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lunaroserites · 1 month

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Art and Ice - Nicknames

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: Bucky and MC meet officially for the first time!

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. Mention of drugs (No use, just a couple comments). Fighting, and mentions of attempted drugging at a party.

Word Court: 2957

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“I can’t do this,” You groaned looking down at the few sketches you’ve managed to produce since you refused to step foot back into the hockey arena again. You could feel the pit you were falling into already growing, and it was all because of a certain fluffy haired, sea-blue eyed hockey player.

“You can do this and you will do this darling,” Loki drawled out as he spoke with a hint of annoyance. He was laying down with his leg dangled off the side of the fountain in the student commons, an open area full of windows and natural light. His other leg was propped up and bent at the knee which you were using as a back rest. You side eyed him begrudgingly.

“This is awful,” you leaned your head back against his knee.

“Well don’t look now, but awful just entered the commons,” you followed Loki’s gaze and noticed Barnes and a couple of the other players entering the area. A couple girls were making their way over to them as they placed their bags down and sat at a bar table. Barnes' eyes swept the commons and caught your gaze, he stopped and squinted and you looked down instantly.

He nudged Wilson with his elbow, who made an annoyed noise, “what Bucky?” Bucky tipped his chin in your direction, Wilson’s eyes followed and he stared for a couple seconds. “Wait, is that the girl from the rink?” Bucky nodded, thinking the same thing. He couldn’t get your eyes out of his head, they were so expressive from the few glimpses he had of them. “She’s hanging out with Odinson’s brother,” the younger Odinson was usually present at the parties his brother threw but rarely participated in anything. Usually hiding away in a corner or in his room reading.

“I think so,” Bucky stood and threw his bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Wilson hissed.

“To say hello,” Bucky gave him his dazzling smile.

Loki noticed Barnes coming toward you two before you did, your head was down as you focused on the drawing you were working on, “trouble is heading our direction,” Loki said lowly, you looked up without lifting your head and saw Barnes striding in your direction. You swallowed thickly and kept your head down, he might just be walking in this direction for another reason. He couldn’t pick you out in a crowd, impossible, he only saw you twice.

“Excuse me,” your dreams were dashed as you saw the toes of his shoes and his frame created a shadow over your sketchbook. “I couldn’t help but notice you were at the rink a week ago,” he said, “and I know every pretty girl that hangs out there, can’t say I know you,” he said with an air of arrogance. You scoffed at him, side eyeing Loki who had his book covering his mouth, but you could feel the slight tremble from his contained amusement.

“I think you’re mistaken,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I don’t think so, you have the same hair and,” his hand snatched the sketch book from you. “Sketch book,” you jumped startled at the sudden invasion of privacy.

“Hey give that back,” you snapped harshly. Reaching to take the book back, he kept it from your reach easily. You stood now and pushed his outstretched hand out of the way to grab the book from his other hand. Your chest pressed up against his as you reached desperately for the sketchbook. “I said give it back.”

“Ah baby, don’t be like that,” your nose scrunched up and you narrowed your eyes at him, he had a playful expression on his face and his eyes were gleaming with mischief as he gazed down at you.

“I’m not your baby,” you said sternly. “And give me my sketchbook back please, now.” You seethed. His eyes flicked to you for a moment before flicking to the open drawing.

“You know that certainly looks like me, I know I have admirers. But no one has ever drawn me,” he mused as he continued to keep the book from your grasp. You looked at Loki who was already sitting up and standing.

“Give it back to her Barnes,” Loki's tone was tense, and stern. “She asked you nicely.”

Barnes' eyes snapped from the book to Loki in an instant and he turned to fully face Loki. They stood at the same height, but Barnes was stockier. “What are you gonna do about it Odinson,” Barnes taunted.

“Don’t be a child. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” Loki said in a tone with underlying intent. “You don’t need the coach to hear about another incident,” Loki said knowingly. You watched the tense exchange between the two men with wide eyes, the tension palpable. A few more tense seconds and Barnes relented, lifting his hands up in mock surrender.

“Whatever prick,” Barnes spat at Loki. “You ever want to have some real fun, you know where to find me sugar” he winked and handed the sketch book to Loki and looked at you once more, his eyes roving over your body. Your eyes widened at his choice of words, taken slightly back by how hostile he became when Loki intervened.

Loki handed you back your sketchbook before putting a hand on your back and leading you the opposite direction of Barnes, you looked over your shoulder quickly before picking up the pace to match Loki.

Once sufficiently far away from the commons you stopped and looked up at Loki.

“What was that?” You asked. You know Loki knew Bucky, hell you’d seen him at Thor’s parties before. Usually you would be in Loki's room with him when you attended them, disliking them as much as he did.

“Barnes being Barnes,” Loki said with a slightly annoyed tone. “He’s got a rap sheet. One more complaint or misbehavior and he’s benched for the rest of the season,” Loki stated. “That doesn’t look great for an NHL prospect.” You nodded as you listened to him speak.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you hugged your sketch pad to your chest.

“It’s no problem darling,” he said back sweetly. “Now, you need to get back to the rink and get your project together.” You huffed and groaned.

“You had to ruin it,” you whined and threw your head back. “I’ll go with Nat to the next practice,” you relented and stared up at Loki.

Loki smiled and patted the top of your head “perfect darling.” You glared at him for a moment before shaking your head.

~The next day~

You sighed as Nat dragged you to the rink, making sure you had the appropriate clothing on this time so you couldn’t duck out randomly.

“This is the worst,” you groaned as you sunk into the hard plastic seats and covered your face with your hands.

“Stop whining, it’s fine,” Nat sat next to you and smiled at Clint who skated up to the glass. He waved at her and you before skating backwards, showing off. Nat was like a giggly school girl as she watched him. You rolled your eyes and smirked at her.

You propped your sketch pad on the arm of the seat and hunched over to draw. Your eyes trained on the skates as the players drifted by. The movement of the blades over the ice was incredible. You had stayed up and researched how the skating part actually worked, “Nat? Did you know the reason they glide like that?” You said absently as you focused on the sketch you're doing. She hummed in acknowledgment, “the blade of skate melts a very thin layer of the surface ice and they glide on the water from the melt,” you muttered.

“Interesting, no I didn’t,” Nat said back as she watched her man snipe a puck into the net. You were watching as well, sketching the stick as he flicked it effortlessly and the puck soaring through the air. Silence fell over you two once again as you focused on the paper before you.

That silence was quickly ruined by someone slamming into the boards in front of you and you yelped in surprise. You squinted at the body in front of you and then glared at him. Barnes. He was saying something but you couldn’t quite hear him, pointing to your ear and then shrugging to indicate you couldn’t hear him. He made some obscene gestures before skating away. You rolled your eyes and went back to drawing once again.

Then someone else banged on the glass making it shake. You looked up and glared, but this time it wasn’t Barnes, his teammate, “Wilson,” Nat said as you stared at him.

Wilson was pointing toward the center of the rink where Barnes was skating effortlessly, moving beautifully on the ice. He moved the puck back and forth quickly causing the defenceman to stumble and he scored on the net. He lifted his hand up in the air and spun on one foot. He pointed his gloved hands at you, you rolled your eyes in response.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes' movement was too captivating to not want to draw. “He might be a prick, but damn he can skate,” Nat voiced your thoughts.

“He’s handsome too,” you regretted the words the second they spilled out. Nat turned her head and raised her brow at you, a sly smile on her lips. “No, I don’t mean I think he’s handsome. He’s just you know, got that natural handsomeness to him,” you stammered. “Oh god, I’m making it worse,” you buried your face in your hands. Nat laughed a deep bellied laugh while patting your shoulder.

“No, you’re right. He’s handsome. And he knows it. That makes it worse,” Nat said, her tone a little sour. You nodded in agreement, he then flew past you two, you both rolled your eyes.

