folklorefairyy

[folklorefairyy]

Don't flirt with me, I'm a delusional romantic and horny as hell.

[folklorefairyy]

SOFT DOM!REMUS WILL DO IT FOR ME EVERY TIMEEEE

oh to be loved and taken care of by him!!! i’ve been feeling pretty snowed under right now and this was so comforting and attentive, you always capture remus so beautifully <3

Could I request more soft dom Remus!! Maybe reader forgets to take care of her self because she is too caught up in her work and Remus loving sets her straight and just takes care of her🙏🏻 you are lovely my dear❤️❤️

Thanks for requesting!

cw: implied d/s dynamics, migraine

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

The couch springs groan beside you. You reach blindly for the tea Remus has brought you, eyes still on your laptop. 

“Look here, dove.” 

Your head turns before your mind has caught up to it, one hand still typing out the end of a word. Remus is scrutinizing you, your tea held firmly in his grasp. 

“Close your laptop.” 

“What? Why?” 

Remus gives you a look. “Weren’t you just telling me your head is hurting?” 

You chew the inside of your lip, but stand your ground. “Yeah.” 

“The laptop’s not helping with that, darling.” 

“Finishing my report will.” 

“You’re not finishing anytime soon, and the light’s not good for you.” 

He reaches for your laptop, and you draw it closer to you protectively. “It’ll be bad for me whenever I do it, so I may as well finish tonight.” 

“Enough.” Remus’ voice firms up. “Close it.” 

You scowl but do, saying a silent prayer that you remember all you’d wanted to say when you pick it back up again. Remus takes your laptop, moving it out of reach before he finally passes you your tea. The steam feels nice, and though you’d rather die than admit it you can feel the muscles in your face relax almost immediately. You blow on it gently.

A hand on your leg makes you look up at your boyfriend. Remus’ expression has gentled, a softer brand of concern in his eyes where they meet yours. 

“You wanna come here?” he asks. 

He helps you find your way into his lap, one of your thighs on either side of his. He draws slow, soothing strokes up your sides. One hand finds your face, thumb dimpling your lip. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, not without humor. “I know you wanted to keep working, but your body was tired of it.” Remus moves his thumb to kiss you, soft and lingering. “You’re your own worst enemy when you get like this, dove.” 

Your sullen mood gives way easily under the weight of his devotion. “I’m sorry,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to take better care of yourself.” He studies your face. “Have you had painkillers?” 

“No.” 

A wry smile. “How did I already know you were going to say that?” 

Remus reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of pills he no doubt fetched while the kettle was boiling. He passes them to you, watches as you down them with your tea. 

You watch him back as you swallow, feeling shyer than you did a minute ago. “Thanks, Rem.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He smooths a piece of hair away from your eye. His thumb lands on your temple, beginning to drill small circles. 

If your enthrallment with his touch weren’t enough, the skill with which Remus does the motion would be. It’s hypnotic. Your eyes fall closed, head listing forward. Remus chuckles and encourages it the rest of the way with his other hand on the back of your neck, letting you rest on his shoulder. How could anyone say that soulmates don’t exist, when the curve of his neck seems so perfectly fitted to your face? 

“You’re going to let me look after you now?” he asks warmly. 

You manage a feeble hum of assent. 

Remus is massaging your head with both hands now, deft fingers smoothing over your scalp and working their way gradually towards the tensed muscles of your neck. “Good girl.” Your body goes warm and loose at the praise. Your forehead rests heavily upon Remus’ shoulder. 

His quiet voice takes on an amused hue as he asks, “And what are you going to do the next time your head starts to hurt while you’re working?” 

You whine. “Remus.” 

“I just need to hear it from you once, dove.” 

You sigh. You think for a second that you might just pretend to fall asleep to avoid saying it, but the pressure of Remus’ fingers lessen until they’re barely there at all. He’s waiting for you.

“It starts with a b,” he hints. 

You’re glad he can’t see you scowling into his shoulder. “I’ll take a break.” 

“There we go.” Remus’ fingers resume their work, and you can feel the chuckle brewing in his chest as he turns his head to kiss your temple. “I know we’ll do better next time, won’t we?”

[folklorefairyy]

oh i’m obsessed with my bf <3 (james potter)

[folklorefairyy]

heyy i feel like this is a little basic but could you please do a pumpkin bread mood board with james potter and dating him? like how the relationship would feel and stuff. thank youu! also congrats on 7k :)

Not basic!! I’m just worried about my ability to get the vibe but I hope this is what you’re looking for lovely <3

[folklorefairyy]

“who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?”

[folklorefairyy]

mens thighs!!!!! in slutty shorts!!!!!!!!!!

