#like at least he somewhat admits it to himself

[choclatecoveredlove]

Tunnel of Love ❤︎

Playful Land is one of the coolest theme parks ever! The rides were exhilarating and the attractions were even able to keep finicky Floyd’s attention. However, you noticed something as you were checking out the map once more.

“Hey what’s this thing here?” You asked Fellow as you showed him the map. He stifled a sigh before glancing at the map.

“Oh, that? Why that’s our… ‘Tunnel of Love.’ It’s popular amongst couples, but i’m sure a blossoming young scholar like yourself wouldn’t be interested in something so trivial.”

Fellow clearly didn’t know you very well, because just as he was finishing his sentence you grabbed the hand of the guy you had feelings for and dragged him towards the Tunnel of Love with you!

Ace

you wanna go on WHAT with him?????

acts embarrassed and like he doesn’t want to ride but he does

you just can’t tell deuce that he went on this ride. he’ll never hear the end of it.

“of course you’d pick something lame to ride.” “well you don’t have to go on it with me.” “no we’re gonna ride it now.”

“ugh this ride sucks. it’s so slow and boring.”

he’ll groan while reaching out to grab your hand. yknow just in cause there’s an unexpected drop or something. (there is no drop)

he had fun and will smile about it when it thinks about it later on

does he thinks it’s worth the teasing from trey and cater? “well… maybe.”

Trey

he’s embarrassed, like really embarrassed.

not because he’s embarrassed to be seen with you or afraid he’ll be teased (which is unavoidable) but because he’s not very experienced with this kind of thing

“so..is it alright if i hold your hand?”

he’s glad the lighting is so dim in this tunnel; he would hate for you to see him so red in the face

he’s kind of awkwardly silent the enter time because he has no idea what to do or say

however as the ride goes on you notice him scoot continuously closer and closer to you

he gathers the courage to give you a small kiss on the cheek as you get off the ride

“sorry i was weird. let’s do that again some time. i’ll definitely make a bolder move then.”

Cater

he knew about the tunnel of love from social media posts and was gonna ask you first but you beat him to the punch

he’s gonna take so many pictures (for his own personal collection)

“okay, now let’s make a heart with our hands! cute~! scoot closer to me now. mwah~ got you!”

what a sly guy… and he got it all on camera

he doesn’t spend the whole time taking pictures though. he wants to savor the moment alone with you as well

he is immune to the teasing of the others- they’re probably just jealous he gets to spend 1 on 1 time with you

“am i gonna post the pics on magicam? no way. they’re just for me~!”

Leona

“no.” “pleaseeeee????” “no.”

he says while standing in line and waiting to get on the ride with you.

it’s something to do at least. “beats babysitting the rest of that lot.”

you were gonna try and be flirty and put your head on his shoulder but he beat you to it.

“wake me up when this is over.”

how romantic. leona asleep on you. (っ- ‸ - ς)

for leona though, he actually had a good time. taking a nap on you after a long day of being annoyed by a bunch of herbivores? he enjoys it

he’ll never tell you that though. but you can assume from the faint smile that graces his face as he gets off the ride with you

Jack

ooooo somebody’s tail is wagging

not that he’ll admit that he’s excited or anything. because he’s definitely not.

if you thought trey was awkward get a load of this guy! he’s as stiff as a board and won’t even look at you

“nervous? ‘m not nervous.. there’s not anything to be nervous about.”

sure jack everyone believes you (¬_¬")

if you’re expecting any moves to be made that’s too bad. he won’t even brush against your shoulder.

however, if you make a move he will initially tense up before relaxing somewhat and beginning to enjoy himself

Jade

“how incredibly bold of you.” 

this is all incredibly fascinating to him, human amusement parks, human courting rituals, and of course you’re fascinating as usual.

he’s unsure of what you expect out of this interaction how ever he’ll try his best to live up to your expectations.

he’ll hold your hand, put his arm around your shoulder, allow your head to rest against his shoulder, everything a gentleman would do.

tbh he was a little worried initially when you said you wanted to go on a ride with him but thankfully it wasn’t a thrill ride.

“this is much more fun anyways.”

Floyd

floyd is always up for a new experience: especially with you!

you just pray he doesn’t get bored halfway through and tries to get off

“wowie shrimpy~ you wanna spend time with me alone? can’t promise you’ll come back in one piece.”

he’s joking. (probably) (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

he cannot sit still on the ride

“heyyy why is this thing moving so slow? you said this would be fun. you’re not keeping me entertained at all. you better make it up to me later, kay?”

he’s expecting you to keep him entertained and content so you better not let him down

Kalim

he is beaming from ear to ear

he loves spending time with you!!

and for once jamil isn’t here to tell him ‘leave them alone.’ ‘they have better things to do.’ ‘you can’t take up all their time.’

he so excited he’s physically vibrating while waiting in line

tries to very subtly hold your hand and smiles when you take your hand in his.

he’s very gentlemanly. “it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable if i kissed you, would it?” no matter the answer he’s just happy to be around you

“that was so fun! can we go again? or maybe five more times? please!”

Vil

you think you can casually ask him to go on a romantic ride with him? you’ve got guts, he’ll give you that much

“well… fine. but no pictures. and no telling anyone else about this either. especially rook.”

he looks so refined sitting next to you and under the dimmer light he looks majestic

“i’m not going to kiss you on this.”

HEARTBROKEN ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა

“i’m sure we can find somewhere much more romantic to do that. rather than this gimmicky ride.”

so he didn’t enjoy it… but he still likes you though ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

Lilia

how fun!! he’s never experienced like this before and he’s glad he can experience it with you.

he takes a couple a pictures so that he can show malleus, silver, and sebek later “they’re going to be so jealous of us.”

he’s ancient so he’s aware of how to be romantic and to how to be a gentleman (only if he wants to be though)

he’s extremely flirtatious, he’ll lean in close only to whisper “you know, you’ve got something in your teeth.”

then in the next moment he will entangle his hand with yours and help you out of the ride. he’ll skip back with you to the rest of the group grinning slyly

Fellow

he was definitely not expecting that.

he personally doesn’t care for the tunnel of love, in fact he thinks it’s a little gross. the last thing he wants to see is couples making out.

but he has to keep up the act of gracious host, doesn’t he?

fine. he’ll smile and bare it. he just knows gidel will never let him live it down though.

well at least you are kinda cute. maybe he won’t hate it entirely.

“my, my! you’d like to ride it with me? i’m honored to spend one on one time with such a prestigious scholar such as yourself.”

