Trick or treat! Jyn/Cassian, “The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade”?

incognitajones:

[this is extremely my bullshit; I suppose I ought to feel ashamed of being so predictable but WHATEVER]

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Afterward, Cassian couldn’t make himself move. He stayed silent in the dark, listening to his own pulse decelerate, feeling Jyn’s breath soft and even against his collarbone. Her arms were firm around him. His mind had gone blank and dazed with contentment… no, that word was for when you were dry and not hungry and no-one was actively trying to kill you. It didn’t capture the breadth of this emotion, that started in the body, yes, but spread out into a golden haze of indefinable warmth and pleasure.

Her fingertips began to skim long, unhurried arcs along the angle of his shoulder. When she found the thin scar just underneath it she traced it once, twice, and he shivered. “Knife?” she asked sleepily, and he nodded into her hair. She kept tracing the rough scored line back and forth, down toward his spine and up to the point of his shoulderblade.

Cassian didn’t remember how he got all of his scars, but he remembered that one: someone had tried to stab him from behind, but luckily they were in a hurry. Instead of punching between his ribs, the point had hit the bone of his shoulder and skidded harmlessly down, tearing a shallow slice. And by the time he was back on base, bacta for the wound would’ve been both unnecessary and pointless, so the scar stayed.

Her lips brushed against the stubble on his throat, hesitant and tender. She didn’t say anything, just kept tracing the scar. Under her fingertips he felt his pulse rush through his still-beating heart, through the dead tissue of the scar, slow and steady and powerfully alive.