#he would be the sort to show up with a bouquet of flowers; but its all just like. dandelions he picked on the way there

[fanfic-scribbles]

Flowers For

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You give Bucky flowers, because friends can give each other gifts and it doesn’t have to mean anything. This time, though, it ends up meaning everything.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff!, background Steve/Sam/Natasha, everybody’s a little shit

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS (though while I do make allusions to the MCU “Civil War” we’re familiar with…it didn’t happen like that. I mostly just wanted Ned and MJ and Peter around for a cute mention.)

Words: 2787

A/N: I badly needed fluff and this just sort of happened. Enjoy <3

~

Bucky seems…sad, lately.

You don’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t look any different than he normally does. He doesn’t speak any different than he normally does. But there is an air around him that feels almost melancholic, and though most of your other friends treat him the same as always, you do catch Sam and Steve looking at him a few more times than normal, which confirms your suspicions. You just don’t know what to do about it. Sam and Steve are both closer to him than you are. Surely they can fix whatever is wrong, and you should just butt out. …Right?

The first flower is a fluke.

You find it by the curb of the sidewalk. Dropped in a rush, a few of the rose’s petals have been pulled off by whatever event cast it aside in the first place, but it is still overall lush and gorgeous. You pick it up– carefully, because curiously there are a couple of thorns– and dust it off. You carry on to the park where you’re going to meet up with Bucky.

And there he is, looking almost lost as he casts his gaze out to some unknown point. It’s pointless to follow– you get the feeling that, whatever he’s looking for, isn’t even here. And to further cement your worry, he doesn’t even notice you until you’re almost within arm’s reach. He leans back to cover the small flinch, and he smiles at you, in a way that if you were only able to see his eyes you wouldn’t even be able to tell. “You made it,” he says gently.

His focus moves down to your hand and his expression takes on a tinge of curious wonder. It’s not out of place or character– Bucky has a lot of little plants he tends to. Some herbs, a little vegetable seed he’s experimenting with, some–…flowers…

“Whatcha got there?” he asks and tilts his head to one side.

If it didn’t have the thorns, you’d be tempted to put it behind his ear. It would look beautiful– more beautiful. Because it’s him, and he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever known, inside and out. But you can’t say that. You can’t risk not having him around.

You lift the flower towards him and say, “It’s for you.”

His eyes light up, but he looks between you and the flower a few times. “How come?”

“Just because,” you say firmly, and hold it higher. It feels right, and it feels even more right when he takes it and his face relaxes, showing some of the tired lines of the age that doesn’t yet show, but there’s a small genuine smile that bends the edges of his eyes, and makes your heart bloom into a flower all its own.

~

The next time you meet up, you’re more prepared. Buying a whole bouquet seemed…silly? Too much? But you got what you could find and so most of the flowers are stashed at your apartment, looking pretty in a cup, and you have a select few in hand, tied with a little ribbon you had lying around. The price tag hurt so bad it almost feels insulting these flowers don’t actually have any thorns, but, stupid expensive idea or not, you want to see how this goes.

Bucky is sitting on a ledge outside the museum, shaking his leg absently, but when he senses you nearby, he stops, sits taller, and turns. His eyes go immediately to the flowers and he smiles, but quashes it down almost immediately again.

“Seriously,” he says as you approach and hand them over. His eyes squint at you with some suspicion. “What’s the occasion?”

“Flowers are pretty,” you say without thinking. “And soft. And nice.”

“So why give them to me?” he huffs, derision shading his words as he casts his gaze down again.

You put the flowers in front of him, insistent enough that he finally takes them. “Because they’re pretty, and soft, and nice, and you like them,” you say. And I like you, you think but do not say. And when he lifts them to his face, getting lost in a thought, the soft petals graze his skin, and briefly touch the corner of his lips, and it’s so beautiful you think this is all very, very worth whatever price tag comes with it.

~

But you do find a florist that sells flowers by the stem. You actually find more than one, because, after a few times of coming in, the comments they made were…not mean, no, certainly not, but pointed. And you just can’t deal with that right now. Because Bucky is such a good friend, and he has enough to deal with without also worrying how you’d take his rejection– or, worse, that you’re just another person to want something from him. He’s had so much stress, and pain, and it just doesn’t do to imagine you contributing to more of that. Besides– flowers are, in fact, nice, and pretty, and soft, and fully capable of being utterly platonic.

Even if the way Bucky smiles every time he receives one (or two, or five,) makes your stomach do a flip.

“You know, bringing a fella flowers when you’re out to dinner with him is gonna give people some ideas,” he says, a smirk playing at his mouth as he flips the menu over.

“Not when they see the person giving you the flowers,” you say, trying to match his teasing tone. But as you go for your menu, he catches your hand. You stop and look at him. He stares at you for a few moments that almost make you squirm, but then he lets go, his hand sliding slowly, (so wonderfully slowly), away from yours.

“Then they’re idiots,” he says decisively, as if daring anyone to actually say that to his face. He even scowls a bit and looks around. Before you can apologize for your bad joke, he adds, “No one talks to my bestie like that,” and goes back to his menu.

It surprises a laugh out of you, and he’s smiling again. “We might need to cut down on your hangout time with Peter,” you say, and pick up your menu for real this time. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on yours, and you savor the memory of it. He doesn’t…touch, like that. It was nice.

“MJ,” Bucky says. He glances at you a few times and pulls some of his hair behind his ear. “She helped me cut my hair.”

“She did a great job,” you say earnestly. It’s not super short, still falling down enough he could ostensibly put it in a tiny ponytail, but it had been getting quite long, before. While it had looked nice, supplying one with many fantasies of running fingers through the full length, or braiding, or– …well, ultimately, you know the maintenance of it had annoyed him, and that’s what really matters.

“I want it shorter, but this was as much as I could manage,” he admits. He brightens. “Those are good kids.”

He tells you about his day, and how the three-man “Spidey-crew” somehow made an absolute wreck of one of Tony’s training rooms despite only one of them actually being enhanced, and as much as you’re riveted by the story, you can’t help but notice how Bucky’s right hand keeps drifting over to pet the flower petals throughout the night.

~

“Hey.”

You look up– and squint at Steve. You don’t know exactly what that look on his face is, but you know trouble when you see it. Not bad trouble, like someone’s dying, but that Captain “The Biggest Little Shit In The World” America is going to make trouble. “Hey,” you say cautiously. You look around. You’re supposed to be meeting someone else today. “Is Bucky okay?”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says, and there it is– that grin that means you are going to regret whatever comes out of his mouth next– about zero point three seconds before he adds, “He seems to be collecting enough flowers to be able to open his own shop though. Don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“Mm, no,” you say, because Steve Rogers is not the only little shit in the area. God, at this point Bucky practically collects them.

“Interesting,” Steve says, with a little too much…well, interest.

You bristle. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, feigning innocence. “I just said it’s interesting.”

“And what would your boyfriend think about that?” you ask. You then try not to actually think about what Sam would have to say about it.

Of course, you don’t get away that easy. “He’s also wondering when you’re going to make an honest man out of Bucky,” Steve says, dropping the pretense.

You scowl. “He already is an honest man.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Steve says, gently, but…it’s true. He’s the one who took on the world for him. And won. “Hey,” he says and sits next to you. “It’s fine, just…you know Buck’s going to wonder about all this.”

You swallow. “He won’t bring it up,” you say. You hope. “Even if he kn–… He wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.” He’s so good. He’s too good.

“He might also not bring it up because he’s as afraid of rejection as you are.” Steve squeezes your shoulder, then stands. “But from here on, it’s not up to me– it’s up to the two of you.” You don’t even get a chance to fully absorb all that before he adds, “That said, you should be more concerned about what my girlfriend thinks about all this.”

You immediately feel your blood go cold.

~

The knife of Natasha hangs silently over your head. Silently, because she made sure to stop by just to stare at you a little too intensely and a little too long. At this point, you’re not sure who’s actually more protective of Bucky– Steve or Natasha. You’re pretty sure the latter is the scarier of the two, though. Only pretty sure though, because Steve probably only backed off because he knew she was going to step in.

You sigh, and watch the rain fall outside your window. Maybe you never should have– but, no, you can’t bring yourself to regret it. It made Bucky happy. It makes Bucky happy. Overprotective friends or not, it’s worth it.

…And if you do get dead and buried, you’ve probably bought enough flowers for Bucky that he won’t even have to buy any arrangements.

There’s a knock at your door and you scramble up, but at the quiet, familiar, “It’s me,” you relax again. And then you scramble to go hit the light. Bucky can’t see you yet so he doesn’t know you’ve been brooding in the dark, but it suddenly feels a lot sillier, all told. Then you answer the door, and he’s smiling, and oh boy, you really are in trouble, aren’t you.

“I got something for you,” he says, and unzips his jacket, bringing out…

…A small bundle of flowers.

You freeze. You should have expected this– Bucky is the kind of guy to get and then give in equal (or more) measure, but there’s something about Bucky, with his nice new haircut, showing up at your door, giving you flowers, that makes your heart ache. But the longer you stand there, the more his smile starts to wilt, until he finally says your name in such an uncertain tone that you snap out of it.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” you say, and take them to go get a tall cup or something to put them in.

He breathes a sigh of relief and starts pulling off his jacket and shoes. “Thank God; I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you like, but I put those together and they just felt right, you know?”

You nod agreeably, even though you think if Bucky showed up with them half-rotted and smushed with most of their petals gone, you’d still have been equally choked up. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say gently and turn to face him, and oh, he is suddenly very, very close.

“I wanted to,” he says, and doesn’t back down. His eyes flick from place to place, though, and he swallows. “Just…because. That’s good enough, right?”

“It is,” you agree, because it is, and you stand by that. But the way Bucky is looking at you is searching, and you feel your chest clench. What is he looking for. Did Steve snitch. Natasha wouldn’t (she loves leverage a little too much for anyone’s full good) but if you have to kill Captain America for being a bitch you will–

“What if it wasn’t just because,” he blurts out. And there’s no other way to describe it; the words fall right out of his mouth like they didn’t even mean to. But you both freeze, and Bucky stands tall, and he doesn’t take them back. He looks right at you and says, “What if…what if they meant something?”

It’s so quiet. Rain pats against glass in waves, but even it is softer now, and you swallow. “What would…they mean?”

