#this takes place during the honeymoon phase of their bed romping

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

the mania is taking hold on us, sorry

“Okay,” Cody yields, “Kamino isn’t anything like this.”

Obi-Wan’s grin is blooming in the crinkles around his eyes and Cody is led away from the— the obstacle course that calls itself night market, Obi-Wan’s fingers warm where they’re wrapped around Cody’s hand.

Obi-Wan walks backwards, his free hand busy signing while he deftly avoids any of the, Cody guesstimates, trillion people out and about on a busy Coruscant night.

Cody can’t look away.

There are no harsh turns or stops. No almost crashes. It’s almost, almost eerie, that otherworldliness. Obi-Wan is not concerned with looking where he’s going, still backwards. No, he’s seemingly fully occupied with telling Cody about the time he first tried takolumi, a “boldly fascinating dish, culturally significant although they do not particularly care how you eat it as long as you know some form of self-defense”.

He leads them around the masses of people like a walk on the beach and Cody can’t stop looking away.

The takeaway bag is rather hefty at this point and Cody adjusts the paper straps digging into the creases of his fingers. There’s a healthy spot of grease growing dark on the bottom of the bag and yet it doesn’t rip. Somehow no one has yet bumped into him either which would probably rank higher in the miracle list than surviving an encounter with Grievous if Obi-Wan’s hand wouldn’t sprinkle in strange gestures now and then.

To Cody’s embarrassment it took him three flat palms and a sideways motion so seamlessly flowing with Obi-Wan’s silent voice to notice that the people, kids, bags, and carts about to encounter the durasteel wall that is a clone’s body didn’t make impact.

“Too much?”

The question catches him off guard. To Obi-Wan’s credit, he looks more curious than concerned, expecting and trusting Cody to speak up if anything makes him uncomfortable.

He quickly shakes his head. It’s… refreshing, to be honest. The brass and natborn personnel act and rule as if they can’t think for themselves, like they’re on the very base of AI. The public are torn between disdain, fascination, and pity, thinking they know what rights the clones truly deserve in their protests. In the darkest hours after a campaign Cody avoids the holo news like the plague, skin breaking out in hives at the hypocrisy of people wanting to heroically save the clones while wanting to settle them in the furthest, most unwanted parts of the Galaxy.

Cody is aware that their upbringing is anything but traditional, that it’s doused with instilling loyalty to the Republic and, relatedly, to the Jedi as their commanding officers. The real problem took root when they were finally introduced to the Jedi and got treated like people instead of soldiers.

Cody is glad to die for these people when his time comes. And he knows, watching Obi-Wan’s fingers and eyes speak shapes and stories, they do not hesitate to lay down their lives for them either.

He stops. Can’t not stop. Feet frozen to the ground as the realization truly hits its mark in him.

Surrounded by the center of the Galaxy, the mix of every people and culture in one place, the mundane life, shouts and laughter and yelling and music and more laughter, surrounded by Obi-Wan’s warmth, his stories, his… his everything standing for the Jedi…

They would die for each other without hesitation.

“Cody?”

He watches the people around them unconsciously giving them space, walking around them.

“One minute,” he signs back in battle sign, keeps staring at Obi-Wan who switches from growing concern to wide eyes to lowering his gaze sheepish and pleased and blushing.

Cody wants to save him and be saved by him. Wants to end the war just to know they’re both alive for another morning.

He tugs at Obi-Wan’s hand, pulls him closer like he is the one weaving a spell. He reaches up, swipes the hood from Obi-Wan’s head. Feels the soft strands of ginger hair curling around his fingers as he leans up.

Their foreheads gently touch, push together until it’s one warmth shared, one breath shared, and it’s more than the everything Cody hadn’t had known he could dream about before meeting the Jedi.

“I know,” is tapped against his bottom lip and Cody pushes that much closer into Obi-Wan’s space.

Obi-Wan leans back after a too short eternity, meeting Cody’s eyes without flinch or hesitation even if there’s a guardedness in them now he can’t hide fast enough from Cody’s training. “Come on. I want to show you how to best clog your arteries and I know just the place for that.”

“I’m not,” the words trip out of him before Obi-Wan can turn away from him. “I’m,” he doesn’t have the words to explain but he knows, instinctively, if he doesn’t say something now, Obi-Wan will pull away from him. Obi-Wan’s fingers still in Cody’s hand have already started slipping away like water and sand and air.

“Death, yet the Force,” Cody signs hurriedly, hands jerking after the movements he’s seen Obi-Wan do during his meditation.

Obi-Wan stills, expression neutral.

“I honor your Code,” he says. “I honor your voice,” he signs. Watches his own heart pound and Obi-Wan’s shoulders loosen. His hand is solid in Cody’s once more.

“Come on. I want to watch Dex fuss over you.”

[A few months later, a daring plan later with prices too high and yet. Obi-Wan will help Quinlan once he’s back on Coruscant. But for now he’s carried away by a rescue shuttle from an exploding Malvolence to hopefully be fetched out of space soon. Even if a satisfied like loth cat Cody is a sight to behold. All the confidence of a Commander knowing what he’s doing and reaping the victory.]

