#sweet fic where they just are sweet together

[babysfirsthaze]

Pent up... (Ekko x reader)

Synopsis: you and Ekko have been caught up with responsibilities, haven't had a whole lot of time together. You get needy. He takes care of you.

Content: the most vanilla sex of your life, soft kissy missionary, fem!reader, p in v, unprotected, very light nipple sucking, established relationship. Not very proofread. Probably extremely out of character.

A/n: first fic ahhh idk..!!🥹 this is lowk so vanilla it's boring idk. Trying 2 ease myself into it. Please lmk if I made any mistakes, I did this instead of homework so I hope it's good smh</3 enjoy

Sex isn't that important to you.

Really, it's not.

Ekko's always had a higher libido than you, not that you don't wanna fuck him, it's just not really on your mind much. You're fine without it, as long as you get to hold him at night. But– fuck.

It's been almost two weeks. You've both been busy with responsibilities, leading the Firelights isn't easy, even with the weight on four shoulders. You find yourself looking at his body a little more than his face, getting distracted, thoughts wondering away to hot, steamy places, when you're supposed to be paying attention. It feels a little dirty, you've never been one to sexualise people. But you can't help it. He's hunched over a desk at the moment, shoulders tense and legs spread absent-mindedly.

Your mouth waters.

"Ekko," you start, the word soft, your fingers fidget with your top as you sit on your shared bed. He looks up, eyes curious and a bit tired. "Hm?" He sits up a bit and you bite your lip, unsure how to go about this, but you've never been a shy person.

"That work important?"

"..Not really," he hums, tilting his head, looking at you curiously. You open your mouth, close it again, trying to get your thoughts to shut up. Dick dick dick dick. Come on now, you're better than this, right? Surely you're better than this.

"I need somethin'," you mumble, thighs squirming together a little. "C'mere."

He does, and you look at the way his arms flex when he pushes himself off the desk, instead of his face. He frowns, bemused. That's new. Then you're tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer to you, and looking up at him with those big, sweet eyes. Shit. He starts to smile, standing over you where you sit on the bed. "Yeah? What's that?"

You tilt your face up at him, raising your eyebrows a bit. "Kiss me?" He grins, first instinct to tease you a bit, but then you tug at his shirt again, thighs pressed together and a sort of need in your eyes neither of you are used to. He doesn't have a lot of resolve, that man.

Your mouths connect, and he's smiling a bit, and he's got his hand rested on the side of your neck, and he smells good, and ohh, god. You sigh into his mouth, hand curling tighter around his shirt. The kiss is slow, filled with an affection and closeness. But the mood changes before long, and you tug him closer, the kisses becoming hungry, heavy and hot.

Ekko leans further over you, scooting you back a bit so you're more on the middle of the bed. He knows what you want. The two of you don't have much free time these days, and yeah, teasing is fun, he'd love to work you up, make you wait, but – it's late. So he's climbing over you, movements slow, the kiss unbroken.

You trail a hand down his waist, tugging at his shirt. "Missed you," you hum into his mouth, and he sighs, enjoying the hands on his skin. He kisses a line down your jaw, mouthing onto your neck. "Yeah?" He sucks and gnaws gently on your pulse point, making you whine. "Been neglectin' you, huh? Sorry, baby."

You forgive him.

You tug at his shirt again, and he gives in, helping you tug it off to reveal his toned, heavy body. He takes yours off in kind, careful hands unclasping and slipping off your bra. Then his mouth is back on your neck, kissing down your chest, before latching around your nipple, brown eyes closed as his mouth works at you, making you sign and moan.

"Pretty girl," he murmurs, and he comes back up to look at you. His hands trail over your body, gentle but hungry. You hook your arms over his shoulders, chewing on your lip, eyes all hazy, full of need. Your mouths connect again and he groans, right hand creeping under your waistband. You whine, bucking your hips up eagerly, needing his touch.

"Please," you sigh, and he doesn't deny you, dipping two fingers down into your panties. You're already wet, and he grins. Running his fingertips gently over your clit, squeezing the small nub gently between them, like he knows you like. "I got you, baby," he mumbles, his voice all breathy, and you can feel him straining against his pants, his hips brushing against your thigh thanks to the position you're in.

You mewl, squirming under him. You really have been needing this, shit, your clit twitches, and you bite your lip.

"Don't tease me," you mumble, your voice a little strained. It feels good. But you want more, you wanna get off, you want him to fuck you. "Please, just fuck me." He chuckles, cooing softly at you, his fingers dipping down, teasing at your hole. You whine, and he swallows it eagerly into his mouth. "Sorry, baby. 'M gonna fuck ya."

You'd both need more foreplay than that, on a different day. But it has been a while, and you look so pretty, and he tugs his hand out of your panties, sitting up a bit. Then he's pulling your pants off, hands gentle, careful, and he groans, eyes trailing over your pussy.

"So pretty," Ekko says again, almost to himself. He runs a soothing hand over your thighs, watching hungrily as your arousal drips down your folds. Shit. He reaches for his belt buckle, pushing his pants down efficiently, he's just as worked up as you are. His boxers are on the floor and by God that dick.

He's hard, pre leaking out of his sensitive slit.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his hand wrapping around his shaft, and he thumbs at his tip. Just looking at you. He thinks you're so pretty, could look at you for hours. But there's more important things to do.

He kneels back down on the mattress, tugging your knees apart and settling between them. He spits lightly on his hand, spreading it down his length, using it like a lube as he pumps himself slowly, other hand pressing against your clit. This draws a soft whine out of you and he smiles, chewing on his lip.

He shifts, leaning forward to stroke his tip over your clit, teasing it. "Shit," he grunts, and he grabs your hand, holding it against the mattress as he enjoys the feeling, brow furrowing slightly. "Fuck, Ekko," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"Shhh, baby, I got you," he mumbles, pushing his tip inside you, before pulling it out again with a soft pop. Then he starts to fuck you. Slow, gentle strokes, filling you up all nice, shifting and hoisting your knees till he hits that good angle, the one that makes your mouth fall open and your eyes go fuzzy. "Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He cooes, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He nudges against that spot inside you, groaning softly and pressing a thumb to apply gentle pressure to your clit. It's been too long, both your heads are going hazy, and he just wants to make you feel good, to feel good in turn. "Shit, I missed this fuckin' pussy."

You moan, and he shushes you with a kiss, squeezing your hand. "People are trying to sleep." You can't find it in you to care, not when you're finally getting the dick you've been craving for days, but you feel compelled to listen to Ekko, so you keep quiet. Just sigh into his mouth, whining softly and allowing your hands to trail up and down his back.

The pace is slow, gentle and full of affection. Just rocking into that warm, gooey spot inside you, he's only a couple inches deep, but he doesn't mind. Ekko kisses you, sighing sweet nothings into your mouth and right down to your tummy. His thumb still working at your clit, just rocking back and forth on top of it, in time with his hips, sandwiching your most sensitive parts between your favourite boy and turning your brain into mush.

It doesn't take much, to push you over the edge. God knows you've waited long enough. A few careful, practiced touches, whispered praise and reassurances, and sure enough that feeling is bubbling into your tummy, spilling over when he starts to rub little circles on your clit. You cum holding your breath to keep quiet, face twisted up in pleasure as Ekko fucks you through it. So pretty.

"Good girl, good girl...bet that feels good, huh? This what you wanted? Sweet girl just needed a fuck, yeah, I know, I know..."

Then he's pulling out, still touching you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuts with a groan, pumping himself to the same pace, warm cum shooting out of him, onto your tummy. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, placing small kisses to the skin there.

You just lay there for a moment, both needing a second to recover, get your bearings again. Not the most intense orgasms of your lives but exactly what you needed. He nuzzles into you, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"Round two?"

Published on 12/2/15 by babysfirsthaze on tumblr

[sashaisready]

Valentine's Disaster

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky is determined to give you the Valentine's Day he believes you secretly want, it's the least you deserve. Unfortunately, things don't go quite to plan...

This is a sweet little fic I've been working on for Valentine's Day, hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Happy V-Day to you all in this lovely community! ❤️

One shot / allusion to smut but nothing explicit / Bucky is trying, ok?!

Wordcount: 2.6k

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February 12th

He hasn’t ‘done’ Valentine’s Day in the best part of a century, and back in the days when he did, it was a handwritten card and a box of candy for the girl you liked. Simple, sweet. An excuse to go dancing and make-out.

But now? The shops are awash with pink and red, large hanging signs in the aisles are practically screaming at him ‘not to forget!’

And how could anyone forget? It’s a full-on assault of the senses. Enjoy this Valentine’s limited-edition doughnut! Buy those matching heart-print pyjamas for you and your valentine! Buy perfume! Flowers! Teddy bears the size of toddlers! Enough chocolate to take down an elephant! Take a couples’ trip, book a romantic spa day, spend a rent payment on roses! He’s seen cards meant for pets, cards from pets. As if Alpine would ever entertain such nonsense, even if she could read. Every time he runs errands, he feels like his brain might fall out. 

Thankfully, home is an oasis of calm. He sits on the couch half-watching some documentary while your head lays in his lap, scrolling idly on your phone. Alpine is curled up across your legs, occasionally purring in her blissful sleep as you give her a head an absent-minded scratch. 

He runs his metal fingers through your hair without even noticing he’s doing it – muscle memory at this point, basking in the comfortable silence - a private sanctuary from the outside world. The world he still doesn’t fully understand. The man out of time.

But you, you he understands. It all moved quickly, sure. But when you know you know, don’t they say? He sees that now. He saw that on your first date. Watching you laugh, your eyes sparkling - he was sorry that he zoned out while you told him that funny anecdote, but he just couldn’t stop looking at you.

He knew he was in trouble. 

First date. First kiss. More dates. Inseparable, easy. Like visiting somewhere new for the first time but somehow knowing exactly where to go. Maybe moving in together after six months had been hasty, sure. But it just felt right. 

No logic, just a feeling. He’d wasted so much time, so much life - why waste even more? ‘You’re here all the time, anyway, why not just make it official?’ Yes. Yes, you’d love to. Your clothes moved into his closet as smoothly as you’d moved into his life. It was as if you’d always been there. Kitchen dances and late-night chats. New recipes, old sweatshirts. Gymnastics in the bedroom. One failed attempt at a shared bubble bath that had gone so badly wrong you’d both laughed until big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks. Misjudging just how much room he took up, easily done. So much for romance, you had joked. 

But it was romance for him. 

And what about for you? 

You hadn’t been together for a Valentine’s Day yet. Sure, he’d bought flowers and cooked for you before. You had shyly thanked him and kissed his cheek. But you didn’t need big gestures, you’d told him. Didn’t care about giant teddy bears or rose petal trails. ‘Make me a good cup of coffee, fix the leaky sink and keep the oil in my car topped up and I’ll be happy’ you’d said. Well, he could do all that. And he did. He took care of you and your home. You’d told him once that his love language for you was acts of service, which meant he liked doing things for you – practical help. Fixing, bringing, making. He didn’t know about all that, but he knew he would always look after you. He wasn’t always the best at words and romance, but his actions spoke for him when he didn’t know how to say it.

He’d bought you a card. A silly one. One to make you laugh, about pancakes. Not one of the vulgar ones, some of the sentiments he’d seen printed made him wrinkle his nose. He was no prude, but his Ma would’ve turned in her grave at some of them. Not everything needed to be an innuendo. He’d already written a note inside it. A little sappy, but he meant every word. He’d also planned to pick up a bouquet of pretty flowers, maybe take you to lunch out at your favourite coffee shop. 

But now he glances down and sees what you’re looking at on your phone. You’re scrolling that photograph app, the Instagram one. It’s not for him but he doesn’t mind. It’s cute when you post a picture of your coffee on there, even if he teases you for it. 

You must be on a Valentine’s trend. Trend, is that what they call it? Hashtag? He watches you flick through endless pictures and videos…rose petals scattered on immaculate bedspreads, champagne glasses posed perfectly against a sunset backdrop, endless hauls of flowers and chocolate, balloons stretched to spell out names. Perfectly put together young women posing coyly and peering through their lashes, showing off diamonds and designer handbags...

…is this what you really wanted? You’d never said…but you were looking at those pictures so intently…

Had he really got it so wrong?

His heart sank as he imagined your disappointment. A jokey card? Lunch at the same old place you always went? Is that all he’d done for you on this apparent big day?

Maybe the stores were right.

You wouldn’t say anything, of course. You’re too sweet for that. Too empathetic, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. But he pictured the dismay in your eyes at his meagre offering and felt a physical ache in his chest. He’d never want to disappoint you, to let you down. 

He slowly got up from the couch, carefully cradling your head to put you back down onto the cushions as he slipped away.

“Just starting dinner, doll,” he muttered as he headed to the door. 

“Okay baby,” you replied distractedly - your eyes still on your phone. Alpine miaowed in protest at the sudden change in movements. You scoffed at the latest image, a hotel room decorated ceiling to carpet with helium balloons and ribbons - practically fit to burst. “What a waste of plastic,” you exclaimed to yourself. “Who really needs all of this? What a joke…”

“What did you say?” Bucky called from the kitchen. 

“Nothing important,” you called back as you shifted Alpine and got to your feet, flinging your phone back onto the couch. That was quite enough hate scrolling for one evening.

“Buck, I’m coming to help”. 

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

February 14th

“Fuck!” he muttered to himself as yet another balloon popped. He kept overstuffing them, underestimating how much air his lungs could hold as he blew them up. Super soldier problems. 

He sighed and gathered the few intact balloons, spreading them around the living room. There weren’t as many as he’d have liked, but they would do. 

Next, he eyed the banner, sagging down at the corners after his ill-fated attempt to hang it. He thought a hand-made banner was a bit much, but Sam had insisted it would tie everything together. DIY decorations show you’ve made the effort, he’d said.

He squinted up at the carefully drawn letters, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. The paint was a little uneven, and he cursed himself for not being better at crafting. The smattering of glitter in his hair was further proof of that. But it was up there, at least.

Sam had better know what he’s talking about.

