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#leather&lace2018
vorchagirl · 6 years
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Leather & Lace Romance Week!
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Hello and welcome to official post for the Leather and Lace Romance Week for 2018, hosted by @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty.  This week is dedicated to celebrating all of the romances, potential romances, or dreamed of romances, in all of our favourite fandoms, and doing so in a positive, friendly, and accepting way.
So what exactly is the Leather & Lace Romance Week? The aim of this week is to encourage fans to create art, write fanfiction, or discuss their favourite romantic tropes. Each day is themed to a classic romance trope and participants can choose to either take a Leather or a Lace approach. That is, you can choose to create NSFW /smutty content, or you can approach things in a fluffier, sweeter, and G-rated manner. If you already have a piece of writing, art or HC that is perfect for this event, please feel free to share it!
When does it run? 12th - 18th February 2018 (Yes, over Valentines Day!)
The daily tropes!
Day 1. Two people/One Bed (12th Feb)
Day 2. Fake Relationship/Engagements/Marriage  (13th Feb)
Day 3. Valentines Day (14th Feb)
Day 4. Disagreements and Making up (15th Feb)
Day 5. Trapped Together (16th Feb)
Day 6. Friends/Enemies to Lovers (17th Feb)
Day 7. Soulmates / Destined to be together (18th Feb)
Are there any rules?
- Please avoid all fandom wank and negativity. Fandom drama, discourse, or anti-ship/character hate is not welcome. In fact, hate in general is not welcome.
- It should go without saying that sexist, racist, queerphobic, ableist etc. behaviour is equally unwelcome.  In short: Be excellent to each other!
- Follow the golden rules: Ship and Let Ship & Your Kink is Not My Kink!
- Tag your work if it’s NSFW and for all major warnings/triggers - it’s only polite!
- Please respect LGBT+ characters sexualities and pronouns
- This is a celebration of consensual romance, in all its forms.
- This is a sex positive event, and that means that all healthy and consensual sexual relationships are welcome. In the same vein, romance does not necessarily equal sex, and of course this means that asexual and aromatic relationships are welcome too, as are casual sexual relationships.
Tags & Thank yous Please tag your work with #leather&lace2018 within the first 5 tags if you participate so we can see all the lovely fanworks you guys are sharing!
Thank you to @bioticfox who made the wonderful graphic!
Signal Boosts are very welcome so we can spread the word about this event!
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rinskiroo · 6 years
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Poe Dameron is an Air Force pilot on temporary assignment to England. Rey owns a pub in a sleepy little village. His first day in country, Poe gets lost on those narrow English roads and finds Rey's pub during a winter storm. Poe thinks she's amazing, but he's only here for a few months--no time for romance. Rey thinks he's handsome, but she's not about to spend her time waiting on some flaky flyboy.
Day 1: “Bedsharing”
Day 2: “Fake” Relationship
Day 3: Valentine’s Day
Day 4: Disagreements and Making Up
Day 6: Friends to Lovers
Day 7: Soulmates
Day 5: “Trapped” Together
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starsandskies · 6 years
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Leather & Lace Romance Week
Day 7: Soulmates / Destined to be together
This week was the perfect excuse to colour that lineart I did months ago.
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dalishbanalras · 6 years
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Solas: Points ring. “This one.” Seller: ”Of course, Ser. What size?” Solas: “Oh, one second.” Casually tosses arm on the counter. “Just make it fit.” The Leather & Lace Romance Week prompt (Fake Relationship/Engagements/Marriage) may have put a silly vision in my head for Solas picking a ring...I’m not sorry. 
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missredherring · 6 years
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Pocket Full of Sunshine
I’ve decided to take part in the Leather and Lace Romance Week for 2018!
Day One:  Two people/One Bed Couch
“How are you feeling?” Clark’s voice startled you out of your daze. You knew he was next you, it was hard not to think of that every second, but you were so warm. 
“A lot better, thanks.” It’s quiet in the cabin Clark found. You would’ve been frozen to death by now if he hadn’t found you. And now you two were on the couch in front of the fire, curled up under every blanket you could find. 
You’d finally stopped shivering a few minutes ago, and now your toes and fingers were buzzing. That was definitely a good sign. Clark shifted and eased into a more relaxed position and ended up pulling you with him so you were mostly laying on him instead of the couch.
Even through his clothes he radiated heat. It reminded you of summer, when you lay out and soaked up the sunshine. You could still feel the warmth on your skin when you went inside. It made sense, seeing as how Clark got strength from the sun, but it was still impressive in the middle of winter. 
You cuddled closer to him, in the name of warding off hypothermia, and made a mental note to tell Diana about this when you got home. You were sure she’d said there was something like this in the second volume of Clio’s treatises. 
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amarmeme · 6 years
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A Hard Day’s Night
The prompt for Day One of Leather & Lace was just too good to pass up. Bed-sharing is a sacred trope that should be cherished. So I eagerly wrote up a little Cullen x Trevelyan after the events of Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. About 2,000 words, see the rest beneath the cut. 
The entirety of the Orlesian court could burn as far as he was concerned. Each frippery was worse than the last: feathered, jeweled masks hid a person’s true intent while their words betrayed nothing and fingers pinching through silken gloves plucked the skin just as hard. Enough was enough. Cullen had bore worse for far longer, but this was a different sort of assault. It was depraved. These demons were real; flesh and blood humans who enjoyed his obvious discomfort as a national pastime. As the last noble clutched his arse with a painful twist, Cullen shimmed out of his place near the window and with as dignified a voice as possible, excused himself.
Josephine and Leliana accepted his abrupt departure with condescension so thinly veiled they might as well had offered to tuck him in with a warm glass of milk and a bedtime tale. He’d failed another of their unnamed tests; the pair smirked knowingly at one another as The Game claimed its latest victim. It didn’t bother him anymore, the silent evaluations. He’d long since accepted the fact he was no diplomat.
Cullen headed for the solace of his chamber, taking easy strides and nodding across the room at fellow Inquisition members as he passed. Cassandra caught him with a murderous glare. It was a plea if he’d ever seen one cross the warrior’s face, but unfortunate for her, he’d already reached his limit on noble navel gazing. He raised his hand apologetically, and quickened his pace. The hallway couldn’t come soon enough.
Spinning crisply on his heel, Cullen disappeared from the sight of the masses, heading down a dimly lit corridor towards the private chambers. Regrettably, he hadn’t spotted Charlotte in the crowds. It seemed their leader had retired after their private moment on the balcony earlier, and he couldn’t fault her for that. They’d both promised to meet up once she’d had the chance to clean the blood and grime off herself after fighting Florianne and her agents. Maybe she’d taken the break to collect herself only to choose her bed over the spectacle of the court. Although part of him very much wanted to see her again, he understood the temptation for solitude all too well. They’d speak again in the morning, and privately if he could manage it.
With his conscious almost completely relieved at abandoning the scene early, Cullen unlocked his stately door with ease, feeling the pressure of the day slide from his shoulders as the lock gave way. He looked in at his temporary domain and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was well lit already, a state that must have been the result of court trained servants. He’d only been in the room a moment or two earlier in the day before the Inquisitor and her party arrived. It was cold and sterile then, but it felt warm and lavish now: a hot bath already poured in the ornate tub next to the fireplace; a tray of delicacies placed within reach that he would have scoffed at in company, yet were secretly delicious; a decanter of wine fixed near a low settee. He undid the buttons at his neck with one hand and turned towards the giant bed he’d only gazed at briefly before. He stepped towards it, ready to divest himself of the stiff collared jacket when a sudden movement caught his eye.
Someone had flipped over in his bed. He paused in his tracks, assessing his surroundings again. Perhaps he’d entered the wrong room. The key had opened the door, but maybe Orlesians played practical jokes. His nerves jangled until he spotted the gleam of his weapons in the corner. No, this was his room, at least, the room he’d entered before. Looking towards the bed again, contemplating what to do, his unwanted guest sighed and pushed back the covers. A slim, pale shoulder emerged, as well as a coil of red hair. The guest flipped again, huffing and sorting the sheets with annoyance. Cullen edged closer. A surge of relief passed through him at the sight, knowing who the restless guest was. Then as quickly as it came on, the relief was surpassed by sudden nerves. Had Charlotte meant to surprise him? They’d yet to… take that important next step in their relationship, but was this her way of suggesting it was time? As much as he welcomed the idea of relishing her, another part of him still felt tainted by the stain of the nobles’ graceless attempts to grope him earlier. He hovered indecisively until a fluttered sigh passed her lips and Charlotte began speaking in her sleep.
“That’s – I don’t know if I can,” she mumbled. “It'stoomuchIcan'ttakeit–” Her words slurred together rapidly.
Cullen sat on the edge of the bed and shook her shoulder. Gently at first, then with bit more force to wake her from her dream. It didn’t sound pleasant.
“Charlotte,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
Her eyes peeled open slowly, and the instant she recognized fully him her cheeks became a mottled red. Her hands flew to cover her chest, as if she was exposed.
“It sounded like a bad dream,” he remarked, eager to move past any awkwardness.
If anything that comment made her more unnerved. She coughed over a strained laugh, wiping the corner of her eyes.
“Why are you in my room?” She asked, sitting up at last. One of the silken, peach colored straps of her camisole had fallen down, exposing an entirely naked line of neck and shoulder he had a sudden urge to cover with his mouth. She stared expectantly and Cullen realized he hadn’t heard what she’d said.
His eyes flicked back to hers. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she supplied. “I bathed and then – I was just too tired to come back down. I should have sent someone to tell you, but I fell asleep…”
It was his turn to look confused. “You didn’t expect me in my own room?”
“Your room?” Charlotte peered around as if appraising the space. “This is my room. Who?” He tracked her gaze. As she spied his sword and shield in the corner at last, her eyes widened. They both spoke at once.
“…Josephine and Leliana made all the arrangements, perhaps they assumed…”
“…I wouldn’t have just plopped into bed had I known…”
They were both silent for a moment. A question sizzled in the air as they looked at one another. His jacket was still open and she stared at the planes of his chest not covered by his undershirt, as mesmerized by the skin there as he’d been with her neck. She gulped visibly, the soft line of her throat swallowing hard. A lump of nerves most likely, the same kind that had stolen his speech without warning. Did she want him to leave? Should he offer to leave? Wasn’t that the proper thing to do?
“…I can find another room if…”
“…Do you want to stay with…”
They smiled as their words crashed over one another again. Charlotte laughed, flush rising all the way to the roots of her hair. “This shouldn’t be so difficult. It’s both our room. We can share.”