[poughkeepsie99]

stay gold - dw x fem!reader

warnings! slight mentions of violence, suggestions of depression, mental health, spoilers for 'the outsiders', use of nicknames; sweetheart, sweet girl

word count: 1.5k

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

a/n: hey guys! this is my first fic ever so I'm really nervous to publish this, and also I wrote this at like 1 am... but also formatting was a pain in my ass so I apologize if this is ugly. this is totally random but I recently just rewatched the outsiders AND saw the play on Broadway so now I'm obsessed and can't stop thinking about it. so anyways, here it is!

"c'mon sweetheart," dean groans, turning his head to give you a look as you selected the movie on the screen.

"no, dean, it's my turn to choose, and you agreed to no complaining," you counter, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your lips, eyes locked on the tv as you press play on the screen.

you had a point, and you knew it. it was your and dean's weekly movie night, and as you had said, it was your turn to choose. normally, you chose a movie that you at least somewhat liked, but also knew he would enjoy, that way you would both be happy. but the past couple weeks had been rough, and honestly you just wanted to curl up on the couch and watch something familiar, something comforting.

'the outsiders' had been one of your favorites since you were younger, the brotherhood of the greasers, and just the story in general bringing so much comfort and warmth to you. even though it was inherently a sad movie, it was the good kind of sad. the kind of sad that left an ache in your heart that you could just wallow in instead of the problems in your own crazy fucked up life.

"m'not complaining," dean grumbles, settling back onto the couch, a slight pout on his lips. "just tryna make a suggestion.."

"dean, c'mon, please? just this once, for me?" you ask, turning to look at him with a look that was almost pleading. you were trying to hide how tired you were. how beaten down and defeated the past couple weels of nonstop hunts and constantly being thrown around were making you feel.

dean opened his mouth as if to argue, but he seemed to notice something in your face, and his expression softened. he let out a sigh, placing his arm on the back of the couch and holding out his other one, motioning for you to come closer. "alright, alright, but i don't wanna hear any complaining from you next week when it's my turn."

you simply hum in agreement, scooting closer to him and nestling into his side with a small smile on your face as the familiar opening credits play. dean's arm curls around you, holding you close to him and gently brushing his knuckles over the soft skin of your arm. you lean your head on his shoulder, eyes glued to the screen as you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to relax in the comfort of the moment.

as the movie goes on, you occasionally glance up at dean, surprised to find him thoroughly invested in the film, eyes slightly wide and zoned in on the screen, the glow reflected in his irises.

what you failed to notice, however, was dean doing the same. every so often, his eyes would drift down to you, taking in the way the soft glow of the tv highlighted your features, tracing the curve of your cheek and lips with his eyes. he found himself liking the movie a lot more than he would admit to you, and he could see why you liked it.

his favorite character was dallas, of course, but he also found himself drawn to darry, seeing himself in the eldest curtis brother. the way darry looked out for his brothers reminded dean of his childhood, how he took care of sam the same way. his eyes widened in surprise when ponyboy woke up to johnny having killed bob, and he actually let out a small gasp when the burning church collapsed on poor johnny. he watched eagerly as the greasers prepared for the rumble, secretly cheering for them in his head.

dean's hand never stopped it's comforting movements on your skin, whether it was your arm, or your hip, skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up, he was always touching you in some way, making sure you knew he was still there. dean had noticed that something was off for a while. he hadn't said anything, he was gonna let you come to him when you were ready, but he saw your exhausted, almost crushed expression when you had pleaded with him about the movie, and so he gave in, content with just making you feel better with gentle touches and soft kisses on your temple throughout the movie.

through the emotions going through his head as ponyboy read johnnys letter at the end of the movie, dean heard your soft voice next to him. he looked down, about to ask you to repeat what you said, but then he saw how your eyes were still glued to the tv, your lips moving in time to the characters on the screen.

he smiled, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to you quote the scene, your voice soft and quiet. though the scene kept going, dean couldn't take his eyes off you, the movie just background noise now as his eyes traced over your features that he had memorized many a time, but always found himself wanting to learn again.

finally, when the movie was over, you felt his eyes on you, and you lifted your head, cheeks flushing when you met his intense gaze.

"what?" you ask, your voice barely above a soft whisper.

dean didn't reply right away, his eyes full of adoration and love as he continued to take in your face, his heart beating just a little faster as he noticed the faint blush on your cheeks. "nothin', m'just looking," he mumbles, reaching up his free hand to brush a stray hair from your face.

that only makes your cheeks flush harder, your eyes rolling in faux annoyance, but you lean into his touch slightly, eyes fixed on his.

"did you even watch the movie?" you ask accusingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"i did," he defends, smiling at your reaction to his touch, hand cupping your face and thumb running gently over your cheekbone. "i actually really liked it."

your eyes light up at that, your lips parting softly in surprise as you stare up at him. "you did?"

"mhm. its a good movie. i see why y'like it so much," he says with a gentle shrug, a soft smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"im glad you liked it." you smile widely up at him, your heart warming at the fact that he liked the movie.

dean just smiles softly back down at you, tilting his head down to place a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a heartbeat before leaning his head down and pressing his forehead to yours.

you two stay like that for a moment, eyes closed and just breathing each other in, basking in the rare moment of peace. dean breaks the silence first, opening his eyes to look at you, but not pulling away as he speaks softly, his voice a deep whisper. "m'always here for you, sweetheart. always gonna be here."

you open your eyes to meet his as he speaks, shocked yet again by how well he knows you, how he's able to read you and see that something was wrong. you don't say anything for a moment, lump forming in your throat and your eyes scanning his as if trying to memorize the way the colors swirl in his eyes. your head is telling you to brush off his words, mutter back something about how you know that, and how you're 'fine', but you're just so tired, and you can't bring yourself to.

"thank you," is the quiet whisper that comes from you in response, the sincereness evident in your soft voice, and the emotion written across your face.

dean just pulls you closer with his arm around your shoulders, pressing another kiss to your forehead, tucking you into his neck and resting his chin on your head, holding you close and silently letting you know that he understands.

"never gonna leave you, sweet girl, you've always got me," he mutters into your hair, his other arm coming up to wrap around you, holding you impossibly closer to him.

another older movie comes up on autopilot, one that dean thinks you've both watched before, but he doesn't make any move to stop it, just holding you close, gently rubbing your back and hip until you fall asleep in his arms. when he hears your breaths even out, he turns down the volume of the movie, pressing a kiss in your hair and letting his lips linger, inhaling your scent that smells like home.