And, because there is no hiding the hope in your voice, Bucky relaxes, and once again becomes the kind of person who would look at an angry chihuahua of a man and think befriending him was a good idea. “Well,” he drawls, leaning into you more, but your lower back is against the counter and he rests his hands on it, on either side of you. “It’s not your birthday…it’s not a holiday…”

“And what kind of holiday would you get me flowers for?” you ask, deadpan, because he– he wouldn’t actually make fun of you for this. He’s not that cruel. So this has to be going one place, and you think you know what it is.

Right?

“Valentine’s Day?” he suggests. But his eyes are intense, and for a few moments neither of you say anything, but his mouth is right there, and yours opens just a bit in a Pavlovian response you absolutely should not have but that you desperately want a reason to develop.

“Seems like that might be kind of a statement,” you say softly. You swallow again. “If you. Did that.”

“Yeah?” he asks and leans in, somehow, impossibly closer.  “Maybe I just wanted you to have something nice. And soft.”

His lips are almost touching yours, so close, so close. “Maybe I’d like something else,” you say, more breath than words, and then there he is, there he is closing the distance at last and his lips are on yours and your lips are on his and his chest presses hard against yours and the counter is digging into your back. But his arms wrap around you, and no flower petal can hold a candle to his lips, you think deliriously, wrapping your arms so tight around him that if you had enhanced strength, you think you’d crush him. His lips are mostly soft, but you can feel the little ridges, a hint of a split that must have happened in training this morning, and his tongue and yours. When you finally separate, it’s slow, and while you both take a moment to breathe, you try to wrap your head around…all of this.

“Man,” you murmur. “If I knew all it would take is some flowers…”

Bucky lets out a hoarse laugh, and passes the tips of his fingers gently across your cheek. “What can I say?” He smiles, and it makes his eyes crinkle. “I’m a cheap date.”

You smile too, and say, “We’ll see about that.”

~

When you go to meet with Bucky for your first official date, you bring flowers– and so does he. He hands you your little bindle, but you go about sticking your selection right in his coat breast pocket– and find something familiar about the new broach he has. It’s a little pin containing three rolled dried rose petals in resin, it looks like.

“Is that…” you ask, and he nods.

“I wanted to keep it,” he says, and adjusts the fresh flowers in his pocket. You didn’t plan it like this, but they look so perfectly at home, and when he smiles at you it nearly makes your knees weak. “You look amazing,” he says, gently, and holds out his hand. “Shall we?”

In one hand you hold firm stems and soft petals. Your other hand, you slide into his– against skin calloused and creased and warm and, despite all of its supposed imperfections, better than any flower could ever hope to be. You grip tight, and say, “We shall.”

~

[theorphicangel]

sukuna who swears he would never get married, making this statement even when he was a little kid to his dad and wanting to stay far far away from girls because they were 'gross'

growing into his teens he viewed anything romantic with disgust and couldn't sit through a film, sitcom or advert which displayed any type of romance.

attending college he had his hook ups here and there and it was more than obvious that sukuna ryomen didn't do relationships whatsoever, it was strictly sex and he kept it as that, distancing himself away from anyone who began to show even the littlest emotions towards him

any time people talked about their future around him such as what cars they wanted, what type of house they would like, how many kids and when they would get married, sukuna would always remain quiet never being able to picture that sort of life of him.

being domestic? creating a safe and loving home?

don't make him laugh.

the word husband and marriage barely appealed to him and he would have to try his hardest to even imagine himself making that type of commitment.

at least he used to imagine it until his world was changed upside down and it suddenly became real.

in almost a blink of an eye sukuna found himself in a relationship. long term and serious. suddenly all his thoughts and actions were occupied with nothing but you.

yes, it was scary at first and his coping mechanism was to push you away. but fortunately you know sukuna like the back of your hand and unlike everything else in his life, you stayed.

you stayed to the point where he enjoys coming home early to see you.

you stayed to the point where he likes to sleep in on the weekends, the warm sun rising to greet your bodies wrapped up in the sheets.

you stayed to the point where he tries his hardest to provide for you, making dinner, buying flowers just because or getting that necklace you were searching up in secret online.

you stayed to the point where he introduced you to his family and found out that you fit in perfectly, both his brother and his nephew warming up to you almost immediately.

you stayed to the point where he went out and bought an expensive ass ring, rare in its kind and hid it in the bottom storage cabinet, waiting for the right moment to pop the question.

would you stay with him for the rest of your life?

now he stands in the mirror, all dressed up in a suit. a flower poking out of his chest pocket - this is the smartest he has ever looked in his life. he's already dealt with torment from his father about the gel in his hair and keeping his shirt tucked in.

sukuna would never have anticipated that he would make it to his own wedding day.

he's nervous for some reason, mentally running over his own vows, the palms of his hands sweaty as he practices putting the ring on your finger.

'I'll be right there with you.' you promised a week ago after your rehearsal. you knew how much he hates the public eye on him much less when he's confessing his love out loud to you.

sukuna takes an inhale and judges his own appearance for the nth time, he's scrutinising himself, deep in his thoughts about whether he should have gone for a grey suit instead.

it's only when he feels a tap on his shoulder that he's stirred out of his thoughts.

'hey handsome.'

sukuna turns to find you behind him, dressed in your own wedding attire with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand.

'isn't it bad luck for a groom to see his bride?' he frowns.

you almost let out a snort, 'is this the sukuna ryomen believing in superstitions.'

'whatever brat.' he mumbles before his tone turns serious, meeting your eyes. 'you look...beautiful.'

'thank you future husband.'

sukuna's lips twitch into a grin at the name.

husband.

he guesses it has a nice ring to it.

a reminder that you chose to stay with him, wanting nothing more to spend the rest of your life with him.

yeah, maybe he was cut out for this married life after all.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊WILL YOU MARRY ME? ..FOR THE FOOD OF COURSE

SUMMARY: a friend on the inside told you that this restaurant gives out free food to guests who propose.. well what better way to get free food than to get your crush in on this?

CHARACTERS: all (+RSA and ROLLO)

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: ignore the fact it’s a ton of highschool students getting proposed to

reader gender is not mentioned, reader could be yuu

THINKS ITS STUPID ; YOU PROPOSE

so let him get this straight. you want to fake a marriage proposal with him just to get a free dinner at a fancy restaurant? are you joking? why would you want to go through the hassle? he could literally cook or get someone to cook you a meal twice as good! also for free! you’re so lucky he likes you too. i mean what. anyways, reluctantly, he agreed to the plan.

as you got on one knee, he couldn’t help his heart from pounding. it’s fake, the boy reminded himself, trying to suppress his painfully obvious heartbeat. you slide the ring on his finger, the applause around him being the only to pull him out of lala land. at first he thought it was dumb, but next time, he wouldn’t mind doing this again so long as you don’t go back on your word.

he forgot about the food and barely ate.

ace, riddle, leona, azul, jamil, idia, sebek, rollo

HESITANT, BUT AGREES ; HE PROPOSES

proposal? like, marriage proposal? oh. oh seven. SERIOUSLY— wait, no, a staged one. whoops. haha, you got him. gosh darn it.. you want to do this with him though? you could’ve asked anyone else! what an honor it is to pretend to marry you.. it’s like a dream come true! sort of. hold on, what if he gets carried away? jeez, it makes him nervous just thinking about it.. can he do this? is this morally correct? well you asked him first.. okay, he’ll do it!

the ring box rests in his pocket, waiting for your signal before he can ask for your hand. as he got on his knee, he could feel his hands tremble, begging not to screw up or accidentally drop the ring. his eyes meet yours, as did the audiences. the heat in his cheeks rose immensely as he uttered the four magic words, your acceptance gaining cheers from the crowd. that.. that felt good. he’ll definitely propose to you again! but the next time he does, it won’t be for show.

he was sad when he remembered this was fake. the food didn’t taste good anymore.

deuce, cater, trey, jack, ruggie, epel, malleus, silver

HE GETS REALLY INTO IT ; HE PROPOSES

there was no convincing involved at all. the moment you said “let’s fake a proposal” he already agreed. and please let me tell you how into it he got. he went through rehearsals, wrote down heartfelt poems, and even got all dolled up just for the occasion. he showed up to your door with a bouquet of flowers, lifting your hand to brush against his lips, escorting you by the arm to his transportation, just the whole thing. like damn you’re not even in public yet. relax.

at the restaurant, he grabbed your hands suddenly, turning you to face him. he began to go on about how much he loved you, and how much your moments together meant to him. he lowered himself onto one knee, pulling the velvet box out of his pockets. you are presented with a REAL ring (not the fake one you offered, nono), with a glittering stone on top. this was an act, yet even you believed it was real for a moment. you accept his proposal before he suddenly pulled you in with his lips nearly against yours.

he pulls back, the sounds of tears from the waiter and compliments from other customers being the only sounds made in the moment. he plays it off like it was nothing, yet you felt yourself overheating at his bold acts. if this is how far he’ll go for an act, imagine how far he’ll go for the real thing.

ate his meal like nothing happened. you were the one who couldn’t eat.

jade, vil, rook, lilia che’nya

YOU HAD HIM THE SECOND YOU SPOKE ; YOU PROPOSE

yes. you didn’t even need to finish your sentence, it’s a yes. he’ll do it. ohhh propose! sure! he’ll do it right now! what? later? okay! wait, just pretend? ah. he sees now. while a little disappointed that this was just for a free meal, he’ll still do it. it’s basically real if you act like it is, right? whatever! you asked him to do this, meaning you must like him enough right? he’s excited now just thinking about! don’t worry about anything, he’s got it all figured out!

or he thought he did. you grab his hand as you wore a charming smile on your face. you spoke of fond memories you had of him and moments you’ve had together (that didn’t actually happen) which just gave him butterflies. he was such anice outgoing and cheery person, yet, this is the first time he just can’t find the words. as you asked for his hand in marriage, he felt his heart skip a beat before accepting gracefully. as you both hear your congratulations, finished your meal, and left the restaurant, he refused to take the ring off of his finger. he’ll wear it forever. it’ll look very nice with the real one he got you when it’s his turn to propose.

pookie please take the ring off it made a dent in your finger

floyd, kalim, neige

YOU HAD HIM AT FREE FOOD

free? food? now those are words ruggie likes to hear in the same sentence. AND ITS A FANCY RESTAURANT? sign. him. up. there’s proposal involved? cool. while he’s also really into that, he seemed more interested in what kind of foods they give out for free yknow what im saying?

will it be authentic sunset savanna dishes? scalding sands dishes? foods from the shaftlands? cmon, just spit it out. it’s not that he doesn’t care! you actually did catch him off guard with that proposal bit. he’s just really excited for the food part. when he saw the restaurant, he could already tell the food was going to be good.

as the proposal goes along, yada, yada, yada, the dinner is presented on the table. was he in heaven? did he die? cause holy crappp.. getting to become his crushes fiancé while also eating good was his idea of paradise! and this was just one restaurant that did this? what about the others? you can’t just leave em hanging! when you guys actually propose to each other, he’ll definitely want to do it in another fancy restaurant.

ruggie

A/N: hey guys im back (god damn that’s a lot of tags)

date published: 8/16/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[actuallysaiyan]

hihihi!! this is for your lovely valentines day event!! i was thinking maybe SDV Sebastian tries to plan the most romantic Valentine’s Day, but everything falls through and he has to try and improvise to impress reader! it can be nsfw or sfw its totally up to you!! :)) 💕

warnings: mentions of drinking, use of vibrator, Sebastian is a nasty little thing, Robin knows y'all are gonna get nasty word count: 1.1k pairings: Sebastian x Fem!Reader summary: Valentine's Day usually sucks for Seb, and this one is no different...except he really needs it to go well despite all his plans crumbling before his eyes.