He didn’t want to presume anything. Cullen didn’t relish the idea of sleeping on the settee, but if she wasn’t ready, he wasn’t going to push. He stood up, leaving an indent in the plush bed covers.
“I can sleep by the fire.”
“Or with me,” she said steadily. “If you want – I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“You don’t,” he stated. She shook her head.
“We both had difficult days. I’ll fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow again.”
He doubted that, but said nothing. He’d probably not get much sleep next to her, but the prospect didn’t sound too bad. Cullen had experienced enough restless nights for far worse reasons.
Charlotte shuffled over from her place in the middle of the bed and watched as he undressed. Cullen removed everything save his underclothes, folding his dress uniform neatly over the back of a nearby chair. Her things must have been in an armoire somewhere for him to have missed them entirely. He turned back to face her and Charlotte held up the down blanket, exposing her legs and the ridden-up edge of her night-rail. He gladly accepted the invitation, sliding in next to her, yet not touching. His arms itched to hold her, even if innocently. All the chaos of the day was culminating in such a sweet mess of a moment, but the most intimate they’d been to this point was kissing outside of his office. Sharing a bed was skipping so many layers of intimacy – or at least he guessed by his limited experience in the matter. Not that he hadn’t slept with others before. Those times had always been expressly casual. This was not.
He laid on his back, straining to think of  mundane things as she settled on her side, facing him. Charlotte sighed softly as she squirmed into a comfortable position.
“Goodnight,” she said, blinking sleepily already.
He moved without thinking, kissing her on the cheek as he might if she was leaving his office for the evening. It angled his whole body towards hers, a hand on her shoulder, over the fallen strap that had been brought back into place. “Goodnight,” he replied after the soft kiss, whispering against her skin. He didn’t lean back away, hadn’t moved at all really, his mouth still close to her cheek. The growing tension between them was clear to both; her chest rose as heavily as his. Her eyes were no longer tired, and her lips began to form a word he wasn’t ready to hear. Cullen slid his hand up her neck to cup her face, and angled in to kiss her earnestly. She moaned softly into his mouth, a little hopeless sigh from her throat. Charlotte scooted closer, Cullen pushed his trapped arm beneath her neck and the pair molded against one another. He smoothed her side under the bed covers and she placed both her palms on his chest. Not too push him away, but with uncertainty of what to do next.
He broke away from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “We don’t have to continue,” he offered.
“But can we?” she said, surprising him. “I’ve been thinking far too much about the ‘when’ and now this opportunity has fallen into our laps. I don’t have any reasons why we should wait any longer.” He pulled back to better look at her and she grinned slowly. “If I hadn’t been covered in blood spatter earlier I may have suggested it.”
Nothing from earlier could reach him now. Laying with her there, it seemed a whole different place or time. The pampered, pompous Orlesians were far from mind. Not when the woman he loved was asking to be made love to. He kissed her again, fiercer. His fingers wove into her hair, her arms circled his neck. He wedged a leg between hers and she rocked against him, testing the new ground. He slipped down the strap of her night-rail and kissed that tempting slope of her neck, sending shivers everywhere. He sucked against the spot and she murmured, “bless Josie and Leliana their mischief.”
With a bolt of sudden realization, Cullen chuckled against her shoulder. That’s why the two had been smirking. Not because he was a poor sport, but because they’d set him up.
“I think you’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d said I’d expected to hate this entire pointless trip.”
“But not anymore.” She ran a palm over his back. “Orlais isn’t so bad?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said dryly, picking her up and dumping her onto her back. Charlotte giggled, taking his face in her hands. He kissed the side of a wrist. “But there’s nowhere else I would rather be.”
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starlightwrites · 6 years
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Sleepover
It is Leather and Lace Romance Week 2018! Thank you @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty for hosting! <3
Day 1: Two people/One Bed, Featuring Cressida Ryder, Liam Kosta, and just so much awkwardness!
They could have all crammed back onto the Tempest and slept the night there like usual, but no one wanted to get back onto the ship now that there was a real, true-blue colony up and running. There were only a handful of settlers so far—maybe twenty or so—and only a few buildings had been set up inside the safe zone, but it was better than breathing recycled air on a ship again. Even Kallo left the deck and paced around Podromos, stretching his limbs and kicking up sand.
That was how they ended up fitting the whole crew—everyone from Lexi to Jaal—into the prefab on the lake. Everyone was bunking up like this. There had only been five buildings established so far, and everyone was taking turns in sleeping bags and cots. It was only fair that the Tempest crew bunk together.
There were only a few cots, though.
Vetra staked her claim first, setting a datapad down on the pillow of a cot against the wall. No one dared move it. Drak caught wind of that and holed up in the corner of the second floor room, which was half full of boxes and to-be-assembled furniture. Lexi snagged the side room that overlooked the water and set up against the window. Kallo and Suvi followed, and when Cora noticed them snagging spaces, she grabbed for one of the fold-up cots and dragged it over to join them. The four had set the room up like an Alliance dormitory—a bed in each corner with sheets tucked so tight you could bounce a credit chit off them. Jaal made camp in the middle of the room. When Cress asked about it, he shrugged and told her that most Angaran families shared big common spaces together. Fair enough. Peebeee stumbled in late and saw that all the cots were taken, so she called dibs on the bathtub. That just left her and Liam, who had been too busy struggling to assemble the brand-new coffee maker and turned back around to find that everyone had already situated themselves.
Looks like they’d have to share a couch, then.
They ate dinner outside with the rest of the settlers, like one big picnic. It didn’t get dark on Eos, but everyone disbanded at around the same time. Body clocks and all that. Settling was hard work, and everyone had spent the day pitching in and getting lab equipment set up. Lexi seemed to be the deciding factor on bedtime for the Tempest crew, but if anyone disagreed, they didn’t argue. She activated the window dimmers as they entered the prefab and bid everyone goodnight. Peebee said she was going to a walk for a bit, but most everyone else decided to change out of the day’s dusty clothes and hunker down. Like one big pajama party. Cressida changed into her sweats and climbed the stairs to the second floor. She must have beat Liam up, because it was just her and a snoring Drak. Out light a light, the poor old man. She stifled a giggle. Grandpa Drak watching over the two youngins. Make sure no one gets into any mischief.
Not that they would, of course.
Liam? Her? No.
Not that she didn’t think Liam was attractive. Not that she did find him attractive, necessarily. Well, he was very attractive, but that didn’t—
She tamped down the thought and stretched out on the couch. Enough of that. She was the Pathfinder for the human Ark, not a middle-schooler at a dance. The door across the room slid open and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Just Liam. Take a deep breath.
Oh.
Wait.
Just shirtless Liam. She forgot. Liam slept without a shirt.
I mean, if she looked like that, she’d probably walk around everywhere without a shirt, so she really couldn’t blame him. The windows had been tinted to darken the room, but she was probably blushing so hard her face looked like a nightlight.
Liam’s eyes were still adjusting. He half-tripped over Drak’s duffle, and then dropped onto the couch, sitting on her shins.
“Shit! Ryder!”
Cress curled up right as Liam jumped back to his feet, and at the same time, they both whispered “sorry!”
Liam pat the couch before sitting back down, and even in the dark she could make out his grin.
“Looks like we’re sharing, eh Pathfinder?”
“Yeah, I should have known no one would want to stay on the ship.” She tugged at the blanket she’d pulled around her and offered Liam a corner. His fingers brushed hers when he accepted. She shivered. “First night on Podromos is one big sleepover.”
“Makes me think of being at a really intense summer camp. Like in a movie,” he whispered.
“Camp Deadly Radiation?” She wrapped her arms around her knees and leaned forward.
“Something like that.” He pulled the blanket up and tucked it in around his hips, feet stuffed under the couch cushions. The air was sill. The prefab had clean plastic smell about it—everything was fresh out of the box. At least the couch wasn’t half bad. Her bed was better, but it was nice to spend some time groundside without dodging bullets. Building instead of shooting. She started to get comfy, but accidentally kicked Liam in the shins. He shifted a little.
“We should head to—”
“Probably bedtime—”
They both stopped and Liam laughed quietly.
“Right,” Cress whispered. “So we can sleep like this?”
“Yeah! Sure.”
She stretched her legs out so they could sleep head-to-foot, but accidentally kicked Liam another two times in the process. When they were finally settled, they were both trying so hard not to touch each other that he was half on the floor, and she was sinking into the crack between the seat cushions and the back of the couch. She rolled a little as she started to fall asleep, but woke herself up kicking Liam yet again. Fourth time? He was going to wake up with bruises and everyone would think she’d clobbered him. She heard a quiet chuckle in the dark.
“Comfortable?”
“Yup! Yeah, totally comfortable.” Her arm had disappeared into the couch, probably never to be seen again. “Just like home.”
“Really?”
“No. Sorry, no not at all. You?”
“I mean, it could be worse.”
She sat back up at around the same time he did.
“Ryder, I’m not being fresh, but it might be easier to...ah.”
“Snuggle up?” She really hoped that was where he was going with this, because otherwise she was the one being fresh. She shot a glance over at Drak, but their whispered conversation didn’t even make him twitch.
“Yeah. Just for tonight, I mean. Since there’s not a lot of space.”
“Okay. Yeah.” She got up on her knees and tried to climb over as best she could without planting her hand somewhere she shouldn’t. She finally got herself comfortable, tucked into Liam’s side. For a bit, they tried sleeping back-to-back, but she kept pushing him off when she started to doze. It wasn’t her fault she was kinda a selfish sleeper. In her defense, she wasn’t used to sharing, and her room aboard the Tempest had a queen-sized bed. Pretty luxurious for space. She had gotten used to spreading out.
Liam rolled over and she could feel the heat of his chest against her back. He slipped one arm under her head, and let one drape over her side. Nested together like that, they fit perfectly. Better than perfectly. She was more comfortable than she’d be back on the ship. Maybe it was just that she had gone a while on her own, without anyone to snuggle up to (but, if she was being honest, it wasn’t really that). His knees curled behind hers. When she stretched out her toes, she could brush the tops of his feet.
Oh no.
This was perfect.
She liked this a lot more than she should. There were probably logical, non-crush, non-awkward reasons why. There had to be. She was definitely just a little touch-starved. She was a huggy person, and most of her crew was not, and she was under a lot of stress. That must have been it. Just needed a hug. A nice, platonic hug. But then he shifted, and his hand was on her side, and she wanted to lace her fingers with his and turn back around and plant a kiss on his lips. Did she kiss people platonically? No. Had she ever, in her life? No. Nope. Never had the urge to kiss Kallo or Drak. Not platonic. Definitely not platonic. Oh no.
