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#PROOF I CAN WRITE FLUFF
strawberryspence · 1 year
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Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 
Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 
But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 
And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 
“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 
Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.
Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 
Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.
It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 
“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 
Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 
Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.
Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 
They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 
But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 
Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 
Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 
Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.
Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 
It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  
“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.
“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 
“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.
Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 
Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 
Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 
Eddie nods enthusiastically. 
“Steve? Our Steve?” 
Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 
“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”
Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 
“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 
Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 
But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 
Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 
“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 
“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 
Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 
“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 
Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 
“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 
Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 
“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 
“Steve.” Robin warns.
“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 
They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 
“Achoo!” 
“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 
“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 
“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 
“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”
“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 
She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 
Huh? 
“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 
“Robin.” Steve gasps. 
Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 
She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.
Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 
“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.
“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 
“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 
“Did you hear—“
“What was Robin—“
Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”
Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 
“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 
Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 
Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 
“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 
Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 
“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 
Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 
Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 
There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.
After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.
Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 
He makes it for him instead.
(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.
On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)
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akumicchi · 9 months
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It takes two to love
[Tamaki x fem reader] tw: food.
Just fluff and domesticity
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— Do you think we have it all already?— Tamaki had asked, checking the red plastic basket full of groceries — We have the tapioca starch, fruits, milk...
— Yup, but guess what? —she turned to him with a playful twist of her head— You just won a coupon for a free meal cooked by yours truly. And I need some ingredients. The other day you said you were craving some pasta, right?
He swayed his head from side to side, barely containing a smile. Tamaki let himself be pulled further into the supermarket by their intertwined pinkies.
It was late in the afternoon when the weekly errands were finished and they settled back home for the night. It was an odd pretty thing, this routine both had built for their matching days off, whenever it was. It wasn't normally disrupted by a trip to the supermarket, but in Tamaki's book, quality time doesn't need a specific place to occur. The bought goods sat on the counter, while he rearranged them on their rightful places in the cabinet or the fridge. He had taken a pair of tomatoes from the bag, when she shamelessly stole them from his hands.
— Thanks, Tama, you're always such a gentleman —she teased and kissed his cheek before turning to the chopping board, light on her feet.
It wasn't out of the ordinary, but it was peculiar and funny to see her all...bubbly, like clear water from a stream. He laughed at her.
— You really are excited about making that pasta, wonder were that's coming from? —he got close to the sink, rolling up his sleeves.
— Nope, you're not working on this today, Hun —her hand went to his arm, stopping him from filling the pot with water.— This is my way to say thank you for all your hard work, it won't make sense if you're cooking too! This is your coupon, remember?
Tamaki could feel the heat on his face and the pickup of his heart rate.
— I-um... Okay. But at least let me prepare the boba tea. I want to thank you for your hard work too and —he spoke softly in a classic Tamaki fashion, looking at her right in her round eyes. He had become good at holding eye contact with other people. He thought it may have been due to her influence —, for putting up with me all this time.
She sat the knife on the chopping board, and her arms went to hang loosely around his neck— You know I'm not putting up with you, right? I'm here with you because I love you. I wouldn't be who I am now if it weren't for you, and believe me, I like who I am right now. Do you want me to remind you? —her voice was softer, lower like a whispered secret, as her fingertips rubbed his nape.
Tamaki shuddered under her touch and gaze. His nod was short, almost imperceptible under the weight of his shame. She hugged him tight, scratching his scalp and rubbing his nape. He felt himself go warmer after getting a few kisses on his cheek, heart pounding even faster when she whispered:
— You know I've never really had a favorite hero when I was a kid, right? None of them actually made me feel that sense of... admiration, so to speak. But after my time in UA, the internships and all that, I changed my mind. You are my favorite hero, Tamaki. You are my hero.
Tamaki sighed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt petty, needing to be reassured of something he already knew.
They stood there for a few minutes, holding each other tight, swaying slowly from side to side. Then the urgency to eat came over, and both returned to their tasks: Tamaki prepared the boba tea, she cooked the pasta. The mood picked up fast, with her bumping his hips and vice versa. She hand fed him some sauce and he hummed in satisfaction. Soon enough the food was plated and they sat next to each other at the table.
— Hmm! This is good! —Tamaki said, eyes closed in bliss as he chewed his portion.
— Right? Just the best for my baby.
— What? —he laughed— How come I'm your baby when I'm older than you?
— Shush it, silly, you are my baby.
He just laughed at her goofiness again. Then he waited, relying on his hero instincts, calculating the best time for a swift attack, and stole a spoonful of her own pasta, and stuffed it right into his mouth.
— Hey, that was mine!
He snorted.
•••
The dishes were washed and she sat at a small table on the balcony. She was surrounded by plants and had a clear view of the city lights. It was as peaceful as the busy metropolis could be. In moments like this, she wished the days off were everlasting.
Tamaki arrived shortly, holding two glass cups of the boba tea he had made earlier. He hadn't even fully entered the balcony when a fit of giggles bubbled out of his mouth.
— What is it? —she raised a brow.
Her boyfriend didn't answer. Instead, he put both glasses on the table and left the room, only to return with a napkin, which he used to wipe away some remnants of sauce from her lips.
— There, all better. —he found it very endearing, how her cheeks lit up with color and her eyes averted his gaze, visibly embarrassed. Even the way she tried to play it off was adorable, his silly girl.
— Oh, clumsy me... Haha...
— Even if you're clumsy, I'll always be by your side to clean up your little messes —Tamaki smiled softly, crouched in front of her—. It's the least I can do for you.
She hid her face behind her hands, voice tight in a whine— But I don't want you cleaning my messes though? I'm not a kid!