[folklorefairyy]

oh to be loved by remus <3 ​i know he’d make all my insecurities feel less heavy

he truly is the most caring sweetheart, i want to give him a kiss

hi lovie!! Would u ever do a fic of Remus or any of the other mauraders with a gf who's super insecure about her stretch marks?

Of course! Thank you angel <3

cw: reader is insecure about stretch marks

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 540 words

Remus is in one of his rare tactile moods, and frankly, you’re just pleased to be here. 

It’s impossible to keep focused on your book with his mouth moving warm and slow over the slope of your shoulder. Eventually you stop trying. As soon as your book is tented on the table beside the loveseat your boyfriend’s head is meandering down your body, no longer restricted by you trying to keep your hold on anything. 

You sigh, turning your body so you can recline against a throw pillow and Remus can gain easier access by fitting in between your legs. He kisses down the valley of your chest, dragging the collar of your shirt down until it won’t go any further and then pushing the hem up so he can continue on his course from below. His kisses don’t feel salacious, only reverent, doting. They make you melt into the cushions and ache with a fond warmth. 

Remus holds your hips in both hands as his lips slip down to your navel, deviating to one side before he gets near your bottoms. You tense when you realize the direction he’s heading, and when he gets too close you move perhaps too quickly, a hand on either side of his head to lift his face up to yours. 

“Love you.” You kiss him earnestly. 

Remus’ smile is close-lipped and one-sided. “You can’t keep me from them forever,” he says.

“Hm?” 

He kisses your cheek, then just underneath your jaw. “You never let me anywhere near your lines, lovely girl. I’ve seen them before, they’re nothing to be embarrassed of.” 

Your face heats. “Were you trying to touch them?” 

“No,” he answers placidly. “I was only trying to touch you, and they happened to be there. They’re hardly in the way, though.” 

You rub your lips together, trying and failing to contend with this. It’s one thing if your boyfriend notices your stretch marks, another entirely if he knowingly feels them with his mouth. 

At your silence, Remus lifts his head from your neck, looking at you openly. You get the feeling he knows precisely what’s going through your head and is only giving you space to sort through it yourself. 

“They don’t…freak you out?” you ask him. 

“No, sweetheart,” he says, sincerity threading through his voice like golden fibers. “They’re just a part of your skin. Why would that freak me out?” 

Your shoulders creep up towards your shoulders as he covers the marks on your side with a hand. “I don’t know,” you admit in a soft voice. 

Remus smiles, touching his lips to yours as his fingers soothe over the stripes. “You’re lovely,” he says. “Every part of you is lovely, so it follows that they would be, too. It’s really quite simple.” 

His mouth curves, and you can’t seem to keep yours from following suit, your smiles mirrored against each other’s. 

He pecks your top lip. “Understand?” 

You hum, a sweet warmth pooling in your gut like the feeling after drinking a good cup of cocoa. You let it spread through you, heavy and pleasant. 

“Good. Thank you, sweetheart.” Remus’ mouth starts moving again, marking a path down your side. “Now, if I could continue without further interruptions…” 

[folklorefairyy]

[folklorefairyy]

[folklorefairyy]

oh this is EVERYTHING, me to is EVERYTHING and is the perfect man, i just love him and his caring heart so much and would do anything to find a love like him AHHH, this made me yearn soooo much

Life changed a lot after Nanami Kento came into it.

Nights alone in your apartment feasting on cup ramen with microwaved broccoli (for your health obviously), turned into homemade dinners under candlelight. The long ride to work in the back of an Uber turned into riding in the passenger seat of Nanami’s luxury car, hands intertwined over the middle console. Quick showers turned into long, steaming baths with essential oils. Winding down from a long day turned from nights out at the bar to nights in under the covers while he softly reads to you.

“Darling, hey, wake up,” you hear Nanami whisper in your ear as you feel your shoulders shake lightly. You groan in protest, not wanting to be broken away from the warmth and smell of him all around you.

“I know, I know,” he softly chuckles, “but we need to get ready for bed properly.”

You nuzzle into his side more and wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him slightly, you take one long, dramatic inhale of his scent in the crook of his neck, fluttering your eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses.

“What are you doing?,” he laughs, “It tickles!”

“Just taking some for the road,” you smile into his skin.

“You’re such a dork.”

With Nanami, everything always seems to be taken care of. There is no need to over-extend your brain power, because once a thought or worry passes through, you know it’s been meticulously mulled over by your other half.

Your appointments are scheduled and on the calendar. Your laundry is clean and neatly put away in the proper place. Your memories and photos are filed and categorized, with some of your favorites even framed and displayed in your home and offices. Your books, CDs and other media are sorted alphabetically in pristine condition.

“But wouldn’t it be cool if they were categorized by, I dunno, color? We could make a rainbow wall!” you suggest as you marvel at his work.