This was bad.
Liam had worked in crisis response, right? Maybe he was just used to sleeping in make-shift camps and wouldn’t notice how she was practically melting. People probably melted all over him all the time. Ugh, that thought went somewhere gross. She pushed that down before realizing that shit was she getting a little jealous thinking that someone else might have had a crush on him too? Why even think about that?! Stupid brain!
“Ryder?” His breath traced across the back of her neck and wow. She shivered head to foot and had to take a deep breath to regain control of herself.
“Mmhm?”
“Is this alright? You seem really tense.” Still whispering, of course, because people were sleeping, and it would be rude to talk at full volume. But he was whispering right in her ear, and her mind went a thousand places it definitely should not have gone.
“I’m fine. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He paused for a second, and she could feel his arm twitch under her head. “You sure you’re alright? I can move if you want.”
She should definitely tell him that they should move.
“That’s okay, Liam. I’m comfy.” Shit.
“Right. Night then, Ryder.”
“Night.”
If he could see her now, Scott would be laughing so hard he’d probably bust a rib. He’d always been more of a Casanova; he’d pat her on the back and say he didn’t know she had it in her. Then he’d probably wink and say something gross about how if he’d managed to get Liam into bed, he wouldn’t have wasted time panicking. She blushed to her hairline and resolved to never ever tell Scott about this ever. She’d never live it down. They talked about everything, but he would never hear about this.
Well, she hadn’t done this on purpose. But she also hadn’t suggested setting up another one of the couches, and not just because it would be a massive pain in the ass.
Liam’s breathing leveled out. He was probably really asleep now, but oh no that was worse. Asleep, he was completely relaxed. She could feel the soft whoosh of his breath against her skin, and his hand slipped down onto her stomach, palm flat and fingers stretched out. He had big hands, with warm palms. She could practically feel those fingers pressing into her hips, pulling her in close, tracing down her skin…
No. Stop that.
Professional. Be a professional.
She shifted and her hips brushed his, and she felt something move against the back of her thigh. Oh. Cress bit down on her lip. Sweatpants, not armor. Right. Was it getting hot in here? She was feeling really warm all of the sudden. She started to move again, but Liam’s arm locked around her waist, and he buried his face in her shoulder.
What would he do if she kissed him? Not while he was asleep, of course. She wasn’t a creep. But when they woke up? If she rolled over and kissed his cheek?
Stop that.
In the morning, they’d get up, brush their teeth, and get dressed. No kissing. Besides, she’d have morning breath, and no one liked to kiss with morning breath. And in the morning, she would go back to being his Pathfinder. Was that harassment? Was a Pathfinder like a Boss? She still hadn’t figured out the rules on that. Oh no, did that mean that she could only date other Pathfinders? They hadn’t found any other Pathfinders. No, that was silly. She pushed the thought back down and noticed that her hand had twined with his over her stomach. How had that happened?! She slid her fingers from his and jammed her hand under her side. There. Safe.
Liam slept pretty soundly, wrapped around her. Her thoughts buzzed like a kicked hornets nest trapped in her skull, but eventually, the stress and heavy-lifting from the day finally settled over her. After a while, she started to drift to sleep.
She was very comfortable when she woke up. Rested, cozy, soft and safe. This was the life. She burrowed down into the warm, giving herself a few more minutes in bed before Button woke her up for breakfast. Pyjaks woke up early; she was surprised he hadn’t crawled over onto her before now.
Then she remembered. No pyjack. She wasn’t aboard the Tempest.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Liam.
She opened her eyes to see Liam, hands behind his head, lounging with his shoulders propped up on a pillow. She was plastered to his chest, completely on top of him with her legs on either side of his hips and her arms around his waist. Her cheek had been rested on his sternum.
Shit. Shit.
She scrambled to get up, but just ended up sitting on his lap which was worse. He shot up and grunted when she tried to disentangle herself; she must have kneed him. She tried to get her leg clear so she wasn’t straddling him (oh god she’d been straddling Liam), but overcorrected and threw herself right off the couch and onto the floor. She blinked a couple of times. Floor. Ow.
She glanced over at the corner, but Drak was already gone for the day. Which meant that he’d probably seen her all over Liam. At least he hadn’t just seen her make a complete fool out of herself, but this was bad.
Liam laughed quietly, stretching out a hand to help her up. She accepted, pulled herself onto her feet, and sat back down on the opposite end of the couch, knees curled up to her chest. Taking up no more than one cushion, so that there was no chance of them touching.
“You alright, Pathfinder?”
“Fine.”
She thought she would die. This was it. This was what killed the second human Pathfinder. On her tombstone, it would just say “Liam Kosta’s Smile.” Or maybe “Liam Kosta’s Dumb Face.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin and fidgeted with the strap of her Blasto tank top. Oh even worse; she’d forgotten she’d worn the Blasto tank top of all things. Like a ten-year-old. Great. Icing on the cake.
She glanced back over at Drak’s abandoned cot. “So where did he—?”
“Gone before I woke up, I think.” Liam stretched and grabbed for the window remote on the coffee table. The dimmer faded, letting bright sunlight stream into the room. “Woke up early. You know how old people are about sleeping in.”
“Yeah.”
She should just say it. So about last night…? But Liam looked so relaxed, arms folded over his stomach, yawning. She still wanted to kiss him. Yup, lean right over and plant a kiss on his cheek, and maybe then his lips, and maybe also his shoulder. Maybe everywhere. Part of her thought she’d be back to normal in the morning, but nope. It was too late now; she wanted Liam Kosta. A lot.
“Sorry,” she blurted out. “For. Uhm. You know.”
“What?” He blinked for a second, but then grinned. “Aw, that? That’s alright. Hard to share without getting a little close, right?”
“Right.”
“Besides, the old man didn’t wake me up to give me any shit, so I think we’re alright. We’ll know we’re in trouble if he starts giving us the birds and the bees talk.”
“He wouldn’t.” Her cheeks burned up.
“I don’t know, Ryder. Seems a little like he’s adopted you.” Liam yawned again through a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he corners me in the cargo bay and asks my intentions.”
She buried her face in her hands and groaned.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him I’ll have you home by ten.”
Yup. She was dying. She was probably blushing so hard the heat would incinerate her. She’d burn right up. She felt the couch cushions shift and when she dropped her hands, Liam was right there in her space, warm brown eyes staring into hers.
“Ryder, it’s alright. I don’t think he noticed. Besides, we’re adults.” He pulled himself up off the couch and when the sun touched his skin, she thought she was dying all over again. “You’re not uncomfortable, right?”
“No.” She should be.
“Then we’re good!” He ruffled her hair as he crossed the room to grab his overnight bag and head down stairs. Warmth bloomed over her skin, eking down her scalp and over her shoulders, pooling in her gut. There was a giddy bubble in her chest, growing out until she thought she’d pop like a balloon. That was when she realized she was in more trouble than she’d thought. She didn’t just like Liam Kosta. Oh no. 
The door slid shut behind him. She pulled the blanket up over her head, sank down into the couch, and decided to never speak of this to anyone ever.
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trajektoria · 6 years
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LEATHER & LACE ROMANCE WEEK - Mreyder Prompt 1
Okay, so here it is! The first prompt for the Leather & Lace event hosted by @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty. I hope you’ll like it. Reblogs and comments are love <3
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1.       Two People/One Bed
“Mhm, I like it…”
Hearing that, Reyes turned his head slightly to have a better look at his lover. Not that he could see much in their current position, his view obscured most deliciously by Scott’s forehead and his messed-up hair.
Not many people were privy to the information that the Pathfinder was a cuddle monster, unrelenting and eager, taking every opportunity to clutch to his significant other like an octopus. Especially after sex, the bonelessness of an afterglow only encouraging him to seek more affection and connection.
Not that Reyes minded.
Not at all.
Lazily, he carded his fingers through the tousled and damp strands, making Scott sigh and melt even further. They had been dating for quite a while now and yet every night spent together on the Tempest still felt like a treat.
“What do you like in particular, hm?” Reyes asked, amusement clear in his voice. “There’s plenty of things to enjoy here.” Acting on an impulse he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to – and he definitely didn’t – he pressed his lips against Scott’s warm skin. The Pathfinder smiled.
“You know, everything. Just the two of us lying in bed like this. It’s… nice.”
Reyes hummed to agree with him, but not without some pensiveness thrown into the mix.
“Well, technically, it’s three of us.”
Scott blinked, his eyelashes fluttering against Reyes’ cheek.
“Three?”
“Are you there, SAM?” Reyes asked, a lopsided smile curving his lips.
“I am always here, Reyes.”
“See?” he said triumphantly, almost able to hear the blood rush to Scott’s cheeks.
“Thanks. You just made it weird.” The Pathfinder hid his face in Reyes’ neck.
“Me? It’s not me who has a fancy AI stuck in my head who sees everything I do.”
There was a beat of silence. Reyes thought that Scott wouldn’t reply but eventually his lover muttered an answer, so quickly that it came out all garbled.
“I asked him to give me some privacy when I’m in intimate situations,” Reyes managed to decipher.
He chuckled, stroking Scott’s back fondly.
“But he’s still there anyway, isn’t he?”
“Well, yeah…”
It was Reyes’ turn to fall silent. SAM and his connection with Scott fascinated him, he couldn’t deny it. He often thought about how it must feel to live in such tight symbiosis with an artificial organism who had access not only to your physical body but also to your senses and your mind. And as useful as it could be, if given the opportunity, Reyes knew he’d decline. No one was allowed to poke around in his brain, no, thank you.
“SAM?”
“Yes, Reyes?”
“You and Scott share everything, right? You’re like a… passenger in his body, experiencing the world through him, yes?”
“You can put it that way, yes.”
“So what do you feel when we have sex? Is it awkward for you?”
“Reyes, really?” Scott groaned, rolling his eyes, his face boiling red.
SAM didn’t reply immediately. Maybe the question was uncomfortable to him as well. Or maybe he just needed to run it through more algorithms.
“No, it is not awkward. It is a part of human biology and thus something perfectly normal. Besides, I am, for all intents and purposes, a machine. I do not have feelings.”
“Bullshit,” Reyes said with a smile. “You’re far more than just a simple machine. You must experience something.”
