The slightest dusting of color reaches her cheeks as she looks down through her lashes at him, lips parting with the feel of his mouth pressed against her. ]
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76 doesn't keep her waiting for long, pressing his mouth against her like he would in a slow, deep kiss, dragging his tongue up her opening. He already knows she's wet, and he's not about to waste any more time.
There's a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he puts his shoulders into it and pulls her into him, encouraging.]
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Her nails catch the linen sheets on her cot and fist up the material, one leg resting daintily along his back and the other limp where he holds her hip, taking a moment to really soak into his pampering. Just this once. ]
Jack—
[ Barely a whisper, and more moan than anything. ]
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It doesn't even feel like his anymore, and hearing her say it twists something up inside him that he wasn't sure still existed. She still thinks of him as Jack, after all this time and after everything they've been through. Part of him wants to hear it again. Another part doesn't think he can stomach it.
76 tries to shake it off--there's certainly more than enough to distract him. Now that she's situated herself with a leg hooked over his shoulder, he frees up a hand and it searches for hers.]
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rereading that last tag like "say 'hips' one more time, me, SAY IT"
hips are important
I may have heard a rumor once that they don't lie
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