Sebastian cannot believe how terribly this is going. After all the planning he put into today, it was just all crumbling before his very eyes. He’s been pining after you ever since the spring Flower dance, and now it’s winter and it’s valentine’s day and he had everything all planned out in the best way. Yet it just wasn’t going to work out in his favor.

The secret gift he had made for you? Somehow someone got into his room and it got pushed off the shelf. So the clay figurine of your character in Solarian Chronicles is completely destroyed. He had written you a sweet song, but for the life of him, he can’t find the notebook he wrote it in. And even the gift he ordered for you online isn’t going to show up on time.

Sebastian lays on his bed, his eyes closed tight and his breathing coming in and out quickly. He’s got just a few hours to be able to improvise for you, otherwise things are going to become even more terrible. He texts Sam for advice, then he texts Abigail. They both have different ideas for what he can do to make this work, but Sebastian begins working harder. He knows he’s going to have to figure something out. So he calls up the Saloon and he begs Gus to cook him up some sort of meal for you and him. Gus decides to do this favor for Sebastian, telling him to come pick it up within the hour.

The next thing he’s planning is to make his room a little more romantic. He changes the sheets, finds a few candles to light and cleans off the table so you both can eat there. Then he goes upstairs, looking for his mother. 

Robin cheerfully helps her son plan the rest of the night sweetly. She reminds the rest of the family not to bother the happy couple, and she even gives Sebastian a bottle of champagne. He’s blushing as she hands this to him, a soft “have fun!” coming from her lips. Sebastian doesn’t even know what she’s thinking, but he knows she can probably deduce that there will be something naughty going on downstairs.

In the backyard, Seb begins picking some flowers. He doesn’t have a gift to give you, but he knows you love flowers. And once he gets a nice bouquet going, he spots Linus. The older man flashes him a soft smile, knowing that Sebastian is working his hardest to still make this a very romantic day. Despite the cold, Sebastian manages to pluck beautiful Crocus flowers and a few Holly for some balance.

Once he’s got the pretty bouquet of winter flowers, he settles them in a vase in his room. Sebastian takes a moment to look around and admire his handiwork. This bedroom was going to be the perfect setting for such a romantic evening. All that was left was for him to go pick you and the meals up. He takes the quickest shower and gets dressed in a warm hoodie and those tight jeans you love so much.

On his way to pick you up, his stomach is in knots. He’s worried you’ll be disappointed by the lack of real gifts and the way this night would go down. But when you greet him on the porch of your home, you’ve got the biggest smile on your face.

“Happy valentine’s day!” You say with a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He smiles, “Happy valentine’s day.”

You two share a sweet little kiss, and he pulls you in so close. It’s a sweet moment between two lovers, and he never wants this to end. Then he takes you by the hand and leads you towards the town center. You two stop at the Saloon to pick up the delicious dinner that Gus had prepared for you. He passes it to Sebastian, a playful wink and a glint in his eyes.

The walk back to Sebastian’s place has you so giddy. It feels like you’re floating on a cloud as you tell him about your day and he listens to you so attentively. Your heart is so full of love and happiness.  

Inside his room, he pours some champagne for you and you two sit and eat such a delectable meal. Seb presents the flowers to you, which you coo over. You sheepishly give him a cute little valentine’s card you made for him. You scratch the back of your neck nervously, telling him you’ve been busy taking care of the animals and mining lately to make him anything more than that.

He smiles softly, “It’s perfect, baby.”

After dinner, you’re both full of champagne. It bubbles inside of both of you, coursing through your veins. Sebastian has you pinned to the bed, kissing you over and over. The way he holds you and kisses you makes your head spin. He presses his knee between your thighs, smirking at the way you moan from just this.

“Would you believe that when I got up this morning,” Sebastian asks between heated kisses. “That I thought everything was fucked up?”

You giggle, “Knowing you, yeah I’m not so surprised.”

He feigns being insulted, but it fuels him even more. He begins undressing you slowly, his eyes lingering on your beautiful body. Then he begins to press soft kisses to your most sensitive spots, relishing in the way you moan and gasp just for him. It’s so intoxicating to know that you react to the way he makes you feel so good. It’s something he prides himself on, and he knows he’s not going to stop anytime soon.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts as he grinds against you. “I’m kind of happy this is how this night turned out.”

You mewl, “Me too, Sebby.”

He grins mischievously before reaching over for the drawer in the bedside table. You know what he’s reaching for and it makes your heart race like crazy. The sounds of the vibrations coming from the wand vibrator make your cunt dribble even more slick. Sebastian chuckles darkly.

“Cute,” he murmurs hotly against your neck. “Just hearing this thing gets you going, yeah?”

You nod your head, making him chuckle again. Then he brings the vibrator to your aching cunt, and you cry out for him. The sounds of your cute little moans make his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, he lets the vibrator circle around your swollen nub. Sebastian has you exactly where he wants you.

“All mine…All mine for valentine’s day. My perfect valentine.”

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[skyguytoast]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄....

warning: some of the headcanons are explict, +18.

a/n: hii again, i guess writing headcanons allow me to pour out my thoughts about this movie, hope you enjoy and if you fell like comment or reblog, this literally makes my day😻😻

• Sam would never openly admit he was in love—not at first. Instead, he’d annoy you just to get a reaction. A poke to your ribs, flicking a paper ball at your head, pulling your hair lightly when you weren’t paying attention. He thrived off of your exasperated looks and playful shoves, convincing himself it was just fun. But deep down, it scared the hell out of him—this thing he was feeling, this pull toward you he couldn’t ignore. • When Sam finally admitted his feelings to himself, he didn’t waste time hiding them from you. No grand gestures, no cheesy romance movie confessions—just raw honesty. One night, while you sat together, he fidgeted with his rings before finally muttering, "I think about you all the time. And I don’t know what to do about it." His voice was quiet, but his eyes held nothing but sincerity. • Your first kiss wasn’t planned—it just happened. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, and at the last second, he turned his head, your lips colliding in an accidental but electric moment. You froze, staring at each other for what felt like forever, before his hand found your face, adjusting the angle—then he kissed you for real, slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every second. • Sam never officially asked you to be his girlfriend —he just assumed you were. You liked each other, you spent all your time together, so why did you need labels? But when he noticed how much it would mean to you, he actually tried. He showed up at your place, awkwardly holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and grumbled, "So... do you, uh, wanna make this official or something?" • Sam wasn’t big on PDA, but he always made sure you felt his presence. A hand resting on your back, fingers hooked into your belt loops, a casual arm around your waist when he pulled you close. Sitting together, his hand would absentmindedly rest on your thigh, tracing tiny circles with his thumb. It was never too much—just enough to remind you that you were his. • Behind closed doors, though? Sam was needy. He always had to be touching you—arms wrapped around your waist, head resting in your lap, kissing your temple as he pulled you against his chest. At night, he’d curl up behind you, pressing sleepy kisses to the back of your neck before muttering, "You’re stuck with me, you know that?" like some sort of half-assed love confession. • He made you a playlist, and it was the closest thing to a love letter you’d ever get from him. The songs were scrawled onto the back of a CD cover, his handwriting messy but unmistakable. You skimmed the tracklist and smirked. "'Can’t Take My Eyes Off You'?" you teased. "Didn’t take you for a Frankie Valli guy." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "You like it, don’t you?" • Even though he’d never say it outright, Sam loved how you listened to him. When he rambled about obscure bands, the evolution of punk, or why a specific 1979 guitar riff was way better than its 1980s version, you actually listened. You asked questions, nodded at the right moments, and even remembered random facts he told you weeks ago. It made something in his chest go tight. • You had a habit of stealing his sweatshirts and t-shirts, and even though he grumbled, he secretly loved it. Seeing you in his oversized hoodie, drowning in his scent, made something primal in him soften. One day, he crossed his arms and smirked, "So, uh… think I could borrow my sweatshirt back? Or are you just gonna take over my whole closet?" • Sam wasn’t the type to talk about the future, but in quiet moments, he let it slip. Like when you were sprawled across his bed, talking about nothing, and he absentmindedly murmured, "You know, I’d go anywhere with you." Or when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "I don’t know how you put up with me, but I hope you never stop." Because even if he didn’t say the words I love you all the time, you felt it in every little thing he did.

+𝟏𝟖 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒)

• You were Sam's first time. Before you, he had only known the fleeting pleasure of his own hand and imagination. He had touched himself countless times, stroking his hardening cock until thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. But nothing could have prepared him for the ethereal, overwhelming sensation of being inside your tight, wet heat. Your body was his new temple, and he wanted to worship every inch of it. With each thrust, each deep stroke, Sam felt a primal connection, a claiming that transcended the physical. You were his now, in a way he had never belonged to anyone before.

• Sam whines and whimper whenever you give him a blowjob. When your luscious lips wrap around the head of his cock, Sam is helpless to keep quiet. Guttural moans and whimpers tear from his throat, his back arching off the bed as he fists the sheets for support. Tears of overwhelming sensation prick the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring as you take him deeper, your nose pressing against his pelvis. The wet heat of your mouth, the flick of your tongue, the gentle suction - it's all too much, yet not enough. Sam's balls tighten, his cock pulsing and throbbing against your tongue as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face until he paints your throat with his release.