You were due home from work any moment, he’d spent the last few hours rushing around trying to give you the Valentine’s Day you apparently secretly wanted. Dinner was nearly done, rose petals had been sprinkled from the hallway to the living room, champagne chilled, and the largest teddy bear he could find sat staring at him from your favourite armchair. 

He frowned; it all seemed a bit much. But he reminded himself he was doing it for you. He’d do anything for you. He’d walk through fire if he had to, swim an ocean. He could handle a few balloons and a fancy dinner if it made you happy.

Speaking of dinner…what was that smell?

Oh…fu-

He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a dish rag, fanning the smoke away as he cursed and popped a window. He flung the oven door open and pulled out the now charred dish with his vibranium hand. He cursed more, cursed louder, slamming the dish onto the stove top as he tried to figure out what the hell had gone so wrong. After all, he’d followed the recipe to the letter…

He looked at the oven and quickly saw his mistake - he must’ve knocked the temperature dial somehow as it was turned significantly higher than it should’ve been. Great. No wonder everything was burnt to a crisp. He angrily switched it off and stared at the mess he’d made. What the hell was he going to do when you got-

“Babe, I’m home- happy Valentine’s Day! Wait, what the-?” Came your voice from the hallway as the front door opened.

Fuck.

“Buck, what’s going on - did something burn? Are those rose petals?”

He sheepishly moved into the hallway. You lit up as you saw him, smiling as you took off your coat. “Hey you, what’s going on in here?”

“I tried to make you dinner,” he sighed. “Didn’t go to plan, I’m sorry…”

You smiled warmly and moved to him, kissing him sweetly as you brushed your hands over his chest. “Oh Buck. That’s okay. Thank you…that’s very sweet of you. Don’t be upset, it happens - we can order in”.

Your reaction simultaneously filled him with relief but also a sense of self-loathing. He’d messed it up already, he’d let you down. You looked relaxed, but he wondered if you were secretly disappointed.

“What is all this?” you giggled as you followed the petals. “Don’t tell me you did all of this for me…”

As the trail guided you into the living room, you gasped at the scene in front of you. Your heart nearly burst at the effort he’d put into all of this. “Oh, Buck! It’s…”

But before you could finish your sentence, disaster ensued.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and all at once. The banner collapsed suddenly, curling at the edges before crumpling to the ground with a quiet thunk – somehow taking out the champagne flutes along with it, knocking them to the floor and shattering them. Almost simultaneously, another balloon popped – causing you both to jump.

And the absolute cherry on the cake?

Alpine, who had been carefully studying the giant teddy bear in the armchair the whole time, leapt up on top of it…

…and began humping it.

“Oh. Oh my god…” you whispered.

“Oh, my god,” Bucky echoed with horror. “Alpine, stop that!”

His chest ached, shame washed over him as he looked at the failure of a Valentine’s Day in ruins around him. He couldn’t give you the day you’d really wanted, the day you deserved. He turned to you, preparing himself to have his heart broken by your disappointed face.

Except…

…you were laughing.

You were shaking silently, your hand over your mouth as you tried to restrain yourself. But you were clearly laughing. You looked back at him guiltily.

“I’m so sorry Buck,” you whispered, your voice strained, “I know you worked so hard on all of this…I promise I’m not laughing at you…”

He glanced around the room at the warzone of his living room – the broken glass, the buckled banner, the remnants of pink balloon rubber, the smell of burning in the air, Alpine’s shameless amorous activity…

It started as a tickle in his throat, a twitch of his lips – and then a hesitant chuckle escaped. And then another. And then both of you were gone, laughing uproariously as you leaned on each other for support. Bent over, hands on knees, desperately trying to regain some sense of composure as hysteria reigned. Loud, hearty laughter filling the room – becoming high squeaks as you both tried to catch your breath.

Alpine, unimpressed by this egregious interruption, finally stopped her assault and left the room indignantly.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed breathily as your thumb wiped a tear from your lash line. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m grateful, really, I am – this was so sweet of you. I’m sorry it didn’t go to plan; I know you must’ve worked really hard on it…”

“It’s okay,” he replied as he took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not great at this stuff. But look,” his tone shifted to something more serious as he took you by the shoulders and held you close, “I’m sorry I fucked it up. I know you wanted the whole Instagram Valentine’s thing…”

You cock an eyebrow in confusion, “what? Says who?”

“I saw you,” he admits sheepishly. “Looking at all the Valentine’s stuff on your phone. I know you wouldn’t say anything, but I was trying to surprise you. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

You sigh as realisation hits you, taking his hands in yours as you rub your thumbs soothingly over his knuckles. “Baby…I didn’t want that stuff, I was just hate-scrolling. That’s not me, you know I don’t really care about all that junk…”

His eyes widen. “You don’t?”

“No! It’s all performative, it doesn’t really mean anything. I just wanna be with you…I’d have been happy with just a card…”

As if on cue you notice the little envelope on the side table with your name on it. You pick it up and open it.

“Oh, it’s dumb…” Bucky shrugs. “It’s just because we always make breakfast together…”

You giggle at the cute image on the front of the card and flick it open to read.

Doll,

Getting to make pancakes with you in our apartment is honestly a life that didn’t seem possible until recently. Thank-you for showing me what love is.

Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s to the first of many.

All my love,

Bucky x

You smile, the tears forming in your eyes as you clutch it to your chest like it’s your prized possession.

“Thank-you, it’s perfect,” you tell him softly as you pull him closer.

The two of you hold each other for a moment, then move in for a saccharine kiss. You press your foreheads together and stand there like that for a while, basking in the warmth of each other – serene in the stronghold of your home, despite the Valentine’s debris around you. Bucky feels relief that he didn’t let you down, finally at ease again.

You look around the room with your hands on your hips, your expression thoughtful as Bucky recognises your ‘action mode’.

“Okay, well I’ll go get your card…and you clean up that glass so Alpine doesn’t walk in it…and then rather than order in - how about we cook something else for dinner?” you tell him softly as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah? What you thinking?” he grins.

“Pancakes”.

“Perfect,” he nods, then his hand glides down your lower back as his voice drops. “And maybe later I can make it up to you in the bedroom…”

“Well, you don’t need to make anything up to me…but I wouldn’t say no to an offer like that…” You flirt as you bite your lower lip. His hand travels lower…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll”.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck”.

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[ofstarsandvibranium]

And Action!

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Movie Star!Bucky x Journalist!Reader fic.

Summary: The chemistry between you, a journalist, and Bucky, a movie star, is undeniable. After dancing around each other for the past year, Bucky’s ready for the game to end.

“Y/N!” your break out into a wide grin as Bucky exclaims your name. He approaches you with a big smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

You’ve been waiting with the other journalists along the red carpet, chatting with the cast and crew of the new movie The Queen’s Shadow.

The main stars are Yelena Belova and Bucky Barnes. You’d just finished interviewing Yelena and now Bucky is headed your way.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s good to see you again!”

He chuckles, “You as well and,” he turns to his assistant and accepts the thermos, “Hot chocolate like I promised.”

You can’t help but cackle, “I was hoping you’d remember.”

He shrugs, a grin on his lips, “Of course. I promised you, didn’t I?”

You take a moment to open the thermos and take a little sip of the beverage. Your body instantly warms from the hot drink but as well as the sweet comforting taste of the chocolate, “You were right. You make a mean hot chocolate.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Bucky responds with a chuckle.

You then set the thermos to the side, “Okay. So congrats on the movie. Everyone’s prayers have been answered because you’ve finally gone back to your roots being in rom-coms. How does it feel?”

“So fun. Don’t get me wrong. The action movies I’ve done recently are fun too, but rom-coms are a different kind of fun. I can be a little goofy, be a complete dork while also be charming-“

“Basically be more of yourself?” You ask with a smirk.

He snorts, “Yes! Basically! And to work alongside Yelena, who’s, ya know, one of my best friend’s sister, was really a treat because this is her big debut. I was able to watch and guide her. Even though sometimes we’d get into arguments here and there because we’re like siblings. But yeah, it was fun.”

“Was it a little weird to play love interests since you two are like siblings?”

“At first, yeah. But we discussed it and, ya know, this is our job as actors. Whatever our personal relationship is, it doesn’t matter when we’re on set. We’ve got a job to do so we went and did it.”

“Did Nat threaten you at all when she heard you and Yelena would be working with each other?”

Bucky scoffs, “Of course, Nat did. But I get it. She’s just protective of her sister. I’m like that with my sister so I can’t fault her for that.”

You nod in understanding. You always enjoyed talking with Bucky because conversations with him were so easy and he was always so passionate about the projects he’s worked on.

“Alright, now for the hard hitting question.”

Bucky nods and rubs his hands together, “Okay, watcha got for me?”

You take a deep breath and lean closer, “Who would win in a fight: Mason Rhodes or Jayce Ryder?” Mason Rhodes is his character in The Queen’s Shadow and Jayce Ryder is his character in his previous action movie franchise.

Bucky chuckles, “Oh that’s a hard one…probably Mason.”

“Really?” You ask him in surprise.

He shrugs, “Well not to spoil too much, Mason was trained to fight and know how to protect the Queen. Jayce, while he does know how to fight, he’s self-trained and a little sloppy. Kinda fights more with his heart while Mason fights with his brain, you know?”

You nod, “Makes sense!” You see Bucky’s assistant pull on his sleeve to let him know he needs to move on, “Well, I’ll let you continue down the line. It was great speaking with you! And thanks again for the hot chocolate!”

“Of course! It was great seeing you. See you next time!” He gives you a wink and a wave and follows where his publicist guides him next.

—————-

Not many journalists are invited to after parties. However, your friend, Joaquin, a PA who worked on the film, invited you as his plus one.

You’re chatting with him by the hors d’oeuvres table when Bucky approaches, “Hi,” he’s a little more shy this time. He turns to Joaquin, giving him a nod, “Torres.”

“Bucky,” Joaquin says with a big smile, “Movie was great, man!”

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, it-it was fun.” Bucky looks back at you, “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, “Your performance was great, but I enjoyed Yelena’s a little bit more.”

He chuckles, “I understand. She was amazing.”

“Oh! I see Sam. I’ll be right back!” Joaquin excused himself to talk to the other actor.

Bucky clears his throat, “So, uh, you drink all the hot chocolate?”

You shake your head, “It’s in my car. Saving the rest for later. But did you really come here to talk to me about hot chocolate, Bucky?” You ask with a smirk.

You and Bucky have been dancing around each other for the past year. You’ve worked with him a lot over the last few years but it wasn’t until recently that your interviews with him started getting a little more playful and flirty.

Sometimes it was you that really upped the playful, flirty vibes. Other times, it was Bucky. Neither of you were put off by it. It was all in good fun and definitely gave Bucky a lot of publicity.

“Not really. I actually wanted to ask if you were tired.”

Your brows furrow and your head tilts to side in confusion, “Tired?”

“Of this game we’ve been doing lately?” That shy demeanor is replaced with that teasing, playfulness you’ve encountered before.

“I don’t know, Barnes. Are you?”

“I am.”

“So,” you step closer to him, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Bucky glances at your lips and then licks his own, “Well, I was thinking we can finally exchange numbers and I take you on a date.”

“That right? Where do you plan to take me?”

“I have a place in mind.”

You pout, “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“You’ll find out if you say yes.”

You sigh, “You really wanna date me? I’m a journalist. I could spill all your dirty secrets.”

He cocks a brow at you, “That what you plan to do?”

You scoff, “Fuck no. I’d never.”

“And that’s why I wanna date you, among other things.”

“Tell me,” you step even closer to him.

He smirks, “I will,” he leans in, lips hovering over yours, “on our date.”

He steps back and you realize your phone is now in his hands, “Hey!” You exclaim with a laugh, and he laughs with you.

“I may have learned a thing or two from my action movies,” he hands you your phone so you can unlock it. You hand it back to him when you do and he inputs his number.

He hands you his own phone and you enter in your number.

“I’ll be busy this week for premiere stuff but afterwards, I have some down time before I start my next project. I’ll call you when I’m free to hash out the details?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Perfect. I gotta continue making my rounds, but enjoy the rest of your night,” he leaves you again with another wink and a fluttering in your chest.

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 1

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey

Author's Note: I was hesitant to cross-post first but after some thinking, maybe I should.

Enjoy!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4

1: My Dearest, Oblivious

The odd little crow came by again.

It was around afternoon when the crow landed on its usual perch on the open window of the studio where you are working and as usual, it carried with it little gifts.

Usually, it brings you beautiful flowers.

Sometimes, it brings you gemstones and ores.

It is such a sweet bird.

You don't know what to call the odd little crow so you just named it 'Daisy' and you even made a little ribbon that you tied around its neck with its name embroidered in it, not too heavy so it can still fly.

Just a little good luck charm.

Daisy only left when it gave you its recent gift on the palm of your hand and after you gave it a quick kiss on its head, you bid it goodbye, telling it to not do anything rash since the little thing is flying around the N109 zone. You can only assume it most likely has a nest around here as well.

Daisy is not the only one who showers you with gifts.

The first patron of this tailor shop, Mr. Sylus, also sends you gifts. He became one of your regular clients as well and you have sewn everything he requested, from suits to casual attires, each piece you worked on diligently.

Every finished work, he sends over a gift. Hairpins, vinyl records, and even tickets once to an opera for you and your father.

The bright red gemstone Daisy brought you cast a myriad of light as you held it up against the sunlight pouring inside your little studio together with the intricate stones that decorated the hairpin you are wearing right now.

You always wondered where the little crow finds such trinkets.

"You should take a break, sweetie."

The unfamiliar voice immediately made you put the little gift that Daisy has brought to you inside your apron pocket, your thoughts cut short.

"Oh, are you lost?", you asked, turning to face your surprise visitor, tucking your hair behind your ear. "The fitting room is just straight ahead, sir."

Every now and then, you get a glimpse of the shop's clients, almost all intimidating like this person before you. He is as imposing as the other men and women your father talks to, being the face of the business side of this humble tailor shop. Your eyes traced the dragon horns on top of his head and his tail while he leaned against the door frame, his crimson gaze trained towards you.