Cody is warm against his back when the Force cries out, lashes its despair into Obi-Wan’s mind like a whip.

The moment he startles awake from the light doze, Cody’s arms around him tighten into a vice.

“There you are,” Cody says, hisses like a satisfied snake and it’s his voice but not and Obi-Wan is too tired and exhausted after dealing with Grievous and wrapping the Malvolence like a gift for Mace and Cody, Cody, Cody—

“I am arresting you for treason against the Emperor,” Cody continues, empty and hollow now and what the kriffing stars is going on.

“Let go,” he taps against Cody’s thigh and is put on his front for the trouble, arms pulled behind his back roughly.

It clicks with the first handcuff that— Cody

Cody

Cody

Cody has betrayed him.

Before the second click, Obi-Wan bucks up, turns, and he’s got the length of the cuffs around Cody’s neck. Kicks into Cody’s knee and his weight into the make-shift garrote to put him to unconsciousness and buy Obi-Wan crucial time to think.

Mind churning, whirling, puzzling, how could Cody do this, who’s driving him to do this, how could Obi-Wan not see—

Cody falls back into him, grips Obi-Wan’s hand holding one cuff link, grips it hard, and hits against Obi-Wan’s other still cuffed arm.

The cuff’s chain breaks, so does Obi-Wan’s wrist, and playing nice is over.

It’s glimpses that follow, shimmering in the despair of Obi-Wan fighting for his life, for Cody’s life who’s fighting and moves against every self-sustaining instinct, not caring when Obi-Wan pleads with him, barely flinching when Obi-Wan dislocates his knee to get away.

Running up the hull of the rescue ship and he’s snatched out of the air by an arm around his waist, thrown down on his back and the air waves at him on the way out of his lungs.

Cody’s hand on the front of his coat, pulling him up up up and he’s hurled back into the floor with prejudice. Cody wants to exhaust his damaged airways and lungs, maybe break his back while he’s at it, and he’s doing an admittedly incredible job of it.

On the next pull up, Obi-Wan slings his legs around Cody’s arm, heels crossed over his shoulder, and with additional strength provided by the Force he throws Cody over his center point, lets him crash into the floor, hoping to afflict some kind of damage to the damned armor.

The armor.

It’s a beacon flaring in the dark. The realization, the knowledge that is being shoved away by the Darkness even as clarity fights to reunite with him.

The armor. The neural connector.

Where was it. Helmet or backplate? He can’t remember why can’t he remember—

He gets a boot to his shin, a kick to the face as he falls forward and his priorities realign.

He needs to immobilize Cody or at the very least bring them both to the same disadvantage so he can think in the Darkness launching itself at him from all sides.

[darlingpetao3]

Primrose Path (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 10)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When you, a lovely florist, move to Central City to open your flower shop, you had no idea you’d fall for such a complicated and dangerous man who deals in a less-than-legal business. Harrison Wells - a major player and powerhouse within the underground mafia world of the region - sweeps you off your feet as you quickly become his greatest weakness.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of War, Coarse Language, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Deaths

Tag List: @aryaarathornson @cursedfaechild @jadedragon1903 @disneyoncerlover815 @child-of-winter-1215 @thecaptainsgingersnap @miss--mercy @fireboltrose7559 @xccentriktigress @12monkees  (please check to see if your Tumblr settings are set to receive mentions from us for future tag related purposes!)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9)

It doesn’t even feel like you and Harry have been together for five months. Instead, it feels both like it was just yesterday you met and as if you’ve known him your entire life.

Over the next few weeks, you start moving your things into Harry’s house, getting comfortable in this new arrangement. This is by far the most serious relationship you’ve ever had and moving in with Harry was a big step, but one that you were incredibly willing to make.

The day after he’d asked you, Harry cleared half of his suit-filled walk-in closet for you to use so that his tailored jackets and silk shirts now hung opposite your clothes that you’d brought over, and some that Harry had bought for you as a ‘moving in gift’. Even this relatively small gesture made your heart soar and you ended up giving Harry a huge bear hug to show your appreciation which made Harry smile broadly too.

To say you two were in the honeymoon phase of your relationship was an understatement. Everything between you was effortless, and you feel high on love. His love. And Harry has so much to give.

In fact, your relationship had progressed even further - around the same time as your moving in. When Harry first brought up the idea about ditching the condoms during sex, you couldn’t deny you were a little startled and embarrassed at the thought. You had supposed it made sense, though. You were in a committed relationship, and with the added gift of heightened pleasure of skin on skin for you both, it was definitely up for discussion. Harry grinned like a madman when you reminded him that you hadn’t been sexually active with another man before him, evidently relishing in that fact. But his good mood hadn’t stopped you from fidgeting when you confessed that you would like a test to determine that you were both healthy. You knew he hadn’t been in a relationship for a while, but you didn’t know if he’d taken any lovers before you, but he agreed eagerly, putting your peace of mind to the top of his priorities, and the day after your awkward but informative talk about protection, you both went to get tested.