"goodnight sweetheart, i love you," he whispers into your hair, even though he knows you can't hear him, and dean doesn't think he's ever meant any words more in his life. he spends the night holding you, and though his back hurts when he wakes up the next morning on the couch, the sight of you, asleep in his arms, expression peaceful, dean just thinks about everything he would give, just to keep you happy.

there it is, my first fic! lmk what u think and please feel free to send in asks/requests on my blog or on the google form linked on my page

tysm for reading and I hope ur having a great day/night! - bri

[bthump]

I see a lot of people acting like Guts was so good to Casca when he admitted he just wanted a side chick. Reading the manga it felt that she was unimportant to him, someone to fuck and throw to the side. Even when he was trying to be there for her it felt so...forced. Like he didn't want to be there at all, why do you think that is?

I think it's a combination of Miura deliberately writing it as a flawed attempt at a relationship in terrible circumstances between two fucked up people that was always kind of a mistake, and like, probably some bad writing as well lol.

Like I think it's supposed to at least come across as sweet and earnest and hopeful at the time. A genuine connection between Guts and Casca. Miura has said in an interview that he wrote their relationship to add more drama to the Eclipse, so presumably the audience is meant to root for them to an extent, so that the Eclipse rape can make the reader even more angry lol.

But I don't think it was ever intended to be true love or even necessarily a good idea on the parts of the characters. When Guts invites Casca along he directly says she might get in the way of what he wants to do (fight strong opponents) so his invitation is conditional. This actually foreshadows Guts abandoning her in a cave to go and fight monsters, because she does get in his way.

Casca also cries when Guts fights Wyald and afterwards tells him to die on his own if he's so insistant about it, so even if she hadn't gone insane she probably would've gotten in the way of his dream to throw himself into danger over and over anyway lol.

On the rescue mission they start getting jealous as they get closer to Griffith. They essentially break up right before the Eclipse starts, Casca telling Guts to leave to pursue his dream while she stays with Griffith.

Judeau puts a lot of energy into trying to get them to hook up and leave together, and it's strongly implied that it's because he doesn't feel like he deserves Casca himself and he wants what he thinks is best for her. But when he dies he regrets never telling Casca about his feelings, and Casca even has a little romantic moment with him after he saves her life, which echoes the way she falls for Griffith and then Guts when they save her life.

And it's kind of jarring when she's already hooked up with the protagonist of the story, and certainly suggests that her relationship with Guts is not exactly all-consuming for them. It's realistically unromantic.

Post-Eclipse, Casca is framed as Guts' responsibility that pulls him away from the more visceral temptation to go after Griffith. And this causes him to nearly kill Casca, and then nearly rape her.

When Casca gets her mind back but can't look at him, Guts swings his sword in frustration and restlessness and thinks about Griffith's intense gaze from across a field. After she gets kidnapped, Guts only seems to care that his sword couldn't hit Griffith.

I could go on lol, but basically there are so many deliberate details that point to Guts and Casca's relationship being intended not as super romantic, but rather a more realistic hookup that isn't necessarily a net positive for either of them. And I do think that's what Miura intended, to a greater or lesser degree. I'm sure it was meant to be somewhat genuine and sweet, but I think they're ultimately shown to be incompatible and like, a trainwreck overall.

And yeah, a lot of Guts' shitty treatment of Casca is definitely deliberate, since after the Eclipse he does abandon her, and later attacks and assaults her, and she's currently traumatized by not just Femto and monsters, but also him.

I've actually written a ton of posts about their relationship and its flaws, so I'll link some in case you're interested in more detailed takes:

This is probably one of the best posts I've written about them imo, about how Judeau and Guts' relationships to Casca are compared and contrasted to highlight some of Guts' flaws.

Guts and Casca's hook up being paralleled to Griffith and Charlotte's hook up in terms of both men trying to repress their feelings about the other.

How Judeau's manipulations reflect on Guts and Casca's relationship.

Visual parallels during the Guts + Casca sex scene that suggest they're both rebounding from Griffith.

My take on Guts wanting to earn Casca's affection in ch 33.

Guts and Casca's relationship as a mistake that contributes to the Eclipse happening.

Guts and Casca's hook up failing to have an impact.

A long list of moments that contradict Guts and Casca's relationship as particularly romantic.

Thanks for the ask!

[yume-fanfare]

many things to unpack here

[lokh]

in a world where the dungeon meshi cast are playing a ttrpg. did shuro just like inexplicably get roped in one day and he just. kept showing up

[luvuomi]

🤍 ꒱ “and the trees were happy…”

─── yuzuha + sethomi but make it omori angst

(🖋️ ) additional note: omori manga had me hyper fixating so bad i decided to cook something small real quick LMAO. of course it’s nothing as soul crushing as the inspiration source itself but it’s still a tad bit angsty ( like a smidge really ). there are also some special mentions of certain individuals as well~ they’ll know when they see hehe

it's been several years since he last set foot on these grounds -- years since he felt a cool wind brush past his cheeks amidst this blazing summer heat while the lush grass below softens his every step. shadows are casted upon the ground from the countless trees standing about, looming over to shroud him in all their grandness that strangely felt like a homecoming. they seemed a lot happier back then… kazuha thinks.

in the distance, a weeping willow comes into view.

at the foot of the tree, he catches a glimpse of something from times bygone. he first sees himself, sat upon a picnic blanket with his friends kunikuzushi and lyney, accompanied by their respective lovers. they all appear to be gathered for a picnic. several delicious foods and pastries scattered about the blanket whilst they all happily conversed about one thing or another.

and then, he sees her. sitting beside him with a hand placed over his as she laughs at something kunikuzushi's lover had remarked about him. her laughter devoid of any sound, and leaving him with only the sight of her smiling face to witness. how he'd long to hear such a melodious laughter once again.

but, there is another as well--one who's figure appears to him as nothing but a blur on the opposite side of her. though, such a sight almost feels intentional. like he'd made sure to forget the appearance of that person a long time ago.

just as quickly as the memory came however, it faded away the closer he drew near.

the carefree individuals disappear into thin air and the red gingham blanket becomes replaced with the sight of a gravestone that has a potted flower placed before it: a lily of the valley. and sitting before that, the mysterious figure from his fragmented memories. except this time, he becomes more visible in kazuha's line of sight.

at the sound of approaching footsteps, the person turns his head around, glancing over his shoulders. upon meeting kazuha's gaze, he doesn't say anything for a moment. merely staring at him with verdant eyes that seemed to have lost their light. like he'd suddenly lost any remaining hope he had left for this world. "for a moment i thought i was seeing a ghost…but it really is you."