She had always had an ability to fluster him with sincere compliments and cheesy remarks. One of her favorite things to say was that her job was to show him how loved he was, and if it had to be done by flustering him, then the better. His job, on the other hand, on his own words, was to make her feel safe, so safe that not even her own demons could do her any harm. But it was nice to turn the tables from time to time.
Tamaki pryed her hands out, placing them on her chest— This is where I want your hands to be. It's just me here, so don't hide. Besides —he smiled—, you may not be a kid, but you're still my baby.
— Tamaki! That's my line!
He laughed.
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mrsarnasdelicious · 7 months
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Cagefighter Sihtric Fluff
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"Ouch, fuck." Sihtric groans. He is sore all over and not at all comfortable, no matter how he turns.
He may have won the match, but at a steep price.
He is bruised all over and one of his ribs is sprained, not to mention the busted eyebrow and the split lip. Even kissing is painful for him right now. And he is not happy about it. He really really wants to celebrate his win. But it is just not do-able. Not even when you come sit on top. So you are reduced to cuddles.
Netflix is playing a forgettable show in the background and Sihtric shifts a little so he can put his head on your chest. "Oh, you poor baby." You cooe, carding your fingers through his hair. Sihtric groans, snuggling into your boobs a little deeper. You make a shushing noise, carefully massaging his scalp.
"I want to make love to you." He whines. "Once all your aches have dulled." You assure him. Sihtric swears softly in Dannish. "Big baby." You giggle. Sihtric shoves his face in your cleavage and growls something unintelligible. You make soothing sounds and massage his scalp.
He quickly grows boneless, relaxing against you.
"There is a good boy." You cooe. "My good, sweet boy." You hold him close without squeezing him too tightly. Sihtric smiles against your skin. He is drooling ever so slightly, fully surrendering to the comfort you provide him.
He's nodding off, you recognise the slowing breath. You lean in and press a kiss atop his head. "Sleep, my sweet fighter." You whisper. "We'll celebrate when you feel less sore."
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eustassslut · 1 year
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Can you give us more Heat(/Wire) hcs please 😭😭 I love your blog sm <<33
you ask and you shall receive
Heat gets flustered easily and everything makes him blush
He likes to be the big spoon
He's a massive Marina stan
Loves spicey food and anything with herbs in it
Wire was his bisexual awakening
He saw Wire whilst their gangs were fighting and blushed when Wire tried to punch him
Heat's family used to run a traveling circus before they settled down on the island he grew up on
He's always surprising the crew by pulling out some random circus related skill that no one expects him to have
His father was a sword swallower and breath fire, which is who Heat learned from
Also has no gag reflex anymore
His mother was a trapeze artist and taught Heat everything she knew
Has a younger sister
His favourite alcoholic drink is Drambuie
His favourite non-alcoholic drink is hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream
Heat's parents love Wire and regularly send him gift packages
His closest friends on the crew include Noe, Haikei, Killer, Bubblegum and Hop
Heat and Wire used to sneak away from their gangs (who were technically at war with each other) to make out when they were teenagers
Literally everybody knew but they all pretended not to know
Often lies awake at night stressing about embarrassing and awkward things he's said
Used to make Wire flower crowns in their teens since they would sneak off to fields
Loves when his hair is played with or when he gets kissed
His favourite memories are almost all of his dates with Wire when they used to sneak around on their island, especially the memory where he taught Wire how to tightrope walk
Cries at everything in movies (sad scenes, happy scenes, romantic scenes)
Laughs at scary movies that involves clowns
Was probably a former clown for his circus, but no one has actually been able to find out
Wire does know since he accidentally saw pictures of Heat in clown makeup trying to fight another clown from a rival circus, but he's sworn to secrecy about it
His favourite movie would probably be the Sharknado or Monty Python movies
Briefly carried around a step ladder so he could kiss Wire without straining his neck
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lazy-cat-corner · 1 year
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Remember when I said I wanted to one day make a Valki fic? Yeah that day is coming sooner than planned. There’s this WIP I’ve had sitting on the backburner for years and honestly went untouched because I got sucked in the sylki fandom.
So hold on guys, but a fic is in the works and should be posted once I workout the kinks.
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A preview, just to promise myself that this will happen and soon!
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mercyofempty · 2 years
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on the plus side i managed to make prince fuck autistic
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crazywolf828 · 1 year
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Y'know a lot of people followed me from my soft fluffy fics from bee week and uh... Man y'all are sure in for a shock when regular content resumes😅
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garoujo · 7 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !
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“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.
“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”
he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.
“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.
“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.
“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.
you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.
his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”
you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.
“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.
you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.
you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.
“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“
“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.
“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”
“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.
“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.
“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”
gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.
you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.
“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.
you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.
“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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wintfleur · 20 days
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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 
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﹕─┈ 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 )
1k celly masterlist main masterlist f1 masterlist
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 )
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visionsofmagic · 7 months
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day 2: ryomen sukuna [breeding kink]
࿓ synopsis • sukuna just wants a womb to put his babies in but it changes when he fucks you.
―❦ nsfw, explicit language, f!reader, heian era!sukuna who has fours arms, concubine!reader, contains of a bit dark themes, licking, marks, pet names, humiliation, sukuna is being sukuna, a bit of fluff, sex addiction, fingering, cum, overstimulation [‘is all I guess?] • 1.8k • the first time I am writing for my favorite villain from jjk. Excited but there can be mistakes. enjoy! [kinktober m.]