“Well, I certainly notice the rise of blood pressure, pulse rate and breathing, just as I do the gathering of seminal fluid in the urethral bulb right before the ejaculation of the semen. And of course, the release of dopamine when–”
“Okay, SAM, stop,” Scott demanded. He climbed on top of Reyes, his serious but endearingly flushed face hovering right above Reyes’. “And you stop too. I really don’t want to know what SAM feels in regard to my orgasms. That’s just… no. Don’t. Too much information.”
Reyes grinned in that impish way he knew Scott loved. He could get away with a lot of things by smiling like that. There were some lines, though, that he shouldn’t cross. He decided to drop the topic of orgasm, as interesting as it was. For now.
“So how do you feel about me, SAM?”
“In what way, Reyes?”
“As in me being with Scott. And quit stalling.”
Again, SAM took some time to answer, as if really pondering the question. Scott seemed to be listening intently, curious – and maybe anxious – for the answer.  
“Scott has chosen you as his romantic and sexual partner. Being with you makes him happier and more relaxed than he was before you two met. I believe he experiences the feeling of love towards you and the evidence I have gathered points to the conclusion that his affection is reciprocated. That is why I have nothing against you being with Scott. On the contrary, I think that relationship is beneficial to the Pathfinder’s mental and emotional health, so I am in favor of it.”
Reyes smiled and poked Scott’s side, seeing that his lover looked relieved.
“See? We have SAM’s blessing.”
“That’s great,” he replied, rolling back onto the bed and returning to shameless cuddles. “You can stop grilling him now.”
“Why?” Reyes chuckled, placing a kiss on Scott’s forehead. “You look adorable when you’re embarrassed.”
“Say that again and you’re sleeping on the couch from now on.”
Reyes laughed, reached for the blanket and covered them both to the tops of their heads, locking Scott in a tight embrace.
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ma-sulevin · 6 years
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Blizzard
Day 1 of Leather and Lace Week is one of my all-time favorite tripes: two people/one bed. Here, we have Suvi and Artemis facing this conundrum during what should have been an easy trip to the Resistance BAse on Voeld. Pre-relationship, but not pre-admissions-of-feelings.
Also on AO3.
“Oh, Art, let’s go to the Resistance base!” Artemis’ echoes Suvi’s words from just a few hours earlier, affecting the older woman’s accent with remarkable skill. “What could go wrong? I’ll just talk to the scientists there for hours and--”
“I do not sound like that,” Suvi interjects, hands on her hips, nose wrinkled, sounding exactly like that. “You didn’t have to come. I didn’t know there would be a blizzard!”
Artemis’ smile is bright and immediate. “I can’t say no to you, Suvi.” This, much to Artemis’ delight, makes Suvi blush and look away and press her lips together to hide a smile. “And I didn’t know there would be a blizzard either. It’s not like SAM can tell the future.”
“Local weather patterns indicated a storm was a possibility,” SAM acknowledges, voice ringing out from Artemis’ omnitool so that Suvi can hear him too. “ However, I thought the likelihood not great enough to mention. My apologies, Pathfinder, Dr. Anwar. ”
“Oh, it’s alright, SAM,” Suvi says, blush finally receding, just as Artemis says, “Would you call us by our first names, please?”
“Of course. Goodnight, Artemis and Suvi,” SAM says, then falls silent once more, leaving the two women alone in the little bedroom the angara cleared out for them when it was clear the blizzard wouldn’t let them drive back to the Tempest.
It was kind of the Resistance members to make room for them at all, much less give them a whole room to share. It’s not like there’s a lot of extra rooms warm enough for two humans to sleep in this cave system on a planet almost entirely ice. Artemis had been prepared to sleep in the back of the Nomad before Heckt announced they were guests.
Except… Artemis finds herself staring at the one bed in the room, shoved against the corner, big enough for a single angara and therefore technically big enough for two human women, but still… just one bed. She looks back at Suvi to see she’s thinking the same thing, eyeing the pile of Resistance-issued linens like she’s not sure this trip was worth it after all.
“Well,” Artemis starts, then falls silent again. She and Suvi have been flirting -- a lot -- but that doesn’t mean they’re ready for something like this. But then again… maybe she’s overthinking it. She’s shared a bed with friends, both male and female, before and it’s never mattered. One of her first days on the Tempest she napped on Liam’s couch with him watching a vid on the other end, her feet in his lap.
She’s definitely making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.
She starts again: “Ah, I guess we might as well get some sleep while we can.”
Beside her, Suvi nods and turns away before pulling off her white uniform gloves. Artemis moves away to give her a little space and starts pulling off her armor, carefully stacking it in the corner. She starts to shiver as she pulls her undersuit off, leaving her in just a practical sports bra, tank, and shorts, but she pauses long enough to dim the lights before ducking into the bed beside Suvi on the side of the mattress closer to the door, just in case.
Artemis takes a long moment to catch her breath and pretend like her heart isn’t beating out of her chest before she peeks out from under her half of the blankets to peer at her friend.
Suvi is on her back, arms over her stomach, staring up at the dark ceiling, her lower lip firmly between her teeth. She turns her head to offer Artemis a little smile after just a moment, drawn by the feeling of Artemis’ eyes on her face.
“Hello,” Suvi says, voice barely above a whisper.
Artemis pulls the blanket down farther to expose her whole face to the chilly air and Suvi’s gaze. “Hi.”
A pause, then, as they both search for something to say. Artemis’ brain is overwhelmed by being so close to Suvi with so many hours to go before morning. They’ve spent plenty of time talking, they’ve spent hours messaging back and forth, but… this is undeniably the closest they’ve ever been.
Artemis’ gaze dip to Suvi’s lips then snap back up to her eyes. Her traitorous cheeks turn pink, so she snuggles a little deeper in the covers and watches as Suvi’s smile grows.
“We should sleep,” Suvi says, but instead of closing her eyes, she rolls onto her side to face Artemis. The blanket slips below her shoulder, exposing a strip of warm brown skin Artemis has never seen before under the strap of a white tank top. She pulls the blanket back up and shivers a little, but her expression doesn’t change.
“Did you have fun with the scientists here?” Artemis asks, desperate to keep the conversation going, desperate to know this beautiful woman just that much better.
As she expected, Suvi’s face completely lights up. “Yes,” she breathes, already winding herself up to tell Artemis everything she learned even though Artemis won’t understand most of it. It’s worth it just to see the excitement on Suvi’s face as she talks. “The angara here know so much about the way Voeld used to be, and about the yevara, and most of it is folklore, but it’s obviously rooted in fact--”
She goes on until she realizes she’s rambling and cuts herself off with a weak giggle. “I’m sorry. I got excited. You don’t want to hear about this.”
“I asked, didn’t I?” Artemis says, gently, and then finally gives into the temptation to reach out and push a lock of hair behind Suvi’s ear. Her fingers linger along Suvi’s cheekbone for a long moment before she pulls back. “I’ve told you before I can listen to you talk about science for hours.”
Suvi giggles and presses her face deeper into her pillow until she can only see Artemis out of one eye. “You might regret that one day.”
“Never.” The seriousness in her tone surprises even her, and she blinks rapidly before opening her mouth again to say -- to say what? To apologize? To take it back? She doesn’t want to take the promise back, she wants the chance to prove it. “I, uh… we should get some sleep, I guess. Before I say anything else.”
Suvi’s face, still half hidden, softens, and she chews on her lips as she thinks. Artemis watches, holding her body perfectly still in an effort to behave and resist the temptation to reach out for Suvi again, no matter how heartbreakingly strong it is.
“Can you sleep when it’s this cold?” Suvi’s voice is quiet and, briefly, stops Artemis’ heart.
The answer is, of course, yes. Artemis can sleep almost anywhere, and she hasn’t been cold since the blankets warmed to the slightly-higher-than-normal temperature of her body.
Suvi, though, isn’t a biotic, and her shoulders are still hunched under her share of the blanket. It’s hard to tell in the dim lighting, but Artemis thinks she can see a blush along her cheekbone.
“Are you still cold?” It’s a stupid question, but Suvi nods anyway. Her hair rustles against the pillow. “Do you want me to, um--” she trails off, squinting, trying to figure out how exactly to initiate her shifting desire to wrap her arms around Suvi and bury her face in her hair. “If you roll over, I can…”
Suvi rolls to her other side by moving closer to Artemis, and as she moves, Artemis can see the wide smile twisting her lips. Artemis closes the last of the distance between them to wrap her arms around Suvi, gathering her up and holding her close before finally giving in and burying her face in Suvi’s soft red hair.
“Oh, you’re warm,” Suvi coos, snuggling closer and pressing her bare toes between Artemis’. She tugs the blanket more snuggly around their shoulders and sighs in quiet contentment.
Artemis, SAM’s voice in her mind makes Artemis jump a little, but she covers for it by squeezing Suvi a little tighter for a moment. Your dopamine levels have spiked.
Artemis huffs out a laugh that makes Suvi squirm a little.
“What is it?”
Artemis laughs again and gives into temptation, just once more, to press a soft kiss to Suvi’s shoulder. “SAM just told me that I’m happy.”
Suvi reaches up and runs her hand up and down Artemis’ arm before gently squeezing and falling still. “I’m happy, too.”
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vorchagirl · 6 years
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Whiskey & Lies
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For Day 2 of Leather & Lace (Fake Relationships/Engagements/Marriages) I’ve decided to write some fReyder with Sara & Reyes from my fic Gonna Get Close To You - but set during the early days before they start dating!  Enjoy! (Art is by the amazing @beragera)
Whiskey & Lies
“Oh no!” Reyes’ groan of dismay pulled Sara out of her temporary day dream about not being the Pathfinder, and she glanced up to see him staring horror-stricken at the entrance to Tartarus. “He’s back!”
“What? Who’s back?”
She craned her neck to see who it was making the famed smuggler look positively green around the gills, and caught sight of a rowdy looking party of men coming through the doors wearing Outcast armour. One of them, a swaggering blonde who looked like he could bench press the Mako, glanced over in their direction and smirked, nudging his companion.
“Who’s-“
Reyes shushed her, and before she knew what was happening, he slid an arm around her waist and hauled her onto his lap. The temptation to slap him washed over her momentarily - sure they’d flirted, but it was quite another thing to act like this! - but then he winked at her, and she checked the urge.
“Play along,” he murmured, sliding his lips close to her ear. “I’ll explain later.”
The rest is under a cut!
Sara forced herself to relax and curled an arm around his neck. “You’d better. And you owe me another drink for this.”