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[anantaru]

— cute things they do unintentionally

including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection

— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street

in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.

he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.

so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.

it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.

full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.

and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.

— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet

"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.

"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.

you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.

as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.

"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.

— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you

after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.

as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.

it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.

you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"

neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.

basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"

"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"

he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.

your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.

— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time

it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.

your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.

but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.

what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.

diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.

in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.

to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[maxivstappen]

DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?

[ masterlist / requests closed ]

☽｡⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words

You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.

You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.

You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.

Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?

But that’s where the trouble began.

You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.

Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.

Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.

Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.

He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.

It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

Or so you thought.

The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.

Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.

The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.

Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.

But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.

You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.

Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?

—

Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.

Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?

Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.

But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.

Right?

—

15 missed calls from carlos sainz.

that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.

What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?

Did something happen to your Lando?

Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.

It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.

You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.

You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)² retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

it took a lot of convincing to get him to your little apartment, like trying to move a massive brick wall with a feather. however, in the end, he gave in— not that he had much of a say in the matter, considering the fact that the two of you were already at your home amidst arguing (which, to be fair, was predominantly one-sided as he persistently uttered 'no' in response to all your counterarguments).

in all honesty, you couldn't quite figure out why you were so insistent on having a stranger, especially a strange man, stay with you in your much too tiny apartment. perhaps it was your festive december spirit, the idea of someone being alone during this time of year just didn't sit right with you. besides it was just for the night, then you could take him to the shelter.

he’d been quiet as you set up everything for him, he was imposing, tall, and somewhat scary (primarily due to his skull mask and his overall silent demeanor). but strangely enough, you didn't feel unsafe with him, despite the fact that you probably should have. after all, he was a man, and he undoubtedly outweighed you by at least 100 pounds. killing you and getting away with it would be easy for him. and, why the hell were you contemplating this now, instead of when you first picked him up from the side of the street?

perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with a sense of calm and control that was almost hypnotic. or maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you, yet held a hint of sadness that made you feel a strange sense of empathy toward him. whatever the reason, you found yourself drawn to him.

as you finished setting up the couch, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to decipher his thoughts and emotions. but his expression remained unreadable, his mask hiding any hint of vulnerability or emotion. it was both frustrating and intriguing, making you wonder what secrets lay hidden behind that skull mask.

“um, so the shower is just down the hall, oh! feel free to look through the fridge for something,” you smile awkwardly at the tall man and gesture to your room door, “if you need anything just let me know.” his gaze remains fixated upon the makeshift bed you have prepared, adorned with a spare comforter of a soft, faded hue resembling baby blue, adorned with delicate flowers which sprawls across the expanse of your pull-out sofa.

simon, ever the brooding man, says a small, stiff thank you; ready for you to leave him alone you're sure. wiping your sweaty palms on your denim-clad thighs, you gently press your lips together and affirmatively bob your head. “alright, well, goodnight simon.” without waiting for a response, that you were sure you weren't going to get, you scuttle off to your bedroom, swiftly closing the door and attempting to lock it as quietly as possible. however, the resounding click makes you think he’s heard it.

letting out a weary sigh you slide down your door, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone. with a gentle motion, you begin to skim through your contacts and find your best friend. it rings once, twice before she picks up with a tired hello.

“if i die tonight, i love you.”

you catch the faint sound of her perplexed murmur, followed by the gentle click of her bedside lamp over the phone. it was late, far too late for you to have disturbed her with a call, you knew that— should’ve called your sister or something.

“have you been drinking?”

you give a slight eye roll before curling your legs up to your chest. “no, not yet. anyways, i think i might've done something very dumb," you admit, trailing off as you nervously nibble on the inside of your cheek, feeling the soft flesh give way under your teeth. your friend lets out a quiet grunt. “well? spit it out.”

“so, i picked up a homeless guy on the side of the road and offered him a ride to the shelter but instead i brought him to my apartment and now he’s in my living room, about to sleep on my couch,” you utter quickly— and she's silent for a moment, it's a loud silence, one that makes your heart beat quickly in your chest. you run a hand down your face and take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “say something.” your voice is filled with a mix of impatience and anxiety.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

[phaelimbs]

— He had always expected you to be snarky, sarcastic, and somewhat arrogant. From the moment you entered the gym with that relaxed expression, eyes carefully scanning the events happening across the court, he knew you would be a pain in the ass. Much like Tsukishima who either caught their interest (Kuroo, Bokuto), or annoyed the hell out of them (Kageyama).

A returning manager in Karasuno wasn't exactly the "new member" he had in mind, with Hinata's very detailed description of being good with "pows" and "wham!", and the "sunshine" vibes you apparently radiate, the first thing that came to his mind was a new team player to strengthen the evolving team.

He had to admit, you were pretty. Maybe it wasn't the intimidating aura you reek of that caught his attention, maybe it was the thump of his chest and your whole being that mesmerized him.

Even the other teams shared the same opinion as him. Kiyoko was one serious person they respected, but they felt the energy that you'd put anyone who badmouths your team straight to their grave, all they felt was fear.

He kept looking at you throughout practice matches, much to his dislike. The way you carefully watched the team as they did their warm-ups, all while occasionally looking across the room, locking eyes with him.

It wasn't until Kuroo took the opportunity to walk up to you, interested to know about you like how he was interested to know Tsukishima. Striking up a conversation isn't really his forte (at least, not with someone scary), so he simply watched. And with that, your demeanor changed.

Instead of scowling like they expected, you smiled. A bright, friendly smile stretched across your face as you engaged in a conversation with Nekoma's captain. Fiddling with your hands as you politely answered his questions he himself had been dying to know, he realized you weren't trying to intimidate them, you were just shy.

Hinata was right, you did radiate like sunshine.

And as the evening comes to an end, you'd found yourself talking to others as well, getting along with the other managers and becoming closer with the other members. He's promised to himself to talk to you, atleast once until the Tokyo Training Camp ends, before he loses the opportunity to know you more.

— Akaashi Keiji, Kenma Kozume, Yaku Morisuke

[gam3ov3r]

★. *. ⋆ 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐒𝟓?