Nanami, who is currently kneeling on the floor putting the last of your books on the shelf, turns and gives you a disapproving glare, “Absolutely not. It would be a disservice to your collection.”

“A disservice to my collection?”

“What happens when a series contains books of all different colored covers? Am I supposed to just separate them?”

You blink.

“You’re right. I apologize for even suggesting something so foul.”

But, most importantly, over everything, your body, mind, and soul are finally at ease. Past anxieties rarely present themselves anymore, and, if they do, you never dwell. People say you’re glowing, and they aren’t wrong. Your skin is clear, your hair is shiny and smooth. Your favorite clothes fit a little better, and your shoes are always polished to look brand new.

“Nananmi Kento looks good on you, girl,” Shoko muses, watching you over her lunch in the breakroom.

You smirk, daring not to look across the table to conserve your blush, “Feels good too.”

“Gross!” 

You curl over in laughter as Shoko chucks a strawberry at your head.

All this and more, because Nanami cares, protects, cherishes, and respects you. He would never, ever in a million years try to hurt you in any way. He is honest and loyal, vowed by his duty to be a man. Ever since he was young, he put immense thought into its meaning, only to be confirmed by one look at you.

One look and he knew that you were the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I think I should take you out on a date, if you don’t mind of course,” Nanami stutters, gently pulling you aside after one of your meetings.

“You think we should date?” you question, head reeling.

“Yes,” he starts, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough and it’s time to move forward with our relationship.”

The disbelief you feel must be painted on your face because Nanami’s normally pale skin is flushed cherry red just looking at you.

“I mean, long term,” he’s babbling now, “I want to make you my wife. Well, I wanted you to be my wife from the beginning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but they always say the best relationships start from friendships, so I thought it would be best to take our time. Naturally, now is as good a time as any. We’re at good places in our careers, we already spend a lot of time together, our personalities mesh, and, I don’t mean to be coarse, but I think we’d look pretty good tog-"

Before your mind has a chance to catch up, you’re already cutting him off with a passionate kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down close to you. After a beat, you feel Nanami’s broad, warm hands grab hold around your waist, pulling you to him. 

His lips feel so soft, and more plush than you anticipated. You part yours slightly in an invitation, and he’s quick to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip. You reciprocate and smile when you feel the vibrations of a small moan escape him.

You break the kiss first.

“I’d marry you yesterday if I could, Kento.”

Where he ebbs, you flow. With the few traits he lacks, you flourish. In social settings, you pick up when he doesn’t have the bandwidth to keep going. You can read his mind from his body language alone. You've shown him how to aim for the ideal, even when his pragmatic nature leads the way. You’ve taught him to slow down, even when life is relentlessly shoving him along.

“Kento, are you- are you crying?” you question in shock.

It’s difficult to process the information in front of you. You’re not seeing things, right? That’s definitely a tear falling down his cheek. Quickly, you bring your thumb to his face, swiping it away.

Catching your wrist, he brings your pulse point to his lips, giving you a small kiss there.

Here, feet in the white sand of the island of Redang, under the dark, starry sky, Kento goes down to kneel before you.

Recognizing the gesture, your heart swells and all the air leaves your lungs. Both your hands immediately cover your mouth, and the burn of tears forming ignites behind your eyes.

Through the blur, you see him smile. 

Regaining composure over your senses, you remind yourself to take everything in. The way his honey-brown eyes reflect the lights in the distance, the way his open collar ruffles in the breeze, the appearance of the new freckles from the Malaysian sun that decorate his exposed chest, how his unstyled, blonde hair moves freely, how one of his hands takes both of your own, while the other holds out a breathtakingly beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

Your eyes take him all in and land back on his face, one that displays the most loving, adoring expression you’ve ever received. 

“When you came into my life, everything changed. I knew, from that point forward, I would dedicate my existence to ensuring your happiness. Nothing matters to me more than seeing you smile. It gives me purpose—fills the air in my lungs. I have never, and will never need anything more.”

You watch the tears cascade down his cheeks, mirroring your own.

“Please do me the honor of marrying me and making you my wife.”

One second passes, and you squeal, “Yes!”

a/n: This was supposed to be smutty and turned into something fluffy. I can't help it! I just adore him so much. also, how do we feel about this format? I've never done something like this before!

[folklorefairyy]

oh to be loved by a romantic man that’s absolutely and unashamedly gone for you

[folklorefairyy]

[folklorefairyy]

you don’t understand; being the one person the grumpy, strong man treats softly and with care WOULD fix me

[folklorefairyy]

i’m actually going to go feral if i don’t get me a real life james potter… he is the perfect man

[folklorefairyy]

[folklorefairyy]

making mistakes is normal and it doesn’t make you a bad person

[folklorefairyy]

so slutty when a man stretches and exposes his lower tummy. you know what you're doing.