Practice ended and you followed Nat to the wait for Clint. She asked you to join them for pizza after practice. Standing in a hallway that leads to the locker room you were showing her what you drew that night.

“Ah, my number one admirer,” his voice rang out, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Did you get my good side,” he asked. You rolled your eyes at him for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

“You only have good sides,” a whiny voice said and you cringed. Nat mirroring your expression but being much more subtle you’re sure.

“Hey babe,” Clint said as he wrapped his arm around Nat and kissed her temple. “Barnes,” he tipped his head toward his teammate.

“Barton,” Barnes said back, “you gonna introduce me to your friend?”

“Uh, she’s Nat's friend,” Clint said.

You shook your head and dismissed Clint with a smile.

“My name is…”

“I like Bunny,” Barnes cut you off suddenly. “I don’t do names for pretty ladies,” he stated. The girl hanging off his arm made a disgruntled noise and looked taken back by his open flirtation while she was right there. You felt a little bad for her.

“Nuh uh, I’m not one of those puck bunnies,” your eyes flicked to the girl hanging off his arm apologetically.

“Never said you were Sketch,” you scrunch your nose at the nickname.

“Original,” you sassed.

“I’ll figure one out,” he affirmed, you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

“God you’re insufferable,” you muttered, glowering at him.

“Is he always like that?” You asked as you sat down across from Nat and Clint in the booth at the pizza place. It was a local spot, well loved by the students that populated the town.

“Barnes?” Clint as he took a bite of his pizza, you nodded.

“Yeah, he’s all talk. He’s practically harmless,” you raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Off the ice, he’s hell on it.” You nodded. “So what’s the project you’re working on?” He asked.

“Movement, human movement. My art prof has a vendetta against me so I’m trying to go outside the box. Pietro offered to let me do the project on him at the track. But Prof. Grace would just say I made the safe choice,” I groaned. “And football season is over so I couldn’t do it on Thor.” Clint was familiar with Peitro and Wanda since they hung around Nat, same as Thor since the sports teams tended to run in the same circles outside games.

“Right, your roommates,” he nodded. You lived with Wanda and Pietro since the start of university, being you were good friends with them. You had met Nat your first year and subsequently met Clint when they started dated that same year. “You’re friends with Thor's brother aren’t you?” You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, best friends since middle school,” you nodded. “So by extension I’ve known Thor and Hela since then as well,” you added afterwards.

“Why did you pick hockey?” You shrugged.

“Nat suggested I come and watch a practice. You guys move so fluidly on the ice it was easy to draw,” you answered simply, eating another piece of pizza. “And frustratingly Barnes is incredibly talented and moves beautifully, I might have to ask him if I can make him my focus,” you groaned and rubbed your temples. “But he’s insufferable.”

Clint let out a loud laugh at that and nodded, “he can be. He’s honestly not that bad once you can get past the jock personality.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s like saying cocaine isn’t bad once you get past the cocaine,” you laughed. “I’m pretty sure the jock personality is just him.”

“Eh, he’s cocky, but he’s earned it. He’s pretty damn good,” Clint said.

The rest of the evening passed quickly as conversation drifted from the brunette that had been clouding your thoughts.

“Thanks for the lift,” you waved as Clint and Nat drove away. You quickly climbed the steps to your flat and entered.

“Wanda, Pietro?” You called as you dropped your keys in the bowl at the entrance.

“Living room princessa,” Pietro called sweetly.

“What’s you guys watching?” You asked as you walked into the living, stripping your jacket off.

“Silent hill,” Wanda answered.

“The one with Kit Harington?” She nodded, you smiled and joined them on the couch.

“How was practice?” Wanda asked softly.

“It was good, I’m going to ask Barnes if I make him the focus. And I think a bullet in the thigh would be easier to deal with than him,” you sighed leaning your head back against the couch. “I was considering asking Loki to come with me when I asked him. But I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore,” you muttered.

“Why's that?” Pietro asked.

“They seem to have some kinda beef,” you shrugged. “He wouldn’t get into it,” you said. “Bucky’s a player, Loki isn’t a fan of that. And he’s been around him at parties. He’s apparently one incident away from being benched for the season.” Pietro seemed to nod knowingly.

“I’m not surprised, he’s a bit hot headed. Gotten into a few fights with people. Usually with good intentions though. Seen him knock a dude out flat on his ass for trying to drug a girl at a party. He also tends to back-talk instructors,” Pietro said. “He doesn’t seem like a bad dude. A little cocky and a bit of a flirt. Seems harmless enough.” You nodded at Pietro’s explanation and watched the rest of the movie with them in silence.

You texted Loki to ask why he didn’t like Bucky. Curiosity getting the better of you. His answer came back in a couple short paragraphs.

He seems like trouble.

Like he can’t be stable for one week.

He looks down on the arts pretty openly as well. Well at least English.

And he was rude to Helena as well a couple times.

You nodded as you read the series of texts. Loki was pretty traditional and he was never a fan of bouncing from one girl to another. Bucky was very open about doing that.

He also gets pretty obnoxious at parties.

He’s had a few scandals as well. Skipping out on one girl to be with another. Bit of a womanizer.

Why?

You quickly typed back you were curious because he was mostly likely going to be the focus for your project.

I figured he would. Guys a prick but he’s good at what he does.

Everyone said that. From what you’ve seen he was pretty good at hockey, not that you could judge that very well. But there was more to life than a sport. You typed a quick thanks back and wished Loki a goodnight.

Wanda and Pietro both went to bed and you stayed curled up on the couch. You decided to do some research yourself. Typing Bucky’s name into the search engine, his stats came up, and few hockey related awards he’s won. Some articles about how good of a prospect he was. His draft position whatever that meant. Him and Steve were drafted together from what you could tell.

Then you saw a Reddit thread from your school's Reddit talking about him, the fights he’s been in, his lack of care for academics and some people fighting about him being their boyfriend and how he was a cheating piece of shit. He apparently got into an altercation with someone on the Polo team and he and the captain of your school's rival hockey team got into a pretty bad fight after a game last year.

Your eyes widened as you read about the fight Pietro mentioned, he was lucky the guy's family didn’t press charges from how badly Bucky beat him. Part of you knew that behavior wasn’t acceptable, but a smaller needy part of you found it insanely hot how far he went to protect the girl the dude tried to drug. You shook your head and closed the search and went to bed. You would ask him tomorrow after practice, which Nat was dragging you too again.

Taglist: @vicmc624

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

Chapter 3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college au #bucky barns fanfiction #hockey fic #college fic

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fflewddur-feanorion · 4 months

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Elf (T. A. 2957)

#tolkien #silmarillion #aragorn #boromir #elf (2003)#comic

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monstersandmaw · 8 months

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So I've just read the entirety of Gabe and Odessa's story for the first time today.

Ghosti. It's so good wtf. I don't have the words to tell you how much I adore those two idiots in love and all the sweetness and fluff that surrounds them.

I am astonished. Positively befuddled. Absolutely and undoubtedly stunned by how beautifully written everything is.

Thank you so much for sharing all that hard work with us.

Thank you???? SO MUCH???? FOR THIS??????? :D :D

Here's a WIP of Gabe's POV from the 'between seasons interlude' thing I worked on, as a thank you, and hopefully a treat?

Contents: shifting, pining, mention of mating/true mates, estranged family, and fluff Wordcount: 2957

The shift was already prickling along his skin the moment her little red VW was out of sight through the trees.

Thunder sensed it first, going tense before herding Axel gently away from the metal fence and chuffing at Mia to follow. For once, they both obeyed without question, and Gabe’s awareness of them faded.

A series of tiny tremors skittered through his muscles and he snarled as a frisson of pain shot up his spine. He needed to get out of sight of the main road and into the woods, but each step he took away from the direction she’d gone felt like he was being torn apart. His wolf was screaming at him to chase after her, throwing itself against the walls of his mind in desperation to make right whatever he’d done wrong, and no amount of human reasoning that she had just been there on holiday would placate it. Wolves didn’t understand time the way humans did and he found no way to convince his wolf that this wasn’t goodbye forever; that he’d see her again in no time.