﹥ˏ kenma's too addicted to something that isn’t you. 📄 ; just pure fluff, some jealousy (both sides)

kenma's gaming skills were good, there’s no doubt about that. it made you glad that he had a hobby other than volleyball that he loved, and (although less important) it gave you some style points with your friends. but sometimes, you wished that he’d indulge in you rather than that gaming console after a long day.

“kenmaa.” you, rather bored, called. he didn’t even look up. you rolled your eyes. “hey, answer me at least. you’re not deaf.”

he shrugged you off with an “i’m busy,” and continued playing, the sounds of his enemies in game getting obliterated by his character.

you dramatically sighed, getting up off his bed. “and to think i came over just to spend some time with you. i’m never doubting kuroo again when he says that you care more about that console than me,” you put on a pout.

“you know that’s not true.” he replied, albeit contradicting as he kept his focus on the screen. it’s like he didn’t even care.

“whatever, i’m just… gonna go over to kuroo’s.” you mumbled mostly to yourself. he perked up, snapping his head to look at you.

“you’re not actually—?” he stopped when he saw you on your phone, most likely texting. “hey, (y/n)!—”

after finishing up your message, you began to walk out. before your foot stepped out the bedroom door, you felt kenma’s arms wrap around you.

“please don’t leave.”

those were all the words he said. and yet it struck some chord deep inside you like he really, truly meant it.

“but you don’t wanna hang out,” you countered.

“i do,” he said back, “and i don’t want you going over to kuroo’s.”

“why not? he’s my friend.”

instead of answering, he tugged you over to the bed and brought you to a lying position as he tucked himself into you. “just stay,” he whispered, “please.”

you hugged him back, a bit confused at his newfound… needy? clingy? state. it was cute, you’d have to admit. he gripped you harder.

“i never knew you were jealous of me and kuroo.” you somewhat teased.

he buried his head into your neck to avoid answering.

[illyrianbitch]

Words of Affirmation

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

Warnings: established relationship fluff :)

Word Count: 2.3k

just a quick sweet fluffy piece to make up for all my angst. dedicated to the one and only @sarawritestories

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian would never admit it, but the assumptions of his intelligence bothered him. He was always a brute, a mindless warrior, a soldier— nothing more. He knew, deep down, that his brothers rivaled him in all matters of the mind. They were more collected, more capable with familial matters and court affairs. Simply put, they were smarter. 

And he had accepted that— at least, he told himself he had. After all, he was talented where it mattered. He was a good male, a good friend, a good brother, a good commander— and amazing in bed. So truly, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did when his meeting with Eris went sour. 

Cassian entered the room with heavy steps, a frown on his face as he began to peel off his coat, each movement slow and heavy with frustration. A part of him hoped that he could shed more than just the layer of clothing, hoped that coming home would rid him of the insecurity that had threaded itself through his ribs.

You observed him quietly, taking in the way his muscles tensed and released with each motion, the subtle clenching of his jaw, the deep exhale. He hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t made his classic entrance. On most days, Cass would return home with a huge grin, door thrown wide open as he bellowed out your name with a burning heart.

But he was quiet today. And you knew exactly why– you could feel it through the bond. Cassian was sad. 

Your footsteps were quiet against the wood floors as you slowly walked towards him. 

“Things didn’t go well?” 

Your voice was soft and gentle and the sound of it sent a ripple of relief through his body. Still, he felt heavy. Tired. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally discarded his coat onto a nearby chair. “I don’t know how Rhysand does it.”

“Does what?” 

“This whole diplomacy thing, even Azriel. I just… I couldn’t. I'm too stupid for it. Just an idiot.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a heaviness settling on the glowing bond in your chest. You wanted to console him, to fight and kill whatever it was that was unsettling him so deeply. But the thing that was causing Cassian pain wasn’t anything you could fight yourself. It was his own mind, the insecurities he was too afraid to acknowledge. 

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he waved you off with a frustrated gesture.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his tone heavy with defeat, “I’m just whining. I’ll get over it.”

You frowned, letting out a small breath. 

“No, don’t say that,” you said gently, taking a step closer to him. “You’re allowed to be frustrated. But you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not?” 

You took in the sight of your mate for a moment, took in his long hair and brown eyes, took in the stubble on his jaw and the way he let out a small breath. You extended your hand to him, voice low as you murmured, “C’mere, honey.”

He hesitated for a moment before he gently took your hand and closed the distance between you, large arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you. 

“You are a big ole’ dummy,” you teased lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you put your hands around his neck. You felt Cassian melt into your touch ever so slightly, eyes shuttering closed as a small hum left his lips. “But you are brilliant. Like really fucking smart.”

Cassian’s eyes opened to meet yours, somewhat narrowed in skepticality. You rubbed the nape of his neck with your thumbs. 

“I mean, you’re a war general. You’ve commanded hundreds of soldiers, have won countless battles– wars, even. You couldn’t get away with those things as an idiot.”

Cassian grumbled, but you caught the hint of a smile dancing in his stormy eyes, felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. A wry chuckle bubbled up from deep within him as he shook his head, his lips quirking up in a brief smile.

“Well, I don’t know about that one, we have Beron and Tam-”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Would you just let me compliment you?” You interrupted with a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows raised as you looked at him. 

A soft chuckle escaped him. “My bad.”

“You are so incredibly smart,” you repeated earnestly, slightly pulling him down and urging him to place his forehead against yours. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze heavy as he searched for something in your eyes. He seemed to find it as he gave you a small smile. “You really think so?”

You pulled yourself back gently, dropping your hands from his neck to take his in your own. Then, you gently guided one hand to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

“Does it feel like I’m lying?” you asked softly.

Cassian’s expression softened as his gaze flickered to where your hand held his. You watched as a glow of warmth lit up his eyes. 

“No,” he said quietly, “It does not.”

And then he was bringing his hands to hold your face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly, his lips a gentle caress against yours.

He wasn’t sure if he believed it yet, if he was comfortable enough with considering himself to be smart, let alone brilliant. But you, his beautiful mate, the love of his life— you thought he was smart, you thought he was brilliant.

And truly, that's all that mattered to him. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn’t that he was insecure about his looks, no, that wasn't it. 

Cassian knew he was attractive, knew that he was hot and ruggedly handsome. He knew from the looks that he got from females and males alike, from the scent changes that he caused, and the lovers he had bedded. 

But sometimes, when standing next to Rhysand and Azriel,  Cassian would catch himself wondering if he was rough around the edges in ways that his brothers were smoother, more appealing. After all, they were the two more classically pretty males, the more softly attractive and very often audibly complimented. 