• Sam adores being at the mercy of your desires, in the delicious agony of giving up control. He loves the feeling of your body moving above him, your breasts bouncing hypnotically as you ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, is the ultimate turn-on. Sam's hands roam your body, squeezing the globes of your ass, thumbing your nipples, mapping every dip and curve. He wants to learn you by touch alone, to commit your body to memory. As you chase your orgasm, Sam loses himself in the erotic dance of your coupling, drunk on the sensation of being so deeply, thoroughly fucked.

• But Sam also knows how to take charge when you need him to, to give you what you crave. He pins your wrists above your head, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you down, immobilizing you completely. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that rocks the bed and shakes the headboard against the wall. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, of your desperate moans and his whining grunts. Sam's blue eyes darken with lust and possession, his gaze boring into yours as he marks your body with his touch, his teeth, his cock.

• In the missionary position, Sam braces himself above you, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back, wanting to prolong the moment. As he feels his climax approaching, Sam buries his face between your perfect breasts, motorboating your cleavage and breathing in your intoxicating scent. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his. As his orgasm builds, Sam's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, no doubt leaving bruises behind. With a whimper that's part pleasure, part pain, Sam hilts inside you one last time as he comes, his cock pulsing and jerking, flooding your womb with his hot, thick seed. His face remains buried in your cleavage as his body shaking with the force of his release. In that moment, Sam knows he would do anything, anything at all, to keep you by his side, to hold onto this feeling of utter completion and belonging. You are his, and he is yours, and nothing will ever tear you apart.

[innerfare]

Law Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Law angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Sees to your wound without a word, making sure it’s disinfected and bandaged and receives proper care until its healed. Places a soft, quiet kiss atop your head, doesn’t say a word. Makes a mental plan to avoid similar situations in the future. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Refuses to share his toothpaste with you and gets annoyed if you leave the cap off of yours. After you both brush and rinse, will wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in for a fresh, minty kiss. 

Flowers: 

Gravitates toward orchids, especially in darker shades of pink, purple, and blue; they feel a little moodier and less kitschy than the red roses Bepo tells him he’s supposed to buy to woo you (side note: imagine Law getting relationship advice from Bepo). One night folded an origami flower for you, and you liked it so much that he spent the rest of the night folding an entire bouquet, though he pretends it only took him five minutes. He doesn’t actually give the origami bouquet to you so much as he just sets it on your nightstand one day and mutters something about how the flowers won’t need water. He gets kind of annoyed if you make a big deal out of it. 

Type of Date: 

Museum date, full stop. Probably a science museum, but would happily do a fine art museum. If museums were open at night, it would definitely be a nighttime museum date, but he’ll settle for a weekday when nobody’s there. The two of you will lose track of time going from exhibit to exhibit discussing what’s on display. And Law is definitely the sort of guy to read up on the exhibits beforehand to impress you. Would also take you to a bookstore and buy you anything you want if you agree to sit with a coffee afterward.  

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

You don’t know what you were expecting- would it be sterile like an operating room? You’re surprised to see comic books and a few action figures. He has some records, too- a bit of rock, some low-key emo music- and to your complete and utter surprise, a candy wrapper on his nightstand. And then there’s the coin collection on his desk, tiny pieces of metal he picked up on his many travels. You’re careful not to have a big reaction to his personality showing through for once. 

“I like your action figures.” 

“They’re kind of childish, but-” 

You cut him off before he can dismiss his own interests as dumb. “No, they’re not. They’re cool.” 

Fighting and Making Up: 

His emotional unavailability combined with his protective streak is a source of contention between the two of you. He wants you to be free, but sometimes, he finds himself in a dark place where he just wants to lock you in a tower. But what makes it so vexing is that he won’t even talk to you about it, just shuts you out of plans and operations because he can’t bear the thought of losing you or you getting hurt. Also has times when he won’t let you out of his sight but won’t admit that’s what he’s doing, which makes it so much more annoying. He’ll get mad at you if you do something without telling him, especially if it could be dangerous, which often leads you to argue that he's not exactly known for his communication skills. The two of you usually make up after you’ve been giving him the silent treatment for a few days and he crawls into bed beside you. The darkness makes him feel safe enough to press some warm kisses into your hand and then mutter an apology into your neck. Other times, he’ll write a short note and slip it into one of your books because he’s much better at writing than talking. And if it’s on you to do the making up, cooking for him is a good place to start. 

Paradise 1: 

Climbing out of bed before dawn because neither of you can sleep, having a cup of coffee, and walking hand in hand down the beach, stopping to bend down and pick up rare seashells to add to the collection on the bookshelf in your bedroom, not talking much at all but simply admiring your shared bounty in the pale dawn light as the sun creeps over the horizon.   

Paradise 2: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Nightmares: 

Bang! He never sees the nightmare, but he always hears the gunshot. He wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering beneath his covers, the taste of metal lingering in his mouth and the gunshot still echoing in his ears. He’s awake, but he’s back in that treasure chest, and this time, you’re the one laying dead in the snow. Alternatively, you’re in a hospital bed, writing in pain, screaming in agony, calling out his name, pleading with him to save you, and he’s in sea prism stone handcuffs, forced to watch you succumb to an illness only he can save you from. Again, he wakes up in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs, trapping him and making him feel like he’s still in that nightmare, completely and utterly useless. He has to climb out of bed and walk it off, might even train a bit with his sword to regain a sense of control. 

Wearing His Hat: He works so hard- it’s one of the things you love about him. You typically try not to disturb him while he’s in the middle of a book, but every once in a while, you can see that he’s not lost in the book so much as he is holding it in his hands to keep the people around him at a distance, allowing him to think a little too much about what’s stressing him out. 

You can tell by the tension in his neck and shoulders, the way his eyes don’t really focus on the pages but rather look right through them. 

“Put the book down. It’s time for dinner.” Coming up behind him, you give his shoulders a squeeze before sitting on his desk, kicking your feet a little bit. 

“Not hungry.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

He cast you an annoyed look but said nothing else. 

Knowing he wouldn’t budge unless you jumpstarted him, you snatched his hat off his head and placed it atop yours. 

“Y/n-ah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me my hat back.” 

“If you want it so bad,” you told him with a small smile. “Put the book down and come and get it from me.” With that, you hopped off his desk and slipped out of the office. 

Law glanced down at his book. He didn’t give it another thought, just tossed it aside and climbed out of his chair to get that hat off your head, and possibly another garment or two. 

I Love You: 

Law is pretty bad with words, and, for lack of a better term, he sort of lacks a bedside manner. Needless to say, this carries over into other aspects of his life, including his love life (or lack thereof; Law has little to no experience in this arena). One afternoon, though, the two of you are fighting because you want to accompany Law somewhere and he insists it’s too dangerous despite all of your qualifications and skills as a fighter. You keep pressing and pressing, demanding to know why he won’t let you go when you are perfectly capable, until finally he blurts it out. “I love you! Alright? And I won’t lose you.” You aren’t even in any sort of relationship at that point, the two of you just sort of stewing in unresolved tension. His irate confession is the tipping point, and you become an item after that. When you hear it from him after that, it’s always in private, usually in the late hours of the night when he slips into bed and buries his face in your neck. Other times, it’s when you two pass each other in the hallway aboard the Polar Tang and he catches your hand in his, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles, muttering the words, and moving along quickly for fear someone might see despite the entire crew knowing about your relationship. 

You’re Jealous: 

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[fiendishfables]

Lucifer is one of those guys who is really happy to love someone & to be loved in return. He would treat you right, that’s for sure. 💕👹

Lucifer Morningstar Headcannons

warnings: nsfw, fluff

words: 584

a/n: this feels a bit rushed because I tried to make it earlier, but tumblr loves to delete my progress on things so- blep. Also, whoever is sending these in, I LOVE YOU, these are fun, hehe <3

SFW

Due to his questionable past, Lucifer has always been a bit skeptical of love

Unfortunately, he is used to the good things in his life, the things he so happens to love the most, up and abandoning him 

But then, Lucifer being Lucifer, he’s all too forgiving

He is quite the incentive driven creature 

If he goes into a relationship where he knows he will be granted the gift of receiving the same pleasures that he himself provides for his partner, he just might have to poke at you a bit to ensure that you are indeed a real being, and not some walking figment of his imagination

His motivations are similar to those of a puppy

Besides being a good boy as unintentionally as he does, he is lured in by the sense of some sort of reward

Bonus points if that reward involves some sort of physical contact, no matter the level of intimacy

This man is touch starved; put your hands on him in one way or another, please

Honestly, just jump on his back and hug him; he loves little displays of affection like that the most (even if you almost give him a heart attack the first few times)

You openly offering him the affection he so dearly craves from another person, it’s a for sure way to get him to stick around 

In fact, you may never be able to get rid of him

Lucifer, despite being in Hell, may just be the most loyal soul down in that shithole

Once the two of you have an officially established relationship, just the thought of being with anyone else other than you makes him cringe

He makes sure to mark his calendars for any sort of important date; anniversaries, date nights, dinners, etc

Yes, he has multiple calendars; he forgets things easy, but that just shows his devotion towards you is as true as he claims it is

Randomly will turn up at your domicile with a bouquet of flowers every now and again

Doesn’t have to be a special occasion or anything; just wants to show his love and appreciation for you

Finding someone that reciprocates his lovable energy and spirit is not easy, but you managed to snare his heart from the get-go

NSFW

Speaking of reciprocating love for another, Lucifer is a natural at pleasuring his partner

He refuses to leave the bedroom unless you convince him that you are truly satisfied with his efforts

Won’t let you pleasure him and then not give you anything back

It's just not in his nature to leave his lover awaiting his touch; he can’t go a day without yours, so why should you have to?

His tongue is as talented as they come; he can eat you out like there's no tomorrow to do so

King of praise

Loves to praise you and make you feel good with his actions, as well as his words

Always asks if you’re enjoying whatever he’s doing to you; if he gets even a hint that you’re uncomfortable, he’ll freeze like a deer in headlights

Probably cries during sex sometimes, claiming that he doesn’t deserve you; then proceeds to go on a fifteen minute rant about how lucky he is to have found a kind soul such as yourself to make him happy again

Every time you two make love it’s as if its your last

You’ve done so much for him; the least he can do is make you feel good

[locomoqo]

Thank you so much for doing my request from the prompt list about gun and butting the jacket it was perfect🥹if it’s not too much to ask how about gun again but with the prompt about buying flowers for no reason. If it’s too much plz ignore have the best day!!

