#i loved it so much but it made me scared of mirrors for a few months | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wintfleur · 1 month

Note

hi roro, congrats on your 1k!! you deserve it so much! 💞 if you're still taking requests for ur celebration, can you do prompt 9 🪷 with lando? thank you 🫶

౨ৎ hair dryers and promised mimosas

﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )

°. — summary ( your clingy boyfriend doesn’t want to leave your side so early in the morning )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; none. I did not proof read soz. wc; 1.8k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ sitting between their legs as they dry your hair

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Ahh tysm lovely! Ur so sweet mwah x i had so much fun writing this ! Tysm for sending in a req !!! I hope you all enjoy it !!! Please don’t be a silent reader )

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There weren't a lot of things that Lando would wake up early for on his days off, it was no secret Lando loved his sleep, and he loved sleeping in your shared bed, especially since he missed it so much while he was off racing. But he loved you more, so when he rolled over in bed, wanting to snuggle into your arms he grumpily sat up in confusion when he saw you weren't sleeping next to him.

The worry that was building up in him disappears when he takes notice of the faint sound of music coming from the bathroom. An annoyed groan leaves his lips as he recollects you telling him yesterday that you were going out for breakfast with a few of your girlfriends, he wanted to spend more time with you in bed. Lando flings the warm blanket off his body and slowly trudges out of the bed and towards the bathroom, his mind coming up with excuses he could use to get you to stay home.

You were so caught up in doing your skincare and quietly singing along to the music playing from your phone, to notice the cracked bathroom door opening wide. Lando stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching as you rubbed some sunscreen on your face, you looked so peaceful. Already dressed in your outfit of choice, a white fluffy towel on your head as it helped dry your hair quicker.

A gasp of surprise leaves your lips when you notice your sleepy boyfriend standing in the doorway, from the corner of your eye through the mirror. You quickly turn to face him, placing your hand over your heart at the fright, a surprised laugh leaving your lips “Lan! Don't do that, you scared me.”

“Consider it revenge for scaring me this morning” your boyfriend sassily replied as he moved towards you. You raise your eyebrows at his sassy mood and turn back around, facing the mirror so you can continue getting ready. You pause the music on your phone, already knowing that you were about to get an earful of your boyfriend's dramatics. “I have no idea what you're talking about darling.”

“I woke up alone, on my day off! Imagine how I felt waking up cold and alone. You claim to have missed me while I was away, but this just proves you didn't. I thought you loved me” he whined dramatically and tiredly as he rested his forehead on your shoulder blade, his eyes fluttering close and his body begging to go back to sleep. You giggled as you looked through one of your makeup bags “Lando you know i love you, and you also know i had to wake up early this morning.”

“If you truly loved me you would get in bed and cuddle me back to sleep” Lando pouted as he lifted his head up from your shoulder blade and rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Lando winced dramatically as he watched you curl your eyelashes.

The two of you made eye contact through the mirror and for a second you wanted to get back in bed with him when you saw how sleepy he looked, but then you remembered the free mimosas you were promised, and you absolutely loved cuddling in bed with lando . . . but you desperately needed some drinks and breakfast with your girlfriends after a long week of stressful work. You moved one of your hands to your waist, setting it on top of his hands and squeezing them softly as you spoke “We can cuddle as soon as i get back, i won't be gone long, promise.”

Lando let out a sigh, he really wanted you to stay with him, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless, he knew how much you were looking forward to it. Lando places a soft kiss on your shoulder before standing straight and moving his hands to hold your hips instead “When do you have to leave?”

“In like 10 minutes, I just have to dry my hair and style it and I'm ready to go” you tell him as you lean forward so you would be closer to the mirror, getting a better look at your eyelashes as you put on your mascara. Lando's eyes followed your movement, his eyes dropping to your back, lingering on your arch before quickly looking back up at you before his mind could get carried away. His body was already aching and missing the way you felt pressed up against him, he quickly stutters out a response, wanting to stay close to you until you had to leave “Can i do it ⸺ dry your hair i mean.”

You pull away the mascara wand from your eye and lock eyes with his sweet and twinkling eyes. Lando always became extra clingy in the morning, not that you complained. You softly smile “Sure darling, plug in the hair dryer while I finish my mascara, would you?”

Lando grins happily and places a quick kiss to your shoulder before crouching down and opening the cabinet under the sink to look for the dryer. The bright morning light shone through the windows of the bathroom; you had put the curtains back so you could get the natural light. You glanced down at your giddy boyfriend; he looked so pretty in the morning. You looked away and focused on your mascara, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't be leaving the house in ten minutes.

You pulled the white towel off your head, careful not to tug on your hair, you tossed the towel into the laundry basket and looked towards the bathroom door when you heard an unfamiliar sound.

“Here sit on this” Lando requested sweetly as he pulled in a short and circular stool ottoman into the bathroom for you to sit on. It was made of a soft fabric and decorated your shared room perfectly, it was also a designated place for Lando to set his hats on, too lazy to put them away in the closet. You had just finished putting all of your things away on the counter when he pulled it into the bathroom.

You smiled and sat down on the stool he had moved close to the counter, the hair dryer cord not too long. Your sweet boyfriend stood behind you, a hair dryer and your brush in his hands, you looked at him through the mirror and watched as a look of confusion came over his face as he looked down at the buttons on the dryer, trying to figure out which one turns it on. You turn to face him, ready to help him but you stop when it turns on, your boyfriend flinching at the surprising sound.

You look up at him through the window and he lets out an embarrassed chuckle, a big smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at Lando's silliness and sit up straight when he starts drying your hair. Your eyes flutter close at the soothing feeling of the warmth coming from the dryer and the softness and rhythmic feeling of him brushing through your hair.

You open your eyes when you feel his lips softly kiss your forehead, your eyes catching him leaning up and continuing to dry your hair, a lovesick smile on his lips. You look at him through the mirror, a smile on your lips at the adorable look of concentration that comes across his face as he focuses on your hair, trying to do the same thing he's seen you do countless times before.

There was something so comforting in the way he always wanted to be around you, he never got tired of your presence like your past partners did. He didn't care what the two of you were doing, as long as you guys were together. After another minute or so, your hair was now dry and had a good amount of volume. Who knew Lando was so good at doing your hair? You didn't know . . . last time he tried to braid your hair it got so tangled, and he felt so bad.

“Did I do a good job?” Lando whispered as he watched you stand up and lean closer to the mirror to get a better look at your hair, he set the dryer on the counter and bit his lip as he continued to watch you mess with your hair. You smiled and turned around to face him, putting your hands on Lando's waist and pulling him closer to you. “Darling it's perfect.”

“Mmm just like you” you whispered before you leaned up on your tippy toes, your eyes closing as you took his lips into a kiss. Lando's eyes quickly close as he kisses you back, his hands cupping your cheeks softly as your lips move perfectly together. You reluctantly pull away when your alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know it's time to go.

Lando's hands on your cheeks drop to your waist as you reach back to grab your phone, you turn off your alarm and quickly type out a response to your friend who just pulled up and is waiting for you. You look up from your phone and up at Lando who was already looking at you, a small frown on his lips, he really didn't want you to go.

“I’ll be back soon darling, we can stay in bed for the rest of the day” you promised sweetly, leaning up to place a quick kiss to his cheek before you turn around to quickly spray some of your favorite perfume on before walking into the bedroom to put on your shoes and grab your bag. Lando watches you rush around the bedroom, the scent of your perfume making him feel dizzy but in a good way. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better!” You playfully shout as you make your way out of the bedroom, you have your bags and your shoes on, all ready to go. Just as you step out of the bedroom you pause; you are missing one more thing. You turn around and Lando lets out a small chuckle as you rush over to him, cupping his face as you give a quick but passionate kiss, a kiss that he would be thinking about the whole time you were gone. You pull away and whisper breathlessly against his wet lips “I love you.”

“I love you too, have fun” Lando whispered back, giving you a cheeky wink when you turned around to give him a look of feign shock when he smacked your ass as you walked away. You chuckle and roll your eyes, leaving the shared apartment, with a new pep in your step. Now even more excited to come back home to your sweet boyfriend.

Lando smiles as he hears your laughter fade and he soon hears the door open, close and lock. He was now home alone. Lando let out a tired sigh and moved to lay in the messy bed, laying on your side of the bed and breathing in your scent as he laid his head on your pillow. He let out a tired sigh and let himself relax in the warm bed, drifting off into a sleep filled with dreams of you.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ending is kinda rushed :( I haven’t had much time to write so I was quick to finish it !!! Still hope you guys loved it though !!! The rest of my fics for my 1k celly should be out soon )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 @c-losur3 @ophcelia @lovings4turn )

2K notes · View notes

obxsprincess · 4 months

Text

just imagining aphrodites daughter working in the camp medic, because somehow you never get sick

you feel so useless though :( n you hated it. almost all the older boys fake a sickness just to see you, telling you how pretty you are, n’ trying every trick in the book to make you swoon. you had no problem giving them a sweet smile before shutting the door in their faces

you had no problem doing it… until luke fucking castellan started coming.

“you know it’s late right?” his voice makes you jump, dropping the bandages only moments ago you were trying to organize

you squeak as you feel two hands wrap around your waist, turning you too him he laughs. wide eyes finding his, body pressed against yours you had no idea he was right behind you !

”god, luke! you scared me!”

“n’ now I have to pick up all these band-”

n he doesn’t answer, instead pulling you closer, goosebumps kissing every part of your body that touches his

your breath hitches in your throat, hands finding his chest for balance as a smile tugs on his lips

still silent, his hand curls around the counter top behind you, pinning you against it and him as he slowly kneels down. picking up the few bandages that fell and placing them back up. his brown eyes never lefts yours, like the teasing bastard he was

you swear you can’t really breathe, and you know he knows that as he finally stands back up, that god for saken smile plastured on his lips !

“sorry about that-“ his breath fans your neck “but I missed you” your head spinned, n you’d have thought he was actually sick from the feverish touch of his lips against your skin, your collarbone, your jaw

warm, dizzy, and desperate. that’s how luke kissed, and how he made you feel… fuck !

head tipping back n your hands tugged at his shirt

he pulls away for a moment, hands gliding down your waist, down your hips “do you want me to stop?”

you both were panting “n-no. please luke, just kiss me”

that same god damn smile “I have a fever though, love”

he’s such a taunting asshole ! you rolled your eyes, smashing his lips against yours before luke could notice that curl the that tugged at yours

he groaned, lifting you on top of the counter, your pretty legs wrapping around his middle

his hands explored your body, so soft under his hands. lukes abs pressed against your beginning to throb sex. it was so much, n not enough all in one

”I-I hate you, castellan” you somehow manage, squeaking as his tongue glides against your lips. mirroring his hands sliding lower n lower

“mhm do ya? the feelings mutuel, baby”

if the passionate, feverish, addiction-laced way he ate you out could be considered hate, than he definitely did

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan smut #pjo smut #luke castellan fluff #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke castellen

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luveline · 1 year

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losers | remus lupin

“Please.”

“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?”

you find remus’ number on an abandoned motorbike. things snowball from there. [10k words]

fem!reader, fluff, first date, smut mdni, implied inexperienced!reader, almost rockstar!remus, mentioned that remus takes painkillers, muggle!au, early 2000’s au

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ There’s a motorbike outside of the cafe.

It’s huge. Too heavy for you to move. Technically, you hadn’t found it at all, it was left there in the dead of night a few days ago and hasn’t budged since. It’s illegally parked, a fact that your manager won't stop muttering about while she’s elbow deep in latte foam and coffee cakes.

“I’m getting the bastard thing towed,” she grumbles that morning. “Let the police deal with it.”

That seems rather harsh to you. It isn’t necessarily in the way, and it looks well loved. Perhaps whoever left it can’t remember where they left it, having stumbled home on inebriated footing after one too many at the pub across the street. You think about how much it must cost to get your stuff back after it’s been towed, and though you aren’t sure of the specifics, you know it can’t be cheap. So, when your manager falls into conversation with a regular and your break begins, you creep outside to do some investigating.

It’s a hulking thing made of more black than silver. There are stickers across the left side of the body, weathered and peeling, though one is newer than the others and immediately draws your eye.

A phone number.

If lost, please call.

You take your phone out of your pocket, a flip phone with one dangling charm in the shape of a star. You click each faded button slowly. You're scared to talk to someone you don’t know, but relieved to maybe save the day.

It goes for ages.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say, dropping your voice into its sweetest tones, though nerves make you too soft, and you worry you’re hard to hear. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I work at The Mill, it’s a– a cafe in the city centre… Are you missing a bike, by any chance? A motorbike?”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it’s my friend’s. He can be… forgetful.” The voice that speaks is both smooth and gritty, impossibly, like whoever it is that’s talking smoked half a pack of cigarettes before he answered the phone. He clears his throat. “I hope it hasn’t been an imposition for you.”

“Actually, uh, my manager wants to have it towed. Like, now. I can try to fend her off but honestly she’s like, that physics law, um, unstoppable force? Uh,” —you’re stuttering, making it worse, because his voice is surprisingly handsome and you’re an idiot through and through— “yeah, so could you come and get it?”

“Yes! Yeah, absolutely, we’re on our way. Thank you.”

“Sure. Of course.”

You hear something not meant for you, the tail end of, “Sirius, get up. You better call Marl and—”

Phone back in your pocket, you take a quick glance around the street before reaching out to run your finger over the cracked leather of the motorbike seat. You’ve never ridden one before. You’ve never wanted to. The level of fearlessness one needs for it isn’t one you possess.

You’re the opposite of fearless.

The sun hides behind a wave of clouds. Your skin chills near immediately, your prim slacks and apron a worthless defence against the cold. It’s an average day here, grey and quiet. Occasionally a couple will pass you, hand in hand as they traverse the worn pavement. You smile at an elderly man and his dog as they shuffle across the street and into the cafe. Your smile fades as you tune into the fierce tones of your manager, demanding to know where you’ve gone. If your absence is what distracts her from calling the police, so be it.

You’re considering getting your phone back out to play Snake when a passing car slows beside you. You straighten up and out, feeling your spine click in more places than it should as the passenger door opens and an insanely attractive man throws himself out of it.

“My angel!” he cries, heading straight for you.

You take a panicked step backward. The man dives for his motorbike. You flinch, mystified by his enthusiasm and his opposite appearance. Short sleeves reveal arms full of dark tattoos, with one side marred by a brutally long scar from his elbow to the back of a ring-laden hand. You tear your eyes from him as a second door closes across the street, and feel all the air rush from your chest as a second man approaches.

He’s very pretty. It might be redundant to say it to yourself, presented as you are with an undeniable truth, but you think it anyway. Sandy brown hair, pale skin, and in enough layers to make up for his friends lack thereof, the second man ignores any dramatics and meets you head on.

“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand, “you’re the one who called?”

Closer now, you can see the scars on his face. They stretch over the ridge of his nose and into his eyebrow. A smaller one tugs as he talks against his top lip.

You take his hand and shake it limply. “Yeah, that was me.”

If he’s concerned with your nervousness he doesn’t show it. His smile doesn’t move. “He wants to say thank you. He will, once he gets over himself.”