And then there was him, the rough warrior. 

Attractive, yes, but pretty? Elegant? Those were never words used to describe him. 

There was a soft glow in your room tonight, gentle shadows casted across the bed from flickering fae light. Cassian let out a deep sigh as he prepared to climb into bed, his muscles aching and head heavy as he shed the remenands of his day. 

You watched him with a tender gaze as you lay on the bed. The faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. Cass caught your gaze with his own, a warm hearty brown that made your heart flutter. 

A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed your lingering stare. "You like what you see, sweetheart?" 

You grinned, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you tilted your head. "Always.”

With a grin of his own, Cassian began to crawl towards you. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Admiring how absolutely handsome I am?” he said, “How Incredibly sexy?" 

You let out a small laugh as he reached your face, his body hovering over yours. With a gentle hand, you pushed back his tousled hair, your touch feather-light against his skin. A soft sigh escaped him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the warmth of your touch. His lips wore a content smile. 

"So beautiful," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you traced the contours of his face with your fingertips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes scanned your face. You ran your finger along the crease that they created. "Beautiful?" 

You nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Yes, beautiful. Maybe I don't tell you enough."

He chuckled softly as he leaned into your touch, heart swelling with warmth at your words. There was a new flutter in his chest that he didn’t recognize. For a moment, Cassian felt shy— he wasn’t quite sure why. But he laughed it off all the same. 

"That's a word reserved for you, sweetheart." 

You shook your head, your fingers trailing down his cheek to cup his face in your hands. "My beautiful mate,” you whispered, "My handsome, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, and beautiful mate." 

For the first time in a while, Cass was stunned, unable to respond as quickly as he was used to. Your words held a certain reverence to them, a sincerity that made him melt into your touch— made him melt into your voice itself. Before you, Cassian never knew himself as something gentle, as something capable of softness and sensitivity. But here he was before you, in all of his warrior glory, feeling like a child with a playground crush. And there you were, staring at him like he was the most exquisite thing you’d ever laid eyes on. So when words failed him, Cassian did the only thing he saw fit. 

He leaned in to kiss you tenderly, bringing his lips to yours softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, feeling his warmth against you as he smiled into the kiss. From deep within your chest, you felt a glow— a deep, ethereal, and overwhelming glow. 

Beautiful, his mind echoed, beautiful. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a soft sigh as you settled onto the couch with Cassian, pushing yourself further into his warm chest as he wrapped an arm around you. You’d spent the night at the River House, drinking more wine than you could handle and eating almost all of Elain's sweet desserts. There was a smile on your face as your eyes closed, your hearing quickly tuning into the heartbeat of your mate below you. 

You frowned when the sound began to quicken, echoing like a drum in your ears. You pushed yourself up, slightly turning your body and placing a hand on Cassian's chest. When you looked up at him, his face was scrunched, his gaze distant as if lost in contemplation.

Cassian wore a specific face when he was troubled, furrowed brows and a downturn of his lips. He wore it was he was sad or frustrated, when he had thoughts that plagued him at night. The face before you was a troubled one, indeed. But it was less rough than the others he bore, more vulnerable.

You slightly tapped against him with your palm. Cassian blinked at the sensation, then he slowly looked down to meet your eyes with his own. You let your chin fall gently on his chest. 

“What's wrong?”

Cassian managed a smile, shaking his head as he brought his hand to run over your hair. “Nothing.”

You frowned. “Tell me.”

For a moment, Cassian’s thoughts traveled again. Mor’s laugh echoed in his mind, wine glass in hand as she pointed at him. You have the subtlety of a war horn. You’re so loud I can hear you across Prythian. I don’t know how Y/n handles it all the time.

"Am I too loud?" 

His voice came out rushed, drenched in a tinge of what you could only describe as worry— even doubt.

A flicker of surprise passed through your features. “What?”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Mor said something tonight, it just got me thinking.”

“Mor says a lot of things. Especially when she's drunk.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement, tongue running across his teeth before he let out another sigh. “But she had a point tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

He took a moment to take you in, to trace the features of your face with his eyes. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through your hair. 

“Maybe I am too loud.”

Cassian's voice was defeated now, lips naturally falling into a frown. The crease between his eyebrows was still there as he peered down at you, hand still caressing your head.

You stared at him for a moment before you responded. "You're so loud." 

A flicker of disappointment crossed Cassian's face. But before the thought could spread through his mind, a soft smile graced your features. You gave his chest a small kiss. “But I love it. So very much.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up, a sense of release evident in his features as his lips curved into a smile. The crease between his eyebrows faded. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you affirmed, your voice filled with a sincerity that made his heart flutter. "My world would be too quiet without you."

Cassian’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently swiping loose strands away from your forehead. “Yeah?” 

You nodded against him, chin still resting on his chest. “I hear everything I love in your voice.”

He smiled, the bond deep within him singing as he stared at you. He felt you tug at it, felt a roll of warmth run through his body— something gentle, something loving. And for a minute, Cassian could have cried at the sensation, could have cried at the way you looked at him, at how happy he felt. 

With his heart swelling, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice filled with a depth of emotion that he couldn’t quite express in words. He hoped that you could sense it, that you would hear those words and know everything he was trying to say— that you would understand just how much you meant to him, how your love filled him with a sense of peace and belonging he never knew he needed.

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his now steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know,” you said, “You practically scream it from the heavens.”

Cassian let out a deep laugh, the sound reverberating through his chest. You felt his body move from under you, felt as the sound caressed you like a pair of warm hands. 

As his laughter subsided, Cassian pulled you closer to him. “I’ll keep shouting it so you’ll always hear it,” he whispered.

A warmth spread through you at his words, a feeling of love so strong it was tangible through that sacred tie that connected you.