જ⁀➴ GUN PARK (prompt: buying flowers for you for no reason)

જ⁀➴ prompt list here!

Gun wasn’t the type for romantic gestures, which made it even more surprising when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The blooms were understated yet elegant—no vibrant colors or frills, just a classic mix of your favorite flowers and soft greenery, wrapped in simple paper. It was… unexpected, to say the least. He didn’t strike you as the type to walk into a flower shop, let alone come home with a bouquet.

“Gun,” you started, eyeing the flowers with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What’s this?”

He held them out with his usual expression, cool and unreadable. If anything, there was the slightest crease of his brows, like even he was wondering why he had them.

“They’re flowers,” he stated simply, as if that cleared up all confusion.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, taking the bouquet from his hands and admiring the delicate petals. “I know they’re flowers,” you replied with a smirk. “I mean, what’s the occasion? Did I miss something?”

He watched you with that steady gaze, his lips set in a straight line. “Do I need a reason to give you flowers?”

The bluntness of his question caught you off guard, and you blinked at him, momentarily speechless. Gun wasn’t the type to be sentimental or to put emotions into words. You were used to his stoicism, the way he preferred actions over explanations, yet here he was, leaving you at a loss for words with such a simple question.

“Well… no,” you finally answered, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks. “But I thought you didn’t really go for this sort of thing.”

Gun tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “I don’t. But I thought you might.”

The admission was quiet, understated, but it hit you harder than any grand proclamation ever could. To anyone else, it would have seemed like nothing, but coming from him, it felt like a lot. You knew how much he valued control, how little he let himself indulge in things that seemed unnecessary or frivolous. But he had still done this—chosen flowers with you in mind, probably taking the time to make sure they were exactly the kind you’d like.

Unable to hold back your smile, you glanced down at the bouquet, gently brushing a finger over the soft petals. “I do like them,” you said softly, the words almost too light for the feeling welling up inside you.

He nodded, the slightest smirk playing on his lips. “Good.”

You wanted to say something more, to thank him, but you knew he’d brush it off with his usual indifference. Instead, you leaned over, pressing a light kiss on his cheek, feeling his slight intake of breath at the unexpected contact. For just a second, his gaze softened.

Gun’s face quickly returned to its usual stoicism, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked at you, that quiet intensity in his eyes that always seemed to say more than his words ever could.

“Don’t get used to it,” he murmured, but his hand lingered, steady on your back as you both stood there, close and comfortable.

[valsverse]

hi valerie!

i have a suggestion for a leo x reader. we all know he would give beautiful little gifts, so how do you think he would react when receiving them? like something artistic and carefully handmade. idk just thought it might me cute lmao

thank you 🩶

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ KNICKNACKS | leo valdez x gn!reader hc's [wc: 586]

leo would be so ecstatic omg

he'd handle the small trinket you made for him with so much care and delicacy, you'd think it was made out of glass. and once he was finished admiring your creation, (though, that would take a while.) he'd immediately blurt out a high-pitched "for me??"

he just struggles to comprehend why someone as talented as you would use your creative abilities for him? he's so used to being overlooked that even the thought of being the recipient of your artistry is almost unfathomable. :(

leo would turn your creations over and over in his hands, silently memorizing every detail, as if he's afraid that your work might vanish if he takes his eyes off of it.

and his reaction?? always stays the same?? no matter how long its been?? you'd present your work to him and he'd be so theatrically shocked. like full on gasping and lowkey fighting for his life as if he hadn't expected the gift at all, even though you'd been showering him with your creations for the past month.

but once he gets past that point?? he becomes almost obnoxious about it. 💀 he'd sit in the dining pavilion so proudly, your little knickknack perched right next to him with the full intent of somebody asking him about it JUST so that he could ramble about you.

literally ONE person would bring it up, just to make small conversation, and he'd be like, "oh, THIS?? it was made by MY partner, for ME, by the way. but no big deal, y'know."

waited his entire life for that moment fr.

i completely mean it when i say leo would sweep ALL the belongings from his shelf to showcase even ONE item you made for him in all its glory. front and center. his siblings are so confused.

but if you start regularly gifting him things and blessing him with your artistry on a daily basis? he'll dedicate an entire shelf to your creations. and it's so funny because the rest of his area is so cluttered and disorganized, with random unfinished projects laying around without a second thought, bed not even made, but the shelf above his bunk?? the one with all your creations sitting on it?? it's so neat?? organized and color coded and everything?? it almost looks out of place.

even when you're away on quests, he still admires the creations you've left behind, tenderly cradling them in his hands and running his fingers over every curve and edge, as though you were still with him in the moment. :((

after some time, the gifting thing would turn into running joke between you two. a game of one-upmanship where every gift had to be better than the last. like if you made him a small sculpture out of clay, he would show up at your cabin the next day with a BOUNTY full of creations he made himself, along with a bouquet of flowers that he borrowed with no intention of giving back (stole) from the demeter kids to top it all off. <3

you'd make him one thing and he makes you ten more, he's so whipped.

leo would cherish your gifts so much, like he's almost scared of ruining them. especially if your gift is something that is SUPPOSED to be worn, like a ring of some sort. he'd proudly wear it around camp, obviously, but he'd check on it every few minutes to make sure it hadn't magically vanished from his finger. or worse, broke.

of course, leo knows he could fix it if it became damaged, but it wouldn't be the same. it wouldn't have your charm and artistry, your unique touch that made it so special.

all in all, leo is so enamored with your creativity, but judging by his actions, you probably already knew that.

[leonw4nter]

hi! so i was wondering if you could do hcs for re2r leon who is dating a nurse? also i wanted to say that i love your writing!! it’s literally some of my favorite on this app 💗 thank you!

RE2R!Leon Headcanons on dating a nurse…

RE2R!Leon x GN!reader

You two had met when officer Rayman had to send him to the ER for stitches on his side after a physical encounter with a car thief on crack. You had been at the ER just passing time, occasionally attending to other patients if they needed any help.

You had already thought that the young officer was already attractive, but you didn’t pay his face much attention and rushed to help him with the cut on his side, as blood seeped through his white inner shirt and into his navy blue uniform. He was already used to being shirtless with a bunch of other officers in the locker rooms of the RPD but somehow, he felt flustered being topless in front of you.

“Gosh, your body is just goals,” you comment as you finish up the last of his stitches. Warmth floods his head, sending his brain swimming in all sorts of happiness-eliciting chemicals. “It’s so good, actually. What’s your workout routine?”

“Oh it’s– um…–” he stammered. Pistol squats, weighted squats, glute extensions, weighted calf raises, thirty-second sprints, leg swings, cat camel, crab reaches, and some kicking. It would’ve been easy for him to share his gym regimen and tell you its intervals but with you looking up at him with doe eyes, all words melted into goo before they could leave his throat. “Oh– it’s just, you know– squats, calf raises, some running. That stuff… I think– I mean, yeah! Just these um… exercises, yeah. Right.”

He wanted to kick himself and never come back to that ER again but you didn’t seem to notice his awkward stammering (or did really well that it looked like you didn’t notice it).

You gave your number to him in case he had any questions or needed help with tending to the stitches just below his ribs and since Marvin had given him 2 days off to recuperate, he took the time to call you and asked if he could send you some donuts during one of your lunch breaks soon.

“I was wondering if– if you’ll be okay with me dropping some donuts off at your work during your break. It’s just my small token of thanks,” he said. He wished that he prepared a script ahead and practiced a handful more times, unconfident with the trembling in his voice and the small voice crack he hoped the phone didn’t pick up.

“Oh! Of course! That’d be great! Leave it at the front desk, to a certain Nurse Joyce and I’ll pick it up,” you gleefully say.

“That’d be awesome. So uh… see you soon, I guess?”

“See me soon? Are you implying that there’s going to be more than one occasion where we’re going to see each other–”

“Goodnight, nurse!”

He didn’t mean to sound rude or come off as a sourpuss but your words coming back to him when he thought it would stay only in the form of thoughts in his mind scared him, he just had to hang up.

After several dates and 5 months spent together as friends, Leon bashfully asked if you would want him as a boyfriend because he felt ready to be your boyfriend if you were ready for the commitment. His poor hands were gripping the bouquet too tightly, wrinkling the plastic wrapping around his large hands. His eyes looked comically round and almost puppy-like, especially with his dilated pupils. You nodded and said yes to him, gently taking the flowers and giving him a big hug. Before you went inside your door when he sent you home, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and blew him a kiss before going inside. Poor Leon stood frozen in front of your steps, pleasantly shocked as a wide grin made its way into his baby face. You stayed behind the door for a bit, listening to him. You swear you heard a giddy laugh and a silent “Yes!” from the other side.

Watching medical shows became a regular thing between you two. You pointed out some of the medical inaccuracies and explained what should actually be happening as Leon looked at you with hearts in his eyes. It was also vice versa: you watching a cop show with him and him breaking down the mechanics of how investigations are done while you nod and hum in agreement while silently swooning over the increasing animation of his hands as he went over the laws and breaches in ethics.

“Whew, that was so smart of you.” You say as you scooch closer to him and lean against his shoulder. This confused Leon at first.

“Huh? Why– what’d I do?” He anxiously asked, worried he did something wrong even though that didn’t seem to be the case.

“You really got into the nitty gritty of it and went into hypothetical scenarios with different outcomes of the situation. You know, I heard that you graduated at the top of your police academy.”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Uh, yeah… I did but it’s nothing, really. You’re really smart too, you know.”

Before you, Leon used to simply wash his cuts with water and anti-bacterial soap and not place a bandage over it. Now, he’s immediately asking you for band-aids whenever he has one. Sometimes, the band-aids look ridiculous: bright yellow band-aids with rubber ducks, Disney princesses, cartoons, or cute animal doodles but he doesn’t mind, it’s like a small piece of you that he carries into work, a small reminder of you keeping his wound guarded.