He shook his head. “A bottle. I’ll give you a whole bottle, Ryder.”
She rolled her eyes and turned back with interest to the Outcasts who were heading in their direction like an unstoppable wave, bowling people over and shoving them out of their way. Her eyes, missing nothing, saw Kian watching from behind the bar, but to her surprise he looked amused instead of worried.
What on Earth was going on?
Just as the husky blonde neared them, Reyes swept her into a passionate kiss. Sara made a little ‘mmmph!’ of surprise, but clung onto him tightly, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and letting him take the lead.
And really, she thought distractedly, it was a very nice kiss.
Reyes knew what he was doing.
His lips teased hers apart and his tongue flicked against hers in a teasing motion; sweet, hot and tasting like a mixture of whiskey and toffee. The kiss was warm, velvety, and infinitely tender, and Sara let her eyes flutter closed as Reyes smoothed a hand down her back, the motion of his gloved fingers sending tingles straight to her core. She shivered, and he moaned in response, the arm around her waist tightening.
Someone cleared their throat. Loudly. And Reyes slowly, and reluctantly pulled away, giving her one last lingering kiss that sent her head spinning off in another direction. Possibly all the way back to the Milky Way. All this time she’d been hanging out with the guy, helping him with missions, drinking whiskey, and she’d never known what a sexy kisser he could be.
Sara gave herself a small shake and turned to see the blonde glaring at them, his friends fanned out imposingly. Instantly she noted their aggressive postures, and became just that little bit more conscious of her gun digging into her side holster. On the bar next to her was the empty whiskey bottle which would also make a good weapon if the blonde and his friends attacked them, and-
Her train of thought was interrupted as the man grinned and began to laugh. “Ah, little Anubis. I’m glad to see you’ve licked your wounds enough to move on. No more moping around and burying yourself in work.”
Reyes’ arm tightened around her waist, and Sara got the signal; to do nothing and say nothing.
“Moping around? After you?” Reyes laughed softly and trailed a hand through Sara’s hair. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve moved onto bigger and better things with the Pathfinder here.” He flicked his fingers in a gesture of dismissal. “Bye now.”
“The Pathfinder!” The blonde wasn’t quick enough to hide his look of surprise and he blinked at Sara as though seeing her for the first time. Which he probably was, she thought, given that he’d looked straight through her. “You and the Pathfinder, huh? Not your usual trashy piece of-“
Reyes cleared his throat and Sara felt the air ice up around them. “I’d choose your next words carefully, Horus.”
At that, Sara had to stifle a laugh, and both men turned to look at her. The blonde looked offended, and Reyes looked mildly annoyed at her interruption, but she didn’t care. The whole Egyptian Gods thing was too funny.
Lover’s nicknames? She wondered.
“Look boys, you can sort this thing out between you all you want. Fight, argue, or have some sort of rap battle, whatever. But enough with the snippy retorts.” She wriggled off Reyes’ lap and turned to wink at him so his blonde friend wouldn’t see. She leaned forward and gave him a very enthusiastic kiss. “Sweetie, I’ll wait for you upstairs. And when you’re finished with Hawk Eye here, you can come upstairs and join me.”
Reyes actually flushed, and to her surprise he stood up and slipped an arm around her waist. “I’ll join you now. I’m sure Hor-Hawk Eye won’t mind, seeing as how he’s so glad I’ve moved on.”
The blonde gaped at them as Reyes swept her away without another word. Once they were safely ensconced in his private room, she wriggled out from under his arm and turned to him with a brow raised.
“Anubis, huh? Can I be Bastet?”
He scowled. “Shut it, Pathfinder. It’s my callsign. We were shuttle pilot buddies before Sloane’s little uprising and we left together. I thought maybe we could make a go of it down here as a couple, but he joined the Outcasts and I-“ he drifted off and shrugged.
“You went on alone?” Sara supplied.
His hazel eyes flicked in her direction, something that could have been amusement briefly sparkling in them. “Something like that. But the bastard takes any opportunity to show up at Tartarus with whatever guy he’s with now to remind me of what I missed out on by walking away from him. I thought today was the perfect opportunity for some payback. I owe you one.” He offered her a glass. “Drink?”
“Yes please. So, you left him? The way he was talking, I thought he’d dumped you.” She accepted the tumbler and the whiskey. “Still, you’re lucky I’m a woman of loose morals or I might have left you hanging back there.”
Reyes smirked and watched her over the rim of his drink. “Yes, lucky me.” His eyes roved her body, and Sara found that she rather enjoyed the come hither look in them. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to end up with the Pathfinder on my lap and the taste of you on my lips, but I suppose some days I get luckier than others.”
“Indeed? Well in that case … .” Sara tossed back her drink then strode forward and claimed the rest of the bottle. “This,” she said as she tucked it under her arm, “is mine.” She started for the door and paused just inside of it, not surprised to see Reyes still watching her with a heated look in his eyes. She smirked. “And next time, Mister Vidal, if you play your cards right, you might end up with a whole lot more than just a few kisses from me.” She winked at him. “Just food for thought.”
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Text
Through Time
Last Day of the Leather&Lace Romance Week hosted by @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty.
Day Seven: Soulmates/Destined to be together
Words: 1943
You sat in the café, flipping through the pages of your book and occasionally sipping on your coffee. “Hey, Y/N!” your friend Amy exclaimed, plopping down next to you with a huge grin on her face. You closed your book and raised an eyebrow. “Spill it,” you said, as she seemed to almost burst with excitement. “I think I found her,” she said, eyes shining. She pointed towards her arm, where the name of her soulmate stood out in dark ink against her fair skin. “I mean, Evangeline isn’t the most common name and yesterday someone with that name ordered a coffee.” You smiled at her joy. Amy was working at your local Starbucks, which caused her to meet many people. The name had appeared on her skin on her eighteenth birthday, just as it was with everyone. “Well, what did you do?” you asked and she rubbed her neck. “I didn’t want to scare her off so I wrote my name and number on her cup. I hope it works,” she explained, suddenly sheepish and you grinned. “If she finds it, I’m sure she will call or text,” you encouraged her before pushing your book into your bag. She propped her elbows onto the table and leaned forward, asking, “Any updates on your side?” You shook your head, glancing at your covered up forearm and emptied your cup. “I have to get moving if I want to catch my train. We’ll keep in contact. And keep me updated, alright?” you said when you stood up and she nodded before waving goodbye.
The train ride was without any exciting events and you stared out of the window while listening to music. After a while, your eyes trailed down to your arm and you hesitantly rolled up your sleeve, running your index finger along the letters on your skin. James. With a sigh, you covered it up again and shook your head. Amy had been lucky with the name she wore but you? It couldn’t have been a more generic name. Once you arrived at your stop, you left the station and looked around to find the car already waiting for you. The driver opened the door for you and introduced himself as Happy. After you started he looked at you in the rear mirror. “So, you’re the new genius Tony has found in D.C., hm?” he asked and you nodded slightly. “He contacted me after he had read my dissertation. I was honestly surprised,” you responded and he nodded. “Well, I suppose you’re gonna make a good addition to the team. I hope you don’t mind the long way.” You shook your head. “I just hope my luggage has already arrived,” you commented and after he confirmed it, the rest of the drive went by quietly.
The Avenger’s headquarters was even more impressive than what you had expected. You exited the car and looked around in amazement. A red-haired woman approached you with a smile. “I’m Pepper Potts. Welcome, Dr Y/L/N,” she greeted you and you shook her hand. “Please, call me Y/N. The title makes it sound so formal.” She nodded with a smile and gestured you to follow her. While you were walking and she explained your position to you, you looked around the building. Finally, you reached the lab you would be working in in the future. In there, Mr Stark awaited you. He greeted you and showed you around, then He and Ms Potts accompanied you to your quarters before leaving you to unpack. With a huff, you sat down on the sofa, processing everything that had happened. You phone vibrated and with a smile you picked up the call. “Miss me already?” you joked and Amy laughed on the other side. “Just wanted to know if you arrived safely. And what your first impression is,” she answered and you leaned back. “It is huge, overwhelming and I think I’m actually freaking out a little. My room is almost as big as my freaking apartment. I have a kitchen and everything. I think I still need time to process that this is real and not just a dream.” The two of you continued talking about this and that for a while before you unpacked and finally went to bed.
---
After a couple of days you had settled in and were working on whatever Mr Stark gave you. You had decided to cover up the name on your arm with makeup so you could wear short sleeves if necessary. You were just redesigning the communicators when someone knocked on your door. “Come on in,” you said, mind focused on the plan. “Dr Y/L/N?” someone asked and you turned, faltering a moment when you laid your eyes on your visitor. You knew who he was after getting a short input on all the Avengers’ members. Finally, you nodded and gestured towards a chair. “Yes but please, drop the title. I don’t like the formality of it. Just call me Iris, like everyone else. How can I help you Mr Barnes?” He sat down and sent you a short smile. “Bucky’s enough. I was hoping you could take a look at my arm. We were hit with an EMP and it has shown some problems since then.” You nodded and rolled over on your chair, scanning his arm promptly. As you leaned forward to study the scans on your screen, he spoke up again. “You don’t have a tattoo?” he asked and you looked at him surprised. “Excuse me?” The man cleared his throat and pointed at you forearm. “I’m sorry, it’s probably personal but I just noticed that you don’t have one.” You simply shook your head and turned towards the screen, typing something in. “I have one but I prefer to cover it due to it being quite common. Also, you don’t have one yourself,” you commented and he looked down at his left arm that was lying on the table. They always appeared on the left arm so after he lost it, the tattoo had vanished as well.
“Yeah but I still remember the name. Never found her though and she’s either dead already or close to it.” He sounded sad somehow and you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to open up old wounds,” you apologised but he only shrugged slightly. “It’s fine. I just sometimes tend to imagine what could have been.” You nodded, understanding and pointed at the screen. “Seems like the blast fried some circuits. An easy repair but it might take some time. I suppose it isn’t made to be detachable, at least not after what the scans showed me, so you might have to put up with me for some time,” you explained and he sent you a short smile. “A sacrifice I’m willing to make. When do we start?” he asked and you stood up. “How about tomorrow? I wanted to finish up tweaking the communicators for today if that’s okay with you.” He nodded and tanked you before leaving you to your work.