“Thank you!” the dark-haired man calls. “She’s my everything. I’ve been sick with worry.”

“Have you?” the man in front of you asks, his voice steady, almost intimidating in its impassiveness.

“Yes, Moons, I have been… not that you’d know.”

“Some of us have real problems,” Moons snips, though he quickly looks at you like he’s embarrassed. “Sorry. He brings out the worst in me.”

“You must be good friends.”

You don’t know why you say it. He only smiles.

“We must be.”

The first man stands up from checking over his motorbike and beams at you. You suspect it’s an expression that works in his favour more often than not. “What can I give you, doll?”

“No, nothing. Please. I’ll just be glad to hear the end of it.”

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, really."

Your manager calls your name, clear as day despite the thick pane of glass and brick walls separating you.

"That's you?" Moons asks.

"That's me. Sorry."

"No, don't be. Thanks so much for calling."

You nod hurriedly, throwing them both a 'nice to meet you, I'm sorry for leaving so fast' kind of smile and head back inside.

You take a sneaky look back when you're behind the counter again. They’ve turned their backs to you, Moons' friend ruffling his hair roughly. After a minute or two, Moons gets back in his car, and the motorbike pulls away like it was never there to begin with.

What sort of name is Moons? you ask yourself. It's a question that stays with you for a few days. You find yourself hoping you'll see him again, or that his friend's motorbike will turn up outside of the cafe for a few long days and give you an excuse to call him. His number stays unsaved in your recent calls menu for a while. Eventually, you forget about him altogether; the motorbike, the call, the gentle wave of his hair.

You're hard-pressed to forget his voice, though. There'd been something familiar about it.

"Nice highscore."

You jump hard and wince as the metallic taste of blood hits your taste buds. To make it worse, you slam your phone up into the counter it was hiding under in shock. It makes a fatal crunching sound.

You shove it into your pocket and look up. Standing there, in all his handsome weariness, is Moons, sans friend. He's wearing nice clothes, clean and clearly ironed. You're immediately aware of your ratty uniform and your unkempt hair.

"Shit," you say, which is so fucking embarrassing, honestly, you could fall through the floor and stay there, "Sorry. What can I get you?"

His eyebrows inch up his forehead. "What's the easiest thing to make?"

That's not a question you get often. "Uh, regular black coffee, or tea, or, the uh– the hot chocolate's not that hard. But you should order whatever you like, of course."

Moons smiles at you. You're starting to understand the nickname (assuming it is a nickname). He has this odd but enticing presence about him, like that awestruck feeling of looking up at night and seeing all the teeny tiny stars and the moonlight that comes down with them, bright and somewhat daunting.

"Sure you don't mind?"

"I'm paid not to mind."

"Can I get the biggest cup of tea you can make? Milk and two sugars, please."

"Absolutely." You sidestep to the register and click a bunch of the wrong buttons. You're unprofessionally flustered. "Uh, three sixty five?"

He passes you a five pound note. Your tip cup is for the more generous type, and he has no trouble dropping his palmful of change into it. He barely looks. You're expecting him to take a seat but he stays standing, one arm pressed to the counter, the other held up. He scratches behind his ear absentmindedly, as though he has nowhere else to be.

"Are you in a hurry?" you ask, confused.

He stays quiet for enough time to shit you up. You're tipping milk over your hand and hoping he hasn't seen it when he says, "No rush. I'm here to see you."

You look over your shoulder at him. You can't help it. "To see me."

"Yeah."

You spin back to his tea. The counter is covered in spills and sugar, cup tops and wooden stirrers. You take them all in with wide eyes. Nobody ever comes to see you. Not your friends, not family (unless they want something). Especially not boys you met once for two minutes.

"Is there something wrong?" you ask.

You clip the lid onto his big tea and wrap it in napkins so it doesn't burn his hands.

"Nothing's wrong," he says kindly. "I wanted to apologise. Your boss was upset with you. It was Sirius' fault. We owe you for it."

"You really don't have to say sorry. She wasn’t that mad. No harm, no foul."

You put his cup of tea down in front of him and try to smile like girls do in the movies. Soft doe eyes, not too bright, not too awkward. You give up after a second and feel it twist into something regrettable.

His long silence makes you squirm.

"A thank you, then.”

He offers you an envelope. You take it.

The paper is crisp and thick. Your fingers are clumsy, and it takes you too many seconds to fold the envelope's lip and pull out the card stock inside.

You look up in shock. "I can't–"

He's not there. You look to the door, catching what might've been his hand as he walks out of view.

He's left you two concert tickets. You don't go to concerts. You might have, when you were younger, and had friends to follow. As it stands he's given you two seated tickets for a show in the Pointer Arena not far from where you work, for a band you've never heard of. The price on each is a solid £20, which is way too much repayment for ringing a number from a sticker. Worse, you're not sure you have somebody who can use the second one.

You hope he'll come back for clarification alone, and a little to see him, but he doesn't, and soon the date on the ticket matches the date on your calendar and you're standing outside of the venue with no clue how to hold yourself.

You stand in line for a while. It's a very long line made up of mostly younger women. You listen for the calling of a reseller and spot a group of young girls trying to haggle with them, reluctantly leaving your place in line.

"Hi," you say quietly to the one furthest from the epicentre. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I have an extra ticket tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like it? I know it's seated, but maybe you could use it to get in and then, uh, not sit? Or just sit." You could writhe around on the ground in shame. You hold out the spare ticket. "If you want it."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, seriously."

She takes the ticket and you walk away before she can try and give it back to you. Whether she uses it or not, it's no longer your problem to deal with. The lady who'd been standing behind you lets you back in line, for which you're extremely grateful, and you shiver your way to the front with nerves churning your stomach.

You've imagined being turned away twenty times by the time they usher you through the doors. The air is buzzing with excitement, enough of it to ramp up your nerves, and you smile weakly at the people who pass you on the way up to the seating area you've been designated. The Pointer Arena is a smaller venue with much more standing than seating capacity available. The seats are at the sides and back of the second floor, looking down at the pit with a safety barrier in front.

You slide into your seat and peer down at the crowd as it fills up one ant of a person at a time. You can't distinguish one person from another after a while. It’s a moving sea of dark clothes.

It takes a long time for the opening act to come on. You're not having much fun. You'd tried to use the computer in the cafe to research the bands playing tonight but the dial up hadn't been working and your manager hates when you take long breaks, so you aren't sure you'll even enjoy yourself. You're not sure why you came here — is it sad, to come here alone? It looks sad, you think, pathetic, but it doesn't feel sad. You're not very good at talking, anyways. It's so difficult. Or maybe you just make it that way.

This is why you regret coming. Any time spent by yourself is time to think. You hate thinking, but it's all you seem to be able to do. Think and think and think. Your mind runs in the same circles. Things you've done, things you wish you did, things you want to do so badly it makes you feel sick. You can't stand it.

The crowd begins to rise in volume. Cheers echo against the atrium ceiling, and you push yourself to the edge of your seat to see what's making them all so excited.

The opening band. They're too far away to see clearly. First on stage is a man with brown skin and a head of black curls, a guitar swinging from his neck, the body barely held as he waves to the masses. Next comes a paler man with hair tied up in a bun who sits down behind the drum kit and doesn't move much after that. A girl practically sprints to centre stage, scooping up a waiting guitar (or bass?) and strumming down the body appreciatively. She has purple hair, bright and choppy, particularly abrasive against the alabaster white of her skin.

And last on stage… last on stage is Moons.

You move forward suddenly, smacking your face against the plexiglass barrier and biting your cheek for the second time in a week. Used to your mistreatment, the poorly healed skin wastes no time splitting, and the metallic taste of blood makes you cringe.

That's Moons. There are two huge screens either side of the stage that magnify him. First his hand on the microphone, a scar coiling up from his wrist to his thumb purple against his skin. Then his face. You wouldn't forget what he looks like so soon, not when you've half obsessed over him for days with could-be's because he'd wanted to see you and you have a bad habit of inventing future's with people you don't know, but even if you did it wouldn't matter. You've never met anyone else with three scars as he has across his face, taking centre stage.

You hadn't realised the tickets were to see his band. It makes sense, now, why your seat is in such a quiet area, and why the people sitting close by aren't firecracker happy at the sight of them. They must've received their tickets in the same way, gifts or thank yous for small favours.

Your mouth dries as they begin to play. It's not what you're expecting. Of course, you haven't really had time to expect anything, and yet you're shocked when they start to play a slow song. He doesn't really look like a rockstar, but a heartthrob? You can see it easily. The long lengths of his lashes, and the dark honey of his eyes. His smile, so small but somehow piercing.

His voice is careful. He doesn't sing anything impressive —there's no belting or high notes— but you still find yourself wringing your hands together, entranced by his confidence. He dances around the melodies and fills up every space he can find between the beat of the drums and the searing guitar riffs that follow.

They only play five songs. By the time they've finished you're feeling sick to your stomach, and you can't get your heart to calm down. You hadn't known a word of the lyrics, but you'd felt them.

They're good.

Like, too good to be openers for long.

The crowd echoes your sentiment. They clap and scream and wolf whistle. The noise vibrates in the depth of your stomach. The cheering doubles when the headlining band’s techies emerge. The lights go down. Equipment begins to roll out.

You scrounge through your purse for a lip balm and think about heading downstairs to the concession stands for an overpriced bottle of water to wash away the unfortunate tang of blood. It aches to pay, but if you don't soon you might get nauseous, and that would be a real disaster, throwing up here of all places.

You hear his voice before you see him. He's laughing, talking to somebody about the set.

"It was great!" compliments a feminine voice. "I don't know what you were so worried about, Remus, you're really great. And if you weren't, Marl would've saved the day anyways with her gorgeous showmanship."

"Thanks, baby," says a second voice. Marl.

"Thanks, Mary," Moons says.

What had Mary called him? Remus? Odd, not quite as strange as Moons.

You try not to tense as footsteps approach.

"Can I sit?" he asks.

You look up too fast. He's a little damp, the hair closest to his face curled with it, but he smells good as he sits down. He must've washed up.

"I– I've been calling you Moons in my head," you admit, not sure what to say.

He's intimidating. You don't imagine he knows it. He sits in the chair without any fanfare, setting his forearm on the rest between your two seats and turning his face to you completely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, almost like he doesn't want to smile but can't help himself. His eyes are the slightest bit lidded, emphasising the brilliance (and unfairness) of his lashes, so thick and dark you wonder if he's wearing makeup.

"You can call me whatever you want to, but my name's Remus. I should've told you that before. I was… distracted."

He isn't being coy, you realise. He easily could be if he wanted to, but he was genuinely lost for words for a second.

"I didn't really tell you mine," you say, hoping to ease his gentle confusion.

He says your name like it's easy. Like he enjoys the sound of it. "Y/N. Do you like music?"

Is that a trick question? His eyes trace up to your eyebrows as they pinch together, but he doesn't amend his question. Not a trick, then.

"I like music,” you say.

"I realise it's brave to ask someone to come and see you on stage. And that I look like a tosser sometimes with the stage lights and makeup."

"No," you say quickly, "you don't. You looked just fine. You looked good. I bet it's hard getting on stage like that, and in front of this many people. And singing. You have a really nice voice."

His eyes soften. "Thank you. Do you wanna go get a drink with me? There's a bar. It's quiet."

Your elbow brushes against his long sleeve. "Yeah." You're not breathless enough to embarrass yourself, but it's a close call.

Remus leads you up and out of the seats. The venue is large in that it has just as many hallways and back rooms as it has places to watch the show. Remus’ warm hand catches your elbow, a friendly touch that guides you around the barrier and through a dimly lit hallway that takes you to the bar.

The bar overlooks the stage, but the sound of the band and the crowd is dampened severely, making for a sorely needed respite. VIP's mill around the room on plush leather sofas and cushy bar stools sipping from sweating glass bottles. Remus' hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as a familiar face waves you over.

"Hey, it's you!"

You smile at Remus' motorbike friend. You're a hundred percent sure his name is Sirius, but you won't say it aloud in case you're wrong. Beside him sits the other man you'd seen on stage with them, the guitarist with brown skin and a head full of thick hair. You look between the three of them in secret shock, wondering if handsome attracts handsome or if it's just dumb luck that they ended up together.

"James, this is the babe that found Stacia," Sirius says.

James wrinkles his nose. "Hi," he says, in a voice that sounds deeply apologetic, years of it like the rings of a tree. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Um, and you?"

"I'm good! Thanks, I'm good, it's nice of you to come see us. Did you like the show?"

"Yeah, I did. I had no idea you guys were musicians."

He splits his attention between you and his jacket. He pulls a glasses case out of his pocket, clicks it open, and straightens out a pair of wire frames.

"Couldn't tell from our baby boy's general demeanour?" he asks. "Hey, that's better, I can see you now."

"Sirius is the youngest," Remus says.

"And the handsomest."

"No, Marl's clearly the handsome one," James says lightly.

Sirius takes the rebuttal in good jest and brandishes his drink toward you like a toast. "Want a beer?"

"I'm getting her one," Remus says, "come on, give me a minute here."

Everybody laughs. You laugh too, turning your face into your shoulder to smother the sound.

"Well, come and sit with us, make yourself comfortable," James says, moving his jacket off of the chair in front of you.

Remus makes a small, apprehensive sound. "Drinks first." He looks to you for confirmation. "Yeah. We'll be back."

You follow him to the bar. Your shoes, a pair of dirty converse you wish you'd swapped for heels or something sophisticated, squeal against the hardwood floor. How were you supposed to know you'd see him again tonight? In what world does stuff like this happen to scruffy waitresses? You're starting to think he might be somebody.

Not that it matters if he is or isn't.

But if he is… This is embarrassing, right? Not knowing who he is.

There must be a couple thousand people here tonight. Then again, his band were the opening act, so it doesn't necessarily mean they're all famous or anything.

"Hey," Remus says softly, stopping your thoughts cold. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Sorry. I've never been in here before, anywhere that's like it,” you say.

"Venues are all different but the bars don't change," he says. "What do you like?"

"I'm not a big drinker."

"That's okay. I just wanted an excuse to be alone with you." He doesn't even give you time to recover. "Truth is, I wanted to ask you out. But between shows I couldn't find time, and next week I'm in San Marino."

What you mean to say is, you wanted to ask me out? But instead, you choke, "You're going to Italy?"

Remus pushes a seat out for you, helping you up with a solid hand, and, while your fingers are still warm from his touch, he says, "San Marino isn't Italy. I didn't know that 'til a few months ago. But pretty much."

"What's in San Marino?"

"A wedding." He climbs into the seat next to you, smiling.

The tan colour of his long-sleeves contrasts his pale hands. Your eyes flash to his ring finger. Not his wedding.

Remus isn’t easy to talk to. It's not wholly his fault. He doesn't force conversation, leaving you awkwardly searching for something to say. You're not the best conversationalist either. He clearly doesn't mind it.

You're in the midst of a clumsy retelling of a shitty customer service moment when he tips his head to the left just a touch.

"Maybe we can go on an actual date when I'm home,” he says.

He says it like he's talking about the weather. You'd be worried he was messing with you, but then he smiles again, flicking his index finger against your wrist mildly. "You don't have to answer me now. Finish telling your story."