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“fuck brat!” a dark chuckling, mocking you as his crimson four eyes look at below - at the mess you are making because of his thick cocks inside your walls, deep enough to make it ache like hell yet magnificent enough to give you the pleasure no one can. “look at how my seed is coming out of your pathetic pussy.” 
he doesn’t wait for you to respond- to even comprehend what he’s saying, holding your smaller face by the chin as his palm stays on your cheek. 
he lowers your head down, making you look at his cocks disappearing inside your pussy, and a bit of his hot semen dripping from it to his abdomen. 
“it’s-“ you try to say, sounding husky since you have only moaned, and screamed in the last few hours. closing your eyes, a jolt of electricity mixed with pain and pleasure runs through your body, even in veins, when he moves his hips, thrusting into you one more time before making you sit on his cocks once again - oh, his two damn big cocks should’ve ripped you apart if he wasn’t this gentle, surprisingly calm and gentle because he wants you to stay alive - you will have his legacy inside your womb after all, the reason why he fucks you for the past few hours.
“is it too much?” mocking again, his tongue on the abdomen takes a lick from your abdomen, traveling to your breasts from there, sending another mix of tears and moans.
“suku – aghh!“ a slap on the ass, “my king! oh, it’s - it’s too much! I can’t - I can’t -!” 
he only laughs at your poor attempts, “you can’t?” he asks, not a question though, only a treat as he sounds like pure poison. one of his hands holds you from your neck harshly enough to make you shake in fear for a moment while the other free one caress your hair - the opposite actions of his two arms gives you a dizzying sensation that takes your logical side from you, giving you pure insanity in return.
“be grateful that I fuck you whore,” his other two hands hold your waist as he makes you move forward and backward, riding you slowly. you only hear your own breaths as if there is nothing left inside your lungs, eyes already blurred that look at his bastard but attractive face, hands standing beside you because you have no brain to use them, not anymore, not after he fucked you in 5 different positions already. “there are thousands of women and men who beg for my cocks, you know that, right brat?” 
his hands move from your waist to your ass, grasping the flesh tightly – too tightly to leave red marks as you believe after feeling a sudden heat rushing to the skin he is holding, however, he doesn’t care at all – why he should anyway? you’re just one of his concubines – maybe his favorite one for the moment, and him showing you mercy and a bit of affection – unlike he does for others – doesn’t mean anything; you’re just there to take his hot semen every now and then, whenever he wants to fuck that pussy and brain of yours so that you can have his legacy inside you, heir to him – lots of heirs.
“puff –“ he says, scoffing after that, picking you up – a pathetic and cuckdumbed woman in his arms, he thinks, gazing at your half-closed eyes, agape mouth – salvia running out of it, “disgusting,” he says in a low tone but contrary to his words, his actions are proof that he likes what he sees because he keeps going and going until his eyes travel from that open mouth of yours he wants to put one of his cocks in, to your breasts full of biting marks that turned to red, moving to your pussy from there.
his cocks’ tips standing beneath your pussy that is pouring his semen ‘cause it is too fucking much.
shaking his head in arrogance, he puts your body on his lap with a bridal style, left hands staying on your back while a free one stays on your pussy, caressing it and he watches how your body begins to shake again, a hand is put on his chest, holding his wide open sleeve’s side tightly as if you have right to do that, and even your head fall into his shoulder, breathing rapidly yet lowly as he holds your body close to him.
why he does that – why he allows you to do that; remains unanswered.
he doesn’t think much, not now, he has a desire to put that damn semen into your wide-open pussy.
holding your thighs apart, his fingers – two long and thick fingers enter into your messy slit, white wetness joins into hot walls one by one, and it continues until sukuna is satisfied with it. “do not fucking dare to move now, woman.” he treats you. he sounds he is one step away from breaking your neck if you do move. you should fear him, you know, oppositely, you do otherwise, giving astonishing state to sukuna, making him freeze for a moment when he feels you getting closer to him, a hand travels on his neck, and a head sits on his shoulder, you even open your legs wider.
you don’t say anything, the mouth is too dry to speak aloud; he gets it though – and that gives satisfaction to him, and his responses end with a new position.
being the definition of menace for desires live within him, and you witness it when he puts you on the carpet, hovering below you as he cages you between his four arms, then, one of them appears on your abdomen, pushing it into the floor – gently yet it feels terrifying.
you look into his crimson eyes, hoping to see sanity inside them – what a fool you’re to try searching.
no, no – you think to yourself, conscious coming back even though you're high – he will not fuck you as a concubine now, he will fuck you as if you’re his queen, you’re so sure of it and the words slipping out of his smirking mouth prove you right.
“I will fuck so many babies inside this womb that you won’t be able to even walk, pretty slut,” a compliment, huh, sounds different than you thought, still, gives a jolt of happiness throughout your entire body that lying beneath his massive body, ready to take him one more – or maybe even more – time.  “I will make a fucking queen out of you with my children. don’t you worry whore,”
the only thing you can remember is seeing his big smile – entertaining before the only thing you can comprehend is his presence below you, behind you, under you – hands conquers every part of your body because you’re his – the one who will give him heir, stay beside him, being a fucking queen of kings of curses. “you’re entirely mine now. mine to have – fuccck! – mine to fuck! and mine to breed.”
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina !
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springtyme · 1 month
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heyy love, could you do an aaron hotchner x fem bau reader where they dated in secretly for a while but then he broke up with her. the reason he broke up with her is because he is her boss and that always was something that made him feel doubtful about their relationship. it’s up to you if you want to end it with an happy ending.
thank youu
𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ♡
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify
Thank you so much for the request, dear anon! Such a lovely one and I was so happy to write for Hotch! mwah <3
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summary: You suspect that you've been in love with Aaron Hotchner since you first laid eyes on him three years ago. Now you're on your way to Idaho to go on your first case together since he broke your heart two weeks ago.
word count: 4.5k
warnings/tags: Angst and fluff. Boss/employee relationship. Hurt/comfort. Heartbreak. Kissing. Sharing a bed. (first time I write for Hotch, so please bear with me) Haven't proof read yet. I don't know if I really like how it ended up tbh, but maybe it's just because I was really tired while writing it..?