Her.

Odessa.

His mate.

That did make him pause, with one foot through the front door, the other still out on the veranda.

He’d mated her.

After leaving the city at just shy of nineteen, he’d spent the intervening fourteen years never expecting to mate anyone, and in less time than a single cycle of the moon after meeting her, he’d mated her.

“Fuck.”

Gabe’s eyes rolled closed and he clutched the doorframe as real, genuine pain lanced through his chest at the growing physical distance between them, and he let out a muted grunt through clenched teeth. He was bound to her for life, and he’d chickened out of telling her what he’d done. “You moon-damned idiot,” he snarled at himself, kicking his legs back into action and slamming the front door shut behind him so hard it made the OS map on the wall to his right vibrate. “You bloody well should have told her.”

He’d told himself that he was holding off telling her because he hadn’t wanted her to feel obliged to stay with him in any way, and while that was the case, he knew he had also just been a coward about it. He might have been certain of his feelings for her, but he had a wolf’s instinct to rely on. She was human, and she deserved the time to make up her own mind about him.

Silently, as he levered off his boots and crossed the living room that still smelled of pancakes and strawberries and of Odessa, he vowed to tell her the next time he saw her face to face. Mating wasn’t like a human marriage ceremony, where it was fundamentally just words, no matter how earnestly they were spoken. This was something that went down to his bones, that bound him to her forever, and he’d chosen it after only two weeks of knowing her. She was his One though. He’d known it the moment he’d looked at her in the Centre and her wide, dark eyes had skated down his body in a way he’d almost been able to feel like a physical touch. There would never be another for him now, no matter what.

The wolf paced and snarled about in his head and in his heart, and he knew there was no way to silence it now. With the moon this close and his mate drawing further and further away, he was facing a shift whether he wanted to or not.

He just about managed to get his clothes off before the cramping began in his shoulders and back, and he pitched forwards onto his hands and knees to let the shift sweep over him in the middle of his living room. God, the last time he’d done this, abandoned himself to the shift, he’d mated her. Just the memory of sinking his knot into her wet heat was enough to make him howl and forget the pain of the transformation.

When it was over, he was out the back door and halfway through the wolf-dog enclosure before he had even realised it. Thunder kept the others back, physically penning them into the den, and Gabe lifted his lip to warn him to stay put. Thunder dropped his head and licked his lips in submissive understanding, and let him go without asking to come along.

Mud beneath his paws, claws digging into the soft, cold earth. Damp air filling his nose. Pine needles. Deer scent.

South.

Run.

Find her.

He drew up short at the edge of an open meadow and stood stock still apart from his heaving chest.

A fly buzzed past his ear and he twitched it in irritation.

This was too close to being feral. Spooked by that realisation, he shook himself and forced himself to take a step back, to think.

I am not an animal. I am a wolf, but I am a man.

Mate.

Find her.

Again, he shook his head, snapping and snarling.

Think.

His mind was like the mud of the forest behind him — cloying and slow.

He skirted the forest at a steady lope, still on all fours since it was easier to run like that despite his slightly longer hind legs, and as he turned instinctively south west, he realised where he was going. The road cut through a rocky pass that was blanketed in thick trees, and if he was careful about it, he might be able to get there before Odessa’s little red car did. He could watch her.

He knew it was stupid and reckless and dangerous, but the wolf leapt at the thought of catching up to their mate, as though it had become a game of long-distance tag.

They did make it to the promontory before her, and when that red VW trundled into view, he lifted his nose to the sky and howled in triumph. The car didn’t stop though. It didn’t slow, and the sound died in his throat. She didn’t know he was there. She couldn’t sense him the way he could feel her, like a tug on his soul.

The wolf lay down on the rock with his muzzle on his paws and watched the car vanish for a second time. The day drifted by, and he didn’t stir for hours. He felt the moon rising though — another tug in his chest like the pull of his mate, only even more primal — and he threw back his head again and sang his heartache out to her like a child crying to his mother. The moon had always been there for him, in a way his own mother never had been. Ruth Kirkbride was a hard woman, all sharp angles and cutting words, even when her boys had been young children, but the moon was soft curves and gentle guidance, and he lost himself to the wolf that night for the first time in years.

When he woke up, it was to the sound of a car engine and running water, and he panicked. Looking around, he found a small, human building made from cut trees. A cabin.

Shit, he thought, realising exactly what he’d done. His wolf had brought him to the place where his mate’s scent was strongest and he’d lain like an oversized hound outside the door, waiting for her to come back.

And now someone was here to tend to the cabin and ready it for the next visitors. He growled. They were going to destroy her scent with chemicals that burned his nose, and —

Hide!

The wolf took him into the trees in a swirl of dark fur and he lay low in the bracken, just as he had that first night when he’d glimpsed Odessa through the pines in the dark. Except the person who drove up to the cabin and got out of the 4x4 was not Odessa. It was Tala. He backed away and skirted many miles around to avoid her, following the soft calling of Thunder’s warm baritone, checking in. He lifted his muzzle while he paused to lap at another fast-flowing stream and, with his chops still running with icy water, he told them he was coming back.

Slinking back into his house like a thief, Gabe felt ashamed of himself. He forced the shift to ripple through him the moment he was indoors and he hobbled upstairs to run himself a bath. Odessa’s scent filled the bedroom and he considered climbing into bed and losing himself in it for a while, but he knew he should wash the mud off his hands and feet and make himself feel human again. The wolf was angry and brooding, unsettled by the absence of his mate from the den, and confused about why they weren’t going after her.

Gabe phoned in sick after his bath and curled up under the sheets, burying his nose in Odessa’s pillow before exhaustion claimed him and he slept the rest of the day away. It was only the yipping rebukes of Mia that brought him to consciousness again, and after nuzzling once more at Odessa’s pillow and filling his lungs with the scent of her, he got up, dressed, and went to take proper care of his dogs.

Life resumed its pattern after that, though it was hard to keep his focus. It got better when he acquired a smartphone and had an engineer come out to install internet at his cabin. Odessa’s answering selfie had taken him off guard, and when he hit video-call it had gone a long way to quieting his pacing wolf once more. She looked happy and safe. Jake had not resurfaced. She’d been out with her friends, who were apparently dying to meet him and had teased her endlessly about falling in love like it was a Hallmark movie.

She was also looking at job options, but she seemed a little cagey about the details, so he left that subject alone for the time being and made a note to ask Carys if she knew of anything that might appeal to Odessa in the area. The park service must need some kind of legal team, though he was embarrassed to admit to himself that he had no idea what that might involve. He knew the woods and how they worked, but much beyond that was a foggy mystery to him. Until Odessa, he’d never had any reason to think much about it.

A week after Odessa had returned to the city, he opened his piece of shit laptop and began an email to his brother. It took eleven drafts and three complete re-writes to get something he was confident about, and before he lost his nerve completely, he hit send at 2:03am.

Raph,

It’s been a while, I know. Somehow it’s almost Christmas and the last email you had from me was back in the spring. I hope you’re doing ok. I think about you a lot.

Something’s happened in my life lately that’s made me rethink a lot of stuff, and I know I’ve not been the brother I maybe used to be, and certainly not the brother you deserved, and I truly am sorry for that. We were out of touch for so long, and when we started to email again all those years later, it was all so distant and cold. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I never expected to find someone out here that I wanted to share my life with, but it’s happened all the same. I met someone while she was visiting, and she’s my One, Raph. I know it. We’re mated. She lives in the city though, and for the time being, we have to do distance. It’s been rough, but I’m handling it better than I thought I would. We talk every day, which helps.