"It was pretty much finished. And– and I'd like to. Go on a real date. I've never been out of the country, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to know everything about San Marino."

He looks at your lips. Says, "Good," and doesn't give any indication that he's noticed how nervous you are. That is, until he covers your trembling hand with his and presses it flat to the bar.

"You're really pretty," he murmurs. He takes a moment, and he smiles. "Come with me? If I don't give Sirius some attention soon he'll start showing off."

—

James is starting to wonder if he should invite you to San Marino. He's not that stupid; it would be a huge pain if you were standing in the middle of all his wedding photos and you and Remus don't work out. But, while he's certainly and majorly jumping the gun, he has a suspicion he’ll be seeing you again.

James has never seen Remus like this before.

His friend is usually quiet, quipping every now and then perhaps at Sirius' insufferable antagonism but otherwise brooding. He hasn't seen him smile this much, ever.

James is under no illusions — he knows Remus loves him very much. He knows Remus is happy, and not always healthy but managing. He knows Remus is pleased with their lives and ecstatic to have their music take off. But he also knows Remus won't let himself have a good thing, not really. Maybe that's why he's asked you out now, when in a week they'll be in San Marino, and a week after that they'll be in Cardiff to officially start the new tour.

He knows Remus, sweetheart, kind hearted, miraculous Remus, tends to let people down. He's a stickler for asking people out and cancelling the day before. It's how it always goes. James will ask how the date went and Remus will shake his head and say, "it didn’t work out."

He knows Remus doesn't mean to hurt anybody. He just… can't get close.

But he's trying, with you. A glass of cordial in one hand, the other behind your chair, Remus tells you one of his more embarrassing stories about how he'd taken a bad fall and ended up in A&E with half of an eyebrow. He doesn't mention the painkillers that made him woozy.

You've relaxed considerably since sitting down. James would be happy to report that you're having a good time. You have your own drink in hand, and your eyes are bright, with a receding space between your face and Remus' as the story goes on. It's like watching two magnets fight to hold themselves apart.

Matter of time, James thinks to himself smugly.

—

Honesty is important. You admit to yourself that you and Remus aren't exactly a perfect match. Both quiet, both not quite social butterflies, your conversations had occasionally been stilted and slow, but you've only met twice. Things don't have to be perfect, and more than that — there's a spark there. A twinge of a possibility. He'd liked what little he knew about you enough to ask to see you again, and you'd like what little you knew about him in turn to say yes.

It doesn't have to be perfect, you insist to yourself, a bundle of nerves. Nothing does.

He looks pretty perfect. Base of his palm pressed to the brick wall of the cafe, hand angled down as his fingers grasp the neck of a bouquet whose flowers have been shedding petals onto the damp pavement below. He holds his other hand against his chest, clicking buttons on his phone.

You approach from the left and watch him play a game of Snake.

"You play Snake?" you ask.

"Doesn't everybody?" he asks back, his smile softening what might otherwise feel like a chastisement. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"Woah, how long have you been out here?" you ask, eyeing his weirdly long snake.

Remus guides the snake into a wall on purpose. It dies, his high score flashes across the screen, and he aims an apologetic look your way. "Sorry, that was rude." He doesn't try to hide that he's looking over your face. "Thanks for coming."

He leans in and kisses your cheek. Delighted warmth curls in your stomach, worse when he passes you the bouquet of flowers. They've mostly survived his poor treatment, and there's a lot of them. He's left the price tag on and you're not sure if he's noticed. You pretend not to see it.

"Thank you…” You look away from the flowers, all whites and reds and baby’s breath, to ogle him as subtly as you can manage. “Wow, you've caught the sun. Was it lovely in San Marino?"

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner,” he says. “I thought we'd walk, it's not far." He holds out his hand. You wipe your palm against your side before you take it, worried you'll have clammy hands. He must guess, because he says, "Don't be nervous."

"I am," you say hopelessly. "I've never been on a date before."

"This is your first date?"

You feel a hot flush coming on. "I– yeah. That's embarrassing, I shouldn't have told you that."

"No, it's a good thing. Now I know it has to be extra special."

"It doesn't," you say.

"I was hoping it would be." He pulls you down the pavement and further into the city centre toward the main high street. "San Marino. It was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos but I didn't have room on my phone. Well, I could've deleted Snake–"

"Why would you?" you joke, grinning.

He laughs, and squeezes your hand slightly. "Exactly. I have priorities. It's a long flight, and looking over the photos can only take up so much time. No, but it really was… it was beautiful. I'd never given much thought to a destination wedding. They make sense, right? It's the best day of your life, why would you have it here?"

He tilts his chin toward the grey sky. You look up with him, feeling the cold wind kiss the sides of your face and pull through your hair.

"Come on, Remus, it's not that bad. If it's sun you're after, you could just wait for British summer time. You know, the whole three days of it."

He laughs — you've made him laugh twice already. This is going okay. Laughing while looking at one another, a bouquet in one hand and his hand in the other, you feel that curl of delight begin to bloom. It fills your insides up, has you smiling until your eyelashes brush in the corners.

"It was James' wedding. Do you remember which one that was?"

He asks so kindly. You don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't care if you forgot. It's refreshing, even if it's something you'd expect.

"I remember. I didn't realise he was getting married."

"Don't ever say that in front of him, he'll put himself on the cross." He swings your hand as you turn a corner. The Italian restaurant you'd agreed on winks from a distance.

"He's devoted," you guess.

"He's insane. He was worse when we were younger. His girlfriend– his wife," he amends, "Lily, she's really something else. Warm and funny, but she's been keeping him on his toes for years. She has family in San Marino, hence the wedding."

You listen to him talk eagerly. His voice is as handsome as his face, and the more he says the less stilted he becomes. There had been a strained quality to it before (strained, or restrained? something he wasn't saying) that's all but disappeared.

"It was like a movie. White linen, sand, crying."

"Did you cry?" you ask, expecting a puffed up chest.

"So much. Too much, maybe. I was half of the best man."

"Half?"

"We had to share, me and Sirius. They've always been…" Remus slows his steps. "Am I being boring? I'm talking too much about me."

"We have time. I want to hear it. I'd like to hear it," you say.

James and Sirius are brothers. Remus sees your surprised look and doesn't condemn you for it. Sirius is unofficially adopted. The Potter's fostered him from ages thirteen until he aged out, and though they tried to adopt him, Sirius was reluctant. Remus doesn't get into the reasons beyond that, and you don't ask. You suspect he's only telling you about it to drive home how much the Potter's love Sirius. How much James does.

Remus had been Sirius' friend from their very first year of comprehensive school. Sirius moved in with the Potter's, and, adoring as they were, they let him have friends over whenever he liked. James, Sirius, and Remus spent the next decade together like that, hiding in Sirius' room. Best friends, entirely inseparable, and all fiercely protective of each other.

"They've always been like brothers."

"But not…"

He understands what you're worried to say. "I think it would've been weird… I had a candle burning for James. For a long time."

Your jaw drops a little. "And you just had to watch him have the most romantic wedding ever," you whisper sympathetically. You're joking: it's clear the candle isn't burning now.

"Told you I cried," he says. "No, but you've seen him. He's a supermodel. It's awful."

"Remus, I think you might be underestimating how handsome you are," you say. You bite your lip and look at his chin rather than his eyes.

He's generous. He gives your wrist a tug and chuckles warmly. "I'm glad you think so. Tonight might have been awkward, otherwise."

You duck together inside of the restaurant, hands falling apart as Remus gives his last name for the reservation. Lupin. Your face has a mind of its own.

"Charming, isn't it?"

"It is," you say emphatically, denying his sarcasm. "I've never heard anything like that. Lupine, like a fox?"

"Wolf."

A server shows you to your table and hands you two leather covered menus. Leather, not plastic, a sign that tonight is going to be classy. You've dressed for the occasion in a smart blouse and slacks, too terrified of wearing a dress. Remus seems to have done the same as you, reaching for smart but dodging the mark in a button down and a casual jacket. When he takes off his coat, he looks perfect. He fits right in.

"Could we get a glass?" he asks the server. "For the flowers? If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all."

You run your hand across the silken tablecloth and the space between you both feels somehow smaller than when you'd been holding hands. Outside, you could let your gaze drift to the pavement, the fenced in trees, the couples that passed you by. Here, you're forced to watch one another.

It's not so bad. It's agonising.

"This is weird," you say. You flinch when you hear yourself. "Sorry, not that you're weird! I'm weird. I've never ever done this."

"No, I know," he says, almost murmuring, "it's okay."

"I just blurted out what I was thinking–"

"I know." He sits back in his chair. His head tilts down, his eyelashes kissing the skin above his brows as he fixes you with a look. It has the intended effect, tension easing from your rigid spine and tight shoulders. "This is weird. But it's still early. It could get weirder."

You like that he says it as if it's a good thing.

You order the same thing he does, and you don't turn down his offer to get a bottle of wine, though it feels too grown up. You keep forgetting you're an adult, and that your life isn't on hold. Things can happen to you at any time.

"I want to address the elephant in the room," he says.

Not promising. "Okay."

"Are we having dessert?" Remus leans forward on both forearms. Hair falls in his eyes. He's dressed nicely and he's handsome but there's something homespun about him, something golden. You can't help looking at him and thinking impossibly forward thoughts, cheesy waffle from the films. He's familiar. "Nobody ever wants to get dessert with me. It's actually a real issue for me."

"I'll get dessert with you." A smoother you with more confidence, who wore the dress and asked him to go to the Thai restaurant instead, would've said something more suave. We're having whatever you want, handsome.

Remus flips the menu to the very last page and reads the desserts aloud. For himself, it seems, half-muttered and apprehensive. "Chocolate cake from places like this will either be the nicest thing we've ever eaten or burnt in the microwave. And it's childish that I want chocolate cake. I should be spoon feeding you creme brulee. Or whipped cream and strawberries."

He tips his head back and rubs his eyes. It's a charade of feigned self loathing that makes you laugh.

"I'm a child," he laments, thumb and index finger pressed into his eyes. He checks to see if you're watching before doubling down.

"I like cake," you say, and you'd lie if you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Handsome, kind, and funny. Not to mention talented. He needs smart for the sweep.

Remus falls out of his dramatics. You mourn the loss, beggy a good look on him, but forget all about it when he slides his chair around the table to share the menu with you, your heads inclined as you read it together again. He smells woody. You hope he likes the jasmine of your perfume.

"It all sounds really nice," you confide, afraid to disturb the comfortable hush. "I haven't had gelato since I was a kid. Oh, did they have real gelato in San Marino?"

“They had a lot of stuff in San Marino… I want to hear about you.”

“What do you want to hear?”

The questions start and don’t stop. Where did you grow up? That’s the easy part. What did you study in school? Were you in sports? The art club? And what do you do now, when you aren’t working in the cafe? The more he asks, the easier it is to answer. He doesn’t slow when the waiter brings a glass for your bouquet, simply stands and places them inside with exceedingly gentle hands, smiling at you from between the stems. You eat slowly when the food arrives — you're busy talking.

It feels fucking amazing. To have someone want to know anything about you. And unless he’s an actor of the highest regard, he’s obviously enjoying your conversations, though they wilt and wane and wind around one another. You lose track of time and thread as the night goes on, distracted by the near unnoticeable asymmetry of his smile, and the way he laughs when you laugh, like an echo.

You get cake like he wanted. Triple fudge cake with buttercream thick but melting from the heat. It looks straight from the pages of a magazine, glossy and dusted with sugar powder, but he doesn’t seem to like it. He takes a couple of bites and leaves it alone. You don’t want to look greedy, so you do the same.

The date is suddenly over.

“Could I walk you home?” he asks, when you’ve both put your coats back on, and the damp roots of your flowers are leaving an imprint on your chest.

You nod rather than answer.

Things are good, not perfect. That’s what you keep thinking. There’s something he isn’t saying. Or, horrifyingly, something he doesn’t like about you. Still, the sky is velvet black and the air is crisp. Stars like needlepoints dot the air. Street lights work to hide them, casting a warm yellow glow over the pavements and your meandering shoes.

A brisk wind whips past you. You shiver and press your lips together hard, hands quick to rigidity. Remus looks at you sideways, and breaks the quiet. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” No point in lying when he can see you trembling.

“Do you want my coat?”

“No, no, it’s alright–“ You cut off as he steps in front of you, his hand vying for yours.

He tucks the flowers under his arm and sandwiches your fingers between his. He has short fingernails, and another scar down one pinky finger. How’d you get that one? you want to ask. How’d you get any of them?

His breath clouds the air. “I should’ve thought about the cold.”

“This is better,” you say. Than a warm taxi home. His thumbs brushing down the backs of your hands.

You walk to your flat building and hesitate at the foyer door. The potential for a kiss goodnight has flayed your thoughts. The image of his hands climbing your arms, holding you still, plays like a flickering film. You have no idea if he’s going to do it.

“How will you get home?” you ask quietly.

“I parked by the cafe, it isn’t far.”

“Oh…” The lights from your building paint him the faintest shade of pink. Your breath fogs out in front of you, as does his, and the warmth of walking will soon fade. “I–“

“Here,” he says, handing you the flowers again.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Fits the recipient.”

It takes a second for you to get it. Oh, you think. You can hardly feel the cold now. Your heart hurts, and you’re begging him to want to take a step toward you. The silence goes for too long.

“I– I’d love to see you again,” you say. Love comes out funny. Maybe because you can feel his rejection coming.

“I won’t be here next week. Not for a long time. We’re touring properly, now.” He scratches the side of his face.

“Right. Right, of course you are. Um, good luck with that. And thank you for tonight, for dinner.” You wave your flowers weakly.

He looks at you. He takes a half step toward you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You really are pretty,” he says finally. “Goodnight.”

He smiles quick and turns quicker. You watch him walk a few steps but ultimately can’t face it, pushing into the foyer of your building with a hardset frown. Your hands shake, minute abstractions of the sharp rejection panging in your chest. Your ears roar and then go quiet. What did I do wrong? you think, shocked and upset and trying to rationalise. He doesn’t have to kiss you. He asked you out on a maybe, and now whatever question he had is answered.

The door creaks open. You spin on your heel, too wrapped up to think about hiding your expression. Remus stands in the doorway of the porch, his arm pressed to the glass panel, the other held out to you.

"Come here," he says quietly. It isn't a question, but he's asking.

You step into his reach, letting him pull you by the waist against his chest. He leans down until his nose glances against ýours, and he starts to say something. You push your chin up in your eagerness and he doesn't try again. He kisses you, once, contrite, and he pulls back and his hand clasps your arm tight as he ducks in for another. His lips are fast to lose the cold of the weather, but his tongue is a hot shock at the seam of your own.

You go weak in his arms. The flowers between you crunch and smother themselves. You can’t think about it. Your hands are numb. He takes over every one of your senses until you’re more kiss than thought, reciprocating his slow, deep searching. You run out of breath.

He eases you backward, cupping the side of your head in his big palm.

“I want to see you again,” he says hoarsely. “But I– I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His hand adjusts against your cheek, like he’s worried you’re slipping out of his hold. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can wait,” you say.

“I couldn’t ask you to.”

You rub your buzzing lips together, each heaven of your chest marked by the crinkling sound of cellophane.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” you ask.