Back then, every fiber of your being will tell you to run, run as fast as you could away from a hybrid like him yet here you are, treating him like you are of the same kind.

"Lost? No, sweetheart. I never get lost," he replied, pushing himself off the door frame.

Sylus had always been meaning to finally visit you himself after Mephisto returned with a ribbon around his neck, bearing a different name.

And it was hilarious how Mephisto seemed to wear your gift and his ‘new name’ with pride.

The door behind Sylus closed with a soft click and it only took him a few strides to stand beside you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor and his tail swishing lazily while he studied your little studio. The space was lit by a few windows and the lights of the room cast a warm and cozy glow on the various fabrics and sewing materials scattered on every available surface.

In the midst of it all, is you, an unassuming deer hybrid, your deer ears twitching slightly while you studied him. A small smirk found its way on his face when he noticed the stray threads had found their way around your antlers and his eyes lingered on your neck for a moment.

You’re even adorable up close.

“I am well-aware of where the fitting room is,” he continued, his gaze steady, “But I think I'll stay here a bit longer, if you don't mind.”

“Oh, please make yourself comfortable,” you replied, casting him a small glance before you continue working on sewing together the fabric for Mr. Sylus' suit jacket.

You assume this man is either a client or maybe one of the clients brought him along, knowing that usually all of your customers bring an entourage of their security and sometimes, their guards manage to find their way here in your little studio where you work.

They tell you stories every now and then, ask you about your work, but mostly they content themselves observing while they wait for their bosses to wrap up their business with your father.

“What are you working on, sweetie?”

“A suit.”

“A suit, huh? And who is the client?”

“Mr. Sylus,” you answered, almost carefree, your hands tracing the intricate design you have embroidered in it.

There was a brief frown that crossed his face.

You don’t recognize him.

Sylus had always suspected that you don’t know the face of the man that you’ve been tailoring for all these months. Do you even know what kind of man he is? Or does your beloved father keep you in the dark, letting you stay here in your own world?

A selfish part in him secretly relished it-

-That you didn’t gaze at him like the monster he is.

He leaned against your work table beside you, taking a moment to admire the meticulous and detailed stitches of your work. How your delicate hands moved with such precision and dexterity, the needle an extension of your own body.

But he just had to test waters a bit, see how far he could go in this charade.

“You’re his personal tailor, sweetie?”, he asked, feigning innocence.

“Mr. Sylus said I am,” you nodded, putting together the fabric of the sleeves with pins before you run it in the sewing machine.

Most of your works during your first months of living here in the N109 zone are mostly requests from Mr. Sylus and then from there, the business skyrocketed. Your father said it was your talent but you also believe it was his business acumen that made it stable.

You wouldn’t be here without your father looking after you.

“And is he a good client to you?”, Sylus continued to inquire, crossing his arms while he observed your practiced movements, the way your hands held the fabric with such grace.

He wanted to know. Wanted to hear what you actually think of him.

“He always sends me gifts.”

He watched you tuck your hair behind your ear again, the light from the desk lamp catching the glimmer of the hairpin he has gifted you. It is quite satisfying, being here in person and seeing you wear one of his many gifts to you.

“Gifts, you say?”, he asked, leaning a bit closer, pretending to study your hairpin. "Such as..”, his eyes flicked down to the accessory, “This little thing here, sweetie?”

“It was one of his first gifts,” you nodded.

“His first gift,” he drawled, his lips curling into a smirk, “You do know that he’s a very dangerous man, don’t you, miss seamstress?”

You paused from your work.

People talk so much in the N109 zone and they seem more lax when they enter the shop, laying out all kinds of rumors. One of the main subjects of these rumors is Mr. Sylus, of course. The common theme across all rumors about him is that he is a very dangerous man but other than that, it is very difficult to get a better picture of who he is.

People claim he is quite cordial, as long as you fulfill your side of the bargain. Others disagree, saying that he is a man that takes without remorse.

Every rumor seemed to contradict each other so you simply stopped trying to make sense of them.

“Do you think he is, Mr.-?”, you tilted your head at him, unsure of what to call him.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Sylus said, his tone slightly playful, “I haven't introduced myself, have I, sweetie? I'm Skye.”

He took another step closer, his broad frame now towering over your petite figure, "And to answer your question, yes, he's a dangerous man. But shouldn't you know that already, little doe?"

“But what makes you say that?”, you asked, your brows slightly furrowed and he had to resist the urge to run his fingers on the fur of your deer ears drooping slightly, “Do you work for Mr. Sylus?”

In your eyes, Mr. Sylus is a generous man. Maybe a little shy because you never understood why he never hands you his gifts himself.

Oh, sweetheart.

You really are oblivious to the true nature of the man who wears your clothes and showers you with gifts in return, aren't you?

Sylus chuckled, his tail swishing lazily behind him while he watched you try to piece everything together. You are so gentle, tucked away in this corner of the N109 zone, in this little grove not so far from the den of all beasts, and the most formidable beast of them all is right here, standing right in front of you.

Yet you don’t even flinch. Why is that?

“You could say that, sweetie.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

“Sure, something like that.”

Your gaze shifted from him to the door behind his back. If this man is here, surely, Mr. Sylus is also here as well.

You can actually finally see your first client, the person who gave your father capital to start this shop and-

-you can thank him for all of the gifts.

Before you even had a chance to take a step towards the door, Sylus quickly reached out and grabbed you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him. His tail swished in front of you, blocking your path.

He held you firmly against his front, feeling your small frame press against him as he kept you in place. He could feel the subtle shift in your demeanor and he silently wonders why you are so excited to meet the man behind all the gifts even when he already told you ‘Mr. Sylus’ is a dangerous man.

“Ah ah ah, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice a low, rough murmur. “Where do you think you're going?”

"Mr. Sylus should be in the fitting room since you are here," you replied, trying to pry his grip from you but his hold further tightened instead.

Oh, how amusing you are with that little cute pout on your face.

“Is that why you were so eager to go? To finally see the man behind all the gifts?”, he whispered in your ear, the fur of your deer ear grazing the tip of his nose slightly as it twitched.

“Please let go,” you insisted, still trying to wriggle free from his hold and you slightly tensed up when you felt his tail wrapped around your ankle, the cool, smooth scales making contact with your skin.

“No can do, sweetheart. You're not going anywhere just yet,” he grinned, his voice rough and playful, “And there's no one in the fitting room, sweetie. It's empty.”

"Mr. Sylus.. isn't here?", you asked, confused and slightly disappointed while you paused from trying to pry his fingers off of you.

Technically, he is here. You just think he is someone else.

“No, little doe, I’m afraid he is not,” he answered, his breath warm against your skin.

Sylus watched your hands fall to your sides while your deer ears drooped, feeling the disappointment radiate off of you as you realized your beloved client isn’t present and he slightly frowned at the sight.

Now, he can’t have his favorite tailor all sad.

“What’s this?”, you asked, your eyes moving towards the small and rectangular box handed right in front of you.

“It’s a present, sweetie,” Sylus answered and a small smirk graced his features, “From Mr. Sylus.”

Honestly, he never thought there would be a day he would refer to himself as another person but here he is.

His fingers lingered on your skin for a moment when he gently placed the gift on your hands before crossing his arms, watching you open the cover.

It was then Sylus knew he had to come here just to see that expression you made over and over again.

Your face lit up with joy, an adorable smile spreading across your face as your eyes traced the shape of the newest hairpin he had commissioned from an artisan. Your deer ears perked up in excitement and delight at your newest treasure.

It was all so precious.

“Mr. Sylus sent you here to give me his gifts?”, you asked, slightly giddy as you shift back and forth.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he confirmed, nodding his head slightly, “Mr. Sylus had some things for you and asked me to deliver them.”

“Can you tell him-”

You bite your bottom lip, stopping yourself before the favor you want to ask spilled from your mouth. It feels odd asking one of Mr. Sylus’ men to carry a message for you on your behalf and you don't want it to look like you had a crush on the man whose face you haven't seen.

And you heard he is very old.

You just want to say thank you. That you are very grateful for his generosity to you and your father.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Sylus said, motioning for you to continue, “You can tell me, I'll pass it along.”

“Can you tell him that I love it?”, you asked, holding the box close to your chest.

He gazed at you fondly and for a moment, his smirk was replaced by a small smile upon hearing your request.

Earnest.

Innocent.

There are so many words he can describe you when you hear your sweet voice laced with gratitude.

“Of course, sweetie,” he replied softly, “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

You don’t see the real him as a monster.

“And can you tell him..”, you spoke slowly, hiding your face with the box to cover the faint blush on your cheeks, “Can you tell him he doesn’t have to send gifts? I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity since he already pays us so much.”

“You're not taking advantage of anything, sweetheart,” Sylus replied, shaking his head slightly at the thought of not sending you gifts anymore, “Gifts are meant to be given and shared, or else they're useless, right?”

Perhaps Mr. Sylus’ messenger is right and you are simply not used to being showered with gifts not just by him but by your other clients who clearly appreciate your works. It is certainly odd that you have received more acknowledgement and praise in this place compared to where your father and you used to live.

Sylus smiled when he heard you softly murmur “You’re right” as you nodded slowly. He wanted to keep talking to you, to watch you work but he took a quick glance at his watch and he knew he had to cut this visit short.

He still had a few matters to attend to.

“Duty calls, sweetie,” he said, pushing himself off your desk and straightening his clothes.

His hand rested on the handle of the door and he turned briefly to you before he stepped out. He took in your form, your petite frame, your hairpin, and the bouquet of flowers he gave to you last week on the vase by the window, slightly wilted.

He will have to bring you fresh ones next time. Personally.

“Until then, little seamstress.”

“Until then, Skye.”

────────────────────

Mephisto is not an ordinary crow.

Sylus had created the mechanical crow from scratch. His feathered companion is programmed for intelligence gathering and had followed every task he assigned to it to the letter from watching over any of his business associates and his men to recently, bringing you gifts.

Initially, Sylus will send Mephisto every now and then, letting it carry little trinkets he thinks will brighten up your day but lately, the crow is doing it to his own accord, going as far as pilfering anything it thinks you will like from his various collections. Not that he minds.

“Still wearing your gift, I see,” Sylus commented, his eyes landing on the crow sitting on his perch inside his office.

His fingers brushed the length of the white ribbon tied around its neck and Mephisto tilted his head, letting out a caw as if telling him that he deserved to show off the gift you had tied around its neck just like how Sylus wears all the clothes you tailored for him with confidence.

“Look at you, so entitled,” Sylus pointed out, giving the end of the little ribbon a gentle tug, his finger grazing on the embroidered letters, “She named you ‘Daisy’, you know.”

Mephisto let out a loud caw this time, fully aware of its other name and telling him that it is the best name while it continued to preen under his touch.

Traitorous bird.

Since when did the loyalties of his own mechanical crow shifted from him to you, the little seamstress? Unbelievable.

Sylus’ thoughts were interrupted when Mephisto let out a soft beep, its wings flapping to sit on his shoulder and he raised an eyebrow, looking at his creation with wry amusement.

“What? No more quips for me?”, he asked sarcastically.

Mephisto tilted its head and there was a certain glint on its eyes, excited on what it is about to show to its master who has been pining for you for months.

It projected a hologram in front of him and Sylus can’t help but snort at the scene replaying before him.

In the glass of the window of Mephisto’s usual perch on your studio was his creation’s reflection and he watched as you pressed a chaste kiss on the top of its head before letting it fly away, bidding it to take care and visit soon.

Of course the bird is getting kisses.

Perhaps he had given too much autonomy over Mephisto because he is certain it is intentionally making him irritated, as absurd as it sounds.

He is jealous. Over a damn bird. His own creation. That he modified the program to look after you.

“You’re really enjoying all this attention, aren’t you?”, he asked, glancing at the crow who just ruffled his feathers in an almost smug manner.

“Ungrateful bird.”

Yet, the gentle scratch he gave under Mephisto’s beak says otherwise.

[malikat24601]

“I’m nervous, man,” Eddie confessed, finding it easier to talk now that Steve’s heavy gaze wasn’t on him. “So nervous. Like… I’ve never done this before. Hook ups I understand, sex is easy, but romance? What’s a guy like me supposed to do with that? ”

Steve had dropped hands from his face and had relaxed into Eddie’s side, pressed there together on the mattress, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. His eyes were closed and he looked deep in thought. Eddie waited, watching him curiously out of the corner of his eye, wondering what advice he would give. What came next out of Steve’s mouth was nothing that Eddie had been expecting. “If it were me, if I were the guy, Eds, I know what I would do if I were the one lucky enough to take you out on a date,” he began softly, voice like velvet. Eddie wanted to wrap himself up in the sound, feel it drag all along his body, live there forever. “First, I’d pick you up,” Steve continued, weaving his words like a spell. “Is whatshisname picking you up or are you meeting him?” “Meeting him.” “Hmm,” Steve hummed, the corners of his lips pulling down in displeasure. “That’s his first mistake. I would pick you up, would want to make you feel special. Meet you at your door, walk you to the car. Take care of you. Bring you a little gift — flowers maybe, to make you laugh, candy because you’re sweet.” “Chocolate?” Eddie asked, perking up. He loved candy. “You’re so predictable.” “SweeTarts, a whole bag of ‘em,” Steve countered, smile tugging at his lips in the most delicious way, a smile that only Eddie got to see. “Because you’re not that sweet, Munson.” Eddie laughed, delighted. This sweet and sour, this push and pull, this ability of Steve’s to meet Eddie right where he was and give as good as he got lit up some part of his brain that no one else could touch, and it was frighteningly addicting. He wanted more, always more. “And then, Steve?” “What’s the date tonight, dinner and a movie you said? And you say I’m predictable. Ok. I’d take you to a place I knew well for dinner, something older, more established and out of the way so we wouldn’t be fighting the crowd. Someplace dark, with tight little corner booths, perfect for close talking, and closer sitting. You and me, pressed up together in the flickering candlelight, reading from the same menu. I’d order you a cocktail, an old fashioned — sweet, because I know you like it, and whiskey because it always warms you up, makes your face flush the prettiest pink.” “Oh,” Eddie breathed, his pulse picking up in the strangest way, laughter fading from his lips.