I know I don’t have any right to ask you for favours, but I have one to ask of you anyway. I’d like to visit my mate for a weekend, but you know as well as I do that I’ll have to speak to mother first. Would you advocate for me if it becomes necessary? I don’t want to interfere with the pack — I don’t intend to see anyone or involve myself with pack business while I’m visiting at all, though if you wanted to meet somewhere neutral, I’d love that.

Let me know your answer when you can.

Gabe

Less than a day later, Raph had replied.

Gabe,

I could hardly believe my eyes when I read your last email. It’s always good to hear from you again, though I was surprised to hear that you’re mated! She must be one hell of a woman. Can’t promise she’ll let you stay, but if you need someone in your corner, Gabe, you have me. When are you planning to come? Let me know and I’ll set something formal up for you with mother. She won’t like it, but she’ll at least have to give you an audience.

Raph

Relief flooded through him so violently that his vision swam and he sat back against the soft sofa cushions, dizzy. The fans on his brick of a laptop whirred and for a moment he wondered if the sound was in his own skull it was so loud. His heart thudded and the early morning light felt far too bright against his eyes. Outside, snow had piled up on the gravel and on the roof of his house, insulating it like a proper den in the winter, and the wolf-dogs were loving the snowfall. He could hear Mia already haring around the enclosure, snapping at snowflakes and careering to a sliding halt, face first, ass in the air as she troughed through the snow like a pig in mud. Even Axel was enjoying himself.

Did Odessa like the snow? The realisation that he had no idea suddenly pained him, and he shook himself. That discovery could wait. Hitting her contact info in his recent calls list, he was three rings in when he realised it was six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, but it was too late now. She answered blearily, the phone camera struggling in the dark room, and his heart clenched at the sight of her looking so sweetly dishevelled and sleepy.

“Morning,” he grinned apologetically.

“What?” she frowned, squinting in the light of her phone as she fumbled for the light beside her. “What is it?”

“I’ve been emailing my brother,” he said. That got her attention, and he smiled as she came more sharply awake.

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Raph said he’ll advocate for me. I’d… I’d like to come and see you…” he said, trying to ignore the fact that his sudden burst of courage and elation was sputtering out like a guttering candle flame. “If that’s still alright?” If she was having second thoughts about having him there, it would crush him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it off his face.

“Alright?” she practically shrieked at him, grinning so that her cheeks bunched up in a way that made him want to hold them in his hands.

She scrabbled around like an upturned spider, flailing with one hand get the duvet out of the way, and revealed her adorable cupcake pyjamas in the process. The neckline sank down to reveal her bare collarbones and Gabe ached all over to run his teeth over them and suck bruises into her delicate skin and cover her with the scent of him so that she would know he was hers. Instead, she caught him looking and he smiled bashfully.

“Of course it’s alright! Yes! When? I was going to suggest making a trip to see you soon, but that works too, if you’re sure about it?”

“I’m sure,” he said, trying not to sound too intense. “How does next weekend sound?”

A look of wide-eyed joy spread across her face. “Yes! Oh my god, perfect!” she actually made some kind of inhuman screeching noise that got a bit garbled over her phone’s microphone, but he didn’t overly mind. He was fairly certain Thunder and the others would have been able to hear it. “Why are you awake now anyway?” she asked. “You do know what a weekend is, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’ve just picked up Raph’s message. He’s an early morning person too, so…”

“Oh my god, you’ve only just this second heard back from him?” she asked. He wondered fleetingly how she could have been a good lawyer when she wore all her emotions so plainly on her face, but perhaps she was different when she was at work. The thought of seeing her dressing down some scumbag in a courtroom made him unexpectedly hot under the collar, and he nearly missed her next question, which followed on the heels of the first without waiting for an answer. “…long will you be staying?”

He scrubbed at his beard and thought idly that he needed to trim it, and shrugged. “I’d set off early from here on Saturday morning to be with you by about nine or ten, and then, if she lets me stay, I’d go back on Sunday night or Monday morning. Does that work?”

“Of course,” she said, and he could practically feel the excitement rolling off her. God, he wished he could smell it too — practically taste the way her body was reacting — but he would have to make do with just being able to see her. His mate. God, she looked so happy. That was miracle enough for him, he supposed.

Hopefully one day there'll be Season Two of Gabe and Odessa - I've written bits and bobs and snippets of it, and I know the rough outline. It just takes a lot of time and effort...

If you enjoyed this, which I hope you did, please consider reblogging it, as well as the original Season One story.

Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#gabe & odessa #werewolf #werewolf x human #exophilia #werewolf boyfriend #male werewolf x female character #shifter romance

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usafphantom2 · 3 months

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QF-104A in its dayglow colorscheme. Later this s/n 55-2957 got serials in black

@IL_wheels via X

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macaroonff · 5 months

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Taste- Lee Minho (Part 1)

Genre: Undercover detective x gang leader; the roaring 20s Paring: Minho x fem reader Content Warnings: Spice (no smut),mentions of alcohol, inaccurate historical representation, not intended to be factually correct, please forgive any inaccuracies. Word Count: 2957 words Suggested Songs: Taste- Stray Kids Whatever Lola Wants- Ella Fitzgerald Fall in Love With Swing- Trio Manouche Smooth Operator- Sade

↪click here for part 2.

Refer to this for context regarding specific terms in bold

No one would ever fathom how utterly guilty Lee Minho felt with his tongue driven down your throat in one of the many dressing rooms the jazz club contained. He hated how his sweaty palms digging into your lower back barely managed to keep both of you steady against the rough wall.

He despised how desperately you held onto the lapels of his tweed suit, as the cold pearls around your neck jingle against his watch with every turn of your head. Every jingle was followed by a gasp, and together they seemed to override the perky jazz coming from the stage.

He hated how he was stuck here, unable to release himself from his hedonistic urges, to the point where he neglected his work, the reason he entered this shabby club.

Priv. Detective Lee wasn't supposed to be here today, not in your embrace, not under your enchantment, not under the influence of something he was prohibited from.

Alcohol.

Despite his deceptive actions and seemingly careless attitude towards alcohol at parties, Lee Minho had a restrained regimen for himself. Especially when he’s working, which is almost everyday.

He only let himself go when it was necessary in social gatherings, in those crowded salons where everyone had their eye on him, where he had to follow skewed norms to strengthen his reputation as an owner of a winery acreage in Pomerol, France. A false identity pasted on him to get any sort of tip-off in this industry.

The industry where smuggling had become as common as a nuclear family buying a car.

Last Sunday, when he happened to be at another one of these parties, he was invited by his neighbour Mr Brown to a different wine tasting session at a strange, albeit new jazz club, rumoured to sell cheap booze. And of course he’d go.

Not because of the alcohol, but because of the fact that any place selling cheaper goods meant that it was smuggled. Not necessarily, and not always; but in this day and age he was sure it could be nothing else.

So he enters this somewhat run down club behind the busy streets of downtown Chicago, surprisingly packed with locals, a pungent smell of alcohol immediately welcoming him. A smell he thought he was used to, but clearly not enough to refrain from wincing, his eyebrows furrowed at the chaos and the crowd; at the suffocation he felt walking in.

At the centre of this chaos stood, in all her glory, the lead singer, her sweet voice accentuated by the saxophone, trumpet and piano quartet. She stood below the dim yellow chandelier hung above her as a spotlight, in her white satin, semi beaded dress which fell just below her knees, rather provocative.

He doesn't look away until Brown reminds him of the wine testing and ushers him towards a VIP booth.

He makes his way through the crowd, pushing against bodies dancing the Charleston, a recently popular dance that Minho found amusing. All this while, he probes the ins and outs of the club, looking for all entry ways through which big cartons could arrive, as well as places for them to be stored.

All he found was a door that appeared to lead into the dressing rooms. That didn't deter his ambitions though, because he knew that behind this lively exterior, there had to be secrets involved . He would do whatever he had to in order to uncover the operation.

If he had any flaws, it would be this, that he was too stubborn to give up on what his intuition said. He was hard headed, but in no way was he stupid. He'd be devious if it was necessary, he'd lie if he had to. He'd also seduce if it was extreme.