He strokes the edge of your mouth with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him. You don’t know if this will work, any of it, the broad stroke or this one night, but you want him.

—

Remus doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows how to fuck somebody, that isn’t the problem. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with you. The same thing that made him walk away had pulled him right back in, had him skipping steps on the staircase up to your flat, drinking in the back of your head and roll of your shoulders as you’d made apologies for the mess inside.

He doesn’t feel like himself when he’s with you. He thinks of it like this — what he is, his pain, his wants, that’s all set in stone. Any change is an erosion, and little by little over the years he’s managed to whittle himself down into the smallest, cleanest version of himself. Then suddenly the band’s making money, people are listening to his voice on the radio in countries all over the world, and he can’t hide anymore. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, after all. What else inspires a performer into the spotlight? The music, he thinks desperately, knowing it’s half a lie.

Isn’t it why he’d asked you to the show? Come and watch me sing. See me at my most impressive. My most curated.

And now he’s following you into your bedroom after one date, about to strip it all away.

“You didn’t have too much wine, did you?” he asks. You hadn’t really finished your first glass, but it won’t hurt to make sure.

You peel your jacket off and drop it over the back of a wide armchair. “I don’t think so. Did you?”

“No.” His head has never been this clear.

He thinks about what you said. This is your first date, and he’s not clueless enough to assume that never going on a date means never having sex, but he wants to be careful with you anyway. He wants this to last beyond a dinner date.

Which means he has to get out of his head.

Beyond all of his own mess, he really does think you're pretty. More than pretty. You’re beautiful, and your voice…

He wants to see what other sounds you make.

Remus gets his hands on you. Soft touches, his hands coasting from your elbows to your warming hands. He squeezes your fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. He rests his nose against the skin beneath your eye. “Tell me if it’s too much?” he asks, a murmur of hot air.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely audible.

He pulls away to make sure you’re alright, and is surprised to see a glassy sheen in your eyes. He holds your face in both hands and works your lips open against his, guiding you backwards into the plush of your poorly made bed. He’s all sweet touches and eager kisses, cautious not to hurt you, or let too much of his weight press against your soft torso. His kisses follow to the corner of your mouth, the tip of his nose tender against your cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he says. He isn’t complaining, but he wants to hear your voice.

“I’m a bit preoccupied.”

He laughs into your skin, kissing down to your jaw. “You’re right,” he says, revelling in the goosebumps that rise under his hands.

Your shaking inhales cleave a pit in his stomach. He mouths at the side of your neck, half-kisses, tiny warning nips before he thumbs open the first button of your shirt. He meanders, dropping a path crescent moon kisses into your front until the fabric of your bra gets in the way. The soft hill of your breast staggers to a halt beneath him. He can tell that you’re holding deliberately still.

Kisses. You need more kisses, an absolution from any lingering nervousness. Your hands thread into his hair gently, your fingers raking wavy strands behind his ears as you give in. You melt into your sheets, your legs parting from the pressure of his hips.

Your hands fall from his hair to needle between your two bodies and undo the rest of your buttons. The fabric falls aside, your chest and tummy his to catalogue. He drops his hand against your stomach, smoothing a line down to your slacks. His lips ache against yours as he asks, “Can I?”

“Please.”

He smiles at your daunted expression. “Can I take these off?” he asks you, his fingertip running under the edge of your underwear. “Please?” he teases.

Your skin is a furnace, hot hot hot everywhere he touches as you nod your permission and Remus undresses you, one piece of clothing at a time. Your trousers, your shirt. Your bra, your underwear. His fingers slip in his ardency as he tears out of his own button down.

Your thumb traces a scar.

He looks up from your chest, startled, but you aren’t giving him anything he doesn’t want. There’s no pity in your gaze, no curiosity, no sadness. Just lust, your trembling hands pulling his slacks down the lengths of his thighs.

He pulls the condom from his wallet in his pocket and lets it fall to the floor.

Remus hooks his hands under your arms and urges you back against the headboard, a pillow behind your head, your thighs tipping open as his hand runs down between them. He grabs at them greedily, handfuls of fat that have his mouth dry as a bone.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks. He needs to know.

You squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head.

Fuck. “Hey, look at me,” he says, waiting for your eyes to meet before continuing. “I just want to make you feel good. If I don’t, you let me know.”

He waits for you to answer aloud. “I will,” you say, your hand behind his back and urging him forward. “Please.”

“What did I say?” he jokes gently, letting his weight bear down on you again.

He closes his eyes, his lips in what feels like a new home at the juncture of your neck. His hands skirt dangerously close to your heat.

He’s gentle. He rubs a sweeping line against your cunt with the front of his fingers, heart hammering fast as a mouse’s when he finds the little button of your clit. You shiver and shudder and squirm as he toys with you, your fingers steadfast against the plane of his back while he opens you up. His lips part in tandem, not nearly as kind as his hands. His teeth scratch against your throat.

Your soft moans move through him as he hickeys over your pulse, chasing each capering thud of blood. He winds you up. You’re snug around his fingers, fluttering, and he knows he’s probed something sweet when your breath catches and you whine.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

You nod, heavy headed, and lick your lips as he tears open the condom and eases it onto his cock, one measured roll at a time.

“Can you– I want you to–” You turn your face from him, the line of your jaw kissed by the lamplight outside, and the rest hidden.

He drags you down to lay flat on your back and holds himself over you, nudging his nose against yours until you lift your head. Face to face, he gives himself time to adore the shape and colour of your eyes, the side of his hand brushing along your cheek. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sincerely. The slickness between your legs is obvious, but he doesn’t want to blindside you. “It will feel…”

You nod, saving him the explanation. It will feel weird. Good, but foreign. “Will you kiss me again?” you ask feebly.

He can’t stop himself. He kisses your lips sore, his hand behind the crook of your knee pushing your leg up toward your stomach as he slides into the space he’s made there. He breaks the kiss to listen to your breathing as he pushes forward.

Remus hadn’t been lying — he wants it to feel good. He takes it slow, his thrusting almost languid as you get to grips with the feeling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, struggling to smother the moan that escapes him as he feels you clench around him. You gasp, your arms tightening around his waist, destroying any semblance of space between your sweat-damp bodies as you hold him tight. He murmurs praises in your ear, his forearms tucked beneath your shoulder blades, hands gripping your shoulders a touch too hard. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to somebody, can’t remember ever feeling so maddeningly lost, like he’s one good push from hurtling over the edge.

He kisses your cheek, calling you all the things he’d been too scared to say before. “Lovely girl,” he pants, “how’s that feel?” And, when you answer, “Yeah, you’re taking it so well, dove. Think you can take a little more?”

All that nervousness and desperation shrinks down to dust, and the smiling girl he’d been with at dinner comes to the forefront. There’s no mistaking it. You giggle something awful and turn your face into his, kissing him between sounds, dizzying him with the tender scratch of your nails down his back as he starts to move.

“There she is,” he says lightly, almost smirking. “Feel good?”

“Feels– oh,” —you shiver violently, filled all the way up— “feels good.”

Remus let’s his forehead fall to your chin, his eyes closed in pleasure, his cock to the hilt. Every move he makes evokes a near sinful sound from you, mewling, silvery whimpers and pleased little laughs when he angles his hips right. He’s a mess, desperate to cum from the second you touched him and running on stolen time as he presses you deep into your mattress. One of your hands flies backward into the pillows and scrunches up into a ball, the look on your face too tempting to ignore.

The first time you fuck someone — it’s never timed right. Remus knows he hasn’t quite figured you out, but he knows enough to get you where he wants you. He slides his hand between your bodies and your soft cunt to draw circles into your clit, entranced by your twitching lashes as the pleasure builds. You chase him with your hips, and he grabs your hand at the last second to stop you from covering your mouth, holding it above your head as you come apart.

He cooes at you. The sound you make — the breathless little cry that leaves you, your hips jutting up to meet him. He’s at your mercy, just like he said.

Remus fucks into the extra tightness, drawing your climax out for as long as he can. You’re smiling as you shove his arm away, a playful chastisement that wanes when you see the look on his face. “Are you close?” you ask, brushing a curled strand of hair from his eyes.

Close? Remus is fucked.

“You can go faster,” you say, “rougher, whatever you want.”

“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back.

His rutting hips slap the backs of your thighs. He squeezes your waist, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it pulls him in. One last wavering, “Oh, fuck,” from you is all it takes for Remus to lose it. White hot pleasure tightens his whole body, his abdomen aflame. You scramble to gather him back into your arms. You kiss him, swallowing his resulting string of moans.

He has to catch his breath afterward. You comb the hair back from his face, your eyes droopy with pleasure.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, voice stringy.

“Of course not.” You’re quickly losing your confidence. Remus hates it, but he understands. This vulnerability can only stretch so far.

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over if you stand.”

He strokes your face with the back of his ring finger, his nail ghosting along the highest point of your cheek. “Funny,” he says dryly.

He gets confused in your bathroom, and you won’t let him towel you off, but when he lies down beside you with his boxers back in place you don’t push him away. You drop your face into his chest and curl up.

He drags the quilt over your naked back.

Was that okay? he wants to ask. “Sore?” he worries instead.

“Don’t think so.”

He chews his cheek. “You’re alright?”

You stir, looking up at him through your lashes. He thinks you’re the kind of pretty people might not always see. You’re clearly beautiful, but there’s something else to it. The way you move, maybe. The way your eyes smile before your lips can catch up.

“I’m fine. I’m good… Can I…”

He hums. “What?”

“Could I kiss you again?”

You speak so quietly, he hears the vibration in your throat more than the sound of your voice. It’s endearingly timid. He feels his attraction for you flare violently.

He wants to ask you to come with him to Cardiff. He knows he can’t. It’s yards too soon, but for a second he entertains the thought.

“Wait for me to come home,” he says. He’s still asking for more than he should. “I want to see you again. You can kiss me as much as you want, if you say you’ll wait.”

You nod immediately. Not a flicker of reluctance to be seen.

You lift your chin and kiss him. He tries to make it the kind of kiss worth waiting for.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging cos it helps more than you might think <3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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chrollohearttags · 1 month

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escape to paradise • e. jaeger: part one

spoiling your husband for his special day turns into a surprise, he’ll soon never forget

themes + things: musician x influencer au, slight angst at the beginning, mentions of illness and death, lots of humor and fluff, eren being a grouch about his birthday, soft but disgusting smut, equal parts porn and plot, alcohol and drug use, aphrodisiacs, consensual groping, handjob, oral sex (m. receiving), riding/reverse cowgirl, many other things

word count: 5.9K

I’m a few days late on this but honestly, it really does not matter. I’m not going to abandon another wip bc I ‘didn’t make it on time’. Besides, this site is lacking serious depth in its fics and I’m just so proud of this one. It’s going to be two parts just bc keep reading lines + anything that’s not a one liner post with ten men's names attached seems to scare the girls. Also, I feel as though I haven't written anything this lengthy or for my fav ship in a very long time so forgive me if the quality is not as great as others, I’m getting my bearings back and I hope that y’all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Birthdays. A momentous occasion for many..often dubbed as ‘another trip around the sun’, they find themselves grateful to be growing old in a world where it’s not guaranteed you’ll see the next day. Some choose to celebrate with extravagant parties and lavish gifts, others prefer a casual kickback with loved ones and a grocery store cake. It doesn’t matter as long as you do something to mark the occasion…however, for others …

“Yeah, just come by later. I can take a look at it after I finish up this other job—yeah yeah, for sure, dude. I got you—“

it was another day on the calendar! That sentiment rang true for the man who had been spending his past seven years holed up inside of a studio on his special day. EJ The Don, just as infamous for his anti-social, despondent behavior as he was for his amazing music, harbored absolutely no desire to be in some crowded club or party, surrounded by people who couldn’t give a shit less about him or his well-being the other three hundred sixty four days of the year. He was adamant on doing one thing and that was being left the hell alone. But even for his wife, (y/n) (l/n), who often mirrored his beliefs in terms of dealing with the public, was determined to make his day one to remember, whether anyone else was involved or not. However, the only person standing in the way of Eren’s relaxation and free time…was Eren himself! You were currently on your way to bring him some dinner you had made, in an effort to not only allow him a sabbatical but to ease the impending conversation that had been plaguing your mind onto him. You had finished up filming and editing some content in your own office not too long ago and was ready to call it a night. Sadly, the concept of rest didn’t quite register with your husband. He was a workaholic, through and through..hence why you were about to offer him a proposal and hoped that he didn’t refuse. Shifting the warm plate of homemade mashed potatoes, steak and lots of steamed broccoli into your opposite hand, you’d leave two faint knocks against the door.

“Can I come in?…”

the question seemed to startle the musician a bit as you heard him shuffling around and trying to lower the volume on his phone. He’d stutter a bit and ask that you give him just a minute. The whole thing seemed rather suspicious and make no mistake, you trusted your husband wholeheartedly but he was by the far, the most horrible liar you’ve ever met! A majority of women would jump to the conclusion of infidelity if placed into this exact scenario. They’d see it as a blatant phone call to a mistress or something related…that he had something to hide. But you? That was the furthest thing from your mind. It honestly was never even a worry of yours. He constantly reminded you of the fact that he was blessed enough to even bag you, he damn sure wasn’t going to test his luck and lose you by stepping outside of marriage and for someone like him, cheating took entirely too much work! Instead, you knew exactly what was going on and although, the severity was nowhere near that of another woman on his line, you were still angry nonetheless…finally, he’d give you permission to enter and once he did, you were met with that very toothy, shit-eating grin that he loved to feed you, along with a nervous cackle when he was doing something wrong. You could read his ass like a book!..

“H-hey princess. Don’t you look beautiful tonight—“

standing before him in an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts and a silk bonnet atop your head, (y/n) placed a hand on your hip whilst brandishing his food in the other. He could immediately sense the trouble he was in and decided to face you fully; spinning his chair around. He had no other option that to face the scolding that awaited him.

“Don’t ‘hey, princess’ me, Eren Michael. You know good and damn well you shouldn’t be up here this late. It’s almost midnight, you haven’t eaten anything since this morning and I heard your lil’ phone call. You just accepted another job, didn’t you..didn't you?!”

the reaction may have seemed a bit drastic and maybe you were being dramatic about the whole situation but for valid reason! Truth be told, he had no reason to be working so late into the night…his major projects and songs were completed for the time being so he could afford a break. Secondly, he shouldn’t have even been accepting outside work…especially considering what had transpired less than three weeks ago. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, that much was apparent and the last thing he wanted to do was go tit for tat with you at the moment. That was unless he wanted a tongue lashing out of this world and to be sleeping in the guest room for the next month. He wasn’t going to risk it but in true Eren fashion, he had to make an argument somehow..

