Words: Ticklish, Burn
Title: Ticklish
Ship: Skye/Carter
Genre: Romance/fluff
Rated: PG-13
Word Count: 637
Summary: He’s the cockiest man, he’s also ticklish.
A/N: Written for Skye/Carter - Ticklish by bellebby for ‘Friday One Word Fic Challenge’ - Week 6
Thanks to crystalkei for beta
… … …
Skye lets out a sigh as she lays on her side next to Carter, her head resting on his shoulder as her hand lays on his chest making random shapes.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters, his voice drowsy with sleep.
“What for?” she asks curiously as she tilts her head up, her lips brushing over his jaw, smiling into the skin as he tightens his arm around her.
“That sigh you just let out,” he answers. Though he sounds half asleep she can still hear the smugness in his voice. “That was a sigh of pure sexual satisfaction, you’re welcome.”
She stares at the side of his face, amazed even now at the sheer arrogance that he displays, with narrowed eyes she watches as a smile spreads over his face, though he doesn’t bother to open his eyes to see her reaction, he knows her well enough to know it’s not good and it amuses him. “Left you so weak you’re speechless huh, Princess?”
“You…”she trails off truly at a loss for words, half amused half exasperated at his cockiness.
“I get it,” he says as he finally opens his eyes to look at her as he turns to his side, his dark eyes shining with teasing. “I wore out those vocal cords as I made you scream over and over again, you shouldn’t speak now.”
Her scoff is met with another grin as he lies back down on his back, she tries to get back to show her displeasure but his arm keeps her close and in the end she really doesn’t want to move, even if she is slightly miffed. Her hand returns to absently run over his chest, pausing over certain scars and tracing over his ribs she lets it slide over his side, her fingertips gliding in the lightest touch.
She stops when she thinks she feels him jump slightly, looking up at him curiously, she doesn’t see anything different in his relaxed expression, eyes still closed but he’s not asleep. Once again she lets her hand roam free, the rest of her body still to pick up on any movement. She trails back up, with the arm that isn’t around her under his head; his armpit is exposed to her wandering. As she gets close, his skin seems to jump under her fingers and he brings his arm down quickly trapping her hand between his side and his arm, his eyes opening wide as they look at her, alarmed.
She stares at him wide-eyed herself, a slow and wide smile spreading over her face as she realizes what she’s just discovered.
“Don’t,” he warns as she starts to shake with silent laughter, he sighs with displeasure, as she doesn’t listen to him.
“Oh, the great Carter,” she starts, the mocking clear. “Sixer, bad-ass field medic and ticklish!”
“Princess,” he growls.
“How have I not known this before?” she continues, unfazed by his tone. “That’s great, perfect, wonderful information to have. Imagine if the unit you work with knew you could be brought down by wagging fingers.”
“Funny,” he grumbles as she shakes with how hard she’s laughing.
“Aww,” she teases this time nicely, pushing him back she climbs over, straddling his hips, she rotates hers, smiling happily as she feels him start to harden underneath her.
“They says ticklish people make the best lovers,” she whispers playfully as she leans down and gives his bottom lip a soft bite before sucking it in between her lips. Taking a hold of him, she brushes against him, running his length over her before she starts to sink down, letting out a small moan as he fills her.
Meeting his eyes, they grin at each other as she starts to ride him, his hands on her hips guiding her movement. “Care to prove that theory right?”
… … …
Title: Burn
Ship: Maddy/Mark
Genre: Romance
Rated: PG
Word Count: 857
Summary: Mark just wants to show her it will be different.
A/N: Written for Maddy/Mark-Burn by mercscilla for ‘Friday One Word Fic Challenge’ - Week 6
… … …
Maddy was good at house work, too good if you asked him. More than once he’d been at the Shannon household and watched as his fiancé cooked, folded clothes, took care of Zoe. He knows she doesn’t mind, doesn’t think anything of it, just sees it as one of the ways she helps her family, it just seemed to him that the rest of the family while undoubtedly loving his sweet girl, sometimes took her and the things she did for them for granted.
She has a job, a demanding one as Dr. Wallace’s assistant, where she’s either helping the older man or working on her own projects and on top of that she does just about everything in her home. Mark knows it shouldn’t bother him, Maddy doesn’t complain or ever think of it as a chore but as their wedding nears and he moves into what would soon be their home, he doesn’t want her to think that he expects more of the same. He wants her to know that when they are married and sharing a life together it will be exactly that, together, equals in everything, including the house work.
With that in mind he set out to make her a meal, amazed that her father hadn’t insisted he chaperone when he had invited her over to dinner. He wanted it to be perfect, a dinner fit for her and all the hard work she does but the one thing he hadn’t counted on or simply seemed to have slipped his mind was that he was a horrible cook. Living in the barracks for so long, he was used to eating his meals in the cafeteria, never having to prepare anything for himself much less others.
It wasn’t going so well.
“Shit,” he hisses, banging a pot as he overcooked the vegetables.
“You sure you don’t need any help?” she questions from the living room for the third time in 20 minutes, as more pots and pans crashed into each other.
“Everything is under control,” he yells back, before turning back to the stove, in a softer voice and to himself he continues. “Everything is a train-wreck.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Maddy comments, amused when he jumps at her voice as she comes into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he exclaims, trying for cheerful as he takes a few steps towards her, trying to guide her back out, not that she budges. “I thought we agreed you’d stay out ‘til I finished.”
“Mark,” she says tenderly a hand cupping his cheek. “I think you need my help.”
“I have everything under control,” he repeats, kissing the inside of her palm.
She gives him a sympathetic look as her gaze moves over his shoulder. “You’re burning.”
“What?”
She points behind him and true enough as he turns he sees that the pot of rice he’d been cooking is collecting smoke.
“Fuck,” he curses as he turns the stove off, lifting the cover of the pot he’s hit in the face with grayish smoke and the smell of burned food. “Damn it.”
He hears her chuckle as she comes up to him, her arms circling his waist, her chin propped on his shoulder. “When we get married I’ll do the cooking.”
“No,” he says frustrated, pulling out of her embrace to turn to her, a look of surprise over her features at his outburst.
Sighing he pulls her close, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “That was the point of this, so you’d know that’s not what I want.”
Maddy gives him a confused look, her brow creased. “I don’t understand.”
He lets out another tired sound and leads her out of the kitchen to the couch in the living room. As they sit down, he pulls her close, trying to figure out a way to bring up what has been bothering him without upsetting her. “You do a lot at your house, for everyone and its great Maddy, but it’s not your job to do so…I just wanted to show you that once we’re married it won’t be like that here, too.”
She stares at him silently for a moment and he holds his breath as he sees her eyes well up, ready to apologize for upsetting her, he’s surprised when she crawls into his lap, her arms around him as she presses her face into his neck. Broken out of his surprise, he turns her hug, his hands running up and down her back.
“Thank you,” she says softly as she pulls back, her face close to his, he can see the tears in her eyes but she’s also smiling so he’s not too worried.
“For what?” he asks breathlessly as he loses himself in her bright brown eyes.
“For getting it,” she answers simply, resting her head on his shoulder as they continue to hold each other. He realizes that what has been bothering him has also bothered her, hating that, he promises himself once more that she’ll never feel taken for granted with him.
“How about I cook and you can fold clothes,” she says after a while, her words teasing. “I don’t want to starve and I’m sick of folding.”
He smiles as he pulls her even closer. “Deal.”