AAHHHHHH!!! My beloved @ladydarklord made a podfic of my fic SweetTart JUST IN TIME FOR VALENTINE'S DAY (I'm so generous to share my bday gift with the masses.) I'm so excited for this, errrrbody please listen and enjoy 🖤🖤🖤😭

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62984737

[lynnieverse]

i'm going to fall madly in love with you // jegulus

oneshot

muggle soulmates au where your soulmate's first words appear as a tattoo on your body

regulus black x james potter

synopsis: James Potter never thought he’d meet his soulmate, let alone his best friend’s little brother.

a/n: this is different from my rafe fics but I thought i'd share my first love when it comes to fanfiction! writing for the marauders is one of my favorite things ever so hope you enjoy!

“Remus, have you got the noodles? I need them to float!” Sirius’ voice rang throughout the Potter’s house. James snickered, but covered it with his hand, earning him a glare from his long haired friend. “This is serious, Prongs. I don’t know how to swim and I don’t fancy dying!” 

“Yes, dear, I have your noodles. Can we please be off now?” Remus whined as he came down the stairs holding three noodles and a cooler in his arms. Peter was running around, throwing item after item into a large tote bag. His face was starting to redden when James placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“Wormy, what in the hell are you doing?” 

“I have to pack all the sunscreen, I burn easily! You can look like a lobster all you want, James Potter, but I will not!” James threw his hands up in surrender before slouching back in his spot on the sofa. The boys were taking this beach trip a bit too serious, he thought. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Reg is going to be joining us,” Sirius said, earning a groan from Peter and a raised eyebrow from Moony. Sirius sighed and gripped the towel around his neck. “He needs to get out of that house.”

“We’ve never even spoken to the tosser!” James shouted. He thought today was just going to be him and the other marauders, until Remus went and invited Lily, who then had to invite Mary, who in turn invited Marlene and Dorcas. Now it was a whole ordeal that James hadn’t planned for. He was hoping to attract some attention from other tourists and maybe his words would appear. 

Sirius and Remus’ already had theirs, when they met on the bus to school it just appeared on each of their wrists. It was the same for Dorcas and Marlene. James had held out hope for Lily, but no words ever appeared and he gave up hope. Now his days consisted of talking to strangers on the street for no reason, but to no avail. Now, his plan was ruined. 

“Well, you’ll meet him today!” Sirius chirped. James scowled but decided to let it go. Sirius wasn’t often in a good mood about his brother, Regulus, and it was best to let them spend time together before it all blew up again. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fun Prongs, lighten up,” Remus said. Oh, he’d lighten up alright. 

“Let’s just go,” James told them, picking up a few beach chairs and towels, then walking out the front door. His three best friends followed after him, one by one putting all of their things in the back of his blue Ford Bronco. James slid into the driver’s seat and twisted the key in the ignition, letting the car roar to life. “Everybody in?” He asked, adjusting the rear view mirror and replacing his glasses with his new sunglasses. A chorus of affirmations sounded from the rest of the cabin, so he stepped on the gas and pulled out of his driveway. Peter, in the passenger seat, started flipping through radio stations when ABBA started blasting through the speakers. 

“I love this song!” Sirius screeched, tugging on Remus’ arm and using his finger as a microphone. 

“You love every song,” Remus deadpanned. Sirius ignored him and started to scream the lyrics.

“YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN!” Peter covered his ears but started laughing, and James cracked a smile. He started to hum along as the wind blew his hair into an even bigger mess than usual. 

“YOU CAN DANCE!” Sirius pointed at James.

“You can Ji-ive!” James sang off key with him. 

“HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!”

“Ooh,” Peter chimed in quietly. Remus sat in silence, pretending to hate every second of their impromptu concert. Sirius was poking his face, and still using his finger as a microphone.

“Come on, Moony!” James yelled. Remus glared at him for a second before bursting out into song.

“You’re a teaser, you turn ‘em on..” He looks seductively at Sirius, who’s mouth fell open and cheeks heated up instantly. “Leave ‘em burning and then you’re…gone!” Remus pretends to swoon and starts dragging peace signs in front of his eyes. James tries to pay attention to the road, but can’t stop giggling at how ridiculous Remus looks. Peter is completely turned around in his seat and singing the lyrics with him. 

When that song finishes, another follows, making the car erupt in cheers. 

“It’s our song!” Sirius shouts, clapping his hands together wildly. 

“Why don’t you start us off, Moony,” Peter laughs. 

“Well, Billy rapped all night about his suicide, how he'd kick it in the head when he was twenty-five,” Remus sang angelically. Remus had always been the better singer out of the four boys, and they were all jealous because of it. He continued on throughout the first verse and motioned for everyone to join in during the chorus. 

“All!” They sang, “All the young dudes…carry the news. Boogaloo dudes, carry the news!” Their voices carried them all the way to the beach, where James spotted the girls and parked sloppily beside them. 

“Lily!” Remus screamed. 

“Remus!” The redhead shouted back, running towards his tall frame and jumping, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him. She gave him a big smooch on the cheek and Remus grinned ear to ear. 

“Alright, alright! That’s my soulmate you’re kissing, woman!” Sirius barked. 

“Honestly, Sirius! You’re so territorial,” Lily said as she slid down and off Remus’ body. 

“Like a dog!” Dorcas shouted with a snort. Sirius scowled at both of them and crossed his arms. 

“If I’m a dog, Moony’s a bloody wolf! The way he acts about me and James, you’d think his eyes were green.” Remus rolled his eyes but shot James a look as if to say, ‘Don’t you dare do something, James Potter’. James shrugged and smiled innocently at him, because there was nothing more fun than getting on Moony's nerves. 

“Okay, enough bickering! I want to see my boys!” Lily said, coming to hug James first then Peter. 

“Me too!” Mary shouted, hopping out of Lily’s green Volkswagen van. She ran towards them, her long braids whipping behind her. James smiled and held out his arms, welcoming her embrace. It had been too long since they’d been together. Almost half the summer to be exact. 

“Hope you’ve been staying out of trouble,” she whispered in his ear. 

“About as much as you have I s’pose.” Mary shoved his shoulder and went to say hello to Peter as James made his way over to Dorcas and Marlene. 

“How’ve you two been?” He asked. Remus and Sirius were helping Lily take some of their things down to the shoreline, so he had a minute alone with the couple. He couldn’t help but stare at their soulmate tattoos, so obvious on each other’s shoulder. Dorcas seemed to notice.

“We’ve been good James, but don’t worry! You’ll find your soulmate soon, I can feel it.” He nodded stiffly and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Dory,” Marlene patted his shoulder and gave him a sad smile. 

“Some of us were fortunate enough to meet ours in primary school, but sometimes it takes time. You know they’re out there, and you’re doing everything you can, so don’t worry. It will happen as it should.” 

“You sound like Trelawney,” James snickered, referencing their drama professor. 

“Don’t insult me like that!” Marlene flicked his forehead and made him pout. James stuck his tongue out at her while Dorcas laughed at the both of them. 

“Alright, I think we should probably help them,” Dorcas said. When they turned, the only thing left was the umbrella and Peter’s tote bag. 

“Well, I guess I’ll get the umbrella!” James walked over and bent down to pick it up. When he righted himself he noticed a man walking down the path to get to the beach. Scratch that, James saw a gorgeous man walking down the path to the beach. 

James gaped at his lean muscles and dark hair, only barely catching himself before the stranger turned around and gave him a strange look. James blushed profusely but pretended he didn’t notice, instead making sure the girls were alright and had everything they needed. When the trio was ready to head down, the man was gone. James breathed a sigh of relief and laughed at how ridiculous he was being.

“There they are!” Marlene shouted, pointing at their group down by the water. 

“Who’s that with them?” Dorcas asked. James could have dropped everything right then, because right next to Sirius was the beautiful stranger. His face paled, but he managed to walk the rest of the way. 

“There you are! We thought you’d died!” Mary said, throwing her hands up and letting them fall to her sides. 

“No, no death here. Just a little chat, that’s all.” 

“Whatever you say, Dory,” Sirius smiled. Dorcas gave James a knowing look, to which he ignored. He still couldn’t stop glancing at the stranger. Everyone seemed to be doing the same thing until Sirius caught up and interrupted the silence. 

“Oh, right! Everyone this is my brother Reggie,” Reggie elbowed Sirius with a scowl, “er, Regulus. My brother, Regulus.” James’ eyes widened. Beautiful stranger was Sirius’ brother?! Well shit. 

“Nice to meet you Regulus!” Lily shoved her hand in front of her, smiling wide. That girl was too damn chipper, it’s a wonder how they all hadn’t killed her yet. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Regulus’ deep voice vibrated through James’ ears, filling him up like warm milk. He was staring at James now, probably waiting for him to introduce himself, but all he could manage was a slight nod. Regulus looked confused but returned it, then moving his attention to the others. Remus shuffled over and leaned down.

“That was smooth, James, real smooth.” 

“Shut up, Moony! He’s just so…so pretty!” James whisper-shouted.

“How will you know if he’s your soulmate if you never talk to him?” 

“Oh no, no, absolutely not! He can’t be my soulmate!” 

“Why, because he’s a he?” Remus squinted his eyes and leaned in close. James’ face burned and he pinched his friend’s cheek. 

“No, dipshit, because that’s Sirius’ brother, and Sirius is my best friend!” 

“You know he won’t care,” Remus said, rubbing the spot James pinched. 

“Exactly! He won’t care because it’s not going to happen!” Remus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

“That’s idiotic, Potter.”

“Well,” James tried to think of a comeback, “you’re idiotic!” Remus shot him an unimpressed look and made his way back over to Sirius. James’ shoulders slumped and he couldn’t believe his luck. 

James grabbed his towel and anchored it down with his flip flops, throwing his glasses, shirt, and wallet down with them. 

“I’m going in!” He yelled back at everyone as he sprinted for the water. They all waved and cheered as he splashed through the cold waves. He smiled cheesily at them before a big wave crashed on top of him and he went under. When he resurfaced Sirius was looking worried while Remus was rubbing his shoulder. James gave them a thumbs up to show, yes, he was okay, before swimming deeper out in the ocean. 

James motioned for everyone to come in and soon enough they all were, with the exception of Remus, Sirius, and Regulus. James kept looking back to shore and swore he caught Regulus staring, but dismissed it because he didn’t have his glasses on and everything was blurry anyway. 

They all played in the water for about thirty minutes before James needed a break; the sun beating down was making him thirsty. He jogged up to their towels but couldn’t seem to locate his own. Damn his shitty vision. 

“Hey, dick-for-brains! Stop getting sand all over my goddamn towel!” That deep, intoxicating voice yelled. Knowing it was Regulus, he felt bad. 

“Sorry, love. I can’t really see where I’m going; I left my glasses with my towel.” Silence engulfed him for a moment before Regulus spoke to him in a much calmer tone. 

“Uh, actually…I’m sorry. Totally my fault! You said you couldn’t see? Like, at all?” Even without his glasses on he could make out the shape of Regulus in front of him and stared in that direction in confusion. 

“No? Not at all, why?”

“Um, no reason. I’ll help you back to your glasses, I have something to apologize for anyway and you probably would like to see…”

James’ blood ran cold. He couldn’t possibly be…no. But Regulus kept rambling as he took James’ arm and he knew, he knew exactly why Regulus needed to apologize. 

“I’m going to kill you!” 

“What?!” Regulus exclaimed in alarm. They hadn’t made it to the towel yet, but in this close proximity he could see Regulus’ face clearly. 

“I’ve got “dick-for-brains” tattooed on me, haven’t I?” Regulus blushed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. 

“Y-yes. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” James stared into his grey-blue eyes and burst out laughing. Soon enough, Regulus was laughing too, until they were both clutching their sides. Regulus finally slid James’ glasses onto his face and he could really look at him. 

“I’ve barely known you for an hour, but I can tell I’m going to fall madly in love with you,” James whispered, reaching up to caress Regulus’ cheek. Regulus smiled at him and kissed his palm. 

“Well I should hope so, we’re soulmates.” James' breath hitched and he felt like crying. He’d finally found his soulmate, after all this time. 

All of a sudden he was tackled to the ground and pinned down. 

“Why the hell are you touching my little brother, Prongs?!” Sirius yelled. James stared up in shock at his best friend sitting on top of him, then to Remus who was chuckling behind him. 

“Pads! Look at my chest!” James shouted. Sirius squinted, but looked down and noticed the brand new tattoo across James’ heart. He then gasped loudly and sat back on his heels. He pointed at James, then at Regulus with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“But your–” he looked at Regulus, “and he’s–” he looked at James, “Dick for brains?” James burst out laughing and glanced up at his soulmate. 

“Yeah, I’ve found a real catch, haven’t I Paddy?”

“Oh, shut up arsehole, you deserved it.” Regulus scoffed with a small grin.

“For life?!” James screeched. 

“I think it’s romantic!” Lily chimes in. 

“You would, Lily Evans, you would.” 

“My brother!” Sirius was still flabbergasted, trying to make sense of this new development. Remus picked him up by the armpits and placed him on his own towel.

“While you process this, we want to actually talk to them,” Remus kissed Sirius on the cheek and turned his attention back to the newly found soulmates. 

“I told you so.”

“Shut up, Moony!” James punched his friend’s shoulder. 

“Oh my gosh, I can be your surrogate! I’ll throw the gender reveal party and everything!” Lily squealed. 

“That’s a little soon don’t you think?” 

“Never! I’ll get everyone else to help, except for Peter, you know he can’t keep a secret.” Lily poked Peter’s cheek and he let out a huff. James could see Regulus was becoming a bit uncomfortable, so he whistled everyone to attention.

“Alright! That’s enough, let’s go back to swimming now!” Regulus shot him a grateful smile but it faltered when James tried to pull him along with everyone else. 