Leon’s now a regular at the hospital, you a regular at the police station. At the hospital, the older nurses and doctors like to grill him about you and how he’s treating you. Back at the police station, the officers like to share stories about all the times Leon embarrassed himself by accident or when he started out as a rookie. They loved to bring up how fast Leon managed to solve the puzzles they set up for him when he had his first day on the job, recommending challenging puzzle kits as a gift for him. What both your coworkers had in common was scrunching their nose and feigning dislike for your mild displays of affection like hugging and kisses to the cheek.

If Leon needed to request for a leave due to medical reasons, he considered himself lucky that you were qualified to be able to write up a medical certificate to present once he got back.

“Officer, I don’t think I can accept this.”

“Why not? It’s written by a medical professional, a licensed one too.”

“We don’t accept certificates coming from–”

“Someone we’re legally associated with? Yes. That includes parents, siblings, and spouses but they’re not my spouse. Well, not yet at least, so I think I’m free to go. Nothing in the handbook indicates that I can’t have my unmarried partner make my certificate.”

“... consider yourself lucky, officer. Fine, I’ll take it.”

He does consider himself lucky– more than lucky, in fact.

One time, he got curious and decided to ask to see the needles you use on patients. On a particularly silly mood that day, you decided to exaggerate a little bit. You took the needle meant for an epidural, a needle around 6 inches, and explained that this went into the spine. He had gone pale, the rosiness and pinkish tint of his face vanishing as you demonstrated how it would be used. You showed him the needles used for intramuscular injections and he adjusts the collar of his clothes, a little queasy at the thought of these scary devices being used on a near-daily basis.

There are some days where you’d come home completely silent and drained, feeling blue from the events that had gone down in the hospital. If Leon got home first, he’d be welcoming you with a beaming grin and open arms but once he spots the puffiness of your face indicative of crying, he pulls you in for a hug and immediately asks what’s wrong before listening to you and offering words of comfort or the solace of his presence with you.

Back then, he simply relied on fruits and the occasional vegetable for his vitamins but after dating you, you decided to slip some vitamins after meals into his diet. He particularly likes the gummy vitamins though you remember to remind him to take them out of the car so they won’t melt and turn into one cluster.

NOTE - Thank you so so much to the anon who sent this, I hope you liked it <3 I've been having writer's block for a bit so it took a long time to complete a request like this but I'm glad that I managed to get this done for you :) I didn't format this post like how I usually format it (w the dividers and text gradients) bc there's a major weather disturbance from where I live and it's affecting the signal and connection speed of the internet so I'll probably make this look pretty once the storm passes us. School starts again in like... a week so requests getting done will prolly take some time so I'll do my best to post everything before everything goes tits up in terms of academics. Anyway, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

[mantas-ray]

VALENTINE’S DAY FT. JAYCE TALIS

includes! jayce’s love language + valentine’s day themes

tags. gn!reader, fluff, cheesy & cliché asf. this was supposed to be 3 love languages but jayce is filled w so much love i had to do all. obvi there will be some he’s more inclined to, but i think he does all to some capacity

a/n. i’m sorry this is late jayce nd i were trying for a baby (he’s the one getting pregnant btw) but for real school has been hell and i’ve been lacking motivation lately

GIFT GIVING

Jayce loves giving gifts, especially to those he loves. Whether it’s birthdays, anniversaries or holidays, he’s sure to get his loved ones a thoughtful present.

It’s no different on Valentine’s Day. Every year, he gets his mother and Caitlyn their favourite flowers with a handwritten note attached because Valentine’s Day is about showing appreciation to those he loves — not just romantically. He also gives Viktor a gift, maybe a collection of caffeinated teas.

He goes all out with you, though. Jayce occasionally gives you flowers, so he steps up his game. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you your favourite flowers, because he 100% will. In addition to a huge bouquet, he gifts you a little black box with something he made inside.

Jayce will be in his forge days before, creating a trinket for you. It could be a bracelet, necklace, or ring. Jayce would make you an engagement ring with your initials engraved on the inside of its band when that time comes around, but for now, he’d settle for a simple promise ring. He doesn’t often gift you things he’s created in his forge because he doesn’t want it to lose its novelty.

Though Jayce may claim getting him a gift is unnecessary, it’s a lie. He gets ecstatic when you return the favour. If you give him any jewellery, he won’t take it off. Have you seen how attached he is to the hex crystal on his leather wristband? It’s because it’s held significance to his life, and so have you.

He’d want to be buried with any jewellery you’ve gotten him — rings, bracelet, a locket with a picture of your face — he’s cherishing it. The only way to show his appreciation of the piece, and by extension, you, is to wear it every day until he can’t anymore.

ACTS OF SERVICES (no vday mention but u win some u lose some)

Living with Jayce can be monotonous, but being a Councilor or being with a Councilor is not the average experience, so the monotony is comforting.

Simple chores such as taking out the trash or cleaning up your shared home provide normalcy in his life that the role of a Councilor didn’t fulfil. Don’t get him wrong, he’s grateful for his seat on the Council, but some days Jayce would rather be stuck in his lab working out kinks in an invention or maybe preparing a meal to surprise you when you’re home from work or school instead of being in an office.

I’ve seen people headcanon Jayce as a terrible cook. It is funny, but I personally think Jayce spent a lot of time in the kitchen with his mom growing up, and food is a love language for him. He seems like a guy who eats good. (Have you seen how huge he is??)

His mother would cut apples and bring them to him when he was preoccupied with studying or research. Jayce does the same for you.

When you’re overworking yourself, hunched over your desk, one spelling error away from a mental breakdown, Jayce will knock on the door and offer you fresh fruit or a simple meal. Jayce would love to be home helping around, but he’s rarely there, so he tries to help in the little ways he can.

It’s a nonverbal reminder to take care of yourself because Jayce loves you and doesn’t want you to stress yourself out. It is hypocritical, considering he returns home late most days because he’s usually worrying about political business.

He doesn’t mind when you return the gesture, of course. There will be days he’s overworked and needs you to care for him.

QUALITY TIME & PHYSICAL TOUCH

These go hand in hand with Jayce. If he’s spending time with you, he’s touching you in some sort of way. He’s like a newborn baby — Jayce needs skin-to-skin contact. He wakes up earlier just to experience you cuddled up next to him, and he has to kiss you before work each morning. You’re not conscious half the time, but you feel his lips on your forehead.

Normally, he attempts to make any excuse to see you throughout the day to spend an extra couple of hours with you. You’re at the academy as a scholar or professor? He’s dropping by after your class to gift you a sweet treat — a kiss or, if you’re lucky, some sort of pastry — and chat you up.

His hand subconsciously itch to touch you when you’re conversing. He doesn’t know where to put them, though. Jayce contemplates resting them on your hip, but they just brush against you until you take the hint and intertwine your fingers with his.

If you work elsewhere, Jayce is taking his lunchtime to bother you during yours. He buys you lunch and asks how your day is so far, attempting to spend as much time as possible with you since you both have busy schedules.

Jayce would take you out to a fancy dinner for Valentine’s Day if you’d like, but enjoying each other’s company after another tiring day of work is what he’d prefer most.

He loves cooking and enjoys every component of dinner with you, including preparing, eating, and washing the dishes.

Music fills the room, and Jayce hums to the tune while he prepares the ingredients. You don’t even have to cook — you could be his taste tester, ensuring he’s added enough seasoning. You’re both enjoying each other’s presence, not talking much.

Jayce gets his recipes from his mom. He definitely asked her which dish would impress you the most, and he followed the written instructions on the piece of paper. When you compliment the meal, he tells his mom how much you appreciate it when he visits her later.

As boring as it seems, he loves doing the dishes with you. It’s another excuse to spend more time with you, even if it’s mundane. He washes the plates; you dry them. It’s repetitive, but he adores the close proximity, your shoulders bumping together as he passes you another plate for you to dry.

However, his favourite part of Valentine’s Day is taking a bath with you. Sure, it’s cliché, but Jayce is a lover boy. It’s not often he gets you like this, so let him have it.

Jayce can barely fit in the bathtub, his knees peeking out the warm water as he bends his knees, suds clinging to his bare skin, but he doesn’t care. It can go either way: your back pressed to Jayce’s chest, his chin resting on top of your damp hair or Jayce’s back is pressed to your chest, his head resting on the crook of your neck.

He doesn’t mind either way. Once your bare skin is sticking to his, Jayce is at peace. The added scent of fragrant candles and the gentle light they cast on your dewy skin increased the intimacy of the scenario. There’s something about cleaning each other’s body, cleansing the other of the day’s burden that sends Jayce’s heart beating erratically.

Additionally, Jayce gives you an amateur massage before bed. He’s oddly good at it. Jayce is strong, and his hands are skilled, but it’s downright orgasmic when his thumb digs into your back, working out the knots.

He expects you to repay him for his efforts. Maybe not by a massage, but you’re going to have to make it up to him somehow. I’m sure you’ll get creative.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Jayce is very vocal about his love with you. He tells you he loves you any chance he gets. Between kisses, before work, while you’re asleep — he wants you to know how much he loves you. He needs you to know you mean the world to him.

It’s not just ‘I love you’s he tells you. Jayce loves complimenting you, even when you think you look like shit. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he says after you’ve woken up from your well-deserved nap. You have bags under your eyes, your hair’s dishevelled, and your eyes are barely open, but Jayce truthfully thinks you’re gorgeous no matter how much you think you look a mess.

He also makes it known how proud he is of you. Again, you don’t need to do anything revolutionary; maybe you finished a book, yet Jayce lets it be known how proud he is of you.

Jayce talks about you to other people. I’m sure Caitlyn is sick of hearing how amazing you are, and his mother is elated her son found someone who loves him so dearly. It’s all she wants for her sweet boy.

[z0mb13-34ts-br41ns]

Valentine's Headcanons <3

yippee more call of duty headcanons, this time a valentines special! I forgot to write anything so I'm writing this last minute in my after school club </3 This one is specifically romantic coded, but could be a very close platonic relationship I guess.

Enjoy :D

Price - he's very traditional about Valentine's Day. A bouquet of flowers, your favorite, a box of chocolate, a nice dinner date, and millions of compliments. Any gift, no matter how small, means the world to him. You can see the way he lights up when you hand it to him, and insists you didn't have to.

Soap - some sort of fun date, he wants it to be unique. An escape room, or go karting, or an improvement show idk, just not something you'd do everyday. He gets you some treats as well, of course!