Well, it wasn't his first time trying. He'd done it before, at least six attempts, and maybe five successful ones. The last one was into girls, and he hoped, fairly desperate that this one wasn't.

After a while, he uses needing a trip to the toilet as a somewhat acceptable reason for leaving the now boring session. The drunk men weren't their most reasonable, and paid no heed to the poor excuse. Apparently being a connoisseur meant taking proper breaks. He shrugs it off with a smile, promising to come back in some time.

Lies.

He was long gone to meet his mysterious flapper who he surveyed every corner for.

Under the new frosted light bulbs bought for the bar, you found yourself in the company of many men and women alike, all desperately trying to sink their teeth into your precious minutes. All of whom you appreciated but wanted nothing to do with. Most of them were here to sign record deals from new radio channels wanting to capitalise on the upcoming modern woman movement. All of which you supported but didn't see yourself working as.

Not because you liked working as the main singer for a rundown jazz club. But because your actual work meant that you were never supposed to find fame. Fame meant prying eyes, and nosey neighbours; something you'd have none of in this lifetime.

Why risk it for fame, when you had important business to take care of here?

You had to make sure that not a single thing was out of line and that not a single person would ever find out of the secret second business run here.

So far, you've done a good job at pretending to be the club's owner's sister. And although it was true, the story behind renovating your grandma's old house into a jazz club wasn't. There was no grandma's old house, there was no renovation, no grandma either. This was always a place for trade.

Your kind of trade. Where you’d find the good dupes and sell it at a higher price, and the actual bottles would be shipped out for a lump sum.

The excess or the bad bottles would be sold in this club, at a discount. It was pretty simple actually, and it made you money.

Sure it was illegal. But sometimes you needed the money, no questions asked. This was how your family knew to fend. This is how you'd continue to fend for yourself.

The risks you took were calculated, and you weren't afraid. While your brother looked after the actual shipments, you'd deliver intel.

You were in control of all the information passing through here. Nothing happening in town would ever slip away from your grasp.

So what if it was a jazz club?

Most people from different backgrounds always ended up at your 'Charmer Club'.

Most people let themselves go. They always ended up telling the bartender about their business, the dirty dealings that they've also been up to. The fact that most were more grey than the white that they appeared to be.

It was no different for you.

And if there was any difference, it was that you'd never let yourself slip-up. You weren't stupid. You weren't a naïve little Tomato like most believe. Even if you did find yourself faltering, you'd know how to convince others into changing their mind about you.

The same way you knew you could convince Mr Brown that you were interested in the specificities of wine when he almost caught you switching bottles from the basement. You barely convinced him, saying that true wine from France would have plum and black cherry aromas, which it did have. Lucky for you, Mr Brown had no idea that dupes could have chemical fragrances added to them too, because he'd never had to collect wine right from the port. Defeated, he said he'd ask his "very dear friend" to figure out the truth.

At first, you were shocked that there was another wine connoisseur you didn't know of, but after asking your people to investigate, you realised why Mr Brown was so confident. Why he was after your tail.

You knew he was new to this part of town; an insanely handsome, Big Cheese foreigner who wasn't yet used to life in America.

That his speciality was French Wine, and that if he was rich here, he was even richer back home. That he might even be a scofflaw, since he hung around in as many alcohol parties as he could, including the ones for the middle class. This piques your interest, and in a long while, you haven't been as excited to unearth someone's mask.

Now, all you had to do was wait. Because you hoped, no, you knew he would come to find you tonight, regardless of never having spoken before. Because most people do the first time they visit this club.

Most people come looking for you when you're done singing. Because they're enthralled, curious, or physically attracted to you. Because you're almost too beautiful for them to admire from a distance. Because you had "eyes like an angel that drew everyone to paradise".

These weren't just based on what you heard, but accounts from your members, beyond tired of regulars ravishing about you. But that wasn't enough for you. You needed beyond sensuality to tempt and guarantee clients. Sure your circle of customers had grown over the last five years you took over, but that didn't mean the risk had dissipated.

So while your confidence was with justification, your anxiety insisted on you keeping things tight-lipped. You had to know everything that occurred in this paltry but pertinent place.

Maybe that was why you were grateful when your target approaches you of his own accord. His deep brown eyes intent on yours, his long hands embellished by his expensive Rolex oyster, an uncommon wrist watch that very few would dream of affording, an orange tie loosened as though he had drunk the daylights out of himself.

He was perfect. Handsome and tipsy, what else would you want out of a person who had the potential to figure out that your French wine happened to be local American?

"Stunning performance," you hear a deep voice say, in a slurred accent, you can't tell if it was because he was French, or just drunk.

"Thanks, first time here?" you ask.

He nods, leaning ahead. "Mr Brown told me, you have some really good wine down here, something I might be familiar with."

"Ahh you must be the foreigner Mr Brown keeps raving about... Mr?"

"Just call me Claude," he replies sweetly.

You raise your eyebrow. Was he so private as to not let his last name slip? You call the bartender over.

"A bottle of our finest Cheval Blanc." you look back and smile at him.

Claude smirks. "I'm familiar with this wine you know. It's made from the labour of my vineyards."

You examine his face, looking for any sign of deceit. You'd come across many con artists, most of whom didn't have adequate expertise in alcohol. Nobody knew the real in a world where fake was deliberately greater. But here's someone who claimed to be, here's someone who you were sure was lying, despite no hint of deceit.

Why would a rich French billionaire come down personally to your shabby store, instead of asking someone else to collect it?

Unless he had something to prove.

Soon the glasses are laid out, and half a bottle poured. You wait as he swirls the glass in his hand. Despite the loud jazz, you hear nothing but the sound of ice clinking in his glass, and the aroma of plum piercing through, making it difficult for you to breathe. You realise, that after a long time, you're nervous. You see him smell the alcohol briefly.

The cup reaches his lips, and he closes his pretty eyes. You watch him gulp a miniscule sip down. It is silent as his eyelashes flutter slowly as his mouth twitches in slight distaste. Just as anyone else would frown, but for some reason his seemed deliberate, and somewhat dangerous.

Dangerous was what Lee Minho thought you were, with the real thing in the glass in front of him. Somehow, he knew it wasn't a dupe. It had the same percentage of alcohol as he knew it should, and not one flavour felt out of place. But then again, he couldn't be sure; he wasn't actually the person he claimed to be. He wasn't an actual connoisseur. If this was the real thing, then it made no sense for you to sell it at a discount.

"Why is one bottle so cheap?" he asks carefully, leaning against the counter. This time, he looks at you in search of deceit. Instead all he reads is a hint of surprise on your face, along with a little bit of glee, he couldn't be sure.

"You should know after tasting them shouldn't you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, a small smile on your lips, as though you had it all figured out.

Lee Minho falters, suddenly unarmed. What did that mean? Did you admit that it was fake? Or were you trying to gauge his identity?

A wrong answer now, and he'd give himself away.

"Of course I know why, but I'd rather hear from you." he avoids, to which you don't reply.

He needs to draw everything from you. "The discounts are unreasonably low, especially for a Cheval Blanc. It almost hurts my pride," he playfully pouts.

He sees you shaking your head in slight disappointment, an amused smile along with it. "You shouldn't worry about that, you're not losing any money here," you whisper close to his ear.

He tries so hard to ignore the smell of may rose and jasmine that accompanied your Chanel no. 5 parfum, and he tried to ignore how some of the others gaped at him, envious of how close he'd gotten to you.

"How can I be sure?" he questions his breath slightly arrhythmic.

How would you know rather, whether a rich business man would have lost his money? Really nobody would know unless they went through the ledgers. Something you were sure didn't exist in his company, or else he'd know just how much he'd lost.

Everything he said pointed to him being a careless business owner, something you thought would never be possible for a man so rich. You scan through his appearance again, his suit looked genuine, the tweed proper. You even gently caress the back of his broad lapels to confirm. He was rich, but was he anything close to the person he says he is?