“I’m not a great swimmer, can we just stay here?”

“Sure, love,” James replied with a soft smile, “whatever you want.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

A/n: would be happy to post a whole smut fic of anyone wants it

Neville Longbottom was a gentlemen.

He was raised to be respectful, patient and Considerate - especially when it came to you, the woman he adored with every fiber of his being.

Which is why is he fully expected your first time with him to be soft and delicate filled with sweet whispers and slow kisses.

He had not, under any circumstances expected it to involve sentient, enchanted vines pinning him to a bed.

Yet, here you two were....and Neville Longbottom was not prepared for this.

It Started Innocently Enough…

You two had been spending the evening together in the greenhouse, where you where tending to some magical flora, completely in your element.

Neville, utterly smitten, had spent the last hour watching you work, your hair falling over your shoulders, the light from the enchanted lanterns giving you an almost ethereal glow.

And when you had finally turned to him, smiling, brushing a bit of dirt off you cheek—

He kissed you.

Soft...Sweet....At first.

Until you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed your body against his, and suddenly—

The dynamic shifted.

Because you kissed back differently.

Not shy. Not hesitant. But knowing.

Deliberate.

And when Neville’s back bumped against the wooden post of the greenhouse, and you took that moment to flip the positions—

Neville had the sudden, horrifying realization that you were in control.

Which was confirmed when you murmured, in that soft, deceptively sweet voice—

“Let me take care of you, Nev.”

Neville, blinking rapidly, tried to say something intelligent.

All that came out was:

“Oh—oh.”

The Vines. Oh, Merlin, the Vines.

Neville had been so focused on you—your lips, your hands, the way you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world—that he hadn’t even noticed the vines creeping along the greenhouse floor.

Not until they suddenly curled around his wrists, pinning them to the wooden post behind him.

Neville’s brain short-circuited.

“Y/n—?”

You tilted your head, smiling innocently. “Mmm?”

Neville tugged against the enchanted vines, realizing very quickly that they weren’t going anywhere.

“You—you tied me up?”

You, trailed your fingers down his chest, completely unbothered, hummed. “They’re just a little enchanted. You’ll be fine.”

Neville, mouth opening and closing like a fish, stared at you.

Y/n, soft, sweet Y/n—

Had tied him up.

With sentient plants.

Neville, voice slightly higher-pitched than usual, muttered, “Y/n, if you don’t let me go, I swear—”

You leant in, brushing your lips against his jaw.

Neville forgot how to breathe.

“Hmm?” You whispered, barely touching him, teasing.

And that was the moment Neville realized he was doomed.

Later, as Neville lay there, completely wrecked, staring at the ceiling, he slowly turned his head to look at you.

Who, of course, was curled against his chest, looking perfectly content.

Neville blinked.

“Y/m?”

“Mmm?”

A pause.

“…How long have you known you could do that?”

You smirked against his skin.

“Oh, I’ve always known.”

Neville groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

“Oh, Merlin help me.”

Tracing a small pattern to his chest you glanced up at him. "Did you like it."

Voice, still rough, mind still in a fog he slowly nodded his head. "I did."

"Good."

[olderthannetfic]

Not to reignite the smut fic PSAs wank but I read such a funny example a while ago. It was a pwp oneshot, featuring characters who had clearly been fucking for years, and it just broke the story flow mid sex to explain that they of course had gotten tested before deciding not to use condoms anymore - which was implied to have happened quite a long time ago. There are infinitely more egregious examples, but it was so hilariously clunky in the middle of an otherwise rather good fic. In contrast, I recently read a different, plottier story where the characters go from fucking-but-not-properly-together and use condoms when having penetrative sex, to being in a committed relationship where they decide they don't need them anymore in a sweet, emotional scene. And you know what? That's a great depiction of realistic safe sex!

Anyone can write whatever they want forever, sure, but I gotta say that feeling like I'm suddenly reading a sex ed PSA does take me out of the HotTM.

--

It really is all about writing skill, unfortunately.

[mumms-the-word]

A Crow's Work is Never Done

Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook (Phyrra Mercar) Summary: Post-DATV, Lucanis and Rook attend a masked ball together. But Lucanis has some business he needs to take care of first before he can have any fun. Spite thinks he should just dance with Rook instead. A/N: This is kind of a spiritual successor/sequel to @cheerysmores' fic Unfinished Business (with a hint of vibes pulled from her excellent smut Yours. Mine. Ours. too!) so definitely check those out!! Friend, I hope I have done your Rook and Lucanis (and Spite!!) justice! Happy birthday!!

It had been some time since Lucanis attended a masked ball. He didn’t frequent Orlais much and Antiva had its own brand of extravagance that rarely required—or even desired— the anonymity of masks. The goal of a typical Antivan gala was to be seen and recognized. Be seen talking with the right (or sometimes wrong) people, be seen flaunting the latest fashions, be seen holding the finest glass of wine, be seen disappearing for a tryst that could entail anything from romance to business to murder. You had to be seen before you could be missed.

But Antiva had their masked events, too. A sense of carnivale was always the order of the day, a time of festive chaos where identities could be hidden for a few hours simply for the sake of shaking things up and keeping things interesting. While the Orlesians loved their masks, Antivans loved their theatre. The irony of the long-nosed trickster Zanni linking arms with the straight-laced Capitano braggart was part of the fun. If one didn’t see a gold-tressed Andraste (her hair always a wig) slipping away with an elegant Shartan (his elven ears sometimes fake) then it was a waste of a good masque. For a few short hours, you could become someone else for a change, acting the role of your new persona with all the zealous enthusiasm Antiva was known for.

Events like these were where the Crows thrived. Any given crowd of bird-masked figures could be hiding a genuine Crow in their midst. That, too, was part of the excitement. The man on your arm could be a wealthy merchant in a black-feathered mask, or he could be a sinister assassin, there to kill you. Do you risk the dance, the drink, the tryst? Are you any safer in the arms of a person dressed intentionally like a Crow? The only way to know was to take the chance.

Antivans did love a gamble.

It was no different tonight at this gala. Lucanis watched guests mingle, dance, and drink from his spot on a balcony overseeing the main ballroom. Though he had entered this villa as a guest, he was more comfortable watching from a distance, preferably somewhere up high and out of sight. Not so tonight. Tonight he needed to be seen…at least for a moment.

He adjusted the mask on his face, a black half-mask with a sharp beak curving down over his nose, a crown of eight blue-black feathers lining the edge. The Mask of the First House. It gave away his identity immediately—only one Crow family was ever allowed to wear this mask—but only to those in the know. Unfortunately for him, “those in the know” probably made up half of this crowd.

Treviso had too many Crows.

And this party had too many guests. Lucanis tapped his fingers idly on the railing of the balcony, conscious of every eye that swept up and over to look at him. It went against all his training to stand there out in the open, rather than slinking through the shadows. This was Illario’s realm, the kind of atmosphere his cousin had always thrived in, flirting and sweet-talking his way through crowds of men and women alike. In fact it wasn’t all that long ago that Lucanis watched from the roof as Illario navigated a Tevinter party to seduce some keys off a guard captain. That was before Zara, though. Before Spite.

Before Phyrra.

Where is she? Spite hissed in his ear. Lucanis cast a side-eyed look at the purple figure that materialized next to him. Spite walked restlessly along the edge of the balcony, keeping behind the banister as if it were a cage. He leaned over to look down at the ballroom below, as if Phyrra might be tucked directly underneath them, and then straightened again. Where?

“I left her with Teia and Viago,” Lucanis said. “They’ll keep her busy in another room while we work.” Or so they promised. Phyrra might have other ideas.

Work. Disdain and disgust dripped from the word when Spite said it. You said we could dance with Rook!

“And we will,” he said. “After the work is done.”

He looked across at another balcony directly opposite his, where a familiar dark-clad figure stood, half-obscured by a curtain. Their gazes locked across the space, an understanding born of years of work and training together crossing the distance easily and silently. Lucanis gave a single nod and the figure disappeared.

Him again, Spite spat. I want—

“No.”

Spite growled and paced again, but to Lucanis’ surprise, didn’t argue. The two of them could be of one mind about Phyrra, but Illario would always have them at odds. Lucanis was trying to keep forgiveness and redemption as an open option, no matter how much anger simmered beneath the surface whenever he thought of Illario’s betrayals. His opinion of Illario shifted by the moment, tangled up with years of memories and fresh hurts. Spite was much simpler. He saw Illario, and simply wanted blood.

Lucanis couldn’t blame him. Some days he was even jealous that Spite could be so direct with his feelings.

It wasn’t as though he wanted to work with his cousin. But ever since Illario had delivered that rogue Crow to his cellar and presented him with that serrated blade, the same one that had marred Phyrra’s back in an attack that never should have happened, Lucanis had agreed begrudgingly to let him assist in tracing the contract back from one piss-poor assassin to whatever mastermind was behind the contract. A single Crow could be dealt with easily, but a contract was forever, until the mark was dead.

Or until the contract itself was destroyed.

Next to him, Spite stiffened and then leaned over the banister again, craning his neck out toward the ballroom floor like a bloodhound on alert.

Rook!

Lucanis couldn’t help himself. He followed Spite’s gaze down among the crowd of masked guests, a churning sea of color and movement. His eyes fell on her immediately.

She looked stunning, her dark dress hugging every curve of her body, every line of her form sensual and lush. He’d loved that dress the moment she had put it on, back at the Dellamorte estate, loved the feel of it beneath his palm as he escorted her out of the carriage and into the ball with his hand at her waist, loved the thought of pulling it slowly and patiently from her body when they returned back to their room tonight. The fabric of the dress was a black, slightly iridescent material, the light of the candles and magelights reflecting subtle shades of blue, green, and pink like oil on dark water. The darker tones brought out the porcelain softness of her pale skin, while the occasional flash of rainbow made her magenta hair seem as natural as her perfect, ready smile.

She was, in a word, breathtaking.

She had always looked good in night tones—darkened sapphire and velvet black, midnight blue and rich indigo. Lucanis had once joked that she was made for a Crow’s color palette, that perhaps she ought to think about a change in factions, and she had laughed and said her hair would always give her away.

None of you are quite so colorful as me, she’d said, fluffing her pink curls.

It had made Lucanis smile. She always made him smile. And that is why I love you.

She wore a feathered mask of her own tonight. A gift from House Dellamorte, from Catarina herself, a more delicate replica of the Mask of the First House to match his. Every Crow here would recognize what it meant, and the power it gave her. Even if any of them dared to strike, they wouldn’t be able to plead ignorance.

She was a Dellamorte in all but name and she had entered on the arm of the First Talon. Anyone foolish enough to strike against her would find their names on a contract within moments, with all the might of House Dellamorte and its allies bearing down upon them. It should have guaranteed her safety, but instead…

Lucanis glanced back at the balcony where Illario had given him the signal. Clearly, despite all the ample warning his and Phyrra’s attire and appearance had given their audience, some fool was bold enough to make a move anyway. And now said fool was caught in a trap.

It would be rude to keep them waiting much longer.

Spite interrupted his thoughts with a strange sound, something between an irritated growl and a forlorn whine. She. Is. Looking!

Lucanis glanced down, heart in his throat, but Phyrra hadn’t seen him yet. She was enjoying a glass of wine with Teia and Viago, standing in one corner near the refreshment tables, but her eyes were not idle. She scanned the crowd, curious, but with a hint of disappointment. Looking for him, without a doubt.

He had disappeared from her side a few moments earlier with an excuse, one that only gave him twenty minutes of leeway at best. But Phyrra was sharp and at times wonderfully unpredictable. Those traits had served her well during their fight against the ancient elven gods. It could spell disaster tonight.

When her gaze swept up to the balconies, he stepped back, into the shadows. Spite, unseen by anyone but him, stayed by the railing, curling his fingers into the polished wood.

Us! She wants us!

“I’m aware. Come,” Lucanis said, needlessly because Spite couldn’t exactly get left behind. “The sooner we find out who this mastermind of ours is, the sooner we can return to Rook.”

The thought seemed to invigorate Spite. His sudden shift in excitement crashed through Lucanis’s mind like a gangly young pup. Yes! They hurt Rook!

Lucanis clenched his jaw, the image of that blade, stained with cheap poison, coming once again to his mind. If that poison had been successful (a pitifully low chance, but still a chance), it would have meant a slow death for Phyrra. A clumsy death. Dishonorable, agonizing, unskilled, and offensive to the very name of the Crows.

But the Crow who had attacked her was dead already. Whoever had sent him was not.

As if reading his mind, Spite was at his side in an instant, grinning wide. I want them dead!

Lucanis nodded. “As do I. Let’s go.”

—————

Lucanis returned over an hour later, weaving through the swaying crowds with ease and fixing the buttons on his sleeve as he went. That had taken longer than he liked. Illario was supposed to have everything contained to one room so that Lucanis could slip inside, carve a few answers out of the bastard, and then finish him off with speed.

Instead, the bastard had put up a fight.

It hadn’t been pretty and Illario had complained bitterly afterward about the bloodstains on his coat, but at least they had left with a few more names. They were getting closer to finding out whoever was behind the contract on Phyrra’s life. That had to count for something.

If his time as part of the Veilguard had taught Lucanis anything, it was that every victory mattered, no matter how small. Names were good. Progress was good. And, most importantly, no one would be ruining the rest of his night with Phyrra.

That was the biggest victory of them all.

Spite flickered in and out of view, appearing in gaps between people and looking high and low for Phyrra as Lucanis moved through the ballroom. At one point, Lucanis even caught him standing on a chandelier, holding onto the chain for purchase like a sailor in the rigging of a ship. Lucanis shot him an exasperated look, though it wasn’t as though anyone else could see Spite or that the chandelier was in danger from his being there. He hoped.

There! Rook! Spite pointed to the second level balcony, not far from where Lucanis had waited for his signal from Illario. Lucanis adjusted his gloves and made for the stairs, Spite disappearing from view but practically buzzing with excitement within his mind.