“So what if I did? Babe, it’s just a small favor..it’ll take me less than an hour to do this and then I’m seated for the rest of the weekend. I can’t just not work..shit, still got bills to pay.”

nonchalantly declaring as he turned back to his computer, clicking away at the keys. Meanwhile, you’d take a seat next to him and place his food down also. Your intention was to never halt Eren from making his money or working. The two of you agreed that neither of you would ever stand in the way of one another’s careers or financial opportunities. They were something each of you had agreed upon that would remain sacred. However, when said ‘financial opportunities’ had caused quite a commotion in the household and it wasn’t just some minor incident, it was one that quite literally nearly turned your world upside down. All in a matter of minutes…

“...and what’s more important? Work or your own health?..because you seem to value it a lot more.. ” as you spoke the words into the air, you’d begin to choke up also. It was then that you’d replay the events from earlier in the month that made you nearly lose all control and every shred of your sanity..

flashback: two weeks ago…

“..911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes! My name is (y/n) (l/n)..address is 9432 South Pointe…”

it was a call that you never hoped to have to have to make in your life. All too well had you known the horrors of having to cart a loved one off to the hospital via an ambulance after a terrible health scare and you never wanted to experience that again. But alas, here you were… frantically pacing the kitchen floor of your three story home, clutching your phone as you spoke with operators to dish out the reason for your call. (Y/N) had just returned from your routine morning run with you and Eren’s two dogs. It was something you’d do every single day as part of your workout regime. Not to mention, it gave you quality time with your fur babies. It was also a ritual that Eren would join you in and you guys would circle the spacey area; being as if you had no neighbors, with leashes in one hand as you jogged alongside one another. For one reason or another, Eren decided to hang back, saying that he was going to pass on the run. But would instead, have breakfast ready for you two once you got back. You didn’t think much into it, considering the fact that he had been working late into the night and more than likely needed some extra rest. However, you couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion gnawing away at your conscience.

‘I’m fine, princess. You go ahead, just be careful, okay?’

you guys agreed it’d be best to shorten your route whilst you were alone. Although, any would be assailants, hoping for an easy target would not only be met with the bloodthirsty wrath of two very protective pit bulls, that would tear them from limb to limb…but a woman who loved to fight and could do so very well. Not to mention, you never left home without some form of protection on your persons. Needless to say, you didn’t have any reservations about going out with your lonesome. Little did you know though…the true threat was waiting back home. Because it wasn’t a full ten minutes into your run did both Chino and Chanel begin alerting back to the house..they refused to go any further and instead, tugged at their leashes to go back. You were confused but your babies never led you astray.

“What’s wrong y’all? Do y’all wanna eat—“

That’s when you made the discovery…an unconscious Eren, lying on the kitchen floor! He was out cold, no signs of a break in, struggle or even a crime at all. It was odd. He was clutching his phone and when you turned it over, it was set to call you. You had not the slightest idea what had happened but the only thing you were concerned with was getting him the proper help. After answering a series of questions to the best of your knowledge, the kind and very helpful dispatcher informed you that an ambulance was on its way along with a police car, just in case. They arrived in only minutes and although that was something you certainly wasn’t used to in your early life, you were thankful. When they got there, they checked him over and by the grace of the heavens alone, he still had a very strong pulse but he was out cold. Unresponsive by sound but would faintly squeeze fingers..it was one of the better scenarios but still frightening nonetheless. The cops asked if anything suspicious happened and you told them that you’d only gone for a walk when your dogs kept pulling you back and that’s when you saw your husband. They determined that there was nothing criminal taking place and soon, left without incident. Only sending well wishes to Eren.

but now, you were tasked with trying to figure out what had happened to Eren! Once they loaded him up; still dressed in his sweats and no shirt, house slippers on and his hair down, you’d be right by his side in the back of the rescue. Clutching his hand, you clung to him as they checked all the necessary things and started IV’s. His vitals were a little concerning to say the least. An elevated heart rate, a spike in body temperature and what seemed to be cold sweats. They asked about any drug use, drinking…anything of the sort. You had only known Eren to smoke weed and have the occasional drink but nothing crazy. But it wasn’t until you arrived at the hospital, got checked in and a plethora of tests were conducted, would you truly know the extent of his condition and what you heard shocked you…

“Vaso…what?” “Vasovagal syncope..in other words, he’s collapsed from severe exhaustion and stress and is currently comatose. The good news is, he’s still mentally responsive. Right now, he’s just in a deep slumber. This is one of the more severe cases so he may be out for a few days. But as long as there’s no significant drop in vitals or brain activity, he should be fine.”

the doctor overseeing Eren’s care was rather helpful but seemed so nonchalant about something that had rattled you to your core. Your sweet, beloved husband was lying here unconscious and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it! You’d alert his mom, friends and you guys’ bosses. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before gifts and well wishes, along with media attention began to pour in. It was overwhelming to say the least…you rarely left his side for those three days. Barely even long enough to eat, shower and grab a change of clothes. When he finally came to, that breath that had remained hitched in your throat had finally released. You were terrified of what the alternative could have been so you were thanking God that he was okay. “Eren! Oh my God..” immediately bursting into tears as you flung your arms around him and sobbed. You were so relieved but so damn scared…how could he scare you like that?!

“Aw, princess. I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to worry you, baby. I’m fine..”

“Well you sure have a hell of a way of showing it. I’m so mad at you..don’t you ever do that stupid shit ever again!…”

Which was a very understandable reaction but your tears overshadowed that. The reality was that he was not close to being anything of the sort. His condition was a lot more urgent than before. As this wasn’t the first time he’d collapsed from exhaustion. Long nights in a studio to wild performances and dangerous habits to boot. So many moving elements went into being the rap sensation that everyone knew and loved but they only got the finished product and not the hard, strenuous work it took to get there. This industry was a machine and each artist, creative or talent that entered was a mere cog on the wheel. It was brutal, disgusting and once it was done with you, it all but possessed the power to spit you out when it was done. So naturally, you weren’t so apt to let him follow the same path once he recovered. The pain you felt whilst seated next to him, hearing machines beep as they monitored his unconscious body and fed him necessary sustenance…it was overwhelming. So you made a vow right then and there, that you wouldn’t allow him to work himself into an early grave. A promise to both him and yourself that you’d take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor..before it was too late.

end flashback

“Look, I’m not tryna’ tell you what to do but I’m just worried. You scared the hell out of me, Eren..I don’t want to come in here and find you like that again. What if next time it’s too late?…”

he could sense the imminent fear in your eyes and the sadness spread across your face. In truth, Eren had never had to think about the consequences of his actions and another person’s feelings towards them. It would explain his very careless actions and reckless behavior. He’d stay in this room for hours and no one would check in on him, other than housekeeping. He could drink until his liver corroded and no one batted an eyelash. He was free to do as he pleased but now, he had you..and there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d let him continue down this destructive path. You loved him far too much for that..by this time, he had thanked you and snatched up his dinner. He always loved your cooking far more than any private chef or restaurant. The fact that you took time out of your own busy schedule to make sure he was eating and taken care of was something that he’d always be appreciative of. Setting it down, Eren would swallow his bite and wipe his mouth before rolling his chair towards you.

“..there won’t be a next time, I promise. Listen, I’m sorry, princess. I know I’ve been moving a lil’ careless lately. But I won’t keep putting you or myself through that. After this, I’m taking a break. No more projects, no more studio sessions…just me and you.”

which was the perfect segway into why you’d come in here to begin with. See, he wasn’t the only one who had been grinding to get what he wanted. Not only was Eren a workaholic, he’d always made it his mission to spoil you rotten. In his eyes, he was the provider so he had to make sure you were kept in every aspect of your life. He didn’t want you spending your money on anything other than leisure. As long as the two of you remained together, he was going to protect you. However, you were adamant on sharing the responsibility. Not so much in the sense of splitting expenses fifty fifty or taking on a ton of bills. But rather..you wanted to take care of him for once. Spoil your husband and make sure he knows just how much you loved him. And not a moment too soon because a rather special occasion was nearing the corner.

“Your birthday is in a few days and I was thinking…what if you and I left the country for a bit?”

the statement catching him off guard but you’d be quick to explain. “No distractions, no parties, no work. Just complete relaxation. Just like you wanted. It’s perfect timing. Do you remember what you told me in the hospital?” Flashing him a warm grin as you giggled and held his hand. That’s when the conversation replayed in his mind. Once he had awoken, Eren’s outlook had shifted. When the doctor informed him that his condition was due to stress and exhaustion, he was truly frightened as well. Realizing that his careless actions could land him in a coma or much worse if he didn’t start taking care of himself. That’s when he began to think more so along the lines of recuperation. What could he do or where could he go to truly decompress for once? That’s when he made a great suggestion in his medically induced state of mind, rambling as morphine and narcotics coursed through his veins. With tears building at his waterline and his eyes barely opening..

“I just wanna go lay up on an island somewhere…kick my feet up with your ass in my hands and watch the water. I’m so tired of all of this…deadlines and shit. I’m so tired of working for this machine, man..I just wanna escape.”

you hadn’t forgotten those words and you’d make certain that his dream came to fruition. So without his knowledge, you’d footed the bill for a very special, illustrious getaway to the islands. A week-long stay in a secluded island suite in Fiji..surrounded by beautiful blue waters, palm trees and flowers, and the best part? No other guests. You’d have an entire portion of that area to yourselves. He’d bring in his birthday just the way he had hoped for! “Yeah, but you know I can’t do that. I was just talking—“ “Well be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.” Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you’d show him the confirmation for the private flight and trip you had already so kindly taken the liberty to do. There was truthfully no excuse for him not to take a leave. It wasn’t as if the two of you had children yet or some other overwhelming responsibility to care for. You were in the primes of your lives and careers. You deserved to live as such. So before he even had the chance to attest or change your mind, you’d show him that he too deserved to be pampered.

“..so, when are we leaving?”

Immediately sending him into a toothy smirk. There was no arguing with you when you became set in your ways. You were stubborn but your heart and intentions were always pure. And for that, he truly was thankful and blessed to be able to call you his wife!

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yeah..I know. But that’s exactly why you married me.” You’d chuckle as you stood to your feet, retrieving his plate and leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Now go pack. I’m not playing with you, sir.” “You know I like it when you tell me what to do..gets me excited.” Alluding to something a little more salacious than your previous discussion, prompting you to smack your lips and playfully slap at him. “Bye! And bring your ass to bed, please.”

This trip was certainly going to be one to remember!

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(biiiig long time skip bc I am not writing all of that and this fic is so long already!)

Matangi Private Islands, Fiji: two days later, March 29th…

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It was just barely sunrise when the two of you made landfall on the coasts of the secluded islands. All courtesy of a first class, private flight from the comfort of his jet. It was just one of the many amenities that were afforded with this lifestyle. Something that he’d have to take part in more often. Crystalline blue waters waved across the shoreline, palm trees and colorful flowers flowing in the breeze and birds chirped in the far off distance. Currently, you were getting checked into your suite and what awaited you guys was an oasis like neither of you had ever seen… “Isn’t it beautiful?! Babe, look at this..it’s so big.” Sunshine beamed over the pathway, headed to the designated suite. A huge hut-style home from the exterior, equipped with three rooms, two baths and tons of amenities on the inside. Three wooden bridges connected to you to all sides of the island, allowing you access to the waters, the pool and the front gate. There was a very spacious living area and kitchen, accompanied by a private chef who’d prepare you all whatever you desired. The most picturesque bathrooms you’ve ever seen and sleek, modern decorations. But perhaps, by far the most impressive perk was the fact that there was no one on this island for at least three miles except the staff. You were in complete solitude, just as he wanted. It was a gift that had come not a moment too soon. Seeing as how the whole reason for this little adventure was less than twenty four hours away..

“Princess, this is really nice. I mean..really nice. But was this necessary? I mean, how much did this cost?”

Scraping slowly behind you in his Balenciaga slides, black sweats from the same brand and a tank top..Eren seemed rather fussy for someone who was supposed to be on vacation. You had all but expected this..it was no surprise that he was going to put up a fight about not being able to be tied to that damn desk, but you paying his way for this ordeal! However, you weren’t much in the mood to hear him complaining because his stubbornness was no match for your own and when you wanted your way, best believe that’s what damn well was going to happen. Turning to him, sporting your skin tight sundress..a fluorescent lime green that complimented your dark complexion perfectly..and had him rather happy, you’d immediately turn to face him and place his cheeks between your palms, squishing his face. Standing on your tiptoes to meet his gaze.

“That, my sweet love..is not important. What is important is that you have a good time...and as long as that happens. Nothing else matters to me.” Which was about the most ideal answer he was going to get. Releasing a heavy sigh, it took him no time at all to soften..he couldn’t argue when he saw that smile on your pretty face. What was the harm in allowing you to take the reins for once and he followed? Most importantly, what could it hurt to be the one who was getting spoiled this time around? Besides, he had full faith that you’d make this trip..one he’d soon never forget! “Alright. Fine, angel. I trust you and I love you…thank you for this. I really appreciate it.” “Of course…” bending down to cup your own cheeks and plant a gentle yet deep kiss on your lips. Giving a rather warm and suggestive glare into your eyes. One that neither of you wanted to pull away from. It had been a while since you guys had been able to have quality alone time like this. It felt good to not be interrupted by texts of practice or meetings. Or someone knocking on the door, saying that a guest had arrived. It was blissful and there wasn’t anyone around to stop whatever was about to transpire. For right now, you’d allow your bodies to do the talking. Soon, those strong hands of his that once rested on your cheeks readjusted and moved to the back of your head to fully entrap you into a more sensual peck. Releasing deep breaths, you’d both smack and whimper against one another’s lips as you began to make out. Eventually, those hands found home around your throat and yours trailed up his chest. You hadn’t noticed much until now but your man had been working out quite a bit. Since his hospital scare, he’d made somewhat of an effort at better living. His newly chiseled physique wasn’t lost on you..nor was the way he seemed to be craving intimacy. A lack of physical touch and alone time had made him quite needy for you..in more ways than one.

“I know it’s a lil’ early and all but…I think I wanna unwrap my gift right now.”

“Mmm..is that right?”

giggling against his lips as your faces met with only a hair breadth of distance between you. The tension was looming and rather thick. A single look at all of you and it wouldn’t be hard to tell just how badly you needed to release some stress. Tugging at his bottom lip between your teeth, you’d continue making out as you shuffled towards the kitchen counter, where he’d waste no time, setting you on top of it. Eren had you all to himself without a single soul around to intervene in your affairs. So best believe, he was going to enjoy himself! Moving his lips from your jawline to your throat, your husband marked the skin with very soft kisses and gentle suckles that would leave faint hickies. Meanwhile, his hands gilded delicately down your body. Even making a couple stops to smack and squeeze on that plump ass. Until they found home on your breasts..where he’d very carefully grope. Massaging those perky tits and stroking your nipples on his thumb pads. “…so fucking pretty..” He loved your reactions. The way you moaned for him. Whimpering each time he made a move and all but begged him for more.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna wait until after breakfast, babe?” Which earned the exact response you were expecting from him. Who had a ravenous appetite of his own but not for any good.

“I got something to eat right here..fuck all that..” muttering against one another’s lips as you both broke into soft giggles. He was adamant in enjoying every moment of this away time. And more so specifically, making up for all the time lost between you two, due to his busy schedule. You’d been married for the better part of a couple years and although you were madly in love with each other, it hadn’t been easy. Long nights, work events, tour dates and all the other external factors that prevented you guys from being alone…made it difficult to enjoy yourselves. It was times that you craved each other so desperately that distance or exhaustion kept you away. That your bodies practically yearned and cried out. However, they were mere afterthoughts at the moment. You could enjoy your man with no interruption and vice versa. And best believe, Eren was going to get more than his fill of you.