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You keep your gaze on the pages of the book, despite the words keep blurring together and after having read the same paragraph four times over, without even having registered what you have read. You’ve given up on actually getting any reading done, but you don’t want anyone talking to you right now and you still have almost four hours left before you land in Idaho. So you keep eyes glued to the book, hoping that the act of pretending to read will deter any unwanted conversation.     
You can feel his eyes on you, not all the time, but you feel how his gaze occasionally lingers on you. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you sense his presence nonetheless.  
Taking in a deep breath you look up from the book to steal a glance in his direction, catching his eye for a brief moment before he looks away. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, a hint of longing that mirrors your own. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by the stoic mask he wears so well as he continues his conversation with Derek. 
The last two weeks have been painful, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions since Aaron had ended your relationship, before it even had a chance to really begin. It’s been three years since you joined the BAU and from the very beginning you had felt drawn to Aaron Hotchner in a way that defied logic and reason, like there was a connection between you that transcended the professional boundaries of boss and subordinate. 
A silly crush is what it had started as, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized that what you felt was far more than just that. It was a deep, undeniable attraction, a connection that went beyond the surface level. And as time passed, that initial spark grew into something more profound, something that stirred your soul and filled your heart with warmth. 
Sometimes you had let yourself hope that he felt the same way, that the moments of shared glances and unspoken words between you held a deeper meaning, but you had never dared act on it, or let yourself get your hopes up too high. The reality of Aaron’s position as your boss and the boundaries it imposed had always stood as a barrier. The unspoken rules of professionalism, the fear of risking his or your career and the harmony of the team had kept your feelings hidden, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. 
It was three months ago that things had changed between you. It had been a moment of vulnerability, a shared confession during a late-night conversation with the raw emotions of the aftermath of an exceptionally harrowing case that had laid bare the depths of your emotions, and the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had reached a point of no return. 
He had kissed you that night and it was sweet and tender, yet charged with unspoken desire and desperation. It was a moment of surrender, a brief glimpse into a world where the barriers between you could be broken down and the feelings you had both been suppressing could be allowed to flourish. 
The next couple months had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered confessions, each one deepening the bond between you in ways that words could never fully capture. There were secret meetings in secluded corners of the BAU office, stolen kisses in the quiet of the night, and shared glances that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.
But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a shadow began to loom over your newfound connection. Aaron had started to act distant and reserved, his once warm and affectionate demeanor now replaced by a noticeable aloofness. And two weeks ago on a night where the both of you had stayed late to finish some reports he had told you that it all had been a mistake, and that the two of you should maintain a strictly professional relationship moving forward. 
His words had cut through the air with a sharp finality and landed like a heavy blow, shattering the fragile hope that had still lingered within you. Aaron’s eyes had been averted, unable to meet your gaze as he spoke the words that shattered your heart.
You steal another glance at Aaron, watching as he maintains his composure in conversation with Derek, his mask of professionalism firmly in place. 
You turn back to your book, the words still a jumbled mess on the page. You can’t pretend to read anymore, not when your heart is heavy with memories and unspoken words. With a sigh, you close the book, making Emily, who is seated across the aisle, glance up from the case file she is reading with a questioning look. 
You offer her a faint smile, attempting to convey a sense of normalcy despite the turmoil swirling within you. 
“You okay?” she asks as she sets aside the case file. You appreciate her gesture, knowing that Emily’s intuition often went beyond words.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you. With a small nod, you offer Emily a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind,” you reply softly, the words carrying a weight that belie their simplicity.
Emily nods in understanding, her gaze holding a sense of sympathy. “He’s an idiot, by the way,” she says with a wry smile, and you feel how your heart stops for a second, panicking at the thought of Emily uncovering the truth of what has unfolded between you and Aaron. 
“What do you mean?” you stammer, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Emily’s response.
Emily just smiles at you as she picks up her file again. “We’re profilers, it’s not hard to read between the lines,” Emily says with a knowing glint in her eyes, her smile reassuring and understanding. “And you’re not as hard to read as you think, it’s clear that you have been dating someone, you have been looking like a smitten kitten for months, it’s been really cute to see, by the way, but something has changed recently. You’ve been distant, and often lost in thought sulking,” Emily continues, her tone gentle yet perceptive. 
It’s not like it really surprises you, given how perceptive Emily is, and how deeply you’ve been feeling the shifts in your relationship with Aaron, but you had still hoped that you could have hidden your feelings from colleagues. 
“So, yeah, whoever he is that has you feeling like this is an idiot, you’re clearly a catch,” Emily says with a reassuring smile, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding.
You feel relief wash over you, though Emily has sensed that you’ve been heartbroken, she hasn’t figured out that it is our boss that has been the course of it. 
“Thanks, Em,” you say, offering the dark haired woman a tired but grateful smile.
Emily returns your smile. “If you ever need to talk or just... not talk, I’m here,” she offers, her voice warm and reassuring.
“I appreciate that,” you say, and you do really mean it, but you know that you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. “But I think I’ll try to take a nap first, hopefully clear my head a bit before we land.” 
“Mm, sounds like a plan,”Emily responds with a soft chuckle. 
Grabbing the blanket from the empty seat next to you, you lean back in your seat, engulfing your body in the soft, fluffy material. 