Gaz - sweet little lover boy over here <3 full royal treatment, you are not going to lay a finger on anything remotely stressful. He showers you in compliments, gets you flowers, gifts, candy, a teddy bear, the works.

Ghost - he has a hard time showing his emotions, so he ends up putting it off until the last minute. He tries, of course, but he would rather you just tell him what you want to do. In the end, he decides to just say yes to everything you suggest, hoping you'll understand that's his way of showing he cares.

Makarov - he doesn't celebrate, not fully. He's far too busy and doesn't really care for giving meaningless gifts. What's the point on spending money on all that? He does, however, enjoy receiving gifts he's always been a taker. At most, you can get a few things out of him, with enough begging and convincing.

Graves - he goes above and beyond with Valentine's. One of those person sized teddy bears, more flowers than you could ever need, everything. He takes you shopping, and makes a home cooked meal. He also likes to show you off, evey person he gets the chance to tell, he's on and on about how you're his valentine, and how he's yours.

König - he hasn't celebrated Valentine's Day for most of his life, so he's very pathetic. He tries his best, but shopping for flowers scares him since there's so many and be doesn't know what any of them are. In the end, he gives you a little box of chocolates and a handwritten card, and hopes that its good enough. He doesn't know how to receive compliments so it's a lot of awkward nodding and thanking and apologising.

-

Sorry this came out so late. I'm so tired, and I have no motivation to write. I hope these are good enough, because I'm going to bed now.

Happy Valentine's day

[juppl]

TWST HC Silver x Gn!Reader

I love the idea of trying to pursue Silver or even just trying to just be friendly with him. But everything, whether it be plant or animal is getting in your way and trying to stop you from achieving it.

You’d plan to surprise Silver with a lovely arrangement of flowers all nicely wrapped in a bow only to be immediately drowned by a dark cloud of rain. The lord of malevolence unknowingly ruining your plans having to coincidentally be in a sour mood. Unfortunately all the rain and wind had the bouquet completely torn and destroyed, leaving you hung with sadness.

Another time, you had been blessed with the opportunity to be given a tour of the NRC stables by Silver himself. Only for the problem being that the moment Silver’s back was turned, you had been immediately bit by his own horse. This initiating a physical brawl between you and it.

“Is something wrong? I thought I had heard some noise earlier.” Silver trailed off as he noticed your now disheveled hair and clothes, only to be met back with a wide reassuring smile from you and… his horse? “Nothing! Just a pretty big wind passed by is all.” You laughed as your arm remained resting around the horses neck, the two of you seemingly putting aside your fighting to put up face. Silver could only hum in response before continuing to show you around, strange he hadn’t felt any sort of wind earlier.

Or what about when you spotted Silver walking just ahead of you, giving you thought to catch up and say ‘hi’. But, a small squirrel who just happens to be quite fond of silver itself, decides to stop you in your tracks.

“I’ll kick you to the next fucking plane if I have to.” You sneered at the rodent as you had basically hunched down to whisper loudly in its face. The only response you got was a string of squeaks and clicks before getting an acorn thrown at your forehead, it leaving a small red bump. “You little-!”

No matter what you tried, big or small, it all went up in flames, snow, or just plain out ripped to shreds (that including you):

Your tray of baked goods were quickly stolen after being left out on the windowsill to cool. -Grim

The notes you made to help Silver study ruined by a spilled potion incident. -Ace

You had burned your hand by accidentally being knocked over while trying to deliver a hot bowl of soup to a bedridden Silver. -Sebek opened the door on you too hard…

A loose branch had swung and hit you in the ribs when you tried to alert a sleeping Silver in the botanical gardens. -Tree

And a nice flower crown you had just made had been stolen and given to Silver without your credit. -That stupid squirrel

You sighed to yourself, slumped in your own infirmary bed. Drooping in your own self pity and sadness. It just wasn’t meant to be, you supposed as you tried to itch at the bandages over your hand. It’s fine, there are other fish in the sea that are probably easier anyways. Even if this one was really pretty and nice and so special in your eyes, you sniffled as small pitiful tears prickled your eyes.

“Hey! Henchman, you have a visitor!” Grim stated as he patted his paws against your stomach. “Hm? ..!”

He was like a the sun rising above the horizon, filling the dark sky with beautiful rays of light. “Um, sorry if I came at a bad time. I’ve brought soup…” Silver said softly as he held up a plastic bag of warm food. Your mouth gaped, shaking your head quickly in response. “No! No, it’s ok come sit!” You eagerly invited as your feet practically kicked in joy while you laid in bed.

“It’s not much, but I thought it would help with getting your strength back up for now. I know it’s probably not as good as your soup, but consider it thanks for taking care of me for a while.” He smiled down at you as he unpacked the contents of food from its plastic container. This was probably the most you’ve ever heard him talk in all seriousness, “But- How did you know—?”

“Sebek told me. I didn’t want your kindness to go unnoticed so I assumed that the best way to pay you back was to take care of you in return.” Silver explained before holding up a spoonful of soup to your mouth, unknowingly drinking it right up. He flashed another soft smile only to realize you had completely passed out. “Uh— wait! (Y/n)?? (Y/n)?!..”

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS

tighnari x gender neutral!reader — oneshot. romance.

if you read between the lines, colors, and shapes of the petals, perhaps you might find meaning conveyed to you through the language of flowers.

— wherein you are a secret admirer of tighnari and you decide to send him flowers and along with equally-flowery words.

Rukkhadhava Mushrooms? Check.

Kalpalata Lotus? Check.

Padisara? Check.

Scarab fluid? Check.

“Do you find all of the necessary ingredients to be satisfactory enough?” An employee asks Tighnari as he counts the number of each ingredient separated into containers on top of the table.

“Yes, thank you very much.” He responds busily.

“I wish you the best in your endeavors. I will be off now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Tighnari nods his head as his pencil drags off carefully against the page of his little notebook, crossing small boxes listed between the grid lines. Work was constant and even more so now as he feels its amount in waves lately with the sudden new virus spreading around due to the withering zones. Fortunately, only a few were infected and it is not taking too much of a toll on his body—with him balancing the role of being a Forest Watcher and a sort of doctor on the side.

He sighs as he closes his notebook shut and sits down on the chair. He looks around him, wide dark emerald eyes admiring the abundance of greenery inside Pardis Dhyai and taking in the cluster of herbal and floral fragrances between each soft inhale.

He then glances at the clock.

3:29AM. Any minute now–

“Delivery for Tighnari!” A deep, gravelly voice enters the vicinity and Tighnari immediately stands up to respectfully bow to the delivery man.

“Ah, Arkan.” Tighnari greets the tall, burly man right in front of him politely. There is a bundle of purple hugged between Arkan’s arms and he eyes it promptly; expectantly; disposition still even despite the slight anticipating twitch of his ear. “I assume that is for me.”

“Ya got that right.” Arkan agrees gruffly, extending his arm out to hand him the bouquet of vibrant purple Forget-Me-Not flowers. “Your lover’s been quite consistent.”

“Perhaps ‘admirer’ would be a more suitable term. I still don’t know who they are.” Tighnari shakes his head before glancing down at the flowers now in his arms. Its petals are the shade of mustard yellow at the center, transitioning to vibrant purple as he eyes the petals down to its rounded tips. He wonders what is their motive behind all of this. How was he to fall for a person whose identity he had no slightest idea of? It was unreasonable to fall for a figment of his imagination—the mere idea built from expectations of who this person might be.

But still, he keeps the flowers close to him. It stays displayed inside his home, consistently being replaced every week upon each delivery. So far, he had received a total of four flower deliveries, all appearing to be freshly-picked and very healthy.

I’m keeping them because it would be a waste not to. Tighnari nodded to himself.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to think about it by yourself.” Arkan dips his head slightly for a temporary farewell. He would be seeing Tighnarini again soon, no doubt.

“Alright. Thank you for the delivery, Arkan.”

Tighnari sits down once again, placing the wrapped bouquet on his lap, supporting it with one arm. He counts the flowers and the snowy Gypsophila surrounding each small bundle of Forget-Me-Nots. He brings it up to his face, breathing in the floral fragrance before noticing a small piece of rectangular paper pasted onto the wrapping. His fingers gently move the flowers to read the text.

“What if you forget to forget-me-not and we fade away?”

A new piece added onto the puzzle of the admirer’s hidden painting. Clever. Forget-Me-Nots. Tighnari thinks back to the previous pieces of paper he had received along with the bouquets of flowers. So far, the compilation of all the notes reads:

“You can open up to me; show me what’s inside. Mother nature made us to intertwine.”

“Lavender elixir so full of pheromones, give me one taste and you’re gone.”

“What if I can’t get you out of my thoughts? What if my seasons don’t change?”

And today, “What if you forget to forget me not and we fade away?”

The admirer seems troubled today, Tighnari thinks, humming to himself in deep thought. Perhaps they liked him more than he had initially expected. He expected to be receiving about only two to three deliveries of such things, but it’s turning out to be more of a consistent thing now. Looking forward to Monday’s every time the clock strikes thirty minutes after the hour of three in the afternoon has become a sort of habit.

But he wonders: When would this end? When would he get to meet the individual who has been going through the effort to send these on a weekly basis?

Perhaps he must do a little bit of investigating for himself.

The next week comes slowly as the virus dies down significantly with Tighnari providing the patients with treatment. It has provided time for him to give some thought onto the next course of actions he might take to look for the admirer, and perhaps, the best person to ask first is the person consistently delivering the flowers.

Arkan comes marching to the front of Tighnari’s house at exactly 3:30PM, and he’s there to receive him just in time.

“Arkan, I have a question.” Tighnari began as he accepted the bouquet. Today’s flowers were a fresh bundle white Tropical Morning Glories wrapped in black paper. He fishes for the note stuck onto the wrapping paper behind the flowers and silently reads it.

“You’re my little flower blooming in the night.”

Blooming in the night... Morning Glories were also known as Moonflowers.

He purses his lip in thought as his ear unconsciously twitches. He scratches the back of his neck. Why are my ears warm? Perhaps it is hotter today than usual.

“What is it?”

He looks up from the bouquet and eyes Arkan curiously. “By any chance, do you know who’s sending these flowers?”

Arkan lets out a loud guffaw at his question, pressing his hands onto his abdomen. “I thought you’d never ask."

“It’s just that I was too busy to be pondering about that previously with the virus and all.” Tighnari places the flowers onto the ledge of his porch before crossing his arms. “So? Will you tell me who they might be?”