In the next few days you frequently met up with him in your lab, repairing the insides of the arm piece by piece. You took your time to avoid mistakes and occasionally improved some details and also used it as an opportunity to get to know him better. You talked about a lot of things and after finishing your work, you had gotten quite attached to each other. He still visited you frequently, occasionally bringing you a coffee and a snack or you resided to your rooms to watch movies so he could catch up. One day, you were sitting on your sofa, a bowl of chips between you while watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. After the film finished, you turned off the TV and shifted so you looked at him. “Alright, I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, and tell me if I’m getting to forward but where does ‘Bucky’ come from?” you asked, genuinely curious. He laughed and put his arm up on the backrest. “My middle name, Buchanan,” he answered and you raised an eyebrow. “Is your first name better or worse?” you questioned with amusement in your voice. He shrugged and said, “Depends on your point of view. James is not as adventurous as Buchanan so it could come off as kind of boring.” That comment made you hesitate and you watched him intently while your right hand subconsciously covered the spot on your left arm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing your sudden change of mood. You thought about telling him for a moment but due to the common nature of the name, you could be entirely wrong. “I just realized something and I’m not sure if I’m right or wrong. I hope it isn’t too personal but what name did you have one your arm before...?” you asked, gesturing towards his metal arm and he furrowed his brow slightly at the drastic topic change. You actually expected him not to tell you but then he sighed and looked at you. “Y/N,” he said and it felt as if you couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Why’re you asking all of a sudden?”
Instead of an answer, you rolled up your sleeve and showed him the name on your skin. His eyes widened for a second, then he looked at you questioningly. “Well, it is quite common, like you said when we first met,” he said hesitantly and you could understand it. After everything he had been through, he wouldn’t want any false hopes. You inhaled deeply then looked him directly in the eye. “Iris is a nickname that came from a silly misunderstanding and I kind of adopted it. And since people around here started calling me by it as well, I just introduced myself like that to you,” you explained and fumbled with your sleeve. “My real name is Y/N,” you finally added and he inhaled sharply. “Are you telling me that your name was on my arm decades before you were born?” He sounded doubtful and you shrugged. “I don’t know but I think it is more likely than me being some kind of reincarnation of someone, right? And there have been crazier things around here so is it that unlikely?” you said and he seemed to relax more. “I suppose you’re right. Still, it’s kind of a shock. I never expected it to happen anymore.” You smiled slightly and responded, “Yeah, well, I expected ‘James’ to be some kind of lame IT-guy. Kind of glad you’re something entirely different,” you joked and he nudged your shoulder. “Good thing you like what I have to offer. How about dinner tonight then?” he suggested and you smiled. “Sounds good to me but I didn’t expect you to be a gentleman.” He laughed and took your hand. “I’m from the forties, doll. I may be able to swear like a sailor but they still taught children manners back in the day,” he responded and your smile grew wider.
“Well, even better. But what concerns me is that I have to explain to my mother that my soulmate is as old as her dad because he literally was born almost a century ago,” you teased. He only grinned and you looked at him, before leaning forward to press a short kiss on his lips. He looked at you in surprise and you sent him a wink. “Well, I guess she’ll get over it. And it’s kind of exciting that destiny put us together through time,” you added with a smile. “Now, where are we going to have dinner?”
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shaken-veil · 6 years
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It’s already past midnight and that worked so well for today’s subject for leather and lace week, so I took @seigephoenix‘s prompt for my Hunter OT3 and worked with it for today. 
Day 5. Trapped Together (16th Feb)
Original prompt:  Caught in a storm/Trapped Together for the Hunter OT3
~~~
“I know, we are both Arc users, Nevia. But going out in a storm like this, isn’t the wisest thing to do.” Shiro shook his head a little, as he leaned against the crumbling wall of a destroyed building in Old Russia. Summer thunderstorm. At least it wasn’t as cold, as it normally was in the region here.
The huntress crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the weather outside. It was raging. They couldn’t finish their patrol missions like this. There was no way, even the Fallen ran for cover instead of paying attention to their small shelter. Aside from everything, it was also getting dark. “Guess, this is going to be a cozy night..” Nevia actually wanted to spend the evening with her two boys on the couch, being lazy.
She heard Shiro making a noise, that came close to a snort, as he opened his comm device and typed something on it. After seeing her questioning gaze, he just shrugged. “Just gave our position and situation to the Vanguard. So they know, we’re stuck and Cayde won’t worry.”
“He always worries.”
“That he does. Come, let’s try to make this as comfortable as possible.” He opened the ties on his cloak and Nevia did the same. She spread hers out on the ground in a corner, which looked steady enough to not collapse on them. Both hunters sat down and Shiro pulled his cloak around their bodies. To get more comfortable, she dropped the plating of her Iron Banner gauntlets and kicked off her boots. His chestplate and boots followed her armor.
They snuggled together, wrapped in soft, yellow fabric. Nevia placed her head on Shiro’s shoulder, while he put his arm around hers. “Here, open a comm link to the tower.”, he told her and opened the small holoscreen coming from his wrist. The huntress typed in Cayde’s contact informations and established a video link. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for a familiar Exo-face to appear in front of them.
“Ah, if that’s not my two favorite, little Pole Dancers.”, the Vanguard greeted them, obviously lounging on his couch. The light falling on the wall at his back gave away, that he was probably doing exactly, what they originally planned. Nevia smiled softly at his words and Shiro chuckled. “You two look comfy.”
“Not nearly as comfy, as you, it seems. We’re kind of stuck here right now. Won’t be back until morning.”, his fellow Exo explained, while he had to start his sentence anew at some point, since the female hunter nuzzled her face against the soft material of his neck.
“Storm surprised you guys?”
“Not really.”, Nevia threw in, only muffled, since her mouth was mostly busy otherwise. “It’s Shiro’s fault.”
“It’s definitely not my fault, Nevia. Who wanted to track this fallen group across the whole Cosmodrome? Me or you?” Shiro pinched her side, causing her to giggle.
“You, of course.”
“Yeah, right.”
Cayde watched their interaction with a soft expression in his artificial eyes, accompanied by a longing to just pull them both into his arms right now. The other two turned her attention back to the screen, still catching glimpses of their partner’s loving gaze. Nevia blushed a little.
“We miss you.”, was all she said and Shiro just nodded in agreement, pressing his mouth plates carefully to her shaved head.
“Aw, I miss you two, as well. You will be home tomorrow in no time, hm? We can still be lazy then. Get a nap, before the Fallen get active around you again. Can’t have you two get hurt on my watch.” Cayde gave them a wink and shoved a snack into his mouth.
“We don’t need so much sleep, we’re not as old as you, Cayde.”, the younger Exo threw in.
Nevia laughed quietly at Shiro’s comment and nudged his side. “Good night, Cayde.”
“You both laugh at me for being old and rusty. I’ll show you, when you get back. Just you wait.” Then he cut the comm link and the broken building was silent for a while, until the huntress sighed and curled further against the other Exo’s body for warmth.
“You sleep, I’ll be here keeping watch.” He pulled her into his lap, when she couldn’t quite find a comfortable position, wrapped his arms around her smaller form, though Nevia was already dozing off, when he spoke those words.  
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bardofheartdive · 6 years
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Heads I’m Yours, Tails You’re Mine (Ch. 1)
For @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty‘s Leather and Lace Romance Week, @bioticfox and I decided to whip up a little Venko. Then we figured why write seven fics with one trope each, when we could write one fic with seven tropes? Chapter 1 is Two People, One Bed. (Also late, but who’s counting?)
Heads I’m Yours, Tails You’re Mine, Chapter 1 (Also on AO3)
While Alenko swept the apartment for bugs, James took it upon himself to get them settled. Unpacking their own surveillance equipment took a matter of minutes - given James’s technical ability he had been instructed in no uncertain terms to take it out of the cases and nothing more. Kaidan would have to actually set it up. James scrubbed the back of his neck as he unpacked the last box. Kaidan continued to scan the room, the orange glow highlighting every nook and cranny.
“Anything I can do to help?”
Kaidan frowned down at the gear strewn on the floor. They’d been given various wires and devices, a tripod, microphones, recorders, headsets, translators, and an assortment of expensive looking items James didn’t have a clue what to call. Based on the sheer quantity of equipment, it would take hours to get everything set up. There had to be something he could do.
“Snacks?” Kaidan said, after a moment’s deliberation. James snorted and turned on his heel, leaving Kaidan to rummage through the apparatus.
---
Three bags of pretzels, a protein bar, and half a tin of peanuts later, Kaidan heaved a sigh and stepped back from the desk.
“That does it,” he said, stretching his neck from side to side. “We should hit the sack; it’s going to be an early morning.”
Vega popped the last pretzel into his mouth and licked the salt off his fingers, then said, “There’s only one bed.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Kaidan said with a shrug.
“Pretty sure the ranking officer is supposed to get the bed.”
“That couch is a lumpy death trap. Pulling rank to avoid it would be cowardice under fire and conduct unbecoming.” He fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a coin. “Flip you for it.”
“Heads,” James called once the coin was in the air.
Kaidan glanced up at him and, in that brief second, the coin fell and rolled across the floor. It made a clunk as it collided with the wooden floor boards, and another when it slipped through the cracks. They both stared at the spot where it had disappeared then, at the same time, started laughing.
“I guess we could share it,” James suggested.
“Fine with me,” Kaidan answered. “I’m going to hit the shower. Don’t wait up.”
James nodded and retreated to the bedroom. He heard the water turn on as he pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and climbed into the bed, snuggling down under the covers. The duvet was warm and the pillows were soft - absolute heaven compared to the cots in the barracks - and James was asleep before Kaidan joined him.
---
James woke up with his face buried in the crook of Kaidan’s neck. To his relief, the major was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. For a minute he was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, lest he wake the older man. Then he realized that the only thing worse than being caught sleeping on him would be lingering while he was awake.
Slowly, carefully he rolled off the bed. Kaidan’s breath hitched and he stirred a little, turning his head toward the place where Vega had been. James froze, watching the man on the bed, hoping he wouldn’t wake up. Luck was on his side today; Kaidan shifted again, then relaxed, sound asleep.
Anyone who had ever laid eyes on Alenko could see that he was an attractive man. Having served in very close quarters with him, James knew this better than most. But nothing he’d seen on the Normandy came close to the way Kaidan looked right then. His physical features were the same - high cheekbones, full mouth, body a marine a decade younger would envy - but sleeping there was a peacefulness to him that was… well, honestly, beautiful.
James shook his head. This was worse than lingering while awake. He collected a change of clothes and headed for the shower.