They found her leaning back against the balustrade, a half-empty glass of wine cradled in her hand. Teia and Viago stood nearby, chatting with her, but she seemed to only half listen to them, her face turned to keep most of the ballroom in sight in the corner of her eye. She looked up the moment that Lucanis drew near, as if sensing his approach.

“Lucanis,” she said, straightening and smiling at him. Even with the mask on her face, her smile brightened her whole expression, radiating out as if with tangible light. “Where have you been?

“Yes, my friend,” Viago drawled, looking, as usual, slightly annoyed and unimpressed. “Tell us what you’ve been up to that has been taking so long.”

Teia elbowed him hard in the side and then took his arm. “Ignore him, Lucanis. He’s just upset he missed all the action.” Viago made a noncommittal hmph but didn’t deny her accusation.

Phyrra cast a glance at Lucanis that was at first curious, then suspicious. “Action?”

Lucanis cleared his throat delicately. “Something came up.”

Lies, Spite hissed in his ear. Tell the truth! Tell her who we KILLED! Tell her how we did it! I want her to know!

“What happened?” Phyrra asked, instantly on alert. She set aside her wine glass and stepped closer, scanning his face and body for clues. “Did someone attack you? Do we have enemies here?”

Viago laughed. “You have enemies everywhere, Rook, least of all here. You should know better than to lead with such a question.”

“Stop teasing her, Vi,” Teia chided, pinching his arm now. She turned to Lucanis with a smile. “We’d better get back to the party. We have business of our own to attend to. Don’t we, Viago?” She gave him another nudge.

“Mm, yes, something to that effect,” he said, sharing a smile with her. It was the kind of smile he tended to save only for Teia, one that meant their business could just as easily be one of romantic passion as it could the business of the Crows. Lucanis didn’t dare ask which it would be tonight. He truly didn’t want to know.

Viago gave him a nod and then escorted Teia away. “Don’t wait up for us, First Talon. Enjoy your night.”

Phyrra watched them walk away, waiting until they had drawn far enough out of earshot before stepping close and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Business, Lucanis? I thought we were here for some fun. Wine, games, silly masks, that sort of thing. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

“It was—it is,” he said, quickly correcting himself, while Spite looked smug just out of his periphery. Spite always looked smug when Phyrra was on his side, whether she knew she was or not. “But—”

“But what? But you had a contract?”

He shifted, uncomfortable, while Spite looked at him for his answer, his expression not unlike a clever cat eyeing a cornered mouse. “Think of this one more as a precaution.”

That didn’t convince her. “Lucanis.”

“It doesn’t matter now. It has been dealt with.”

“By yourself?” Phyrra took his arm, squeezing gently. “I could have helped you.”

Yes! Spite grabbed his other arm, his fingers digging in with pressure only Lucanis could feel. Next time, bring Rook. Not him. Rook is better.

Lucanis ignored him. “It wasn’t a simple contract, Phyrra. I needed…specific answers. If you were there…”

Spite sneered. Excuses. Tell her.

“What are you so worried about?” Phyrra asked. “That they would have hurt me? Or that I’d somehow look differently at you, seeing you get your answers?” She let go of him, frowning. “I’m no stranger to interrogation, Lucanis. You don’t have to coddle me.”

Lucanis groaned. “No, it’s not that, it’s—look.” He took her by the arms, facing her directly. “I thought it would take only a moment to deal with, and I thought if you were in the room the target wouldn’t talk. If they attacked on sight and we killed them in defense, we’d get no more clues for a while. It was all meant to take only ten, maybe twenty minutes.”

Phyrra pouted, doubt written plainly on her face, even with the mask. Then a dry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “But it went sideways, didn’t it?”

Lucanis smiled too. “It usually does.” He sighed and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin briefly on her shoulder. “Forgive me, mi amor. I should have told you before we left, but I didn’t want to alert the target that something was amiss. I needed them to think you could be caught unaware.”

“Oh, so I am bait now?”

He winced, starting to draw back. “No, that’s not what I—”

She locked her arms around him, giving him no chance to escape. “I know,” she said lightly with a little sigh. “You’re forgiven. For now. But next time…”

“Next time I will certainly have you with me.”

He sensed her smile, even as she turned her head to rest it on his shoulder, careful not to poke him with the little beak of her mask. “You’d better.”

“You have my word,” he murmured. She relaxed at last, all tension and irritation forgotten.

He closed his eyes, letting himself linger in her embrace. He cherished the warmth of her against him, the press of her supple form against his carefully honed muscle. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her away, back to the Dellamorte estate, and lock the two of them in a room until dawn. These days, his time with her was so precious. He couldn’t afford to waste a single moment.

He wanted to kill that arrogant Crow all over again, just for taking too much of his time.

But you couldn’t kill people twice (usually) and he had promised Phyrra a fun night at a party, so they ought to stay for a little while longer. Besides, people had already seen them in attendance. Even now, he knew their place on this balcony didn’t totally hide them from the eyes that may be watching. There would be plenty of talk about seeing the First Talon in a cozy embrace with Rook, the savior of the world. Talk was inevitable.

Talk was also dangerous. In Antiva, among the Crows especially, his name carried as much weight as the king’s, more so in some people’s view, but the name wouldn’t always protect him. It was the same for Phyrra. The name Rook was on everybody’s lips, but for every person wanting to reward or praise her there was another who wanted to exploit or kill her. There would be no escaping the gossip or plots against them unless they somehow retreated again to the Lighthouse, that dizzying, fragmented space where they had first kindled this romance.

He didn’t want to retreat. Despite it all, he would rather be here, where the sky made sense and the ground was solid and the air was filled with the familiar scents of home—spices and dried herbs, leather and salt, rich dark coffee and refined tobacco smoke. He wanted Treviso to be her home too. That’s what all of this was for. Eliminating the dangers so that one day, perhaps soon, she could settle here.

But was that what she wanted? A life with him would never be quiet or calm. Not in Antiva, not anywhere else. And Minrathous still needed to be rebuilt. As long as any rubble or ruin remained there, it would always call to her like a song, plucking her heartstrings, each note a sigh of guilt and grief. She loved him, he knew that, but she would always have one foot in Minrathous until that guilt was assuaged.

Perhaps he was merely standing in the way of that.

“Phyrra,” he said quietly. “Do you regret this road you have taken with me?”

She shook her head slightly, tightening her hold on him. “Of course not.”

“Even though it means a target on your back?” He pulled away to look at her again, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek. “Whether here or in Minrathous, you know that being with me will only…”

Stop! Spite snapped. He could sense the train of Lucanis’ thoughts, the destination that he was too hesitant to speak aloud. No! Rook is ours!

“I’ve got a target on my back no matter where I am or who I’m with,��� she reminded him. She pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart, searching for his heartbeat beneath the fabric. “Just because we have a new Archon doesn’t mean I’m safe in Minrathous either. But I…we can handle it. And it won’t be for forever.”

Right?

She didn’t say the word, but Lucanis could sense it hovering in the air between them. A silent plea for reassurance, her pride just enough that she would never say it, but her eyes searching his for an answer regardless.

At their side, Spite was staring at him too, an uncharacteristic look of worry on his face. He voiced the question she seemed unwilling to say.

Not forever. Right?

Lucanis released a slow breath. “Of course not.”

The tension in her shoulders relaxed. Carefully, slowly, he untied the strings of her mask, pulling it away from her face and leaving her gazing up steadily at him, her bare expression open and waiting. He leaned in, careful of the edges and points of his mask, and slipped his hand into her rich curls, guiding her into a slow, luxurious kiss. Patient, steadfast, reassuring. A kiss that whispered I’m here. A kiss that promised I’ll stay.

At the back of his mind, Spite settled into something like a low purr, all restlessness forgotten.

“Not forever,” Lucanis breathed against her lips. He drew back to meet her gaze again, cradling her face in his palms. “Nothing in Thedas can keep us apart forever. Neither gods nor tyrants nor the seas between us can do that.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“I swear it.”

He kissed her again, letting her taste the oath on his tongue.

He knew she would go back to Minrathous soon. She had unfinished business there, just as he had unfinished business with whomever among the Crows wanted to kill her. But for now, for tonight, they were together. And one day they would be together for good.

“Lucanis,” she whispered in between kisses.

“Mm?”

“Dance with me.”

He drew back, a little surprised at first, but Spite’s voice filled his head before he could answer.

YES! Spite appeared behind her, spirit-fire eyes blazing with glee. Dance with Rook! Dance with Rook! He practically bounced on the balls of his feet.

Lucanis allowed himself a dry smile. “Would you like Spite’s answer, or mine?”

Phyrra hummed thoughtfully, playfully. “Both.”

Lucanis chuckled and shifted his hold on her until they were in a proper dance position, his hand on her waist. “Very well. We accept.”

[roseyrays]

✰ a valentine’s night; lighter lorenz x reader ✰ a small drabble

NOT PROOFREAD

2nd person pov; reader’s gender is not mentioned so anyone could read this!

reader and lighter met during chapter 4 with the proxy and became friends after that so basically this is a friends-to-lovers type of fic

warnings: might be ooc but it's a x reader fic so lol, 5/10 writing cuz I just popped this idea out of my ass but despite that

enjoy!! ♡︎ and happy valentine’s day lighter nation 🩷🩷

────୨ৎ────

February 14th, Valentine’s Day, a day filled with love and couples going on dates around New Eridu

[name] though? Their plans for the rest of the day are:

watch movies, draw, probably sleep and whatnot

just like every year.

────୨ৎ────

It was a pretty cozy evening as you settled onto youtlr bed with a facemask on, and hair tied back with a headband. Dressed in comfortable pajamas enjoying a cup of ramen while watching a movie you rented from Random Play

The movie was a cheesy romance movie that had pretty solid reviews online

“Damn, they have such poor communicate skills…”

You were about 30 minutes into the movie when the bell suddenly rang making your head turn to the door

“Who could be here on Valentine’s Day? I didn’t order anything…”

You thought as you got up and headed towards the door “Coming!!! Who could it be? Maybe it’s the proxy or something…”

“Hello-” And you never could've guessed who it was when you opened the door

“Hey-”

“LIGHTER??? What are you doing here??” You asked, pointing your finger at the tall man in front of you.

“Well hello to you too…Can I come in?” he asked, You haven't noticed it yet, but he's hiding his hand behind his back as you gesture to let him in.

“Uh..what are your doing here? Especially out in the evening…” You asked sitting down on a small chair in your apartment your eyes laid on Lighter as he sat down on your couch, his arm still behind his back

“What you hidin there?”

“Oh this?” he said, his face began to turn slightly red as he pulled his arm from behind his back, he revealed a single red rose. “It’s not much but…since today is valentine’s day I thought that maybe we could…you know..hang out..?” He anxiously bit his bottom lip, his cheeks and ears flushed with a rosy hue as he awaited your response, hoping you’d say yes

“Wait…are.. you asking me out?” You felt a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you gently pointed to yourself “Like.. A Date???”

“If that's what you want to call it, then yes, I am asking you out.” He responded this time with a charming smile on his face.

“So is that a yes or no?”

“I- um..s-sure!! I mean why not? I'm not doing anything this evening so..” You pause taking a moment to breathe “It’s a yes.” You affirm your answer with a smile.

“Also uh let me take a moment to change..” you say standing up with a nervous grin and gesturing your hands to your pajamas making Lighter chuckle

Slowly walking towards your closet you hear Lighter say “you look cute tho” making your cheeks ten times redder

“Don’t say that..”

“It’s true tho.. and here take the rose..” He gently steps closer to you, a rose in hand, his expression warm and understanding.

“Thanks..where did you-”

“I got it from a flower shop nearby as I was coming over to your place.”

────୨ৎ────

And here you are currently linking your arm around your crush’s best friend’s arm as you walk together. Your head resting on his shoulder with the rose on your left hand.

“So where are we going?” you asked slowly lifting your head up to meet his face.

He turned to look at you with that sweet smile of his “Hm I don't know..where do you wanna go? You know this place more than I do.”

Thinking “Maybe we could get some drinks then we could stop by somewhere for fresh air and a quiet chat..”

“I like the sound of that..” He says, pushing his glasses up.

“Shouldn’t you take those sunglasses off? It’s nighttime.” You ask with a slight chuckle.

“Nah..”

While walking, you both stopped by some shops, looking around and not planning to buy anything, but you still kept some money inside your bag just in case...

But you did stop by this one shop where a kind middle-aged woman makes flowers into clips, so you turned to Lighter and asked if you could turn the rose into a clip for you to wear and he nodded with a smile

“There you go, you look beautiful,” He complimented after helping you put the rose clip in your hair. His hand softly caressing your [colored] locks

You let out a gentle chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks as you look up at him “Thanks…”

You both walk around the shops a bit longer, hand in hand, before purchasing some drinks and trying to find a quiet place to sit and chat.

After a while, you spotted an empty bench in a quiet area, so you both went directly towards it.

Sitting down you and Lighter didn't say a word to each other yet as you gazed up at the stars, the clear night sky wrapped everything in a gentle beauty, offering a moment of solace and wonder. Lighter smiled at you and then looked up at the night sky.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” He spoke with assurance.

“Yeah..” You replied firmly, your gaze fixed on the sky Before you turn your attention to the man beside you, take a moment to consider his feelings. “Ah Lighter I forgot to ask..why did you come all this way just to ask me out? Is there something you wanna.. talk about” you ask slightly biting your lip

He turns again to look at you before looking down with an obvious blush on his cheeks “Actually yes..there is something I wanna ask..”

“Pftt like what? You like me or something? “ you say with laughter not knowing that is the truth

“Yes.”

As soon as those words came out of his mouth you stopped laughing and slowly turned to look at him “wait what..?”

“What?” He responded with a smile “What did you think I went all this way to your place just to ask you out?”

“Because I was lonely tonight..”

“Well I mean yeah but I came all this way just to say these words to you, I uh really like you [name] and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you so..