Out of all the people you met in this small place, there was one thing you knew too well. If something or someone is too good to be true, it probably was. He was no vineyard owner from France, foreigner maybe, but not someone who knows business.

Something about the way he tried so desperately to gauge your business instead of you meant that he wasn't here to play, nor was he here to strike a deal. Most businesses that advertise their brands try to get their way into you, instead of the business. They usually came knowing you were a snake charmer, someone who could sell all the bad ones for better prices. Selling rejected alcohol ended up being a way for them to reduce net losses.

The man in front of you, "Claude", could be one of two things. An embalmer like you, jealous of the profit you're making; or someone here to investigate your business. A situation you were familiar with.

Multiple cops had come to investigate before, all of whom were easy to shut up. However the person in front of you didn't feel like a cop, he didn't try to exert power, nor did he try to undermine yours. A man so hard to read, you weren't sure how to make head or tail of who he really was.

"Hmm, I'll tell you why I sell it for less, only if you tell me why you don't think it should be sold for less" you offer, laying out your cards in front of him. His response would determine if he was a tremendous, or poor master of deception.

"It is indeed the real thing; however the aroma feels diluted, although the drink's concentration seems correct, I understand that it is from a batch of wine of secondary quality made from bad grapes. However the year it was made in, suffered from excessive rain, and the waterlogged condition meant that production had reduced that year. It would make sense for you to sell it for a higher price due to excess demand."

You smirk, as he got the question right. Somehow, he knew his stuff. The details however did feel as if he had thoroughly prepared for an interrogation.

"Unfortunately the people who buy here don't care about a particular year, they care just for the alcohol. It matters to only a few, such as Mr Brown and your friends who care enough to investigate, Claude."

"We're just curious, after all we're linked to the industry at some level. You don't need to feel offended young lady, if I may ask for your name?"

"My name is a secret for those who I meet for the first three times, if you return after our third meeting, I'll tell you. For now, goodbye; I have other patrons to meet."

With that you leave hastily, already unnerved at the fact that he somehow picked at your disguise. Annoyed yet excited.

After a long time, you had something vaguely resembling a challenge, and the following meetings would ensure that you get every second worth of thrill from him. You'd make sure that Claude, or whatever his handsome name was would only tread carefully from now.

Hey there! This took me too long to write, but I tried something extremely different this time.

Please give me feedback, I'd appreciate it a lot!

Love Macaroon 💖

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #lee know imagines #lee know fanfic #lee know fanfiction #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho fanfic

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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Tied to You | Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @peakyscillian ‘s 1.5K celebration

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: During a laid back Valentine's Day together, Tommy lets (Y/N) know how much she means to him and that he'll be by her side forever.

Warnings: language, implications of sexual situations, brief, vague description of a bad dream, mentions of scars

Word Count: 2957

A/N: congratulations on hitting 1.5K, Laura! I felt that it was fitting that I posted this on Valentine’s Day. I used the prompt: I'm running out of creative ways to surprise you, so this year it'll just be kisses and cuddles, if you don't mind for this and I had a bunch of fun writing it! I hope I did this lovely couple justice. They’ve been through it, so I wanted to give them some respite here. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: Disclaimer: the couple used in this is from the lovely series Family Ties that Laura’s currently writing - I highly suggest you go and check it out!!! This oneshot isn’t meant to continue their story, but rather is a stand alone using their backstory.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) felt like the walls were closing in around her, and she couldn't figure out which door to go through; which door would lead her to safety. She heard the footsteps echoing from down the hall. Sam was coming, he'd be in front of her in a matter of seconds and she wasn't sure which door would lead her to Tommy. And the hallway was dark; no one was around. She was really, truly alone this time. Again. "Where have you gone, (Y/N)?" Sam's voice echoed down the hallway, "(Y/N)?" The breath got caught in her throat. She didn't know what move to make next. "(Y/N)?"

She awoke with a start, her chest heaving as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Everything was black, spare from the dim light from the moon that was peaking through the curtains. "Where am I?" she asked, wondering if she was awake or if it was just an extension of her dream.

"You're at home, love," the voice that came from behind her made her relax almost immediately. It wasn't Sam's voice; it was Tommy's. (Y/N) was able to feel his arms as they encircled her waist, making her aware of his body behind her. "You're safe. I've got you," he told her, allowing her to twist her fingers with his after she blindly searched for his hand.

"It was a bad dream, Tommy," she breathed, her voice shaky as she tried to settle down again.

"I know," he answered her, "I've got you though, you're safe. Go back to sleep," he finished his sentence by squeezing her hand, letting her know that she wasn't alone.

Feeling his hand squeezing hers grounded her and allowed her to take a deep breath and close her eyes. The fear that another nightmare was waiting for her seemed to fade as she held on tightly to Tommy's hand, and she was able to slip back into sleep for what she hoped to be the rest of the evening.

—

The sunlight was shining through the curtains when (Y/N) opened her eyes again. She blinked a few times, shaking the sleep from her mind before she became aware of the arm that was draped over her waist. She tried to move out from underneath it, but that only made its owner grip onto her tighter.

"You're awake?" Tommy's groggy voice came from behind her.

"I am," she answered him, her voice coming out just above a whisper as a smile formed on her face. She always relished hearing his morning voice. It was something she was not often blessed with since he always liked to wake up hours before her.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked before adding, "for the rest of the night?"

"Good," (Y/N) answered, not commenting on his addition. She rathered letting it go anyway. "It was better being in your arms," she added, her smile widening as she then tried to turn to face him. She was met with resistance in her attempts, and she couldn't help but giggle as Tommy practically clamped her against his chest. "I'm trying to turn and see you," she got out in between her laughter as she attempted to move again.

Tommy didn't relax his hold on her though, "mmm, I like feelin' you pressed up against me though," he gave her the reason behind his resistance, his lips pressing against the back of her neck once he was done speaking.

"But I wanna see you, Tommy," (Y/N) pouted, giving up all of her efforts when it became apparent that he wasn't letting her go.

"I wanna hold you a little longer," he persisted through her pouting. Feeling her still in front of him, his hand moved from her stomach to her hip, and he slowly began trailing it down her thigh. "I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered, his lips right next to her ear as his hand ghosted over the scars that were still evident on her inner thigh, "every inch of you," he added, his hand moving dangerously close to where she always needed him before it continued on its trail back up her hip. A sigh left her lips as she involuntarily pushed herself back against him, hearing him exhale a soft grunt in response to her actions. He held his breath for a moment then before he let out a sigh, "and I'm still so fucking sorry..." he began, his tone now sounding different than it did before.

(Y/N) stopped him before he could continue down that road again. She spun under his hold so that she could be facing him. "Tommy, don't. Don't go back there again. It's in the past," she said to him, looking into his eyes before she slotted her leg between his so that she could move as close to him as possible. She continued to stare into his eyes as a smile slowly formed on her face. "You'll have all day to hold me, Tommy," she said to him in a sweet voice, changing the subject back to something light, "we've got the entire day to ourselves, remember?"

(Y/N) was right. They'd made it a priority to clear both of their schedules for this special holiday, and now they had no plans...well, none that involved leaving the house that is. Valentine's Day had become a special holiday over the last four years. (Y/N) didn't quite know what it felt like to be shamelessly loved on by another person until she met Tommy. Even though he made it a point to show his love for her on a daily basis, his efforts always increased tenfold on this particular holiday.

With everything that had been going on, the couple wanted nothing more than to wrap themselves up in each other for the day, and they planned on doing just that.

"You did clear your schedule, didn't you?" she checked, her eyebrows raising when Tommy didn't immediately respond to her first statement. She held her breath, waiting intently for what he'd say in response.