You had already started taking birth control pills since before Harry had first told you he loved you when the pair of you were becoming serious. You wanted to be prepared just in case. And when your tests came back issuing both clean bills of health, it was mutually decided the latex protection would no longer be needed in the bedroom.

Or literally anywhere else, for that matter.

And oh Lord, were you glad you both decided to do this because after testing out the new sensation of Harry’s hard, bare cock sliding into you, you finally knew now the meaning of ecstasy. You and Harry were sure to repeatedly test this revelation over the course of the weeks of moving you into his place in a steamy, intense love romp.

At present, Harry is having a post-sex shower as you browse your enormous walk-in closet of its seemingly endless articles of clothing gifted to you by him. They range from sweet and demure to dangerously sexy and scant. You still haven’t tried on the latter pieces yet. Those ones still make your heart race

About to emerge from the grandiose walk-in closet in a more modest-looking black nightgown, you stop short at something catching your eye. You notice a small picture frame peeking out from one of Harry’s drawers that isn’t fully closed. Your hands move of their own accord and reach for the frame to help you get a better look at the person in the photo. It’s a young girl. She looks to be around twelve years old at the most. Her hair is a dark curly brown, wild and in her face as if she’d been running. Rosy cheeks, a little button nose, and beautiful green eyes.

“Um, Harry?” you call towards to the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He walks out of the ensuite while towelling his wet locks. You turn the photo to face him.

“Who is this?”

“Oh…” Harry says awkwardly while scratching his head.

“Oh? I find a picture of a little girl you’ve never mentioned before in your drawer and all you have to say is ‘oh’? Harrison, I thought we promised each other no more secrets between us…?” He stands there a moment longer as if thinking of what to say next.

“(Y/N), why don’t you sit down?” You frown and press your lips together, but take his suggestion and sit on the bed. Harry does the same, taking the frame from you and not taking his eyes off the photograph.

“This is my daughter,” he says, now handing it back over to you. “Her name is Jesse. She’s the brightest person I’ve ever known and I’m nothing but proud.”

“How old is she?” you ask quietly.

“Jesse’s eighteen now and she can be a bit headstrong and stubborn, but she undoubtedly got that from me.” Harry blows air out through his nose in a small laugh. The way he looks when he talks about her… You wonder why he never has.

“Why was this hiding in your drawer?” you ask.

“I wasn’t hiding her from you if that’s what you’re thinking.” Remaining silent, you let him continue, “We had an argument a long time ago. Well, arguments plural. Jesse planned to go off with West’s boy. To travel or something of the sort. She got the wandering from her mother… my late-wife.”

“Harry, I’m-”

He waves you off. “Cancer. Jesse was six. It was a rough time. I was fighting in South America when she passed and Detective West took Jesse in while I was away. It wasn’t much longer after that I returned home. But, I digress. I wasn’t having my daughter run off to God knows where with the West boy, so I told her she couldn’t. That it wasn’t safe for her to leave. But did she listen?”

“No?”

“No. That’s exactly right. After that, I couldn’t bear to stare at the picture of my little girl anymore without feeling too much. I didn’t want to think about what I’d lost to the unknown, so I hid it away.”

“But she’s fine, right? There’s nothing to worry about? She’s a Wells after all.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard from her since that day. Over a year ago.”

He hasn’t seen his own daughter in over a year?

You remain quiet and look down at your twiddling thumbs.

“My... my late-wife had to convince me to have a child, you know?” Harry continues to confess. “I was too preoccupied at the time to even consider it, bettering myself in the field of scientific advancements. But she had her ways of convincing me. And when it happened, when Jesse was finally born, she was my life. She was so tiny and had these enormous eyes. Quick learner, too. I couldn’t wait until she was old enough to teach her everything I knew. To bounce these theories I always have off of her. Maybe even to work alongside her one day. But that was the thing... she did get old enough. She did grow older, and soon, I didn’t want her to anymore. Things were so much easier when she was small and wide-eyed and didn’t have this insatiable need to gallivant across North America with some boy without bothering to call me back-”

You put a hand on his arm.

“-Harry.”

“Sorry. But God, what I wouldn’t give to savour the time I had with her when she was younger instead of...”

“Wishing for her to grow up?” Harry nods. This obviously isn’t easy to talk about for him. As he said, Jesse is his life. She’s all he had left after his wife passed. It’s understandable that he would cling to her like his life depended on it.

“I just wish you had told me about her,” you say, leaning into him to snuggle. “Anyone that’s important to you is important to me.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I’m sorry. And maybe subconsciously I didn’t want to scare you away with the fact that I had a daughter.”

“You think that would have scared me? Oh, Harry… Never. After all I’ve learned about you? I’m. Still. Here.”

“You are.” Harry holds you close. “You are still here and most of the time I still can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Mister. And I am not going anywhere.”