Before closing your eyes you cast one last glance at Aaron, his profile etched against the soft glow of the cabin lights. The memories of stolen moments with stolen kisses floods your mind, mingling with the ache of his recent rejection. You feel a pang in your heart, a mix of longing and sorrow, as you turn away, curling up in your seat, closing your eyes to the world outside.
You pull the blanket closer around you, the soft warmth of the blanket envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and security, providing a shield against the turmoil of your heart. The gentle hum of the airplane engines lulls you into a state of relaxation, the rhythmic sound serving as a soothing backdrop to your thoughts and emotions. 
As you feel yourself drifting further into the realm of sleep, your senses start to weaken, the sounds of the airplane cabin fading into a distant murmur and you barely register the tears gently sliding down your cheeks before you drift off. 
· · · · · 
You’re softly pulled out of sleep by the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. As you slowly flutter your eyes open, the soft glow of the cabin lights illuminates the figure beside you.
“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re about to land,” Derek’s voice is warm and filled with a hint of amusement as he gently rouses you from your slumber.
You blink a few times, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your mind as you adjust to the reality of the present moment. With a small smile, you offer Derek a nod of gratitude. Slowly, you sit up in your seat, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you get ready for touchdown. 
As the plane begins its descent, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - longing, sorrow, and a hint of resignation. The turbulence of your heart echoes the turbulence in the jet cabin as you start dissenting onto a lower altitude.     
As the cabin lights dim in preparation for landing, you look up to find Aaron’s eyes looking in your direction, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he looks away, a shadow covering his features in the soft glow. This would all be so much easier if he would stop looking at you all the time.    
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as the plane continues its descent. The mix of longing and sorrow in your heart feels almost suffocating, but you push it aside. You have to focus, have to keep your head clear for the sake of the case, you are a professional and you are not going to let your emotions cloud your mind. As the wheels touch the runway with a slight jolt, signaling your arrival in Idaho, you
And as the team disembarks from the plane and makes their way to the awaiting SUVs, you feel a sense of resolve settling within you, happy to no longer be confined to the limited room of the jet cabin and as you step out into the crisp evening air, you release a sigh of relief. 
You watch Aaron walk ahead of you, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he walks to one of the cars and you beeline for the other. You keep your gaze fixed outside the window for most of the car ride, watching the landscape pass by in a blur as the car speeds towards its destination, a little sleepy town about an hour away. 
As you and the team arrive at the local police station, you can feel the tension between you and Aaron simmering just beneath the surface. The case at hand requires your full attention, and you push aside the turbulent thoughts and emotions that threaten to consume you as you focus on the task at hand.
Throughout the evening and early night, you work alongside the team, profiling the unsub and piecing together clues to hopefully catch the unsub before they strike again. The familiarity of the work, the rhythm of profiling and investigating grounding you in the present moment, making you go into a state of laser focused professionalism. You find a sense of purpose in the work you do, a reminder that you are more than the turmoil of your emotions.
But as the night wears on, the team regroups at the hotel to get a few hours of sleep before continuing the investigation in the morning. You find yourself standing outside the small hotel, looking up at the dark, star lit sky and as you turn to head inside and join the rest of the team, you feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as you see Aaron standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his usual stoic expression faltered, his brown eyes softening as they meet yours.   
For a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing in the quiet night, and suddenly, you know that the decision you have made to the hard choice you’ve struggled with for the past two weeks is the right one. 
 Without saying a word, you walk towards him, a mix of uncertainty and determination coursing through you. As you come to a stop in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him. “Not here,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you gently take his hand, leading him towards a secluded corner of the hotel grounds. 
As you come to a stop, you turn to face him, the dim light of the night casting shadows across his face. With a heavy sigh, you search his eyes for any sign of the man you once knew, the man who had kissed you with such tenderness and held you with such care, for the man you think might’ve even loved you. You had loved him, had long before he kissed you, and you still love.
 “Aaron, I…” you begin, trailing off as you feel all the words in your head leave you as you look into his eyes, remembering that night he had kissed you for the first time. It had been a late night just like this one, it had been the first time you had ever called him by his first name. 
“Let’s sit,” he says, his voice gentle yet strained, as he guides you to a nearby bench. You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for leading you on, for... for everything.” His words are filled with regret, and you can see the pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrors your own. 
He reaches out his hand, hesitating before resting it on yours. His touch is soft and hesitant but filled with unspoken longing and you feel how your heart skips a beat, how you have missed the feeling of him touching you, even if it’s just the slightest of touches. 
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper. 
‘But it did hurt, it hurt so, so much’, is what you want to say. But as you look into Aaron’s eyes, filled with regret and vulnerability, you find yourself unable to form the words, the intensity in the warm, chocolate brown depths of his gaze rendering you speechless. You see the conflict within him, the turmoil of emotions swirling beneath the surface, and you feel the need to avert your gaze.  
You look down at his hand on yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine in the balm night air. For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the familiar sensation, the connection that still linger between you despite the circumstances.
Aaron’s hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent plea for understanding. “You deserve so much better than that,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.
You take a deep breath, the words forming in your mind before you speak them out loud. “Maybe I don’t want you to decide for me what I do and don’t deserve,” you say, looking up at him again, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. Aaron’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mix of  crossing his features.
It seems like it’s his turn to be lost for words, which for some reason seems to give you a bit more courage. You fill your lungs with another deep breath before opening your mouth.  
“I’m quitting,” you declare, your voice firm and resolute. You’ve been struggling with making the decision, but as you look at Aaron now, face lit up by the soft moon light you know that it is the only decision for you, you are never gonna be able to let him go if you keep working for the BAU. “I’m turning in my resignation letter when we get back from this case.”
Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, his grip on your hand tightening even more as he processes your words. The weight of your statement hangs heavy in the air between you, the unspoken implications of what this means for both of you settling in. You can see how a myriad of emotions flicker across his face – surprise, concern, and perhaps a glimmer of something else that you can’t quite place.
“You can’t do that,” Aaron’s voice is firm but filled with a mix of concern and resignation, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt
You can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at his words, it’s not like you had expected him to be happy about your decision, but a little, and probably naive, part of you had hoped that he would acknowledge that it would be the solution to how the two of you could be together, hoped that he still wanted that. But you’re not leaving the BAU for the slim chance that you can be with Aaron. You’re quitting because it’s become clear to you that it is the only solution. If the only time you can push aside the pain of being around him is when you’re actively investigating  a violent crime case, you have to let him go, and you can only do that by leaving the BAU. 
“Yes, I can… I have to, I think,” you say firmly, yet you feel your heart breaking a little by the thought of leaving. “I need to do this for myself. For my own well-being,” you continue, your gaze unwavering as you look into his eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.” 
Aaron remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. Finally, he sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he admits, his voice heavy with regret.
“I know,” you reply softly, a tinge of sorrow coloring your words. “But we both knew the risks when we started this.”
“I should never have put you in this position,” Aaron says, his gaze dropping to the ground as he speaks. “I should never have kissed you that night. Ilet my own feelings cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. I’m your boss, and I took advantage, and I-I hurt you, and…” 
“No, look at me, please.” You reach out and gently cub his cheek in your hand, making him meet your gaze. “Aaron, it wasn’t just you. I wanted it too, I wanted to be with you,” you confess, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I wanted to take the risk because I thought it was worth it. And maybe it was, for a while. But we can’t keep going like this, Aaron. It’s not fair to either of us.” 
Aaron’s eyes search yours, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths. “What are you saying?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation. 
“I’m saying that I need to let you go,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to let go of this hope that maybe someday we could find a way to be together. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s only causing us both pain.” Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you speak, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. But despite the pain, you feel a sense of clarity wash over you, a sense of liberation in finally speaking the truth. 
Aaron’s eyes soften, his hand coming up to gently grasp yours that’s still cupping his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. You offer him a sad smile, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away. 
“Me too, Aaron,” you say softly, your voice filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. As you stand up from the bench, you turn to walk away, the weight of your decision settling in your heart. But before you can take a step, you feel a hand grasp yours, stopping you in your tracks. You turn back to see Aaron standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of something you can’t quite place. 
“I...I can’t let you leave without saying this,” Aaron begins, his voice wavering slightly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and in the process, I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let you go without telling you that I love you. ” 
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the depth of his confession washing over you like a wave. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for the two of you. “But what does that mean, Aaron?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What are you saying?” 
Aaron takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to live with the regret of letting you slip away. I want to fight for a future where you are a part of my life. I know it won’t be easy, I know there are risks and complications, but I can’t let you go without at least trying cause I love you.” 
Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into Aaron’s eyes, the sincerity and love shining within them filling your heart with warmth and longing. Taking a step closer to Aaron, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with determination. 
“I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” 
Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. Without another word, he closes the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss filled with passion and longing. The world falls away as you melt into each other, lost in the moment of shared love and desire as the man you love kisses you under the moonlight.
The kiss deepens, becoming a promise of the future you both want to fight for, a pledge to overcome the obstacles that stand in your way, a balm for the weeks of heartbreak. And as you break apart, breathless and filled with emotion, you feel how your entire body shivers, already missing the feeling of Aaron’s warm lips against yours. 
“You’re freezing,” Aaron frowns, quickly shredding himself of his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Let’s get you inside.”
You nod, your heart swelling with hope and love as he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the hotel. Hotel might be a little generous; it’s more of a bed and breakfast, with so few rooms that the team had to pair up and share, but it was the only accommodation in town and it is not like you and the team aren’t used to having to share rooms from time to time. 
It turns out the rest of the team has already paired up and hit the hay, leaving only one room since you’re the last two to arrive. “Looks like you and I’ll have to share a room,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, an hour ago you would be horrified by it, but now you’re absolutely thrilled about it.  
“Yeah, looks like it,” he says with a soft smile on his face as you get your keys before taking your hand in his again and leading you to your shared room.  
As you step inside, the warmth of the room envelops you, melding with the warmth of Aaron’s touch as he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more in a sweet, tender embrace. In the dim light of the hotel room, with the moon casting a soft glow through the curtains, the emotions swirling within you are no longer suffocating, but freeing, as you surrender to the love that has bound the two of you together.
As you finally break apart and look around it turns out that the room is a twin room, with two beds divided by a bedside table. It makes sense that your coworkers didn’t leave you to share a room with a shared bed. 
You share a knowing look with him before the both of you start to quickly get ready for bed, it’s late and you’re both exhausted and there is only a few hours till you’ll need to get up again. 
You share one last kiss before moving to your respective beds, but as you lay there, the distance between you feels unbearable. The man you have been pining over for three years has just a little while ago told you that he loves you after weeks of heartbreak and he lies so close yet you can’t even touch him? That’s ridiculous! 
“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice filled with longing as you look at Aaron.
“I know,” he replies, his voice just as filled with yearning as he pulls his covers to the side letting you slip into the bed with him. 
You settle into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you feel as if you’re finally coming home. The walls that had been built between you are crumbling down, allowing you to embrace the love that has always been between you.
As you snuggle closer to Aaron, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The turmoil of the past weeks fades away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love.
“I’m never letting you go again,” Aaron whispers, his breath warm against your ear, and you know that he means it. And you know that you never want to let him go either. 