“And I’ll keep listening.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

me not writing angst?? (i’m about to write the most gut wrenching pieces ever) unheard of. but we love a sweet established relationship <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

[jmliebert]

☆ astarion x shy!virgin ☆

oh, this one I adore...

think of Astarion at the beginning of your journey. he's restless, looking for someone he could effortlessly manipulate—someone who could be of use to him

some silly little creature like yourself, delightfully naive, shy, with cheeks that turn crimson every time he says something even slightly wicked

one of the first nights, Astarion was feeling so weak and sooo thirsty...he simply had to taste you. he needed to sink his fangs into your lovely skin, but you caught him and his body froze for a second shit

yet, instead of killing him (or at least trying to), you gave him a hesitant permission to drink from you. as he knelt before you, sinking his fangs into your delicious neck, he realised for a sweet, little moment that you were perfect—so good for him, your body beneath his, at his utter mercy

it did things to him, things he didn't yet understand

from that moment, Astarion's gaze was firmly fixed on you. he began to test the waters, offering playful flirtations, and your responses were utterly endearing...you were shy, deliciously shy, but it was clear you wanted him. everyone desired him, naturally, and you were no exception

or maybe you were?

as the two of you conversed more and more, he found himself increasingly drawn to you, though he wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself. he took pleasure in how effortlessly he could provoke you, especially when your eyes darted away under the intensity of his lustful gaze

it was clear you hadn't had much experience, so he took his time with you, careful not to scare you, as he needed to keep you close

or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself—an excuse, really. the truth was he truly enjoyed the slowness of it all

he gave you small but very deliberate touches, soft smiles, sweet words. oh god, he was really good with his words

Astarion felt a thrill when you were dancing around each other like this, clearly desiring one another, yet hesitating to act on those desires

it felt incredibly liberating to take his time with you, moving slowly. it felt so different from the hellish existence he once knew, of fucking senselessly

one night, when you were particularly lovely, nestled in his arms and slightly tipsy from wine, you told him you were a virgin

"a virgin, you say?"

well, as it was said before, it wasn't hard to tell you lacked experience, but Astarion surely didn't expect you to have none at all

if he didn’t already have such a strong feelings for you, he might have laughed. instead, he found your innocence endearing and oddly hot?

questions filled his mind: how did you manage it, why had you remained untouched, what was it like? and pondering these questions like that made him unexpectedly melancholic

mindfull even

so his touches were gentle, his kisses soft and reassuring. you were holding your hands a lot—an experience as new for you as it was for him

truthfully, it seemed that you both were discovering your sexuality together for the first time

Astarion would find his feelings for you deepening, and though it was complicated, and fucking scary, he couldn’t imagine being without you, although it might seem somewhat pathetic it was the truth

and he wanted to keep you safe, as you kept him

when the moment felt right—ideally after Cazador—his longing for you would be undeniable, and his neediness would be more apparent than ever

he would press his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss...then moving to your neck...then down to your collarbone, exploring every inch of your lovely skin

Astarion would took his time, making sure you felt every sensation, every touch, every kiss, every hooded look

he genuinely wanted to make this feel just... right, for both of you

his fingers would work wonders, his voice husky with desire

"so perfect. do you feel good, darling? tell me, does this feel good?"

he was very attentive to communication, eager to hear that you were enjoying every moment

his fingers would found your core, sliding in and out with a rhythm that made you go completely feral

after, what felt like a lifetime, he would slowly push the tip of his cock into your wet insides, stretching you gently

"Gods, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust

and then more of the same questions would occur; "do you like this? does it feel good?"

and then; "you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?

oh my

his hips would move with a skilful rhythm, each thrust precise and perfectly timed. and as you reached the peak of your pleasure, he would bite your neck so beautifully displayed by you, his fangs sinking into your willing body

Astarion had fantasised about this moment for so long you see—being inside you while drinking your warm, delicious blood. it was undeniably erotic and felt indescribably amazing

after a few more of his tender thrusts, accompanied by sweet words and eager hands, your climax would overwhelm you, making you see star

as you clenched so deliciously around him, he felt an overwhelming urge to quicken his movements. he yearned to thrust harder, but he held back, mindful of it being your first time

yet! as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer and encouraging him to move harder, he found it impossible to resist. your touch spurred him on, making him lose himself a little in the overwhelming pleasure and that's exactly what you wanted

his rapid thrusts, the feel of your warm blood flowing in his body and your tight wetness around him made his own release inevitable

he came with a deep groan, his eyes shut tight, his cock throbbing inside you

it felt so good he was literally trembling

despite his attempts to hide it, he was clearly touched by its intensity of it all. he held you tightly, wrapping you in an affectionate and soothing hug and for once he didn't utter a single word, there were no need to

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about astarion ♡here♡

also! my halsin x shy!virgin headcanons are right here...

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Not a Golfer, Just a Guy in Love | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Charles has no business on a golf course, but he’s willing to lose every ball (and his dignity) if it means getting her attention

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

check out my other works: Masterlist

Carlos leaned back in his chair, idly spinning a golf ball between his fingers as he glanced at you with a grin. “Alright, hermana, tomorrow morning? New golf course, 9 AM sharp?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Carlos, we both know you’ll show up at least fifteen minutes late.”

“Not this time!” he declared. “This course is legendary. Plus, you need the practice.”

“Oh, so now I’m the one who needs practice?” You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. “Last time, I recall someone missing the hole five times in a row.”

Lando snickered from across the table, catching the end of the conversation. “Five times, Carlos? At this rate, maybe I should join to show you both how it’s done.”

Carlos threw him a mock glare. “Fine, come along, then. Just don’t cry when I show you up.”

“Sure thing, mate,” Lando replied, folding his arms with a smirk.

Charles, sitting nearby and pretending to read a magazine, couldn’t help but eavesdrop. He tried to keep his cool, but every time you were around, it was a little harder than he’d like to admit. And now here you were, laughing and planning a whole day with Carlos and Lando.

He cleared his throat, stepping over as casually as he could manage. “Hey, so… golf tomorrow, huh?”

Carlos looked up, surprised. “Yep. Why?”

“I was just, uh, thinking,” Charles replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe I could join you guys.”

Carlos exchanged a glance with Lando, one eyebrow raised. “You? play golf?”

“Yes, I want to play golf,” Charles said, trying to sound like he wasn’t feeling a bit defensive.

Lando let out a small laugh. “Didn’t you once call golf ‘slow torture’?”

“That was a joke,” Charles shot back. “I’m serious. I want to come.”

Carlos looked skeptical. “Right… I mean, you’re welcome, but don’t blame us if it doesn’t go well.”

Charles shrugged, keeping his face neutral. “I’ll be fine.”

The next morning, Charles showed up at the course looking like he’d just stepped out of a golf magazine—crisp polo, checkered pants, even a visor.

Lando barely stifled a laugh. “Who let you dress for the occasion?”

Charles ignored him, glancing over at you. You shot him a smile, making the whole get-up feel somewhat worth it. “I, uh, thought I’d try to look the part.”

Carlos shook his head, trying to hide a grin. “Alright, Lord Percival, let’s see if you can play the part too.”