Will you..-“

“YES!” you shout, immediately tackling him into a hug making him yelp

────୨ৎ────

You were currently back at your place after your date with Lighter aka your now boyfriend as you lay together in bed

You asked him how he got the balls to ask you out or even confessing to you in the first place

He replied with saying that the girls helped him out and even Billy encouraged him with his confession

Caesar even offered to make an a whole ass confession full of declared love but all Lighter wants is a quiet confession, just you and him together

And it made your heart swell with joy as you hold his hand staring at each other with warm smiles

He decided to sleep at your place tonight not wanting to leave you just yet making your heart beat even faster

The night ends with you and him cuddling in bed, the stars never fading, keeping their shine as you both slept your hearts away. ♡︎

────୨ৎ────

author’s notes: okay so half way through writing I kinda lost motivation 💔 so that’s why the ending is kinda meh

But I wanted to write a lighter fic for Valentine’s Day and yesterday I forgot that it’s tomorrow so I had to quickly pull this out of my ass and start writing so yeah.. heh

I hope you enjoyed! Love you all and mwah!

[m-jelly]

hey! I wanted to request a fic so if you're not taking any, pls ignore this. So i wanted to ask for a Levi x fem!reader (she's the same age and levi's second in command in the og levi squad)where they're already dating long term, they love and trust each other a lot. She's loving and doting to him but she's grumpy,quiet,stoic like him(he loves it tho). 1 day she gets insecure about her nature because of a trigger(u decide)and hopes she can be more bubbly n cries but levi comforts her

Comparison

Levi x fem reader

Canon world, being a couple, insecure reader, fluff, romance, Levi comforting you.

After hearing some cadets talking about romance and couples, you become very aware of how you are with your love, Levi. Filled with guilt and worry you talk to Levi and he comforts you.

"I got into a fight with my boyfriend." The blonde sighed.

"Again?" The red hair raised a brow. "What was it this time?"

"You make it sound like it's all the time." She snapped. "It's not."

Red lifted her hands. "I didn't mean to offend. So, what now?"

"He's just so cold and uncaring." Blonde sniffed back tears. "I told him I need him to connect with me more." She patted her chest. "I need him to be present, but he's so emotionless and distant."

"Like he's mentally checked out?" Red tilted her head a bit. "That's not good. It's hard when they're so stoic and quiet. It's impossible to love someone like that."

You walked away as a sob caught in your throat. A strong deep guilt wrapped its horrible hands around your throat. You couldn't, no matter how hard you gulped or tried to get air. Your love for Levi was so deep and unbreakable but the words of the young ladies played on your mind so much.

You wanted to be more perky and outgoing around Levi. It's not like you neglected him, you did cuddle often, you were loving to him and doted on him in your own way. However, those girls' thoughts made you consider the way you acted.

You grabbed some pretty wildflowers, like normal for Levi, before rushing over to him as he finished training. "Levi!"

Levi flinched at your cheery greeting. He blinked a bit as it took him to register it was you. He softly said your name. "Everything okay?"

You gave him the flowers before kissing his cheek. "Peachy!"

He gazed at the stunning flowers, his heart always fluttered when you gave him some. As he admired them a moment a thought crossed his mind, you were smiling but your eyes held pain. He reached over and caressed your cheek allowing him to really look at you, he was right you were close to crying.

He took your hand. "Come with me."

You trotted behind him. "Sure.

He dragged you through the halls as you chatted with him in a very upbeat way, which wasn't like you at all, but he replied and was sweet back. Levi knew you so well because you'd been a couple since he joined and that'd been a few years now. You were incredibly strong together and he knew you were his soulmate.

He fixed his flowers in a vase as you carried on chatting happily while making tea. He approached you and called your name making you sweetly look at him. "What's going on?"

"I just..."

He picked you up making you squeak before carrying you to his sofa. He sat with you on his lap. "Talk to me. You're acting like you've got a painful shit."

You laughed at his comment. "You always know how to make me smile."

"I know my darling brat."

You released a long sigh and told him about the two girls. After a bit of silence, you spoke again. "I guess I'm just worried that maybe I'm too grumpy, or stoic, or quiet." You pulled at the straps on your thighs. "Maybe you want someone more fluffy." You sniffed back tears. "Someone positive and bouncy. Someone who is more present. I'm impossible to love like this."

He squeezed you. "So, you're not fluffy? I thought you were. You're my fluffy cuddly sweet brat that I always want to eat." He kissed your cheek before wiping your tears. "You're not impossible to love because I've been loving you all these years." He kissed you making you hum. "I love you, all of you." He clicked his tongue. "Tch, damn it brat I fell in love with the woman sitting on my lap right now. You are the most perfect woman for me."

Your eyes sparkled with tears. "Really?"

He cupped your face. "Yes. I don't like, brat. You know I'm blunt and honest." He wiggled your face. "I adore you for you. You dote on me so much. You're incredibly loving. You get me gifts, write me love letters, gift me flowers, cuddle me and give me a lot of kisses. You're always asking me if I'm okay and checking in on me. You communicate all the time and help me. You're my dream girl."

You hugged Levi tightly and hid your face. "You...you..."

He rubbed your back. "I've flustered you, right?"

"Mm."

He played with your hair. "Ignore those shitty girls, they're only talking about what they want in a partner. Their views are different to others. What I want in a partner is you. All of you. There is no one else for me."

"I love you, Levi."

"I love you too." He squeezed you as he said your name. "Don't ever change. Keep being your wonderful self."

Tags under cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @abiatackerman @minminroie @dreamerofthewest

[aventurineswife]

Hii so. Remember my fic that i requed that wa sintroverted business woman wife. Well just call her business woman cuz ill prolly request her refquently but anyway can you more dad avent fanfics where like theyre all watching a movie or something, young avgin eyeed daughter is on readers lap who is on avens lap when suddenly the 5 yr old asks the classic question how are babies made? And then reader gets flustered and looks at aven to answer and then you can take it from there

Tu<3

Planted with Love

Summary: On a quiet evening, Aventurine, you, and your young child enjoy a rare family moment watching a movie. The peaceful atmosphere is interrupted when your child innocently asks about where babies come from. Aventurine, with his usual charm and humor, spins a whimsical tale, explaining the process as planting a magical garden. Your child accepts the explanation with delight, leading to a warm, affectionate moment between the three of you.

Tags: Aventurine x Female!Reader, Family, Parenthood, Humor, Domesticity, Wholesome, Lighthearted, Parenting Moment.

The soft glow of the holo-screen illuminated the cozy living room, casting warm shadows over the plush furniture. Aventurine reclined against the corner of the wide sectional couch, exuding his usual air of casual elegance, though the setting was a rare glimpse of domesticity. You were perched comfortably on his lap, leaning back into his chest, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

Nestled between you two was the star of the evening—your child. With their wide eyes, the unmistakable mark of their Avgin heritage, and a curious mind that seemed to grow sharper with each passing day, they were their father’s match in wit and your match in stubbornness. Tonight, however, they were just a small bundle of sleepy wonder, curled up on your lap as the family enjoyed a rare quiet night watching one of their favorite animated films.

The movie was a cheerful, colorful escapade with just enough silly antics to keep them giggling. Aventurine’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your side while you combed your child’s hair, their peals of laughter bringing smiles to both your faces.

But then, as the protagonist declared their love for the princess in a triumphant finale, the question dropped like a bombshell.

“Mommy, Daddy,” they piped up in their sweet, inquisitive voice, tilting their head to look at you. “How are babies made?”

Your entire body tensed. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you froze in place, utterly unprepared. The room went silent except for the background music from the movie, and you could feel Aventurine’s chest shake slightly behind you, his silent laughter unmistakable.

“Uh…” you stammered, instinctively looking over your shoulder at Aventurine. “Darling, why don’t you take this one?”

His smile widened as his free hand came up to tap his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, a classic question. A rite of passage for all curious young minds.” His tone was amused, his voice smooth and confident as always, though you could sense the glimmer of mischief behind his words.

“Aventurine…” you hissed under your breath, your eyes narrowing as you gave his arm a light pinch.

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly so that he was at eye level with your child. “Well, little dove,” he began, his fingers still tracing patterns absentmindedly on your side, “making a baby is… a lot like planting a garden.”

Your brows shot up. What?

Your child’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “A garden?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a sagely nod, his expression completely serious, though you knew better than to take him at face value. “First, you need a special seed—something unique and rare. That’s where Mommy and Daddy come in. We each bring part of the seed, and together, we plant it in a very safe, warm place.”

Your child’s head tilted further, their tiny nose scrunching. “Like a pot?”

“Exactly!” Aventurine agreed, his grin widening as he gestured dramatically. “Except this pot is the most magical pot of all—Mommy’s tummy. And with lots of love and care, the seed grows into something extraordinary… like you.”

Your child beamed, clapping their hands together. “I’m a magical flower!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you as they accepted the whimsical explanation without question. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re the most magical flower in the whole world.”

“And the most beautiful,” Aventurine added, planting a light kiss on the top of their head before his lips brushed your temple. “Wouldn’t you agree, love?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, leaning into his affection. “Smooth as always,” you murmured, though you couldn’t deny the warmth that filled your chest.

Your child, now satisfied with the explanation, turned their attention back to the screen, leaving you and Aventurine to share a quiet moment amidst the flickering light of the holo-screen.

“That was surprisingly wholesome,” you admitted softly, your fingers lacing with his.

“Surprisingly?” he echoed with mock offense, feigning a wounded look. “Darling, you wound me. When have I ever given you reason to doubt my ability to handle delicate situations?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “Want me to start the list alphabetically or chronologically?”

His grin returned, unabashed. “You love me anyway.”

You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder, your heart full despite the teasing. “I do. Somehow.”

As the movie neared its end, your child’s eyes began to droop, their tiny hand clutching your shirt. Aventurine’s arm tightened around you both, his warmth a quiet reassurance. In moments like this, it didn’t matter how many gambles he had taken or how high the stakes were.

In this little corner of your world, Aventurine was your partner, your child’s father, and the man who had turned your life into something magical—just like the garden he’d so eloquently described.

[mickyschumacher]

[I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: it's been more than eight months since you and jobe broke up. that should be plenty of time to move on. but out of all the cafes in birmingham, you and jobe meet at your favourite on valentine's day.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, poor humour, slightly angsty but not really, reader is a student, mentions of a break up obviously, not much too do with the titular song sorryyy, incase it's not obvious, the fic goes in and out of the past (italics), honestly just two young kids in love

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jobe bellingham x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.5k

𝐀/𝐍: the fourth fic of my series! i thought this was the cutest one to write bc it's just young puppy love and i love everything about it. hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it!♡︎ // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were young. You had your whole life ahead of you. Or so everybody says. 

“Life’s too short to stay caught up in the past. Live in the present.” 

“There will always be someone better. Something better. Don’t reminisce about the past. Think about what will come to you.” 

But it’s because you were young...  how could you ever forget the first boy you ever fell in love with?  

Eight months and seven days ago, you broke up with Jobe (not that you were counting or anything.) Eight months was long, but it wasn’t that long. You could still feel his touch, his smell... feel him all around you. 

Some days were more difficult than others. The busier it was, the easier it was to forget that you were ever in a relationship. But sometimes, all it took was the notification of your phone to remind you.  

You stood outside a familiar scene, contemplating everything as you stared hard at the building. It was your café. Your and Jobe’s. The place where you and Jobe met. The place where you and Jobe hung out together every day because there was no other place like it.  

Your eyes fell to their sign board, red and pink chalk hearts capturing your attention as much as the lovely ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ sprawled across the black canvas.  

You really shouldn’t be here. Not today out of all days. But even though you had purposely gotten home through a different route to avoid this very café for the past eight months, your body seemed to remember.  

Trying not to think too much, you walked in, immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia.  

You hadn’t met Jobe at this point. You knew nothing about him. But the moment you had walked into the café, your eyes almost naturally diverted to the corner of the building. And there you were met with the most beautiful brown eyes you had ever seen.  

You didn’t know it yet, but it would soon become your favourite shade of brown in the world.  

Hesitantly, you looked over at the corner where it all began. You knew Jobe wouldn’t be there. But you couldn’t help being left with disappointment. The corner table was instead taken by a small family.  

Quietly, you peered at the cabinets of sweets. Pistachio croissants, red velvet cookies, lemon and lime cheesecakes... some of the staples of the café. You and Jobe had tried every single one of them, reviewing them in depth. Both of your favourites were the raspberry and white chocolate blondie. It was what you both chose when you first met. And to your rotten luck, you watched it get pulled onto a plate. With a small pout, your eyes followed the server, unable to look away from the dessert.  

But that was a minor distraction compared to the distraction waiting at the table being served. 

You think your eyes are deceiving you.  

That same shade of brown eyes stared back at you. Once upon a time, you were able to read them from afar. But you couldn’t remember how to. Was it disbelief? Doubt? Perhaps shock?  

You weren’t sure when or how, but your feet had managed to inch their way to his table.  

“Jobe,” you breathed out, unsure of how long it had been since you had last said his name. 

Jobe blinked, shaking his head slightly to break his trance. He cleared his throat, calling your name as he always called it. You remembered how he repeated it when you first introduced yourself to him... like he was already in love with you.  

He gestured to the chair next to you. “You can take a seat,” Jobe mumbled towards the end, hand scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.  

As you took a seat, you wanted to say something, hell anything, but you couldn’t find the words. You were pretty sure you were dreaming right now.  

“Do you want me to order you your coffee? Half strength cappuccino with cinnamon, right?” Jobe asked, standing up from his seat.  

“Oh–uh, just a hot chocolate, please,” you tightly smiled, fingers fidgeting underneath the table.  

You could see Jobe furrow his brows, wanting to say something but instead he nodded slowly and went towards the front till. As he ordered, you debated a little bit of everything.  

What were you doing right now? If you were indeed dreaming, was this a sign of some sort of identity crisis? Because dreaming about your ex on Valentine’s Day was a new low for you. If this is real, maybe you could sneak out of here. He probably wouldn’t notice. All you had to do was stand up and just– 

“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Jobe asked, taking his seat back in front of you.  

You pursed your lips. “Not really. I’m trying to lean off of it these days.” 