“Here, put your legs up and lean back for me..” his instructions followed by his hands cupping your cheek once more and marking you with more gentle pecks. Naturally, you’d do so and part your thighs wide open. Giving him quite the nice surprise in return..chewing at your lower lip and index finger, you’d watch the reaction on his face…along with the one in his shorts!

“Oh shit…ain’t even wearing any panties. You knew what you wanted, huh?” Pegging you immediately because he knew that each of you were on the same type of time. Inching closer, Eren’s fingers gradually dredged up that exposed slit. “Can you blame me? I missed you..” giving him that irresistible pout and doe eyes that always drive him insane. Whilst one hand worked you over; grinding yourself against his digits, his other kept gently caressing your face and eventually, you’d pop his thumb into your mouth and suckle on the tip. It was enough to make him put you through this damn marble top right now! “Yeah?..I missed you more, princess. Missed all of this..” subtly grunting in the deep tone of his as he slipped a finger inside of you and heard the pop that followed. “This shit’s so fucking tight, princess..and wet. This all me?” “Of course..been thinking about you all week. How bad I needed you..” confessing to him in a whiny tone whilst rubbing his chiseled chest. Among other things, including how you were going to spend the entire week fucking on him..how you spent your time away on tour, playing with yourself to his voice messages and own salacious videos he’d sent. Jerking himself off behind the camera as he professed his love and desire for you. Ending in a splatter of warm semen all over his screen as he cried out your name. And him causing you to flood your hotel sheets after plunging yourself on those dainty fingers. It was too much to bear..he had to make a move before he came in his boxers right there!

“Fuck…I need you. Need this pussy so bad, baby.” Practically desperate for you. By this time, you had begun working to free his hard cock from its confines and once you did so, he’d immediately spring into your closed palm. He’d ever so slightly fuck your fist and moan out as he continued working you over. Meanwhile, you were still vehemently making out with one another. You’d all but beg him to put it inside of you and it wasn’t a full minute later before his tip was prodding through your entrance and you both came undone. Releasing simultaneous expletives as he split you open and filled you halfway.

“Oh my gosh!… ‘s so fucking big..”

“That’s not even all of it. You can take it f’r me, can’t you?”

smirking as he wasted no time in bucking his hips forward and feeding you deep strokes. They were a little slow at first but you could feel each one. Every bump, every curve and inch of that lengthy shaft. The way it curved up into you and pressed that spot on impact..you were losing it. Placing a hand around the back of your neck to keep your head straight and your leg atop his shoulder, Eren would increase his pace and really give you what you needed! “You can take this dick for daddy, can’t you, baby?” Grunting against your lips. Smacking sounds erupting across the suite from your skin as your lower halves collided. It didn’t take long before a silky sheath of your juices were formed and coating your flesh. The two of you would last no time from all the pent up sexual frustration and emotions.

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me…right there..”

increasing his pace and you’d follow suit by stroking your clit. He was unhinged..unable to contain himself inside of you. Eren clutched your ankle and laced your calf with sweet, tender kisses as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. “Shit..you gonna come for me already, baby..you’re squeezing me so tight.” Taunting you with that high lilt in his voice, not breaking eye contact once. To say you were a trembling mess at this point was an absolute understatement..cream dripping all down his shaft and onto the countertop as your clit pulsates with each thrust. You couldn’t take another moment and the day had only begun. Less known the entire week!…but you loved it. You loved pleasing your man and giving him everything his heart and body desired. And despite how intense it felt at the moment, you craved this just as badly. You both needed this release.

“Mmmph! You fucking me so good, daddy…’s just too much..”

“Don’t tease me now…you were talking all that shit on the plane, saying you needed this dick every day…you sure you can handle it?…‘cause I’mma stretch this shit out. Tryna’ get you pregnant, baby.” The sheer thought of him breeding you gets you aroused all over again. Even if it was an empty promise in the throes of mid-lust excitement. Regardless, he’d keep pounding at a steady pace until he felt you twitching and clutching once more until you were about to come undone. That’s when he’d speed up, angling himself until that tip was poking directly at your overstimulated core. “So tell me I can have it. You know I’m selfish, princess…I always get my way.” Mocking you once more with his tongue wagging, chuckling and with a thumb on your clit. Rubbing slow circles until you were gripping the counter top. Tits swaying with the fierce bouncing of your frames. Even the tears streaming down your face couldn’t sate his desire to make you climax right now. He knew you were feeling equally as overstimulated and was ready to push you over the edge. Suddenly, your husband would lean forward and curl his face into the crook of your neck.

“Come in me, daddy!..nnngh..”

“Oh God, baby. Can I please? Can I put a baby in it?..”

panting as he bared his weight onto the countertop. His pace reached its peak and before long, you both reached the finish that you had sought after.

“ ‘rennnnn! Fuck…please..” your nails clawed deep into his back, holding him close to your chest as he pumped every last ounce of his seed into that inviting womb. Just one of many on this island excursion. He didn’t let up until he was certain that you were good and stuffed but whimpered and cried to your name the entire time. It was absolute bliss, a sensation and feeling like none other and he couldn’t wait to experience more like it.

“Kiss me…” cupping your face into his palms, Eren let your tongues clash in a heated haze…moaning and whispering ‘I love you’s’ the entire time. Never had he dreamed of starting his mornings like this. Warm weather with a chill breeze sweeping through the open windows, ocean waves crashing against the tan shorelines, palm trees swaying in a calmed motion and most importantly…giving into his desires with the love of his life . The type of view that made you never want to go back to reality!…but for right now, you’d enjoy this world, this haven…

“Oh my God, that was perfect.”

“Yes…I needed that so badly. Thank you, princess..”

“Mmm, no..thank you. So…you ready to start your vacation now?”

“I can do anything after that..got me feeling the best I have in a long time…”

and no matter where you were in the world, as long as you were together, it was paradise!

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ellatoone7 · 2 months

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❄︎ Trust in me ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

Emilia has some concerns over her future

Emilia had known for a while that maybe football wasn’t her life. From her very first session when she was a lot younger, she always had more of a fascination with picking flowers and making daisy chains or doing cartwheels across the field instead of kicking the ball. She had started gymnastics a few years ago and had taken a very keen liking to it.

However, as she got older, she wanted to prioritise gymnastics, but the guilt of quitting football was slowly creeping up on her. It didn’t help that her older sister absolutely thrived on the football field, Emilia couldn’t help but notice how her Mami’s eyes absolutely lit up with pride as she watched Issy playing football. The last thing Emilia wanted was to disappoint her Mami. Her Mami, who went above and beyond for her and always showed up no matter what. Her Mami, who had won so many different awards for just how good she was at playing football. Her Mami, who always made her feel safe and so incredibly loved.

Emilia was always encouraged to communicate her feelings to her parents, something that was instilled into her since she was much younger. Now she was eight years old and for the first time ever she was a little bit scared to talk to her Mami. Emilia had been working up the courage to tell her Mami that she didn’t want to play football anymore, but it just so happened that Isabella had won a very important match and Mami was bringing them to get ice cream to celebrate. Mami was smiling so big, and Emilia didn’t want to be the reason her Mami got upset.

It didn’t take a lot for Alexia to notice something was wrong with Emilia. The normally animated girl was unusually quiet as she shovelled some ice cream into her mouth. Isabella was on cloud nine as she conversed with her Mami on the tactics of the game and whether they should stick or change it up slightly. “…Tal vez deberíamos poner a Lola en la delantera el próximo Partido.” Emilia’s head dropped even lower as she listened to her Mami and sister converse. Alexia got increasingly more worried as it had been at least an hour with complete radio silence from Emilia. They were on their way home now, all packed into Alexia’s Cupra as she turned the volume of Rosalia’s new song down a little.

Isabella was still mumbling away happily as she brushes a little bit of grass off her kit. Emilia was staring at her older sister, Mr Biggy clutched in her arms and Alexia thought that maybe Emilia was a little jealous over her sisters win. Completely misinterpreting the situation Alexia looks through the mirror with a small smile, “Hey Meels, you have a big match coming up too. I can’t wait to come watch you play.” Emilia’s heart clenched in her chest at the hopeful look in her Mami’s eyes and she forced a tight smile and a nod which seemed to placate an oblivious Alexia who had made the situation much worse.

Isabella smiled softly at her younger sister, “Meels, you can wear my green boots, the ones that you loved.” Emilia once again nodded before curling in on herself that little bit more. Emilia decides then and there that she wasn’t going to be selfish and just work harder at football. She didn’t want to make Isabella or Mami upset and maybe she would enjoy it. She loved watching Mami play when she used to play for Barcelona, and she loves going to Isabella’s games.

Emilia’s mind raced with all her favourite people and most of them played football, all her Tia’s who raised her on a football field, and she was now just throwing it away. Before Emilia knew it her eyes were filling with tears as she tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. The blonde tried to breath and calm herself down, but she was all worked up now and she wanted some comfort from her Mami while she still could. “Mami, No me siento bien.” She sniffled as the tears started falling down her flushed cheeks. Alexia quickly found somewhere to poll over so she could give her daughter her full attention.

Alexia unbuckled her seat belt and turned her body around to make sure Emilia hadn’t gotten sick. She was in full Mami mode, and it felt like her heart stopped beating as Emilia cried. Isabella held her little sisters’ hand with her own frown of concern and started gently rubbing her back in hopes to provide some comfort. “¿Qué pasa nena?” Alexia questioned as Emilia struggled to catch her breath until eventually, she reached out just like she used to when she was a little bit younger. Before she knew it her car door was open, and she was in her Mami’s arms. She buried her face into her Mami’s neck as she whimpered softly, clinging into her jumper as her Mami sways her gently.

Alexia was distraught as she tried to calm her daughter who she hadn’t seen this upset in a very long time. Alexia wished you were here in hopes of getting Emilia to open up, but Daniela was way too little to leave the house yet, so you stayed at home with Val. Emilia whimpered again and Alexia needed to get her home and hold her until all her hurt went away. Isabella had also got out of the car to wrap her arms around both girls. “¿Se siente mal?” Emilia had a history of motion sickness and still had trouble with long car journeys, but she had never cried like this. The only response she got was a shrug as she sniffled softly, “Vale, mi princesa, we are nearly home just a few more minutes.”

Alexia felt as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest as Emilia cried for her the minutes she put her back into her seat. Isabella tried to be a replacement, but Emilia wanted her Mami. Emilia was sobbing now completely overwhelmed by her big emotions as she squirmed in her seatbelt, whining for her Mami as she got into the front seat. Alexia tore of her jumper in hopes to calm Emilia down with her familiar smell, Isabella held it close to her sister as she gently stroked her hair. Not even Mr Biggy was comforting Emilia and she hated hat she couldn’t stop crying.

Alexia had to drive slowly as her hands had started to shake slightly and she would never put her girls in risk. Alexia didn’t stop talking the whole way home, eyes frantically checking her mirror every time Emilia cried out her name. “Mami! I need you!” Isabella cooed pressing kisses to Emilia’s temple as Alexia pulled into your driveway. Alexia’s heart was absolutely shattered, her baby needed her and nothing in the world mattered more than getting her into her arms.

“Estoy aquí mi bebé, estás a salvo. Estamos en casa y te tengo siempre mi princesa.” Isabella ran into the house bringing Alexia’s jumper and Mr Biggy as she made sure Emilia’s bed was nice a cozy. “Hey, Is, You’re home how did you get…?” You immediately noticed something was wrong when Isabella didn’t stop fidgeting with Emilia’s bed. “What’s wrong Issy?” You gently asked as you grabbed her hands, “Something’s wrong with Emilia Mama.” Isabella fell into you as she yearned for her own comfort, your mind raced with endless possibilities, but you remained calm and held your eldest close. “She wouldn’t stop crying and calling for Mami.” You shushed her gently as you focused on making her feel better.

You slowly kneeled, still a bit sore from just giving birth a few weeks ago. ‘Look at me Issy, everything’s okay. Mami has Emilia and we will find out what’s wrong, there is nothing to worry about okay.” You felt Isabella relax in your hold as you placed kisses against her cheek, “You are the best big sister ever and I love you very much.” Isabella smiled feeling a lot better now that her thoughts had been reassured. With one last kiss and a promise to let her stay up a bit later tonight, Isabella was guided to go have a shower after her game.

The minute you caught eyes with your wife you knew something was very wrong. Emilia had Alexia’s shirt in such a tight grip that you were worried her little hand was going to cramp. Alexia was walking slowly into the house as Emilia cried softly into her neck, you approached at the same pace, gently stroking her blonde hair and coaxing her out of her Mami’s shoulder. Emilia whimpered at the interruption but when she saw it was you, she cried out your name, your wife gently passed her on to you. She didn’t go far as her arms slithered around you and pulled you both into her body.

You took some time to cradle Alexia’s head and press kisses to her temple, she looked heartbroken as she leaned further into you. “It’s all okay, we are right here Meelie. What hurts baby?” Emilia shakes her head as she looks around wildly, eyes swollen and red. “Do you want to go lie down?” Emilia nodded softly as you readjusted her with a slight wince. Alexia was on full alert mode and her hands hovered your body as you placed a reassuring kiss to her lips. “Can you check on Dani, I put her down about twenty minutes ago?” Alexia nodded as she sighed softly, “Everything is going to be fine Alé.” Alexia kisses you again and coaxes Emilia out of your neck so she could give her the most loving kiss as she smoothed out her hair. “Te amo tanto mi princesa, eres mi todo.”

To her relief Emilia smiled softly and kissed her Mami’s cheek. “I love you too.” It was sniffled but it brought some much-needed relief into the heart of the former athlete. You brought her up to the safety of her room before quickly cuddling up with her, Mr Biggy found refuge in her arms, and you helped her put on her Mami’s jumper. She had calmed down significantly as she grew tired from crying, now she just wanted to talk to her Mama about the situation. “What happened sweetheart?” You noticed her looking at you intently which normally meant she had something on her mind.

“I’m scared.” Her small voice rang out as she cuddled closer to you. “Why are you scared Meels?” You guided her, knowing that she was ready to talk now. Emilia pouted as her eyes filled with tears again and you shushed her gently, rubbing her back until she calmed down. “You can tell me and Mami anything, you know that my baby.” Emilia nodded as her eyes shined from her tears. Her small fingers wrapped around Mr Biggy’s ear as she mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You pulled her impossibly closer, offering your left hand so she could play with your wedding ring something she always used to calm herself down. “I didn’t hear that Meels.” You gently told her as she took a deep breath.

“I don’t…want to play…football anymore.” She stuttered as the words tumbled out; you could see the tension leave her body as she finally told you, her problem. You were incredibly relieved that this is all it was, but you knew exactly what the problem was and why Emilia wanted her Mami so bad in the car. “Meels I know, your gymnastics is starting to clash with it. Mami had been talking to your football coach to prepare them for your leave.” Emilia sat up slowly as she processed the information she was just given. “Mami won’t be upset.” You giggle softly at the pout on her face, “Meels, Mami is going to be so relieved when she hears that this is why you were crying.” Emilia perked up, “Really? Promise?” You held out your pink as she beamed brightly, “Pinky promise.”