"Maybe," he answered her, trying his best to stop the grin from forming on his face.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at his answer and she was immediately propped up on her elbow so that she could look at him straight on instead of sideways, "don't you maybe me, Thomas Shelby. Did you or did you not clear your schedule for today, like you said you were going to?"

Tommy was laughing the second she finished her statement, "I've got my schedule cleared, love, don't worry," he told her, brushing off her minor freak out as he reached his arm out to her again, "now lay back down, won't you?"

She huffed upon hearing his response, shaking her head at his antics before she slid back down into his awaiting embrace, accepting the kiss that he pressed to her forehead as she nestled back into his warmth. "That was not cool, Tommy," she said, her act faltering when she looked at him once more. She was unable to stay 'angry' at him when he had that stupid smile on his face.

"You still love me," he teased her, seeing her act crumble as a smile formed on her face.

"I do," she didn't even try to deny it as she looked into his eyes. She searched them for a moment before she brought her hand up and ran it down his cheek, enjoying the feeling of the slightest stubble that he no doubt would shave off once they got out of bed. "Happy Valentine's Day, Tommy," she said to him then, her voice softer now than it was before.

"Happy Valentine's Day, (Y/N)," he repeated the sentiment, moving his head on the pillow so that he could press his lips to hers in a slow kiss.

(Y/N) kept her hand on his cheek as they savored the moment with each other, smiles on both of their faces. She then pulled back and ran her thumb against his lips as she smiled at him again.

Silence hung around them for a few moments before she broke it by speaking: "I spent the last few weeks trying to think of something to get for you for today," she started, shifting slightly in the bed so that she could prop herself up on her elbows and look at him properly. He turned onto his back as she did this and watched her with a raised eyebrow expression, interested in whatever it was that she would say next. "I quickly realized that I'm running out of creative ways to surprise you, so this year it'll just be kisses and cuddles, if you don't mind," she finished her statement with a bit of a sheepish smile on her face. They stared at each other for a few moments before the anticipation got to be too much for her to bear. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked him, her eyebrows now raised as she waited intently for his response.

"Not at all," he answered her, slightly shaking his head as he spoke. A grin formed on his face as he looked her over, wondering for a moment how he managed to get a woman like her to be his wife. "Your kisses and cuddles are all I need, love," he told her, managing to snake his arms around her so that he could pull her up on top of his chest. He hugged her close to him then, making sure that she wasn't going anywhere as their noses were practically touching now, "and I hope I'll be getting a full day's worth of them," he said, looking at her expectantly as a similar grin formed on her face.

"Oh you most certainly will be," she assured him, her lips finding his so that she could lock him into another kiss that made the fires in her stomach increase with every second their lips stayed connected. Today was going to be a good day.

—

It wasn't until midday that Tommy and (Y/N) finally left their bedroom so that they could find something to eat. (Y/N) was the first to walk into the living area, with Tommy trailing close behind, and what she walked out to made her stop in her tracks. In front of her were two, rather large, vases filled with pink roses that sat on either side of a bottle of wine and two, ornate flutes.

"Happy Valentine's Day, love," Tommy's voice came from behind her, making her remember that he was still standing there as she came back from her state of surprise.

"You didn't have to do all of this, Tommy," she said to him as she spun around to face him, "now my kisses and cuddles are looking like a whole bunch of nothing," she pouted.

A pout formed on Tommy's face as well as he brought his hands up to rest on her shoulders. "I'd take those over some material shit any day, and you should know that," he said to her, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke to show his seriousness. He glanced over her shoulder at the gifts he'd laid out for her for a moment before his eyes matched hers again, "'sides...this is for a lot more than just Valentine's Day," he told her then. He didn't need to go into detail with what he meant by this; she clearly understood what he was getting at.

A smile formed on (Y/N)'s face as she tried to keep the tears from welling up in her waterline. "Thank you, Tommy," she said to him, reaching over to take hold of his cheeks so that she could press a loving kiss to his lips, showing him how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

"Now come with me...there's something I want you to open," he said to her once they pulled away from each other. He took her hand and led her over to the table where everything was set up. Once they got to it, he turned and saw that she had a 'what more do you have up your sleeve?' look on her face. He only sent her a grin in response before he grabbed the small gift bag that was sitting next to the bottle of wine.

"What's this, Tommy?" (Y/N) questioned, surprise clear on her face for the umpteenth time as she accepted the gift from him.

"It's just something that I thought you might like," he answered before nodding to the bag, "go on...open it," he prompted her, making her look down at the bag.

(Y/N) then went about pulling the small pieces of tissue paper out so that she could see the unmistakable Tiffany blue colored, square jewelry box at the bottom of it. She glanced up at Tommy, who was watching her expectantly, before she reached in and pulled the box out.

"Let me open it for you," he said to her, stopping her before she could go about doing it herself. She wordlessly handed the box to him. He smiled at her before he took a step back so that he could drop down onto one knee.

"Thomas Shelby," she gasped, shocked by the suddenness of everything. She had to admit that she was slightly confused by what was going on...they'd been married for four years now; why was he going down on his knee again? "Tommy, what are you doing?" she just had to ask him.

"Don't worry..." he brushed her off, clasping the box in his hands as he grinned up at her.

"I'm not worried," she assured him, a slight giddy laugh escaping her lips before she continued, "I'm just wondering if I should maybe be wearing something more appropriate than just your shirt for you to be doing this," she finished by tugging on the collar of the white, button down shirt of his that she'd decided to put on when they finally left the bedroom.

"Fuck being appropriate," he brushed her off again, his grin growing as he looked her up and down, "I love you, (Y/N)...whether you're dressed in a thousand pound gown or nothing at all. I love you, and that's why I wanted to give you this ring today..." he paused then as he opened the box to show her a thin ring that had diamonds wrapped around its entirety. (Y/N) gasped when she saw it. "It's called the Full Eternity ring, and I chose it to let you know that I will love you for eternity, and that I'm tied to you forever," he ended his speech by looking up at her with a smile similar to the one he wore when he proposed spread across his face.

"It's beautiful, Tommy," (Y/N) whispered, her heart just about ready to burst from the sentiment of his words. She held her left hand out then as he took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her ring finger so that it could rest on top of her engagement ring and wedding band. "I love it...I love you," she said then, smiling as he stood up and allowed her to take his cheeks into her hands so that she could kiss him.

His hands hooked around her waist as their lips stayed locked together, and (Y/N) only pulled away to shriek when he lifted her up and set her on the edge of the table they were standing next to. "You're going to make a mess out of all of this stuff," she pointed out, looking at him with wide eyes before she turned her head to check and see if anything had been knocked over. She kept her hands fastened to his cheeks, but that didn't stop him from leaning in and pressing kisses to her jaw while she surveyed the table behind her.

"I didn't make one though, did I?" he asked, his words holding a cheeky tone, "not yet at least," he added, and (Y/N) was able to feel him smirk against her skin.

"Why don't we have some of the wine?" she suggested, her hands dropping from his cheeks to his shoulders as she rested the side of her head against his. Tommy dropped his lips down to her neck and continued peppering kisses against her skin, unbothered by her movements.

"Maybe you should give me more of those kisses and cuddles you were gifting me, hmm?" he proposed his own idea, lifting his head as he spoke so that he could look at her again. His eyes were clearly hooded over now, and just the sight of that made something stir within (Y/N).

She couldn't stop the grin from forming on her face. "I guess I could make that happen," she responded coyly to his suggestion, and that was all he needed to fasten his hands to her hips again so that he could lift her off of the table and turn them both around. "Wait," she stopped him before he could take a step. He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, waiting for whatever it was that she was going to say. "We should bring the wine," she told him, her words making him chuckle before she reached over his arm to grab the bottle and two flutes from the table. "Now we're ready," she grinned at him, hooking her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Tommy chuckled at her before he finally stepped away from the table and began making his way back to the bedroom. Today was a good day indeed.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster

MASTERLIST

Here’s the ring Tommy gave (Y/N):

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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blackcestfest · 14 days

Text

Blackcest Fest Masterlist

Categories: Femslash, Het, Sirius/Regulus, Sirius/Regulus/Other, Other Slash

Femslash:

Eyes On The Bride by LesbianKJ Ships: Druella Rosier Black/Walburga Black, Druella Rosier Black/Minerva McGonagall Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2,456

It's Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black's wedding, and Druella isn't acting like the proper bride.