Jobe nodded again slowly, processing what you said. He didn’t know this part of you. All he knew of you was the year you spent together and the past you shared. This... it’s like he wasn’t caught up with you anymore. And he hated it.  

You disliked silence. It was a known fact. You always had. It was unbearable. Like a loud clock ticking over your shoulder. So, Jobe wasn’t surprised went you spoke up a few seconds after he had finished.  

“Mum asked about you the other day,” you blurted, eyes quickly  

The corners of Jobe’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah?” He queried, ears paying extra attention.  

You nodded, pulling on your sleeves. “She found your football boots in the garage. The blue ones. She said she misses you.” 

“I miss her too,” Jobe smiled softly. His eyes flickered out the window before coming back to you. “Do you?” 

You raised a brow, ignoring the thump of your heart in your chest. “Miss my mum?” You asked even though you knew that’s not what he meant. 

Jobe laughed to himself, resting in his chair comfortably. “You know what I mean.”  

You opened you mouth to speak as your large cup of hot chocolate was placed before you. Jobe watched you smile widely at staff, thanking them and God did it send his heart running.  

“If you had to choose, what is one thing you like about me?” Jobe queried, looking down at your face as you rested on his lap.  

You pretended to mull over the question even though you knew the answer. You just wanted to feel his hands in your hair for a little longer. “Your eyes,” you decided. 

“My eyes?” Jobe repeated, eyes already crinkling as his smile widened. “What’s so special about my eyes?”  

“They’re my favourite shade of brown. I love looking into them. They’re so warm and calm, filled with so much love and yet they make me so nervous,” you murmured, cheeks heating up as a comfortable silence fell between the both of you.   

Jobe couldn’t help but grin at your shy smile. He pushed the hairs out of your face, taking a good look at you. “Is that why you always look away?” 

Bingo. He had caught you red-handed.  

“Obviously,” you muttered, unable to look at him any longer. “If I could, I would stare at you for forever. But I can’t. So, I just do it when you can’t see,” you shrugged.  

Jobe smiled, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. “I love you,” he confessed. 

“Well,” you sighed, hands warming around your cup of hot chocolate. “You’ve never left my mind. Not that you ever could,” you admitted quietly.  

“I’ll take that,” Jobe sat forward, arms resting on the table. “You miss me,” he teased, smile widening.  

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink before you put in the marshmallows on the side. Mixing the cup gently, you watched Jobe push forward the raspberry and white chocolate blondie to towards you.  

“You’re first bite. Go on,” he nudged, nodding to the plate.  

You sighed, knowing very well he wasn’t going to start eating unless you did. You grabbed a spoon, taking the corner side of the blondie. As soon as it entered your mouth, you were positive you had died and gone to heaven. “Oh my God, how they do it?” You asked to no one particularly.  

Jobe, who had also grabbed a bite, nodded in agreement. “I know right? How they get the balance so good? Not too sweet and not too sour. We still haven’t figured out what white chocolate they use.” 

“My money’s still on Hamilton’s. Ooh, or maybe Montezumas! Their chocolate buttons were so good the last time you brought them,” you pointed out, still mulling over the thought.  

Jobe stared at you quietly, watching everything fall back to its normal pace for a brief second. The one where you talked and he listened. The one where he absorbed as much of you as he could.  

“What about me?” You asked, turning your head gently to the side. “What’s one thing you like about me?” 

Jobe’s fingers slowly caressed your face as he pretended to think because he also knew his answer. “Everything,” he softly responded.

Your brows furrowed. “Everything? That’s not one thing,” you complained, reaching out to hit his shoulder gently. 

A laugh fell from Jobe’s lips. “It is,” he maintained, “everything about you makes me nervous. Every time I look at you, your smile, your eyes, your kindness... your essence makes me feel like the whole world is collapsing.” 

Reality hit, however, when Jobe recalled your breakup. Eight months and seven days ago (not that he was counting either), you both had reached a breaking point.  

You both knew it was coming. The past few days had been tense. You hadn’t seen each other as much. Jobe could barely see you smile and he hated it. And the warmth in Jobe’s eyes were replaced with exhaustion.  

You were both sat in your room in silence. Another thing you usually hated but it seemed you were trying resist it, allowing minutes to pass.  

“I think we should break up.” 

Your voice, although quiet, was resounding. It was like you had announced it in a stadium. It was echoing back to your ears and making your heart beat thud and your hands clammy.  

“I...” Jobe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to agree with you. But he knew it was right.  

You let out a tired sigh. “Jobe, how long are we going to go on like this? Hmm? How long are we going to pretend our lives aren’t in the way of our relationship? You’re always at training. And I’m always studying. I can’t reschedule another date... another birthday.” 

Jobe closed his eyes at your words. His body burned with anger and annoyance. He had rescheduled your birthday dinner not once, not twice but four times because he had training.  

You understood Jobe. He was new to Sunderland and he didn’t want to mess anything up. Not with him carrying the Bellingham name. Not with all the eyes watching him. But even that had a limit.  

“I don’t think this is our time, Jobe,” you croaked, throat breaking as hot tears welled up in your eyes.  

Jobe could feel his heart shatter. He hated seeing you sad. Fuck, he hated it so much. But the truth was loud in his ears.  

He couldn’t make you happier. He couldn’t make the time. 

You couldn’t compromise any longer. You couldn’t make the time. 

“Wouldn’t it be so funny if the chocolate was from Sainsbury or Aldi’s or something?” You joked, bringing Jobe back to reality once again.  

Jobe looked at you quietly before blurting, “I’m sorry.” 

You paused, smile dropping off of your face. “Huh? All of a sudden?” 

Jobe sighed before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I never made time for you. I’m sorry for rescheduling your damn birthday out of all things. And most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us more.” 

You sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting your heart to ache so abruptly. You tried looking into his eyes, but all you could do was focus on the floating marshmallows in your hot chocolate, all slowly disappearing. 

Your eyes burned on the brink of crying but for some odd reason... you couldn’t. 

“Do you know what it means to live, Jobe?” 

Your question sent Jobe into a flurry of confusion. “I don’t... I, uh–” 

“To live life is to be in the moment. To take joy and sorrow in all we have. Living means to never take anything for granted.” You breathed in, slowly moving your eyes to his. There it was. Your favourite shade of brown. No exhaustion in sight. Just warmth, calm... love. 

“I don’t think I started living until I met you.” 

Jobe couldn’t help but sit back and truly take you in. Your eyes shook, clearly nervous, but you voice was firm, clear on what you had said. He was sure there’d be times in the future, but right now, you were making him the most nervous he had ever been in his entire life.  

You looked like love.  

You looked like the love of his life–heck, you were love of his life.  

“These past eight months... listen, I know the last few days before our break up sucked but,” your breath hitched while tears officially began welling in your eyes, “these eight months and seven days have been miserable.” 

Jobe couldn’t help but laugh softly at your words as he bent forward, wiping away your stray tears. You had also been counting.  

“I’m in love with you,” Jobe confessed, hand caressing your cheek, “I always have been. And I always will. Please give us, me, a second chance.” 

Your eyes softened at his words, mouth about to open to respond when his voice cut you off. “Unless you’re in a relationship–shit, wait, I forgot to ask you that. You aren’t, are you? Not in like a bad way because like people would be crazy not to ask you out but–” 

“Jobe!” You interrupted; eyes wide with amusement. You could hear him go quiet making you laugh softly to yourself. “I’m not in a relationship,” you confirmed.  

A big sigh of relief fell from Jobe’s lips, shoulders dropping now that he was tension-free. He sat back in his chair, muttering something about how thankful he was to the universe.  

You cleared your throat, gaining his attention once again. “And for the record...” You started, grabbing his hand from across the table. Instantly, he tightened his grip around, afraid you’d let go. “I’d love to give us a second chance. And I promise I’ll make time. We’ll figure this out together, hmm?” 

Those lovely brown eyes you had fallen in love with shone and you doubt anyone would believe you, but you think he’s on the brink of crying. Jobe smiled, holding your hands close to him. “Does this count as a second date?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You better be joking,” you teased.  

“But this is where we first met!” Jobe retorted, grin playing on his lips. 

You furrowed your brows. “What were you doing here anyways? It’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“Honestly?” Jobe asked, receiving your nod. “I was going to cheer myself up with this raspberry blondie. And then I saw you.”  

You smiled widely. “It’s like the first day we met all over again.” 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 

[rairecs]

title: so i told a friendly star (the way dreamers often do author: dwaekinyz rating: teen pairing: lee felix/seo changbin summary:

yong.lixxx i keep thinking about ur biceps  do u think i could get. A picture of them to stimulate the release of endorphins jutdwae dude  yong.lixxx i swear im normal jutdwae i thought so a second ago now im having my doubts

Desperate for a pick-me-up after a truly shitty day, Felix asks Changbin for pictures of his biceps to feel a bit better. Does it say something about Changbin that he finds the thought of it kind of sweet?

link

[tmos-time]

the amount of times i think about eridan finding excuses to call sollux darlin' or sweetheart astounds me <3 anyways day 1 prompt of honey for this years @erisolweek lmao

(and as a bonus, my favorite thumbnail sketches of eridan <3)

[feroluce]

I've been yapping at a new friend a lot lately about Boothill & Rappa; she described them as "sidekicks in chaos" and! Yes! Finally!Someone else gets it! They're SO cute and so sweet, I adore them. They speak so highly about each other and they have a lot of respect between them! I love them being friends!

With the way Rappa calls him Lord (vs Ninja for everyone else) and how much she openly admires and mimics him, I'd like to think Boothill was the one that showed her the ropes when she was first brought into the Galaxy Rangers. Mentor/mentee and teacher/student are too strong of labels for how I see them, though.

Rappa and Boothill are like a college senior taking the new little freshman under their wing. Or the much older and more experienced coworker trying to look out for the fresh-faced little newbie who's just entering the workforce.

As for how they met and became friends in the first place, I like to imagine it was a case of Boothill's soft heart and being unable to turn a blind eye to things. ☆

Like Boothill wasn't on the mission where the Galaxy Rangers found Rappa, he was off on his own Hunt at the time. But given that the Galaxy Rangers have a leader (La Mancha) and they do seem to have some kind of organized efforts, I wonder if there's any kind of secret hq, or at least certain places where they tend to congregate, like how the Masked Fools have their taverns. Anyway.

Boothill maybe sees Rappa for the first time at one of these hqs (he came back when he heard there'd been a major breakthrough with Dr. Primitive). Or he maybe just happens to run into that Galaxy Ranger from 2.6 that initially found her, who then just. Wasn't really sure what to do with her after the raid. Boothill walks in all these Rangers sitting around like "well now what" because none of them actually expected Rappa to survive the memetic virus. Honestly, her brain should have fried.

Either way, Boothill comes across her by total coincidence. But I think he'd have a lot of sympathy for her because like. Aeragan-Epharshel had been an uncontacted planet before the IPC came around. And since they were there to fuck the place up, they definitely didn't expose the natives to the rest of the cosmos. To say that Boothill "left" the planet is a massive underestimation- he didn't just leave, he escaped. And when he got out, he was completely alone, with very little idea how the rest of the world worked or how to get by.

And right now, Rappa is much the same.

She doesn't know anything beyond the lab she was held captive in all her life. There's no way they would have allowed her to learn that kind of stuff, and I'm sure Kucha wouldn't have told her out of kindness. It would be cruel to taunt her with things she couldn't have.

So someone needs to teach her The Ways of the World! It's just a matter of deciding who.

Boothill: ...What're you morons doing.

The Rangers, in the middle of a very intense rock-paper-scissors tournament:

And Boothill likes these people. He really does! ...Ok, except that one guy. He's kind of a prick. But the rest of them are at least mostly decent! But he wouldn't trust them to keep a pool, let alone a whole human being. If he lets this girl go with any of these dumbasses, there's no way she'll make it. So Boothill smacks them around a bit and announces fine, he'll show the new girl how to be a Galaxy Ranger! If any of them have a problem with this, feel free to make complaints to his revolver ☆

Rappa watches all this go down with stars in her eyes, because Boothill is just like the heroes in her manga! Wow! So cool!

(When it came time to actually leave though, Rappa made some sad eyes at the Ranger from 2.6 that actually found her- for better or worse, she got a little attached. The Ranger told her to go on! Go! Just get out of here!

It's very important to imagine this like a movie where the kid frees the wild animal they bonded with skhzksksjk)

Afterwards, Boothill does actually take Rappa aside and ask if she even wants to be a Ranger. If she doesn't, it's fine. The Galaxy Rangers do a lot of charity work, and everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. They'll find somebody that can help her figure things out and get settled. She can have an actual life now.

Rappa gives a passionate speech (that Boothill catches about 50% of sdlkfjasdl) about how she wants nothing more. She'd wanted it before she even knew the name for it. This was what she'd dreamed of, laying across the bed in Kucha's room, reading through his manga collection for the nth time.

Kucha isn't with her anymore. He'd died just to get her out of there. But she can take the opportunity he gave her and make the most of it. She can still keep her dream alive.

So yes, Rappa wants to be a Ninja Hero. Please teach her!

(Boothill: Bein' a Galaxy Ranger ain't easy shirt. Ya gotta be able to hold yer own in a fight. Can ya even do that?

And then Rappa fucking suplexed him and Boothill was like ok so the first parta bein' a Galaxy Ranger is- JSJJSJDKSK)

They're mentioned together so much outside of the main game, too. So I'd like to think even after Boothill passed on to Rappa all the street smarts he could, they still remained pretty friendly, and make the time and effort to meet up whenever they pass nearby. They just ended up getting along so well!

Like no, they don't see each other very often. They're each on their own separate Hunt. Galaxy Rangers still largely work alone. But they're the kind of buddies that can still happily greet each other the same even after months of not speaking. ♡

(Clutching my heart imagining Boothill telling Rappa she is now a full-fledged Ninja Hero, and she is now strong enough to make her solo journey! But he does give her his phone number. And he tells her that if she's in trouble- like real, real bad trouble- call him. Call him and he'll come runnin', to any corner of the galaxy, ok?)