Charles rolled his shoulders, looking toward the first hole with as much focus as he could muster. He approached the tee, adjusted his grip, tried to channel every golf tip he’d seen on youtube last night—and took the shot.

The ball barely moved, skittering a few feet in front of him.

Lando’s laugh echoed through the course. “Great form, mate. Maybe take a little less ‘concentration’ next time?”

Carlos clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Charles clenched his jaw, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left. “It was just the first shot,” he muttered. “Just warming up.”

The next hole wasn’t any better. Charles lined up the shot with as much precision as possible, determined not to make a fool of himself this time.

He swung with a bit too much force—the ball shot out in the wrong direction, rocketing just past Carlos, who ducked, wide-eyed.

Carlos straightened up, hands on his hips as he shot Charles a look. “Are you trying to kill me, or is this your idea of revenge for something?”

Charles cringed, face flushed. “That one… got away from me.”

Lando was practically doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes. “A little? That ball was gunning for Carlos’s head!”

You, meanwhile, gave Charles an encouraging smile. “Hey, at least you’re putting a lot of power into it.”

Charles managed a small, sheepish smile. “Right. Just need to aim better.”

By the third hole, Charles was already looking worse for wear. Sand stuck to his pants, his hair was a mess from the visor, and he’d lost count of how many near-misses he’d had.

Carlos nudged Lando, grinning. “Maybe we should get him a map, just so he can find the right direction.”

“Or a helmet for the rest of us,” Lando added, smirking.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling more than a little defeated. “You two are hilarious,” he muttered, pulling his visor off and running a hand through his hair.

You gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re doing fine. Just… maybe think about where you want the ball to go before you swing.”

“Trust me, I am,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. But the look you gave him was enough to pull a half-smile from him. He was feeling like an absolute disaster out here, but somehow, your encouragement made it all seem less embarrassing.

On the final hole, Charles finally managed to get a decent shot in… except that it went straight for the trees, ricocheted off a branch, and landed almost exactly where it had started.

Carlos was in tears. “Charles, Lord Percival, please stop. I don’t think I can handle any more of this.”

Lando patted Carlos on the back, barely holding back his laughter. “Maybe golf really is slow torture for him.”

Charles sighed, looking down at the golf club in defeat. He glanced over at you, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

But you just grinned, nudging his arm. “You know what, I think i've had enough golf for one day”

He looked at you, blinking. “Wait, really?”

You nodded, looking at Carlos and Lando, who were now fully engrossed in trash-talking each other’s swings. “Yep. And since they’re busy, maybe we should… escape?”

His expression brightened. “Escape?”

“Yeah,” you replied, shooting him a playful look. “We could go get ice cream or something and leave them to their nonsense.”

Charles chuckled, offering you his arm. “Now that sounds like something I can actually do.”

You and Charles settled on a bench a little away from the green, watching Carlos and Lando trying to one-up each other’s swings. The peacefulness of the ice cream break was a much-needed relief after Charles’s disastrous attempt at playing, and the two of you chuckled quietly as Carlos threw his arms up dramatically over a missed shot.

After a few moments, you glanced at Charles, breaking the silence. “So, be honest… why’d you really want to come today?”

He looked startled, caught in the middle of a spoonful. “What—me?” he stammered, almost dropping his ice cream. “I mean… golf looked… fun?”

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Golf looked fun?”

“Okay,” he admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. “Maybe it’s not exactly my thing.”

“Not exactly?” you teased. “Charles, I’m pretty sure you nearly took Carlos out on the second hole. It’s okay to say you’re not a golf person. especially since in all the years I've known you I’ve never seen you voluntarily pick up a golf club before today”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s more than just that.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, waiting for him to go on.

Charles seemed to wrestle with himself, glancing away and then back at you, his cheeks a little pinker. “It’s just… I always see you out here with Carlos and thought, maybe if I… tagged along, we’d get to… you know… hang out a bit.”

You stared at him, surprised. “You… wanted to come just to spend time with me?”

He gave a small, almost embarrassed smile, nodding. “Yeah. Kind of.”

A blush crept over your cheeks. You looked down at your ice cream, trying not to grin too obviously. “You didn’t have to put yourself through this just for that, you know,” you said softly, glancing back at him.

Charles fumbled, looking even more awkward. “I didn’t know what else to do… You’re always out here with Carlos. And, I don’t know, I thought maybe… if I didn’t make a complete fool of myself, you’d… notice.”

You laughed softly, heart fluttering a bit at the admission. “Trust me, I noticed.” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “But honestly… I’m only here because Carlos insists. He’d drag me out here even if I showed up in pajamas.”

He looked at you, surprised. “Wait—you don’t even like golf?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Not at all. But he acts like I’ll be abandoning him if I say no.”

Charles blinked, looking a bit stunned. “So you’re telling me I didn’t have to go through all of… this?” He gestured to the course in mock agony, earning a laugh from you.

“Not even a little bit,” you said, nudging him. “If I’d known you wanted to hang out, we could’ve done something… less painful.”

He let out a sigh, putting his head in his hands with a dramatic groan. “Great. So I’ve made a total fool of myself and I didn’t even have to.”

You giggled, gently patting his shoulder. “You’re not a fool. Just… maybe a bit misguided.” You took a breath, glancing at him shyly. “But… it’s kind of sweet that you went through all this just to spend time together.”

He looked at you with a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You felt your heart pound a little faster, fighting the urge to look away. “I mean, it’s… actually really cute.”

Charles seemed to brighten, his smile turning a bit bashful. “I’m glad you think so. Because, well… I was actually kind of hoping… maybe we could do something else? Just the two of us?”

Your heart flipped, and you felt yourself flush. “Like… a date?”

Charles swallowed, his face a deep shade of pink, but he met your gaze. “Yeah. A date.”

A smile spread across your face, and you nudged him gently. “I’d like that.”

He grinned, looking so relieved you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just promise it won’t involve golf?” he asked, giving you a playful, hopeful look.

“Deal,” you replied, grinning. “Maybe next time, we can do something we’re both good at.”

As you both sat there, sharing quiet laughs and stealing glances at each other, Carlos and Lando’s loud arguing over putts became just background noise. For the first time all day, Charles felt like maybe things were going exactly the way they were supposed to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[crescenthistory]

hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either. 

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too. 

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school. 

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision. 

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms. 

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face. 

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.” 

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days. 

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry. 

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later. 

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt. 

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down. 

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat. 

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble. 

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed. 

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically. 

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you. 

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.” 

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.