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amarmeme · 6 years
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Between a Rock and a Hard Place
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Written for Leather & Lace 2018. Today’s prompt was “trapped together.” Before Day 5 ends, please accept my Habitat 7 AU where Harry Carlyle and Lyssa Ryder get stuck in a cave. 
The jarring sound of male grunting snaps Lyssa awake. The stranger’s determined efforts assault her eardrums despite her helmet, sore head pounding in time with her heartbeat. Lyssa wheezes as she rises to her elbows in caution, unsure if she’s injured. Her body hurts, a deep ache that echoes through bones, as if she's still falling, still hitting the ground over and over. The landing lights of the shuttle strobe on and off in time with her misery. Blue then green. Blue then green. What's visible in front of her is less than helpful. Her eyes follow the moss-covered rock face up, up, up to the crack in the cave ceiling where their shuttle wedged its way through. The small, white ship rests crumpled in its place, one side missing a wing and a door and the nose smashed inwards.  
The pilot...
Lyssa swallows her concern and eases her stiff body around to see who makes the racket behind her. This is not the time to get emotional, but practical. A giant palm-like tree obstructs her view and all she can identify is the person’s back. The entire Pathfinder team wears the same white and blue suits -- it could be any of her father’s crew. Except him; Alec Ryder always suits up in red. She thinks dimly that she should be concerned about not remembering who was in her shuttle.
“Hello,” she shouts. “Are you okay over there?”
The grunting stops. “Lyssa, is that you?”
Lyssa smiles to herself despite the situation. She knows that gravelly voice. “Yea, Doc, it’s me.” She tests getting up, taking it one movement at a time. Nothing feels broken, but if something is amiss, at least she’s stuck with a doctor. “Need some help over there?”
Harry grunts then sighs, sitting on a large rock as she stands erect at last, wavering like a new calf. “You could say that,” he deadpans. “I’m pretty sure I’m too old for this.”
Lyssa pshaws, creeping beneath the alien palm tree. “You’re not even as old as my dad. Stop complaining, Doc.” That comment gets her another undignified grunt, and Lyssa can’t help but laugh. She knew Harry would hate that.
“That man’s superhuman. Probably could get a door off his own damn leg.” A shuttle door indeed rests on Harry’s left leg, trapping him between that and a rock. She walks over, crouches down to inspect the scene, and sits back on her heels as Harry stares down at her. “It's not broken,” he gruffs.
“Let me try,” she says. “SAM?” The AI doesn’t respond. It seems her implant is useless in the bottom of this deep cave. It's up to her to figure out the best place to lift.
Lyssa walks around the battered door and Harry, sizing up the best place to leverage her strength. Had her scanner been working, SAM would have said where to exert the right amount of force. Head still garbled, Lyssa fumbles around until she finds it on her own. The suit takes a portion of the weight, but her insides still hurt like hell when she lifts. Harry scrambles back though and she drops the door quick, folding over after with hands on her knees.
“Don’t... think... I... have... that... in me... again,” she pants.
Sit down, kid,” he says. Harry pulls her gently by her elbow and Lyssa plops next to his side.
She turns to face him. “Don't call me that.”
“What? Kid? You're half my age--”
“I don't call you old man.”
Harry lets out a deep breath and pulls her in a single-armed embrace. “I feel it though.” He squeezes tighter. “Kirkland didn't make the crash. Neither did Greer.”
Some of her memory returns now; getting on the shuttle with Harry last minute instead of with Cora, the electric charges in the atmosphere, striking the cliff face sure they were going to die. Apparently two did. Three including the pilot.
Harry interrupts her thoughts. “How are you doing physically? Any specific pain?”
Her body still aches, but falling will do that to a person. The suit only absorbs so much. “I think I have a concussion?”
“And here I was complaining about a trapped ankle.” Harry drops his arm and swivels to look at her through her helmet. “What's your full name?”
“Lyssa Jane Ryder,” she says.
“Occupation?”
“Armed Combatant Specialist.”
“Address?”
Lyssa narrows her eyes at Harry, shaking her head slowly. “Really?”
“Sorry, he says. “Old habits die hard. I'd do a few tests, but I've already seen your reflexes, your coordination. It's probably a mild concussion at most. You got lucky, Lyssa.”
“Huh, then why don't I feel it?”
They sit silently after that, looking around the cave and its abundance of flora. Green shoots out of every square inch, swaths of moss covering the rocks, the floor. The twisted, reflective metal of the shuttle is out of place, jarring. So are the bodies of Greer and Kirkland, broken over a jagged shelf maybe ten feet up. Lyssa shudders. How had she missed that fate?
“Your comms work?” She asks.
“Not a bit,” he shrugs. “Yours?”
Lyssa shakes her head. “Maybe we should get out of here. Doubt anyone's going to find us hidden away like this.”
Harry nods, gesturing towards his ankle. “You're going to have to help me. Damn thing’s twisted. Can't really do much for it either.”
She helps him up. Harry leans into her and their helmets clack. “Sorry,” they both say at the same time. Lyssa takes his weight as best she can and they hobble over uneven ground. Once the strobe of the shuttle fades away, they turn their helmet lights on. The cave straightens out helpfully, yet the tunnel to the surface seems to be monstrously long.  
“What did your dad talk us into?”
Lyssa can't justify an excuse. She’d been asking the same question for months before the trip and now that they're here... It's too depressing. Levi’s not awake, members of her team have died, Habitat 7 is a complete bust. Instead of feeling sad, anger courses through her.
“Fuck!” she snaps. Her veins even feel hot. “Let's talk about something else. You got a wife, Harry?”
It was the first thing that came to mind. Once it's out, she feels a bit guilty.
He laughs though, teetering next to her as they climb over a log. “Never have.”
She smiles. For some reason that answer makes her feel a little better. “Consummate bachelor? Scam too many ladies in one galaxy gotta break hearts in another?”
“Hardly,” he says. “I’m in the business of fixing hearts, not breaking them.”
“Come on,” Lyssa teases. “With a voice like yours and that salt and pepper look? I guarantee someone's cried over you before. Plus, doctor.”
“Is that... hot? I thought that was reserved for people in uniform?”
She snickers. The way he says it, “hot,” as if it's some trendy term and not what people have been calling men like him for centuries. Harry is hot. Smoking hot in a way that's always distracted her. He'd been the one to put her under in cryo, and after his face was the last thing she'd seen, Lyssa would swear she'd been having sex dreams about him for the last 600 years. She’d followed him into the shuttle on the Hyperion after all. Not onto Cora's like she was supposed to. Harry had that pull on her and he really had no idea.
“Harry, your patients aren't coming to see you just for your medicine.”
“Whatever you say.” His words are dismissive, but he sounds slightly pleased.
They fall into comfortable silence for a long time, taking it as steady as possible. She's never been this close to him before, and although the situation sucks, Lyssa likes the feel of him there, arm over her shoulder, hers across his back. If only there weren't suits between them. She imagines he smells good. Something smoky with a little spice. He stumbles on a root and squeezes her hand tight. A flutter of stupid, stupid nerves run up her arm at it. Lyssa needs to get out of this cave before she acts any more like a lovesick kid.
Light floods their footfalls. Cracks of thunder echo through the widening cave. Together they shuffle forward faster; green is replaced by grey but they fail to notice. At the mouth at last, Harry stumbles, almost crashing to the ground. Lyssa strains to hold him up. Outside the electric storm rages, a burst of lightning strikes down nearby. It's a horror scene. Harry's wheezing, coughing. Confused, Lyssa wheels around in front of him, taking his head between her palms. A crack in the visor is finally visible in the light of day.
“We gotta go back,” she says, pulling him up again. Harry can't breathe enough to argue, but his body doesn't fight her. Scrambling, she half carries him to the point where the plants flourish again. His grip on her is vice-like and she grinds her teeth together, insistent on getting him back to breathable air.
At a certain point he refuses to move further, stiff arming the rock wall. “Lyssa, I'm fine,” he says. “I’m fine.”
She drops to the ground then, collapsing in a pile of relief.
“You have to leave me.”
She glances up too quick, horrified at the suggestion. Her head swims a little. “I'm not--”
“Look, you said it yourself. No one is going to find us hiding in this cave. I trust you'll not leave me here to die.” Harry slumps down next to her on the floor. “You'll be okay. Find Cora -- your dad. They'll know what to do about this.” He flops his useless helmet on the ground. They both stare at it.
She's sure they're both thinking the same thing, but Lyssa can't make the words come. But what if everyone else is dead?
Harry takes up one of her hands and squeezes it reassuringly. If she can't find anyone -- if no one's left... At least at the end she’ll be with someone she cares about. She’ll crawl back to Harry, tell him how she feels, has felt about him since they met more than 600 years ago, and then hopefully they'll screw themselves into oblivion while the whole planet destroys itself.
Before she can think better of it, Lyssa removes her helmet. Harry starts to speak and she covers his mouth with a hand. Replacing her gloved fingers with her lips, Harry whips his head back, shocked. They're laying basically intertwined, his right leg and both of hers in a tangle.
“Lyssa--”
“Just let me,” she insists. He blinks slowly and she surges forward again, kissing him deeply. He doesn't pull back this time, but angles into it, placing his hands on either side of her head. Heat coils up inside her, races up to flush her face. They find themselves getting more and more tangled with one another, Lyssa practically sitting in his lap.
He pulls away first, stroking her cheek gently. “What was that,” he murmurs in amazement.
Lyssa grips his shoulders then realizes she should climb off his lap. “Ahh...” She laughs nervously. What had she been thinking? They aren’t dying yet. “Maybe we shouldn't tell anyone about that.” Harry lets her go regretfully, hands following her path away from his body, grasping air.
“Especially not your dad,” he says. Lyssa flinches, cringing at her dad finding out what she’d just done.
“Don't worry,” another voice calls out. “I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell him either.”
So hot a moment before, a cold flush floods Lyssa’s entire body. Hair prickles the back of her neck. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah,” Cora says, hand resting on her hips in judgement. “But at least I came to get you alone.”
Weeeeeell, thanks Cora. :D
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trajektoria · 6 years
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LEATHER & LACE ROMANCE WEEK - Mreyder prompt 2
Yay, prompt number two for the Leather & Lace event hosted by @vorchagirl and @blueteaparty! This one is fluff and comedy, straying into ridiculous territory. Hope you’ll enjoy. Reblogs and comments are love <3
---
2.       Fake Relationship/Engagement/Marriage
 This whole thing had been crazy from the start. As Scott recounted the events to him via vid call, Reyes thought that it sounded like the summary of some cheesy crime show you wouldn’t normally watch unless you were stuck in bed with your limbs smashed to pieces and no alternate entertainment. Scott, however, was just the right shade of embarrassed and outraged to add credibility to his words.