You kissed her head, “Your Mami loves you so much not just for the things you do but for being you. Do you want to know a secret?” Emilia nodded with a curious head tilt, “Mami was the one who suggested you do Gymnastics when she saw your cartwheels.” Emilia nearly burst with joy as she clung onto you tightly. “I am so proud of you for telling me. Did you get very overwhelmed?” You asked trying to figure out how her emotions might have taken over so you can be more prepared next time.

“My thoughts made me worried. I didn’t want to upset Isabella or my Tia’s.” You kissed her again, as she cuddled Mr Biggy. “Your Tia’s love you so much Meels and Isabella will be delighted she gets to keep the goals all to herself.” Emilia giggled as you tickled her, “I want Mami.” You nodded knowing that your wife wanted Emilia right now too. It was as if Alexia knew her daughter was looking for her as there was a soft knock at the door. Alexia had calmed down a little bit now that she was home with her family, Daniela was so tiny, and Alexia softly rocked her as she snoozed. Alexia would be lying if she didn’t say she was walking considerably slower past Emilia’s door, but it was worth it when she heard her favourite sound, Emilia’s giggle.

Emilia lit up at the sight of her and Alexia had to stop herself from running to the other side of the room to get to her. Alexia got under the covers as Emilia fell into her. Your eyes told Alexia all she needed to know; it wasn’t anything horrific. You let them have their cuddle before encouraging Emilia to tell your wife what was wrong. Emilia settled on top of her Mami before locking her fingers with hers, “Mami I don’t want to play football anymore.” There was no shift in Alexia’s smile as she stared up adoringly at her daughter, she sat up and cupped her face. “Te amo mucho mi princesa. I don’t care what you do as long as you are happy.”

Emilia smiles happily as she rests against her Mami’s chest. “You have a gymnastic competition next week and all you Tia’s want to come. Is that okay?” Emilia nodded tiredly as she cuddled Mr Biggy, “I would love that.” Alexia kissed her hair softly before lying down and bringing her to her chest. “I’m going to stay with her for a bit.” You nodded softly as you leaned down to kiss her. “You are the greatest mother Alexia Putellas, never forget that.”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia's favourite girls

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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

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feyascorner · 4 months

Note

So might have noticed i have read all your fics and I absolutely love them all!

If your open to taking this request for a fic, i would love like 4 times astarion was jealous and 1 time you were! (I dont know if your familiar with the prompt). Tav sleeping with someone before they get together (act 1) he’s catching feelings! After relationship is established: Act 2 Halsin showing his interest (whether its reciprocated is up to you!). Act3 Shar’s caress, the owner talking about Tav’s interest and drow twins!

Finally, Tav being jealous! Astarion fully enjoying it!

Or just anything with jealous astarion i would LIVE for! Love your work either way 😆

a/n. THEYRE SO CUTE IM IN TEARS I LOVE JEALOUS ASTARION/TAV

also this is not proofread unfortunately, and I'm not 100% if i did this right but we rock and roll!!!1

As much as Astarion boasts (and resents) his familiarity with seduction, you're an anomaly he's yet to understand despite his centuries of experience.

Never once in his courtship, even when he'd been alive, had he felt so tested that he was jealous, over someone. Not really, anyway. Sure there were bits of bitter feelings here and there, but most were trivial and about something involved in the relationship, not the person themselves.

He's counted four times since the two of you met, where he had to resort to his better judgment to avoid resorting to pettiness. The first one, was out of necessity--so much so that he didn't even realize what it was at first.

He had watched you snuggle up to Shadowheart of all people, just when he thought he'd finally manipulated enough to have you wrapped around his finger. Instead, he had to hear you laugh as you let the cleric lead you to a nearby lake, making him question if somehow, he'd gotten rusty. Especially when the rival in question was clearly too busy having a religious crisis to properly court you. Sure, you technically didn't belong to him, nor did he belong to you at the time, but he went to sleep feeling oddly irritated. He made sure to flirt with you even more, apparently, the next morning.

The second time, he had accepted the strange feeling in his chest whenever he saw you. And Gods he should have done it earlier. He made sure to show plenty of public affection, kissing your cheek or hand randomly as you and your companions explored the shadow-cursed lands. He got a mouthful from Lae'zel a few times, but he couldn't care less. And just when he believed he'd eliminated any potential rivals, the damned druid suggested that you had feelings for him. Here, he felt that same churning feeling he had weeks ago at camp, and found it was one that he didn't long for. He wouldn't have blamed you if you'd considered it--especially since the two of you stopped being physically intimate after his confession. But he could deny how much he hated this feeling. Pretending he hadn't heard, waited for you to approach him that night. When you reassured him you'd said no, he could breathe again.

The last time was weeks later, at Sharess' Caress, where the two of you were approached by the drow twins. And when he'd confessed he wasn't ready to become intimate again, as much as it scared him, you only smiled at him and nodded. That cursed warmth he felt from such a simple act of kindness would follow him to the end of his days. But he hadn't had enough time to revel in it, because the drow twins assured you only you would be enough, even if he wasn't a part of it. The moment you refused, he was already dragging you out of the room, cursing the twins under his breath.

But for the first time, he thinks you're the one experiencing that dreadful feeling of insecurity.

"Your measurements are perfect for this new selection that just came in! Here, let me just check if the rest would fit."

He'd thought little of the harmless touches of the tailor, but as he notices your expression through the reflection of one of the mirrors, he thinks differently. Your lips are pursed, eyes following the tailor's movements like a hawk as you tighten the arms crossed over your chest. Astarion himself is no stranger to touch, especially to innocent ones like this, but if your body language means anything, the sentiments are not mutual.

The tailor reaches up to measure his arm span, inevitably bring their face a little to close to his neck. He just tilts away, nodding mindlessly at what the tailor is saying, but his attention is fully on you. You're fidgeting, and your anxiousness is impossibly obvious to him, but the more mischievous part of him stops him from doing anything about it. Instead, he revels in it.

"Did you get my inside leg?" he asks the tailor, grinning widely. "I think you might have to redo it. I was leaning a bit."

The tailor agrees though all he sees is a nod of a head and a voice in his ear going right through the other. He observes as your face falls, and just as the tailor crouches down and leans close, you're immediately across the room at record-speed, hand latching over the tailor's wrist.

Astarion barely manages to hold in his laugh. His smile, however, is another story.

"I'll do it," you mumble to the tailor. They look to you and back up to Astarion before seemingly realizing what's going on, nodding.

"Very well."

He never thought you could look even more alluring than he already finds you, but the way your jaw clenches and your brows furrow makes him think otherwise. You lean down and take the measurements as needed, stomping on his foot in the process.

He snorts.

Once the tailor leaves for the stock room, he finds you sighing. "You did that on purpose."

It's not a question. He laughs, and while he could just apologize, he takes your hand in his, tilting your head with the other so you'd look at him. He might even consider the glare you give him as cute.

"Jealous, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I was starting to think you weren't capable of jealousy."

"Why not?" you say, feeling his thumb rubs the top of your hand. "I've been plenty jealous before."

At this, he raises a brow. "I'd surely remember that."

"When we first met," you recall. "You flirted with practically everyone in camp. Saying you wanted to drink from Wyll, or something like that."

"You must know that I was--"

"I know what it was," you roll your eyes. "Not at the time though, and I thought you'd lost interest in me."

His jaw falls agape. "You're jesting."

"Why do you think I started flirting with other people? I figured you didn't like me as much as I liked you, so I moved on. Tried, at least."

"Is that what your visits to Shadowheart were?"

You scrunch your nose. "Oh Gods, I forgot about that. I'd rather not remember sleeping with one of my closest friends, thanks."

He can't help the grin stretching on his lips, and you notice, feeling yourself smile with him. "You're enjoying this far too much, Astarion."

"Please, tell me the next time you're jealous, so I'll know to keep an eye on you."

"Don't ask such ridiculous things," you retort, feigning annoyance before lifting his palm to your cheek and pressing a kiss to it. He swears his undead heart might've felt it. And just like that, the tailor returns, and you drop your intertwined hands, and he sees you shoot him a warning glare.

Acknowledging he's had enough fun teasing you today, he shrugs, and when the tailor begins showing him an array of outfits, he's not listening. Instead, he toys with the ring behind his back, making sure to commit your expression to his memory.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: established relationship, Eddie is an emotionally constipated lil guy who's scared of his own feelings, adorable nervous energy, so much fluff its gross

AN: BRUV i wrote this in about a half hour ago and now its up and i BARELY edited this so please be gentle! I love you guys, have the best weekend!

I can’t fucking say it.

Eddie has been pacing back and forth in his room for the past 45 fucking minutes.

He’s tried saying it looking in the mirror, looking at his feet, hell, he even tried staring out the fucking window.

Nothing.

He can think it—that’s the easy part. Those three little words play in his head like a god damned broken record.

When he’s not around you, he’s thinking it. When he’s just left you, or on his way to you, he can feel it on the tip of his tongue.

Oh, but when he’s with you? It’s like a big flashing neon fucking sign buzzing in his brain:

EDDIE MUNSON LOVES HIS GIRL.

It should be easy, no? To look you into your dreamy eyes and tell you.

Let’s try this again.

Eddie bounced back and forth on each foot, shaking the nerves from his hands. “C’mon, Munson. Don’t be a chicken shit…”

He let out a few quick breaths. “Okay, okay…”

Eddie’s brain is screaming at him. Telling him to say the fucking words he’s been thinking and feeling for the past 4 months.

Really the past 3 years he’s knowns you, but that’s neither here nor there.

He feels out of breath just sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“I can’t fucking say it, holy hell.” Eddie scrubs his face, feeling like a complete coward.

Always running from what scares him.

He heard the door of the trailer open, and the familiar chime of your keychain follow.

“Eds? I’m back! and I got you a surprise!”

Whatever nerves he was feeling vanished. You’re the most calming presence Eddie’s ever met. Like…a warm blanket. A cup of tea on a rainy day. Lover's lake, right as the sun was starting to rise.

Magical. Healing. Golden.

You were everything to him, and he couldn’t even fucking tell you.

“Babe?” You called again, looking for him.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, in here, sweetheart.” He stands quickly. Drying his sweaty palms on his pants.

You round the corner into his room, and Eddie swears you get more beautiful every time he sees you. You smile at him, “Hey, handsome.”

“There’s my pretty girl.” He says without a second thought. “You and Buckley have fun at the mall?”

Eddie pulls you into him completely, and you melt. He’s so sturdy and strong but so, so gentle with you. You inhale him, he inhales you.

Home.

“I did, Robin keeps me from flying too close to the sun,” you laugh. “I did, however, get you a little something.”

Eddie pulls back, looking at you. “What? Why?”

You’re beaming up at him, “‘Cause I love you, ya silly goose.” You bend down, and grab the bag at your feet. “Here, opening it!”

Eddie doesn’t even have time to process how easily you’d say it.

You’ve never once pressured him—never made a big thing about saying it. It came with no strings when you said it the first time.

You’d spent the day with him, doing nothing particularly important. These were Eddie’s favorite. It’s just him and his girl, no sharing you with Robin or Dustin or any of those other gremlins.

You had an early shift the next day, so you kissed him goodbye, and grabbed your bag. Eddie kissed you once for every step you took toward the door.

“Baby, nooooo,” he whined. “I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart. No funny business, scouts honor.”

You laughed, “Oh, you were Boy Scout?”

Eddie shifted his feet, “I could’ve been.”

You kissed him deeply at the front door, “I’ll be back before you know it."

“Fine, fine,” he said dramatically. “I’ll just be here…alone…wallowing in my sorrows.” Eddie flopped back and fell backwards over the couch.

Your giggle echoed off the walls of the trailer. “I love you! I’ll see you in the morning!”

The door shut behind you, and Eddie shot up like a rocket, and stiff as a board.

You love him.

You said you loved him.

And he didn’t say it back.

It’s haunted him since.

Eddie took the bag from your hands, and pulled you gently to follow him. You sat down together on the edge of his bed.

You spoke to him as he opened it, “Okay, if you don’t like them, just be nice because it took me 40 minutes to decide between two sets and this one spoke to me and I wanted—“

“Honey, honey.” Eddie chuckled. “Take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s perfect." He tapped your nose gently, "‘Cause it’s from you.”

Eddie unwrapped the tissue paper, revealing a black acrylic case. He removed the lid, and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Holy shit, baby.”

Inside the case, was a brand new set of black onyx and ruby red DND dice.

“You like ‘em? Robin almost left me in the store because I just couldn’t decide—“

Eddie put the dice down quickly, grabbed your cheek, and kissed you tenderly.

He brought his other hand to your face as well, cupping it gently as his mouth moved over yours

When he was done with your mouth, Eddie kissed your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, your chin, any part of you he deemed not smothered in affection enough.

His lips had barely left your skin before he spoke, “I love you. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Your smile—it could light up the whole town.

“Y-Yeah?” You asked hopefully, “You do?”

Eddie nodded, his hair tickling you cheeks. “I really, really do, baby. I love you. Thank you for thinking of me. For taking the time to do something that I never woulda done for myself. Thank you for just…” Eddie sighed, kissing your forehead. “Just for being mine. Christ, I’m so lucky.”

It wasn't about the gift.

Eddie had it all when he had you, and now he's going to make sure you know it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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bettymylove · 4 months

Note

hello, can you maybe do a one-shot of theo comforting y/n bcs she's been feeling insecure with her 2a + 2b hair😓 ( speaking from experience )

Date not so ruined

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: reader is feeling insecure about her hair and theo makes her feel better.

a/n: you're beautiful, hope this helped<33

It was date night, one which rarely occurred due to the burden both you and your boyfriend, Theo faced. Tonight was one of those nights when he would take you to a fancy restaurant and shower you with love.

You had started getting ready a while ago, thinking to yourself it wouldn't take long, but boy were you wrong.

It was your hair, aside from the fact that it was not the stereotypical perfect hair, it just wouldn't cooperate tonight. You had tried all the tips and tricks, your friends told you about to keep it from puffing up, but alas none worked.

You tried putting it in a bun, but the flyaways wouldn't settle, you tried keeping it open and that didn't work either, there must have been a hundred products you used and it still didn't do anything.

You wished your hair was normal, like all the other girls you saw on the daily, you looked yourself in the mirror and tears started to erupt from your eyes, travelling all the way down your cheek.

You would hate for Theo to see you like this, he would realize he could do so much better, he could have anyone else and she wasn't ready for him to leave her.

Theo's foot was bouncing up and down in the common room, he had been waiting for you for the past half an hour and was surprised to not find you there when he himself was a few minutes late.

He decided to go into your dorm and ask you rather than lose his mind trying to figure out what went wrong, he picked up the flowers he had bought for you from the table and headed straight to your dorm.

A slight knock on your door startled you, you knew who it was. You looked in the mirror again, this time not only the hair was bothering you but your eyes had swelled up as well.

Another sniffle escaped you and the voice you had grown to love asked you from across the door, "Are you crying, y/n?"

You cleared your throat, scared to be found crying over something this silly, you thought for sure he would think you were crazy, "No" you replied, and your voice cracked and you winced at it.