“No can do.” Arkan shakes his head.

He sighs. “As I suspected. Looking for them is not going to be as easy as that.”

“How ‘bout I give ya a hint?” Arkan places his hands on his hips, grinning down at him widely. “You know them.”

Tighnari squints his eyes.

He knows them.

He browses his memories for the list of people that he knew but it was turning out to be rather difficult when he was practically familiar with more than half of Gandharva Ville and many from Sumeru City. It cannot possibly be Collei; she is much too young and she has been quite close with a boy her age lately that lived near their home. Cyno was way too subpar with his linguistic skills to be able to construct mellifluous words such as these, and it is apparent with his dry jokes, thus it is unlikely to be him. Paimon and the Traveler on the other hand had long left the vicinity of Sumeru. And Alhaitham… Well, he’s Alhaitham. Could it be Kaveh?

“Do they live closeby?” Tighnari asks after a few moments of thinking.

“They live in a sort of paradise. Sort of like a garden, if you will. That’s all I gotta say.” Arkan laughs before saluting to him. “Welp, I’ll leave ya to it.”

So it’s not Kaveh, then. Thank goodness. Tighnari breathes out a sigh of relief before taking the flowers from the ledge once again. He must quickly put them in a vase.

Another week comes and Tighnari is finished trekking through the forest with Cyno after dealing with one of the few remaining Withering Zones left.

“So you have been receiving a bouquet of flowers every week.” Cyno summarizes after Tighnari explains the entirety of the situation. “I see.”

“Yes, so if it is not any trouble and if you aren’t busy with work, would you mind helping me investigate this matter?” Tighnari tilts his head, waiting for his friend’s response.

“I’m afraid that I must refuse.” Cyno answers, quickly pulling his eyes away to look up at the nearby trees.

“Hm? And why is that?” Tighnari crosses his arms. “You are looking suspicious right now, my friend. Don’t tell me that you’re actually the secret admirer?”

Cyno sends him an offended look, or at least, as offended as his typically-stoic face could look. “Do I appear to be the type who writes poetry? I must say that my jokes are quite great, but poetry on the other hand?”

“Yes, it is exactly as I thought. Except for the jokes part.” Tighnari nods, ignoring the second wave of offended expression that paints his friend’s face. “But why were you acting suspicious just now? Perhaps… you know who they are. You know who has been sending the flowers to me.”

Cyno shakes his head. “It’s not that I knew. I only figured it out when you told me about the flowers just now.”

“How?”

“Easy. I suggested the flowers, or rather, I told them you liked plants, and maybe, flowers.” Cyno explains before suddenly looking thoughtful. “But now that I think about it. The notes do sound like something they would do.” He hums thoughtfully. "Hm... they even went all the way to Sumeru City to ask about something like that."

“Well? Are you not going to tell me who it is?”

“No.”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his face in annoyance. This was becoming more frustrating with the way Arkan and Cyno were being so secretive.

Cyno pats his shoulder comfortingly. “You will find out who they are soon.”

“Why? Will they reveal themselves?”

“I do not know. But upon meeting them, it is only time before they slip up. They’re not as patient as you believe they are.”

“Yes, maybe…”

Tighnari receives three stems of Tulips today, tied together with a thin white ribbon that also holds a piece of paper along with it. His eyes squinted a little upon realizing that the texts today were a bit longer, and the handwriting was a bit messier.

Hm… Tulips…

“All I see are Tulips (you) and

I’m a hummingbird;

Heavenly ambrosia in every curve.

Honey dripping over my imagination;

The fragrance keeps flowing straight

down to my soul.”

He doesn’t hold back the warmth that spreads across his light-skinned cheeks and tips of his ears—or rather, he couldn’t. Whoever was writing him these notes and sending these flowers seemed to know just the precise words to make a person’s heart quiver. That, or this was simply born from the inexplicable feeling of adoration; one that Tighnari himself still doesn’t understand.

Perhaps, you would care to show him—to make him understand where all of these saccharine poems flow from inside you and onto paper.

He flips the paper around and is surprised to see an added note.

“I heard you were looking for me. Why don’t you come and find me, then?” He looks down further at the bottom of the page. “Here’s a hint: I live in paradise.”

Paradise? Tighnari squints rubs his chin at the familiar word. Where and when could he have last heard it?

Paradise… Ah! His eyes widen as he remembers his conversation with Arkan about two or three weeks before.

“They live in a sort of paradise. Sort of like a garden, if you will. That’s all I gotta say.” Arkan laughs before saluting to him. “Welp, I’ll leave ya to it.”

Paradise… Paradise— Pardis? Pardis Dhyai? If his suspicions were correct then… then the admirer was much closer than he had initially suspected. He had assumed that they lived in Sumeru City due to the weekly access to new and foreign flowers being delivered there frequently. This had caused him to forget about Pardis Dhyai completely—the actual grounds for producing an array of different plants and flowers.

He set the flowers into a vase filled with water and began preparing to clean up his things. Turns out that he had a trip to make towards Pardis Dhyai outside of work hours.

Tighnari arrives at the vicinity as the Sun had already set, leaving the shrounds of orange to be submerged underneath the dark blues littered with specs of white. Strange to him as it may be, but his heart is racing fast against his ribs as he takes rapid steps to enter the greenhouse. Perhaps it may be from all the running, or maybe it was the nerves swallowing his being, but one thing is for sure and that is the fact that his curiosity and the need to understand cannot deter him from finding out the one behind all these things.

He enters the greenhouse and the silence engulfs his ears aside from the crickets resounding from the distance. He steps forward, moving to the area where the flowers were born side by side, and there, he sees someone standing there, tending to the plants at this hour.

“You’re my little flower

Blooming in the night…”

His eyes widen as hears them sing softly as they hold the watering can over the vibrant leaves and petals.

“Only for an hour,

The northern lights.

My Casablanca sweetheart,

Nectar so divine.

Baby, you’re the best part

Of my life.”

“So it is you.” Tighnari’s voice cuts through the pause of their singing. He sees their shoulders jolt a little in surprise before they turn around slowly, sheepishly. It was you, the employee in Pardis Dhyai who guided him throughout each time he collected ingredients for new medicine.

“So you have found me.” Your smile is relaxed as you take a step towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shivers at the contact but doesn’t move away, causing you to chuckle. “Shall we have a chat?”

“W-What makes you say that I have the time? I could be here for some herbs.” He blurts out, a little out of character from his typical self.

You chuckle at his nervousness. “Well? What can I do to convince you to stay?”

[cheralith]

all i wanted — gojo satoru, ft. geto suguru

content warnings: gn!neutral, no pronouns or body parts mentioned, angst

he can't believe what he's seeing.

in the park's gazebo that sits near your apartment building, there you are. settled underneath its vines and ivy and the sunset looking overhead in the sky. a bundle of colorful flowers gathered in your arms with a large heart-shaped box of chocolates nestled underneath. there's a plethora of matching shaped balloons settled around the floor of it, all red and pink and white and shiny, resembling mirrors that shine your much too happy face that doesn't face him...

but another.

there you are, hiding your shy smile behind a hand and giggling at whatever suguru is murmuring as he pushes a lock of hair away from your flustered face. satoru fists his own bouquet of flowers he gathered last minute hidden behind him, evidently frustrated as he bites his lip so hard that it draws blood. his seem so weak and desolate compared to the larger than life bouquet suguru has given you; a bouquet that shows careful arranging and organizing of each flowers, not the flimsy, clustered flowers that satoru grabbed on his rushing way to see you to declare what he had been hesitating to say for the longest time.

his knuckles turn white and pulse with a fiery ache from how hard he was grasping his now-bent flowers, doing his best to shove down the thick lump in his throat as he sees suguru wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him as you accept his valentines proposal of "be mine?" written on a small, but intricate lunchbox cake decorated with colors that replicate the balloons. satoru doesn't miss the small bunch of boxes seated on the benches of the gazebo already unwrapped, the leaves of their wrappers nestled nicely on the ground—there's more presents than flowers in his bouquet, and satoru cannot feel anymore pathetic. his flowers can't compare to the intricate set-up suguru has created. he thinks its almost a mockery of sorts.

it's not fair, he thinks. you've been friends with satoru in the same length that you've been friends with suguru, and he's sure that both of them have harbored feelings in a time frame equivalent to each other, so why does suguru get first pick? he's the one that broke off from you, him, and shoko... he's the one that left you mysteriously in the dust those years ago... he's that ignored you on the first couple semesters of college up until a few months ago...

but satoru was there. why can't you acknowledge him in the way you acknowledge suguru? satoru was there every step of the way—his shoulder was the one you cried on. his arms were the one you ran to when you celebrated a good grade on a test. his presence was the one that comforted you in the bane of suguru's absence.

but here's the problem.

you did acknowledge him. you had actually acknowledged satoru's place in your life so much and valued it to a degree that you took the risk of perhaps making it more than just a mere long-term friendship. maybe it wasn't explicit, but it was implied enough to the point where it struck fear in satoru's heart.

and he ran away from it like the coward he was—terrified to his wits end that another suguru situation would happen again to him, in which his feelings already engrained so deep within him that if there's the slim chance that you'll leave him like suguru did, there'd be nothing but a deep and hollow pit in his heart. a relationship would just increase that chance—and he wasn't going to take any chances of that happening.

satoru thought he'd never fathom two large chunks of his heart being empty, yet here he is—facing what remains of his heart that belongs to you in the palm of the other person who owned the other half of it and tore it away all those years ago.

the ground feelings more dense, locking him in place and forcing him to watch the scene that unfolds before him.

if he was just a few mere hours faster, he knew that he could be in suguru's place is he was just stronger, if he was just willing to pay the small price for a potential forever with you. it was a severe last-minute decision, but he knew that's what he wanted, what he yearned for. what he even needed, perhaps.

yet, his hesitation has paid its dues.

your back is to him, thankfully. but suguru's eyes flicker up from your smiling face that he holds tenderly in his palms to share satoru's grief-stricken one. for a second, his face in unreadable to satoru, until a cruel smirk snakes on suguru's lips.

and, while never breaking eye contact with satoru, those same lips reach down and share a soft kiss with yours, your forever now being in suguru's hands that just barely pass his own.

the bouquet of frail flowers fall to the ground, yet no feeling returns to satoru's hand. only a cold wind of nothing grasps it back.