Sweet Possession by sky_watcher_rose Ship: Walburga Black/Bellatrix Black Lestrange Rating: E Word count: 4624

Bellatrix has always worshipped the ground her aunt walks on - and so perhaps, Walburga thinks, this was inevitable. Bellatrix was always going to ask, and she was always going to say yes.

Bellatrix Black: An Elegy by @thistlecatfics Ships: Andromeda/Bellatrix, Bellatrix/Cygnus, Bellatrix/Rita Skeeter Rating: E Wordcount: 5,328 Warnings: Non-con, underage

“Bellatrix Black Lestrange was survived by her husband, sister, nephew, and me, whatever I could be considered, if I could even be considered someone who survived her.”

Het:

they wed by sanguis_in_excelsis @sanguisinexelsis Ship: Sirius Black/Bellatrix Black Rating: G Word count: 6446

and it goes better than expected Sirius and Bellatrix, and their starry mythology

Vérité by MymbleHowl @st-clements-steps Ships: Sirius Black/Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Barty Crouch Jr. Rating: E Wordcount: 2957

“By Salazar.” Surely she uses magic somehow to make her sigh resound through all their cells, “let me know when you meet a boy who doesn’t like it hard and fast, Bartemius." To Sirius she says, "darling, be a good boy for me and tell me what you’re doing?” Her voice sings across their dank surroundings. “Sometimes, babydoll, you have to let them take the lead.”

Daddy's Girl by @miss-grimwood Ship: Bellatrix/Cygnus Rating: M Word count: 1550 Warnings: underage, rape/non-con

Cygnus prepared Bellatrix to be a good wife to her future husband.

blue light of the flame by @sanguisinexelsis Ships: Sirius Black/Andromeda Black Tonks, Past Sirius/Bellatrix, Past Andromeda/Alphard Rating: G Word count: 1,748

Andromeda goes to visit Sirius in Number Twelve the week before he dies. They say goodbye.

Her Good Boy by RottenPleasures @caitiewantstobeavadakedavrad Ship: Druella Rosier Black/Sirius Black Rating: E Wordcount: 1,273 Warnings: Underage

Walburga has always claimed that Sirius doesn’t know how to behave. Druella thinks that couldn’t be father from the truth.

Short Distance Between Love and Insanity by piximera @piximera-art Ship: Sirius/Bellatrix Rating: E Wordcount: 1,829

Bellatrix HATES Sirius, so why do they end up in bed together at every family ball?

M-A-M-A B-O-Y, Mama’s boy, Mama’s boy by Sagiko_AKA_RegulusBlackKinnieBITFW Ships: Walburga Black/Regulus Black, Past Walburga Black/Alphard Black Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2101

Who says romance has to be dead just because her incesty brother died? Her son can always take his place.

Sirius/Regulus:

Happiness by TheFaeSys @thesun-themoon-andtheirstars Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: T Wordcount: 1184 Warnings: Mention of past abuse

After spending the first few weeks of the summer at the Potter's Sirius starts getting letters, a lot of letters. They don't stop and when Bellatrix shows up and drags him away to see his brother, Sirius relents, vowing to bring him back to the Potter's.

(ART) That Time My Brother Kissed Me and Not His Boyfriend by @acydpop Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: G

Sirius didn't know that polyjuicing into one of his mates would lead to a surprise he never saw coming.

Kisses Are For Lovers by DeathBecomesJade @sniperjade Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: E Wordcount: 13,447 Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Attempted Suicide

Regulus has always loved Sirius but for as long as he can remember Sirius has always pushed him away. He lost track of him after Hogwarts but now that he is free from his mother's influence and has found Sirius again, he will never let him go.

A Candle in the Dark by @ticigi Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: E Wordcount: 6,674 Warnings: Underage, Referenced non-con

"Hey, Reggie? Want to see the stars with me, just like old times?”

Now That We Don't Talk by @melissamwrites Ship: Sirius/Regulus Rating: E Word count: 18,943 Warnings: Past Child Abuse, underage (17 year old)

Sirius and Regulus have been estranged since Sirius ran away at the age of 16 with his best friend from boarding school, James Potter. But they have recently moved to London (the Potters are insistent that they try and work for a living). James is trying to get into a new relationship, but Sirius feels lonely and tries to reach out to some old friends.

Take My Body by acari @ghaniblue Ship: Regulus/Sirius Rating: E Wordcount: 3140 Warnings: Underage

The last person Sirius expected to find on his front step was his estranged little brother begging Sirius to fuck him.

Winner Takes All by @the-invisibility-bloke Ship: Sirius/Regulus Rating: E Wordcount: 8,893 Warnings: Underage

"You call that a kiss?" It’s all fun and games until it’s fun and games and groping.

The Ties That Bind Me (To Horoscopes and Fate) by @tenrousei-kuroi Ship: Sirius/Regulus Rating: E Wordcount: 6,007 Warnings: rape/non-con, moderate violence, underage, physical abuse

"Sirius could hear Orion in Regulus's room in the middle of the night when they were supposed to be sleeping. One of those nights he decides to sneak into his brother's room after their father leaves, just to check on him, but what he sees makes it impossible not to take advantage of the situation."

Lessons by dalula Ship: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2026 Warnings: Underage

Before starting Hogwarts, the Black siblings are extremely sheltered. When Sirius comes back after his first term, he can't wait to show Regulus that he can use what's between his legs to make himself feel better.

Sirius/Regulus/Other:

Love in Different Shapes by Shadowmun @mundrakan Ship: Sirius/Regulus + Severus Rating: E Wordcount: 2742 Warnings: Rape/non-con, underage

Father asked Regulus to dose Sirius with a potion, so he would find an "illegible partner" and return to the family to do his duty of marrying and producing beautiful little pure-blood children. Too late Regulus finds out: Father didn't read the fine print.

Naughty, Knotty, Naughty by BrokenBoughs Ships: Regulus/Sirius, Regulus/Sirius/Harry Rating: E Wordcount: 1k

Regulus tells Harry a bit of Black history.

With Seed As Strong As Blood by @greenmegsnoham Ships: Orion Black/Regulus Black, Regulus Black/Sirius Black, Orion Black/Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: E Warnings: Underage, Rape/Non-con Wordcount: 2,200

"You want him," Orion states unquestioningly, his fingers trailing along Regulus' side to the dip of his waist and those widening hips... "Do your duty," Orion commands Sirius, "and you shall have your fill of our sweet Omega."

Take me with you (find a way) by cassetteinability @onehundredflamingos Ship: Regulus/Sirius/Narcissa Rating: E Wordcount: 10,352

When Walburga sets up a wedding between Regulus and Narcissa, Sirius vows to do whatever it takes to get back to his brother.

James Knows by @goldenbi Ships: Regulus Black/Sirius Black/James Potter Rating: E Wordcount: 5,030 Warnings: Underage Sex

James knew his best friend. He knew his best friend more than anyone else could know another person. From the first moment they met they were in sync in almost every way. Nearly every sentence that included James also included Sirius. Sirius’s wand felt just as natural in his hand as James’s own. They were closer than any two people could be. It was as if their very souls were made of the same bright light. So why didn’t Sirius admit that he was fucking his own brother?

Other Slash:

finders keepers by dalula Ship: Draco Malfoy/Sirius Black Rating: E Wordcount: 1269 Warnings: Underage, Animagus Bestiality

Draco finds Padfoot on the grounds at Hogwarts and smuggles him into his dorm. He's always wanted a dog.

#blackcest #blackcest fest #starcest #fest masterlist

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