“Okay, so just let me get this straight, Scott.” Reyes reclined on the couch in his private room in the Tartarus, his gaze fixed on his omni-tool displaying the Pathfinder’s quarters where Scott sat at his desk. The Pathfinder rubbed his face, as if he wasn’t getting enough sleep. Again. Always working his fingers to the bone. Reyes fought the urge to tsk at him. “A counselor for married couples on the Nexus, who kills them when he decides they are beyond help?”
“I know how it sounds.” Scott had the decency to roll his eyes. “But it’s true. Or at least that’s what SAM and I have concluded. We don’t have solid proof though. Proper investigation is needed, we need to stop this guy before he offs anyone else.”
“Mhm.” Reyes nodded sympathetically. “Good luck then, Ryder.”
“Reyes…” Scott was somehow able to turn his name into a plea. “I need your help with this.”
“Alright. I can try to dig up some dirt on him.”
“No! That’s not what I meant.”
Reyes tilted his head. “I don’t really understand what you expect of me.”
“Well…” Scott shifted in his seat and scratched his nose. “I was hoping that you could come with me to a session.”
Not a single muscle on Reyes’ face twitched as he absorbed this request. Years of playing and winning at poker hadn’t been for naught.
“You want me to come with you. To the Nexus. Me.” He paused, letting the words sink in in all their absurdity. “And pretend to be your horrible husband.”
An awkward beat of silence.
“Yeah.” Scott cleared his throat. “Pretty much.”
Reyes shook his head. Unbelievable.
“You know that you can take literally anyone as your fake husband, right? Liam, for example?” he proposed. This suggestion was met with a scoff so offended that Reyes felt a sliver of possessive pride.
“No, I won’t pretend to be married to Liam,” Scott said adamantly. “And let me stop you here before you start listing every guy that has ever so much as breathed in my direction. I need you, specifically.”
“Aww, Ryder.” Reyes grinned. “You know how to make a boy feel special.”
Scott looked briefly ceilingward.
“You’re street smart. And smart in general. And you can tell when people are lying…”
“So can SAM.”
“Reyes… please...”
Uh-oh. Scott had rolled out the big guns, the most effective weapon against the Charlatan known to mankind. A pair of imploring baby blue eyes staring at him with such intensity that all his defenses melted into a puddle. Resistance was futile. Reyes might have as well wave the white flag right then and be done with it, since saying ‘no’ to Scott was near impossible even in far more favorable circumstances. Still, he had a reputation to maintain. The charade could go on a little longer, even if only so that Scott didn’t fully realize what kind of power he had over him.
“People on the Nexus won’t exactly welcome me with open arms, Scott.”
“Reyes, it’s been more than three years now since the Uprising.” He paused, raising an eyebrow to show that he had seen right through this stalling tactic. No one in their right mind could possibly forget one of many impossible things Scott had achieved, probably the most impressive of them all – convincing Director Tann to grant amnesty to all the Exiles. Yes, there was a certain degree of bureaucracy involved – proper permits and a visa for example – but at least they weren’t collectively persona non grata on the Nexus anymore. It wasn’t easy to impress Reyes, yet when Scott had told him that news, he’d ended up pressing him against the wall and whispering into the kiss how amazing he was. Hard to forget something like that.
“And you’d be there with me,” Scott continued, bringing Reyes back to the present. “No one would seriously dare to question the human Pathfinder, the savior of the whole galaxy, right?” A crooked smile curved Scott’s perfect lips. “And finally, SAM can falsify your credentials in, like, five seconds. So really, you have no excuse.”
“Identity fraud? Scott, that’s illegal! I’m appalled. Has the Pathfinder strayed onto the path of evil?”
“Whatever it takes to get that bastard.”
Scott was serious. For a moment they just stared at one another, a battle of wills.
But the outcome was rigged from the start. Reyes sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You won’t let this go, will you, Ryder?”
“Nope,” Scott replied with brutal honesty and a winsome smile.
“Out of all the people in Andromeda, I had to tie myself to the most pig-headed one.”
“Get used to it, darling.” Scott cracked a smile. “You’ll be my husband soon.”
“Your terrible husband,” he amended. “At least let me pick the rings.”
 * * *
“I didn’t know that you had a husband, Mr. Ryder!” said the counselor, his demeanor warm and welcoming. Not at all murderous, not yet anyway. “There was nothing in the news regarding the ceremony.”
Scott shifted on the couch. He didn’t need to pretend that he was feeling uncomfortable.
“Call me Scott. And I like to keep my private life private,” he said, casting a glance at Reyes, who was handling the situation with his usual coolness, sitting casually right next to him. Without armor, just in a civilian’s shirt and trousers, and with his hair tousled with apparent carelessness, he looked like a supermodel. Scott had to be careful not to drool.  
Only when the counselor addressed him directly again did he manage to peel his eyes off his temporary husband.
“Of course, I understand. But you don’t have to fear the gossips here. Everything that happens in this room is strictly confidential.” Both Scott and Reyes nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay, in that case we can start. So… Scott, you told me that recently you and your husband have drifted apart, become distant. Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. So before we can get to the center of the problem, please tell me something about your partner.”
“Um… Like what?” Scott asked somewhat helplessly.
“You tell me. Whatever you think is important enough to share.”
“Okay.” Scott glanced at Reyes, who waved to encourage him. They had rehearsed this part many times so everything should go smoothly. “Well… So this is my husband, Alejandro Morales. He’s an engineer stationed on Eos, basically making sure that the Prodromos can operate without any hiccups. We met two years ago through a mutual acquaintance. Business partnership very quickly developed into something more.” That part was true at least. “With everything that my job entails… you know, jumping all over the cluster on various errands, I can’t visit Eos as often as I’d like and he can’t take a leave too often either. It’s been quite a while since we’ve seen one another.”
“Mhm… So you think that the main problem in your relationship is the physical distance and the inability to be there for one another?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Scott shrugged. And instantly got an idea. “That, and the fact that he’s a compulsive liar.” Scott turned to Reyes with an outraged glare. With an angry movement of his hand to fix his hair, he masked a subtle wink, one that the good doctor had no chance of seeing. The Charlatan, on the other hand, saw it all and immediately went along with it. Even a master planner didn’t mind some improvisation from time to time.
“Stop being paranoid. I’m not lying to you, honey,” Reyes assured him, a picture of wronged innocence.
“Ha!” Scott shook his head at the doctor in a ‘can you believe this shit’ way. “See? He’s lying this very moment!”
“Okay, okay.” Reyes put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sometimes… I’m not entirely truthful. But I never lie to you about important stuff.”
“Yeah?” Scott asked, raising his voice. “And what is really important to you, you lying son of a–”
“Gentlemen, please,” the doctor intervened. Scott huffed, fixing his hair again with another furtive wink at Reyes, then settled down. “Mr. Morales – Alejandro – please, it’s your turn now. Tell me something about your husband.”
“What is there to tell?” Reyes rolled his eyes. “He’s the fucking human Pathfinder, savior of the world. Flowers bloom wherever he dares to step, men and women throw their underwear at him, and a beam of sugar, spice and everything nice of justice shines from his asshole.”
Scott jaw went slack.
“Oh you fucking bastard!”
The counselor sighed, exasperation reflected in his eyes.
The session lasted two hours in total and Scott and Reyes were at each other’s throats 90% of time, doing their very best to be the most awful versions of themselves. Everything went perfectly and Scott could tell that the trap had been set – hook, line and sinker. After the session, Scott and Reyes retired to the apartment they’d rented, and waited.
Half an hour later they had to deal with a couple of mercenaries, one crazed counselor and profound apologies to the owner of the flat about the many holes that had appeared on the walls and a particularly nasty blood splatter on the ceiling. But the villain had been apprehended in the end and the story got its happy ending.
“You know, Scott,” said Reyes much later, as they rested together on the couch in the Pathfinder’s quarters, the Tempest bound for Kadara. “I’ve got to hand it to you. I really had fun today.”
“Yeah, me too,” he replied, taking a sip of the cocoa he had made for them both. “But I lowkey hate you now. When you told him about ‘the ray shining out of my ass’ you sounded very convincing,” he added, not quite serious.
Reyes chuckled.
“I have firsthand knowledge that thankfully your asshole is free of any strange illuminations.” He nuzzled against Scott’s neck, humming in pleasure.
Scott smiled, staring at his hands. The mug warmed them nicely, but what really had his undivided attention was the ring on his finger. An intricate gold band, a match to the one Reyes wore. Without significance. Just a trinket, a convenient prop to add another layer of credibility to the story they spun.
“I guess I should give it back to you now,” he said, indicating the ring with his chin. “Looks expensive.”
“Keep it.” Reyes’ chocolate breath fanned against his cheek, lips brushing gently against his stubble. “It looks good on you.”
Scott’s heart did a somersault.
“Really? Or is it just another lie?” he asked, smirking. He was half-serious, and as he looked at Reyes he realized that the man was too. Enough seriousness to make it mean something, but with an added playfulness to turn it all into a joke in case things fell apart.
“I mean it, Scott.”
Scott swallowed, going in for the harder, more meaningful route.
“But you haven’t even proposed to me.”
“Why should I?” Reyes asked, his golden eyes crinkling with mirth. “We both know what the answer would be.”
Scott had no words. His blush was probably worth more than a thousand, he supposed.
“Bastard…” he muttered into the mug. Reyes’ laugh and the gentle kiss the man placed on his temple made up for the embarrassment in abundance.  
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missredherring · 6 years
Text
Stealing Moments
Day 2: Fake Relationship/Engagements/Marriage
Merlin x Reader
The room erupted into laughter and the man next to you shifted, pressing his body more firmly against you and draping his long arm over your shoulders. His rough hand rubbed the bare skin of your shoulder. You returned his movements with your own, resting your head back on his arm and casually resting your hand on his thigh.
The muscle flexed under your touch and you could feel him breathing and the vibrations of his voice as he answered a question or made a comment. You were quiet for a while, just taking everything in, watching everyone.
“You alright, love?” Merlin asked quietly. His tone was light but his eyes were serious.
You smiled at him reassuringly and he must’ve been satisfied with whatever he saw on your face. He kissed your temple in movie so practiced it looked like he did it out of habit. 
This was a mission, you reminded yourself, but you could enjoy moments like this, right?
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