With a smile on your face, and your heart full of love and hope, you drift off to sleep in the arms of the man you love, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together.
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theroseempress · 1 year
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Wrote a short fluffy scene for the main couple in my current WIP! This is set some time before the book would start, and I honestly had quite a bit of fun writing this. (despite how short it is)
~
Felix slumped back into his chair, chewing on his lower lip as he stared at the hologram display hovering over his desk. Hmpf.
He was just contemplating taking a break to go for a walk, when a very annoyed sounding huff emanated from behind him. Felix twisted around in his chair, right shoulder digging into the chair’s back. Helen, who was lying on the nearby couch, was glaring at a thick book with fervor. Felix straightened, leaning his chin on the back of his chair and frowning thoughtfully at the blonde. His train of thought had just started running, when it was instantly derailed by the first few words of a familiar song beginning to play from his tablet. Instantly brightening, Felix snapped to his feet and bounced over to Helen, tugging at her arm.
“C’mon! It’s the dancing song!”
Helen looked somewhat annoyed, but let Felix tug her upright and start pulling her around the room with him. It wasn’t the most elegant dance; Helen’s usual grace was somewhat hindered by both having a partner (something she wasn’t used to) and Felix’s own lack of skill with dancing in general, but it didn’t need to be.
It wasn’t long before Helen’s frown was gone, and the two were spinning around the room together, worries forgotten for this happy moment.
(they would both remember that moment for a long time, albeit in different ways. For Felix, Helen’s bright laugh and the way the golden sunlight caught her hair and lit it up almost as bright as the sun itself were what stuck, the memory caught in golden light and the rare feeling of being genuinely happy.
For Helen, the spontaneity of it was what stayed, Felix’s orchestra shifting to match the song playing from his tablet, both of them occasionally bumping into each-other or a piece of furniture, somehow none of that ruining the joy of it.
For both of them, it was a memory caught in gold, drifting through the warm afternoon sunlight along with the dust flecks and laughter)
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mrsmikaelsxn · 9 months
Text
Tired
masterlist
pairing: theodore nott x female reader
warning: somewhat angst to fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, best friends to lovers, protectiveness, c*rmac mcl*ggen
summary: you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back
a/n: hello lovely people! i am alive and well! i sincerely apologize for not writing in awhile, i just haven't had any motivation to write lmao (this isn't proof read because its really late and i'm tired, so i apologize for any mistakes) (i chose the song below because i've been singing it for weeks and it somewhat relates to theo in this)
song: i'm just ken - ryan gosling
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Theodore Nott was tired.
And in love.
With his best friend, nonetheless.
You may be wondering why he was tired. Well, he was tired of feeling upset whenever you called him your best friend. He was tired of hiding how he felt towards you since he was a thirteen-year-old. He was tired of the jealousy that took over him whenever someone flirted or went out with you.
Theodore was tired of many things.
At the moment, he was sat in the Great Hall as Draco complained about his classes. He wasn't listening, though, no he was staring at you as you happily talked with your friends in Hufflepuff.
Someone then sits in the empty spot next to him and pats his shoulder. He tenses slightly and Draco stops talking. They both turn and look at Cormac Mclaggen.
The two Slytherins practically have to hold in their vomit at the mere sight of the Gryffindor.
"Can I help you, Gryffindor?" Theo's eyes narrowed at the hand on his shoulder.
Cormac awkwardly removes his hand and sucks in a breath, a smirk making its way to his face. "You can't, but she can." He tilts his head and his eyes land on you.
Draco and Theo's eyes follow his line of vision and Theo clenches his jaw. "What do you want?"
"I want that friend of yours. And for you to set us up," he shrugs.
Draco glances back and forth between the two boys. He knows how protective Theo is of you, and that this isn't likely going to end well.
"Let me get this straight... you want me to set you up with y/n?" Theodore says with disdain.
"Exactly. Something about her just has me wishing to be in her bed, you know?"
Theo slams his hands on the table, causing some people nearby to look over. He glares at the boy and speaks lowly, "The fuck did you just say?"
"Don't tell me you aren't friends with her to get in her-"
Draco cuts him off before his could finish. "I suggest you don't finish that fucking sentence, Mclaggen."
"I'll take that as my sign to leave. Just let me know whenever you're done with her, I'll be waiting with open arms... and legs," he laughs as he walks out of the Hall.
"Fucking disgusting asshole," Theodore mumbles.
"I can hex him if you want," Draco says. "Maybe get Snape to take points from Gryffindor."
"Both sound good to me."
His eyes make their way back to you and he sees your eyes already on him. You smile brightly at him and he grins back. You turn around so he doesn't see your face warm.
One of your friends, Hannah Abbot, giggles and pokes your cheek. "Someone's blushing."
"Am not!"
"Yes you are. Don't lie," she leans in, "you have feelings for Nott."
"I don't know what you are talking about. We're just friends."
"Mhm." Hannah looks at you with an incredulous face, "I'm pretty sure that friends don't make heart eyes at one another."
You gasp, "Theo and I do not make heart eyes at each other."
Hannah whispers, "I know that you know that you like him. I hope that you believe me when I tell you that he looks at you like he's about to get down on one knee-"
You gently place your hand on her mouth and look at her with wide eyes. "That's enough." You remove your hand but chew on your lip for a second. "Does he look at me like that?"
"Yes! And for the record, I think your children-"
"Merlin! I can't do this today," you drop your head into your hands as Hannah rants about how beautiful your family would be.
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It's been two weeks since then and whenever you hung out with Theo, you tried to decipher if he was looking at you the way Hannah has claimed he was.
Theo, however, noticed how you seemed more bright than usual. What had happened that made you more smiley and happy? Did you find someone?