"Yes you are, I'm coming in, darling" Oh dear god, this was it, more tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

He was beyond panicked now. His girl was crying, and he would kill whoever made that happen.

The first thing you noticed when Theo entered your room were the flowers in his hand, your favorite, more tears spilled from your eyes, he was too good for you.

He kept the flowers down on your bedside table and sat beside you taking your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, but your turned your face away, "What happened, baby?" his hand tried to maneuver your face towards him.

"My hair, it's-," You wiped some of the tears from your face. "I don't feel pretty, Theo"

Theo sighed. He knew how insecure you were about your hair and how much it bothered you, he wanted to comfort you, wanted to tell you how you were the most beautiful person he's ever met.

He pulled on your hand, making you stand up, tugging you along to the other side of the room where your mirror was.

"You can't see how pretty you are l, but I can. I love your hair, how dare you say they aren't perfect." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "These eyes, god I could be lost in them all day, tears shouldn't be there"

He kissed all of your tear stains, one by one. "These hands, your pretty hands" he held one up, "I could kiss them all day" and he did.

You were laughing now, albeit lightly, but you were still laughing and his eyes glinted at the sound.

"Most importantly, your heart, which loves me and I thank god every day for it" Finally he kissed your lips, tasting the salt from your tears and the cherry from your lipgloss, you kissed him back, wondering what did you do to deserve him.

"Oh, and," His hand travelled to his hair, which was neatly gelled and he ran his hand through making it messy and letting it stick out in all directions. "Perfect, isn't it?"

You smiled at him, kissed his cheek while telling him you love him, and he said it back, he always did. Taking his hand in yours, you went out of the room, ready for your date.

#slytherin #draco malfoy #harry potter #theo nott #enzo berkshire #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott one shot #chitafluff

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #new years eve #new years kiss #getting together #first kiss #friends to lovers #they’re so stupid your honor #spoiler alert I yearn so hard on New Year’s Eve and for NOTHING #so I’m in my feelings and I’m gonna make it everyone’s problem

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tangyangie · 11 months

Text

— 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ⊹

characters. albedo, budo masuta, ganyu, kusuo saiki, neito monoma, raibaru fumetsu, teruko tawaki, + wanderer/scaramouche

desc. how some of my favorite characters would react to you wiping away their kiss for a prank!!!

notes. i love this idea so much and i want to try it out (if i actually had a life)

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 ⊹

we already know that albedo is a little bit of a tease. although he may not show it in his face.

he'd probably catch on as soon as you try anything. which is why you need to do this when he's tired. after he's done a lengthy experiment is the perfect time to try this out.

he comes back home to you, waiting for see your face. that's all he really cares about right now. you peek from your room, seeing his face down the hallway. you smile and speed towards him, throwing yourself onto him while giving him a big hug.

"hi, 'bedo. how was your day?" you ask, seemingly innocent.

"it was alright," he sighed, quickly pressing a small kiss on your temple as he walked to put his things down. he looks up in the mirror to see you wiping his kiss away.

he definitely was not expecting that, especially after you almost tackled him from running so quickly down the hallway. there's a few possibilities he'd think might be the reason for this.

— you're mad at him because he did something.

— you're mad because someone else did something and you're taking it out on his kisses.

— no one directly did anything, so you're mad at everyone.

— this is a prank.

and, from the way you turned to look at him and immediately snapped your head back when you made eye contact (don't think that he didn't see your smile), he figured it was the last one.

but he was definitely feeling a little scared at first. he thought he did something wrong and couldn't tell. he just looked at your with his signature blank expression with a slight smirk.

"what are you doing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"hmm?" you slowly turn around, doing your best to hide your smile. although you're doing it quite well, albedo notices everything.

you barely notice as he grabs your hands quickly, before placing a kiss in the exact same spot as earlier. he holds your hands firmly, not allowing you to move them.

you decide to take it a step further. you nuzzle into his neck as if you're giving him a hug, and wipe the kiss yet again, using albedo instead of your hand. he doesn't know how much more obvious you could make it that this is a prank.

as soon as you look back up again, you are attacked by a kiss. with absolutely no warning. he gives you no time to react, therefore leaving you with no time and no way to remove the kiss.

"it was a nice try," albedo says. "maybe, next time—you don't make it so easy for me to understand."

you glance at the teasing look he has on his face. it's amazing what little variety his facial expressions have, yet you can still tell what they are.

"that's not fair, 'bedo." you sigh.

he chuckles lightly before kissing you once again.

𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐓𝐀 ⊹

he's the sweetest boy. there's no need to do this to him.

oh, but how you love to torture him. he puts up with it, so there's no harm. he understands it's all playful.

he loves giving you kisses. just passing by you in the halls, meeting up in his clubroom for lunch, seeing each other after school... none of them are complete without at least a quick smoochie.

so, of course, you try and prank him.

you're walking around the school after your last period, and you're calmly walking when you get the idea. he's already got an arm around you, so it's inevitable that he'll lean in to try and land a kiss on your cheek.

you know him so well. he does the exact action mere seconds later. you don't even spare him a glance as you wipe it away, but you give him a quick giggle.

he stops dead in his tracks. "did—did you just..?"

"did i just what?" you say, turning around, with a confused expression plastered onto your face.

he's just thinking what he possibly did wrong.

'is it because i didn't give them any of my lunch??'

'or, maybe i said something and didn't notice!!'

he's lost in his own thoughts. his hand is on his chin, and he's looking down to the ground, going through the entire day in his head.

you kind of just stand there... waiting to see if he'll realize. but, he's completely out. he can't hear you whisper his name to get him out of the trance.

"budo..!"

you wave your hands, but not even motion is getting him out.

you give in, officially throwing in the towel in terms of carrying out the prank.

you throw your arms around him and press a long, sweet kiss to his lips.

"sorry, budo. i was only playing." you smile, placing another one directly on his forehead.

he blinks a couple times before sighing in relief, taking your face in his hands before kissing you again.

"don't do that, y/n. i thought i was going to drop dead right there." he sighs before laughing, his hand on his forehead.

"i'll drop dead before i actually wipe your kisses." you grin, reassuring him with a big hug.

𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐔 ⊹

she will definitely react the most out of them all.

she's already nervous about everything, no need to make her self-conscious about her kisses!!

yet, somehow, you thought that pranking her would be a good idea.

you're both sitting on one of the cliffs in liyue. you're smelling the clouds through your nose, as you lay your head on ganyu's shoulder.

she's already partially asleep, but she wakes herself up enough to give you a kiss to your temple. you, with a sly smirk, then brush the kiss away.

she doesn't believe her eyes, at first. after that, she goes into full panic mode.

her eyes are wide open as she stares off into space. she is going insane in her head.

'nooo. no. did i do something?? do they hate me?? am i a failure???'

her hands move to rest on her cheeks on the sides of her face. hee face is slightly turning pink at how much she's embarrassed.

'is it my breath?? should i have eaten sweet flowers instead of qingxins this morning?? i knew they were too bitter..'

you can literally see the steam coming out of her ears. putting her through any more of this would literally be a form of torture.

you gently turn to grab her hands. you hold them in yours and bring them down, encouraging ganyu to look you in the eyes. you whisper an apology as you press a kiss to her nose.

she honestly looks relieved just to see that you don't hate her.

"i was pranking you, ganyu. 'm sorry.." you sigh, bringing her in closer for another kiss.

she nods and strokes your hair, smiling at you. "that's alright, y/n."

you slightly back up and motion to your lap. you gently pull her down so that her head is laying in your lap, soothing her mind as you place another kiss on the top of her head.

𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐈 ⊹

he's wearing his germanium ring. it's time to strike.

you couldn't help but notice saiki seeming a little more at peace than normal. if you could consider his normal at peace.

of course, it's all due to the thought-cancelling ring. so, you took the opportunity to finally be able to do something without him catching on.

you crept up next to him, snuggling your head into his neck. he'd never been one for physical affection, but this was the only way to coerce him into giving you a kiss without explicitly saying it. and he was smart enough to figure out what you if you would've told him.

he opened an eye to see you, and then lightly pecked you on the cheek before returning to his activity... whatever it was.

you casually wiped the kiss off, slightly turning your head to make sure saiki saw. he definitely did.

his eyes intensify as he stares at you with an extremely surprised expression.

"hello. i go out of my way to kiss you, something you're always begging me to do, and you wipe it off?"

you raise your eyebrows at his immediate reaction.

"what are you talking about?" you ask, trying your best to appear clueless.

his face looks a little gloomier now. he sighs and turns away.

you smile at the reaction, but feel a little bad. so, you crawl over to him and give him a small kiss on the lips.

"sorry, i thought it would be funny." you whisper, smiling softly. he grumbled something under his breath and pulled you in for another kiss.

"it wasn't. if you do it again, i'm sending you to point nemo."

𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐀 ⊹

you were finally settling down after a long day of training. stretching your back and reaching your arms until you felt relief, you twirled into your bed, directly into neito's arms.

"hm? did someone miss me?" he smiles, beaming at you. "of course you'd love me. i'm much better than everyone in that stupid class 1-a. i'm sure you were dying to see me."

"and just when i thought i could get some peace..." you groan dramatically, turning towards his chest.

"it's your fault for being in class 1-a, you should ask for a transfer to class 1-b!! you'd fit in a lot better than with those losers!!" he laughs, tapping you on the nose.

"neito..." you say, with a warning tone to your voice.

"sorry, sorry," he smiles, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to your lips. poor boy, he had no idea what you were planning. he'd fallen right into your trap.

with a seemingly straight face, you wipe the kiss with the back of your hand, dragging it out as long as possible without making it obvious that you were playing with him.

"excuse me??" he gasps, raising his eyebrows and lowering his jaw. the look on his face was comical. "what was that?"

"what was what?" you say, still able to keep your smile contained. "i didn't do anything."

"did... did you really care that much about what i said about your classmates??" he had a whiny look on his face.

you let out a small laugh, but it sounded like more of a 'pfft' than a 'HAHAH'. you bit your lip in hopes of preventing the rest of it from escaping, but you'd already failed.

"ha ha ha, you're so funny. keep my kisses." he says with a squint, applying several more kisses to your face, moving at a quick enough pace that you were unable to block him.

"ahh!!! neito!!!" you squeal, fanning your hands at his face in an attempt of getting him to relieve your face.

he'd already gotten you immobile as he plastered dozens more of kisses onto your face. your face felt breezy by the time he was done, letting you know that no part of your face had been left unkissed.

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐔 𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔 ⊹

she notices everything. if she can sense someone 5 feet away with a knife, she will definitely notice your little trick.

but that fact doesn't stop you from trying.

you're sitting at the school fountain with her, eating lunch. she feeds you a dumpling as you thank her with a mumble, covering your mouth.

she chuckles and kisses your cheek, and that's the moment of action. you dramatically drag your hand across the side of your face, causing her to turn her head towards you.

her eyes are open wide, but she doesn't look sad. simply surprised. "y/n? what'd you do that for? did you not like the dumpling?" she asks, looking towards her food.

you shake your head and shrug. "the dumpling was really good... what are you talking about?" she notices the trace of a smile on your lips, and then her face returns to normal.

she sighs with a laughing smile on her face. "y/n, was that really just a prank??"

"what? was what a prank? i don't know what you're referring to." you look away, kicking your legs as a distraction.

"hello? the kiss!" she giggles, setting her lunch beside her. "why'd you wipe it away?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, rai." you sigh, straightening your posture. you're just totally telling the truth.

she doesn't think you're this clueless. she quickly leans in and sticks another kiss on your cheek. you reach to get rid of it once more, but she catches your hand.

you're doing your best to keep down your laugh. you reach with the other hand—almost nonchalantly. before you know it, she grabs that one too.

she smiles and simply looks at you, waiting to see what you're going to do next.

you can't hold it in anymore. you start laughing so hard, you fall forward and knock raibaru off the bench. which, in turn, only causes you both to laugh more.

so, passerby can look to the fountain to see two students laughing in shambles.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈 ⊹

after being with you, she realized that kisses are actually one of her favorite activities. you can lure her out of her room with a promise of a kiss.

and she will hold you until you melt. you can literally just be sitting there, and she will pepper your face all over. so... of course, you decided to mess with her a bit.

you were doing your own separate activities on the couch. you were reading, and she was simply resting. suddenly, you heard the couch creak and felt teruko's body turn.

you expected what was coming next. you felt her lips rushing to your cheek, leaving a small spot. you knew she hadn't closed her eyes yet, so you seized the moment.

you wiped the kiss away with your wrist, returning to your book as if nothing happened.

and she. is just. flabbergasted??

you.. huh?

she slowly orbits her head towards your face, giving you the worst glare of the 21st century. you can literally see the shadow falling onto her face.

"y/n." she says, still holding onto you, pressing slightly harder as a caution. "i'm going to need you to explain."

she's already got trust issues. what is she supposed to do in this situation?? she can't really take your kisses hostage.

you sigh, discouraged that you were already discovered. "aww, you caught me." you put a fake pout on your face, finally looking into teruko's eyes. they're very scary.

"that's not what i asked." she says, lowering her voice further, turning you to look up at her. she's hovering over you, very obviously expecting an explanation.

"well... it was only a prank." you smile. you can't help but let a giggle escape at how passionate she was about a simple peck.

"uh huh. show me." she snaps, furrowing her eyebrows as she lowers herself closer to your face.

you smirk and press her face closer, finally giving her the kiss she wanted. "you don't see me wiping away your kisses," she grumbled, pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

she had a satisfied look on her face, though, and she hugged you tighter. but, if you ever do that again, don't expect her to be so patient with you. she will pounce.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑/𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 ⊹

"you're exhausting..." you heard from behind you, the bells on scaramouche's hat jingling softly.

"i'm just trying to be healthy, explore nature. it'd be good for you to touch some grass sometime, ya know?" you tease, a giggle escaping your mouth.

"you—never mind..." he grumbled, getting closer to you and putting his arms around you.

"someone's awfully clingy today." you slip, giving him a playful glance.

"would you really prefer it if i wasn't?" he asks sweetly, pressing a kiss to your temple. he's almost being too cute to mess with right now.

but, you had priorities. with a huff, you brush your hands where he kissed you, wiping it away. you didn't look directly at him so that it'd be natural, but in your peripheral vision, you saw the most devastated look ever.

his jaw was on the ground. "you did not just do that." he growls.

"do what?" you smile. then get tackled by an angry scaramouche. "—hey!!" you yelp.

he traps you in his arms, holding you close and tight. he kisses you with no warning, straight on the lips, going for the gold. you could've sworn that he was more passionate than some normal kisses.

"you," he says in between each long kiss. "are not allowed," he grumbles. "to get rid of my kisses." he says firmly, looking you in the eyes.

you giggle at how easily he gave in, getting so angry at the prank.

"it was a joke, dummy." you tease.

"this definitely isn't." he smirks, leaning in close as he amorously kisses you one last time.

notes. guys keep in mind i'm only like one episode into season 6 of my hero so monoma may potentially be a little ooc (as well as others)... but i'm catching up as fast as i can i'm so sorry 🤧🤧

anyways... guys what do i do if i get the same req in different fonts (not literal fonts) 🫡

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