He runs his hands over his face and sighs.
"Theo? Are you alright?"
He sits straighter at the sound of your warm voice. "Yes, love. I was just lost in thought."
"Oh? And what thought has you frowning like a kicked puppy?"
You lean back against the tree behind you and put your legs out straight, crossing your ankles. You pat your lap and Theo places his head down. Your hands start to play with his hair, like muscle memory.
"Nothing your pretty head should worry about," he says quietly as he stares up at the stars. It was past curfew, and you weren't one to break any rules, but how could you say no to your favorite person? Especially when the note was attached to your favorite flower.
"Hm, well I don't like it when you frown. I much prefer to look at your gorgeous smile," you chew the inside of your cheek and start to braid some strands of his hair.
His cheeks turn a light pink and his eyes meet yours. "Gorgeous smile?" He feels a flicker of hope that there's a slight chance you reciprocate his feelings.
"Yeah," you mumble with a light laugh.
He smiles and before he could say anything else, something clicks above him.
You grin as you hold your polaroid camera above his head. "Gotcha."
He fake pouts and tickles your stomach. You burst out laughing and the camera falls to your side, "Theo! Stop, please!" You beg and squirm.
"Okay, since you asked nicely."
"You know, I think I can be tickled to death. I don't know about you, but personally I can't really breathe when I'm being tickled."
He lets out a breath, "I don't know if I can, I haven't been tickled before." He sits up a tiny bit and leans on his elbows.
You huff, "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we." You quickly move so that you're next to him and tickling his stomach. His head falls back as he laughs. You smile and he grabs your waist and rolls the two of you over so that he's now on top of you.
Theo gazes down at you. He sucked in a breath at your closeness and couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to your smiling lips. 'So pretty,' he thinks to himself.
His arms are on both sides of your head and he leans down a bit so that if either of you were to move just an inch, your lips would touch.
"Theo," you whisper breathlessly.
"I really fucking want to kiss you right now," he says quietly.
You look at his lips, "So do it."
Without another word, he connects his lips to yours and both of your eyes flutter shut.
He feels a burst of butterflies fill his stomach. As childish as that may sound, he's had countless scenarios of kissing you. But never would he have expected it to be so perfect as it was.
Your lips were soft and warm. His were too. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth happily.
His tongue wanders your mouth and your hands go up and comb through his hair. He lets out a content sigh against your mouth and pulls away the tiniest bit. He gives a shorter and sweet kiss before his tongue is against yours again.
You taste of strawberries and cherries. That was because you ate the two fruits almost every night for dessert.
He tastes like slight cigarette smoke and vanilla, as odd as that may seem.
The two of you could drown in the taste of each other.
Theo pulls away places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he sits up and pulls you against his chest.
He rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck. "I love you," he whispers.
You furrow your eyebrows. You've said the three words to one another before, but you hoped he meant it another way. Which you were almost sure of after the kiss. "I love you more."
"No," he shakes his head against your neck. "I'm in love with you."
You feel your heart rate increase and the largest smile is now on your face. "You are?"
"Of course I am. I've been in love with you for years. You don't have to say-"
You turn and face him. "I'm," you kiss his cheek, "in," you kiss the other, "love," you kiss his forehead, "with," you kiss his nose, "you," you finally kiss his lips and Theo melts.
You pull back and look at his blushing face. "Oh!" You just remember your camera and reach over to grab it.
You pull the printed picture from the top and look at the developed photograph. "Look how beautiful you are," you turn the picture to him.
He takes it from your hands and brings it closer to his face. Even he could see the lovestruck look on his face as he admires you from your lap.
"Lets caption it," you say.
"I think you should write, 'first kiss and love confessions'," Theo tilts his head.
"That's perfect," you smile.
"Not as perfect as you, darling," he winks.
You playfully push his shoulder, "I never took you as a sappy one."
He dramatically places a hand over his heart, "Oh how you wound me."
"Will a kiss make you better?" you ask with a glint in your eyes.
"I believe it will, sweetheart."
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azullumi · 3 months
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trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....
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“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche
summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.
pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind
tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet
note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)
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i. hand
You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.
You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.
“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.
And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.
“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?
“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.
“You’re not unloveable.”
Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.
“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.
“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”
ii. forehead and cheeks
You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.
There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.
No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.
You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.
“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.
The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”
What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.
iii. lips
Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.
You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.
You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.
(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)
If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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sinofwriting · 7 months
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Private Professor - Max Verstappen
Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!
Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon
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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.
It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.
At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.
Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.
It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.
Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.
“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.
He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.
It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.
The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.
His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.
They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.
She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”
It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.
His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.
“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”
Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?
Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.
Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.
It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.
Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.
It also leads to their biggest fight in years.
“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”
“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.
It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”
Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.
The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.
So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.
She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.
The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.
It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.
Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.
“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.
“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”
When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.
Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.
“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.
At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.
“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”
It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.
“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.
“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”
Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.
It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.
“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”
She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.
He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.
It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.
He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.
“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.
“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.
“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.
“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”
The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.
“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.
When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.
“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.
“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”
They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.
Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.
“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.
Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.
“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.
Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.
“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.
It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.
“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”
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etheries1015 · 3 months
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I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭
I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!
Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!
featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!
general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \
TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.
Leona
The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.
"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"
Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.
Ruggie
"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"
"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.
Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.
"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3
Jack
He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.
He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.
With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.
You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3
Azul
He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.
But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;
"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.
He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.
He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.
Jade
The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.
"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.
He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.
But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.
He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!
Floyd
Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.
You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.
"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.
Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.
The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.
"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...
He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.
Ya'll are so silly for each other <3
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