summary — you only ever call him lohen. it's not a big deal...but it's starting to bother him.
themes — established relationship, librarian!reader, jealous!lohen, flustered!lohen, kisses on the clock, reader teases lohen a bit, fluff, minor reference to lohen can't communicate but you don't have to read that to read this, couple banter as always
WC: 800
Lohen was not a jealous man.
“Here’s the book you asked for, Theo,” you said as you passed him a thick medical textbook from behind the counter. “Please return it by the fifth of next month.”
From his perch against the southern bookcases, Lohen watched you with his arms crossed over his chest. In his right hand, he held his favorite blade, twirling it around his finger until the hilt pressed into his palm, then twirling it around again. The soft sound of his knife hitting the fabric of his glove was quick to fill the space around him, which had returned to near silence yet again after Theodore’s departure.
You walked past him with a stack of books in your hands, giving him a glance. “Can you put that away, please?”
He sighed through his nose. Slotting his dagger back into its sheath, he pouted dejectedly at your back. You didn’t pay him a shred of attention, instead focusing on your duties of restocking the bookshelves and rearranging any misplaced codices.
Lohen sighed aloud. When you still didn’t turn around, he sighed yet again. Sighing so hard and so repetitively that he was nearly going dizzy from it, you eventually turned around with a smile that didn’t match the glare in your eyes.
“What is it, Lohen?”
Lohen. It was always ‘Lohen’ with you. But with Theodore, it was ‘Theo’.
“Nothing,” he said, his shoulders rising in a shrug. “Nothing at all.”
You stared at him for a moment, then eventually frowned. Your voice was gentle. “You look upset.”
“Upset? I’m not upset.” Lohen shrugged again, glaring down at the wood floor. “What would make you think I’m upset?”
Your hands directed his face to yours. He ignored the flush of warmth that it sent through his cheeks, and tried further to ignore the sudden thrill in his chest. When you smiled, he swallowed his nerves.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly.
“N-nothing,” he answered, his hands rising to your wrists. “It’s nothing, really. I’m fine.”
“If you were fine you would have been using your cryo-infused hand to scare me when my back was turned,” you laughed. Softening your voice, you said, “Please, just talk to me. I don’t want you to be upset, Lohen.”
The way your thumbs brushed over his cheeks felt all too tender. Smiling rather awkwardly, he squeezed your wrists between his fingers.
“We started at ‘Vice Captain’,” he said, “and then we got to ‘Lohen’. But we never got much farther past that.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Theodore. Theodore is ‘Theo’. But me? I’m ‘Lohen’.”
“Well, that’s your—...oh,” you said inquisitively, your eyes widening. “I see what you mean. You want me to give you a nickname?”
“It doesn’t…have to be a nickname,” he babbled, feeling oddly out of his element as he did. “I mean, I call you Bun and Princess. But you only ever call me ‘Lohen’, even though I know you call other people shorter names and stuff.”
“I’ll call you whatever you want me to, Lohen. How does handsome sound?”
Your arms looped around his neck, and as you smiled with those half-lidded eyes of yours, Lohen’s nervous laughter burst from his lips. Staring at you with wide eyes and a face so hot, he was convinced his vision had flipped to pyro, he quickly said, “That’s a lot more embarrassing than I thought it would be.”
“Hm?” You tilted your head, staring down at his mouth as you grinned. “What, you don’t like that, sweetheart?”
“Fuck,” Lohen stammered, his eyes shifting around the library. “Bun, quit.”
“But honey,” you purred, the heat of your breath tickling his upper lip. “You’re the one who wanted me to call you something different. You mean you don’t like it?”
“I’m gonna kill you,” he answered, his grin hurting his face. “Stop it.”
“Oh, but, baby. You look like you like it.”
“Let’s just…let’s just go back to Lohen.”
You laughed, and with a chaste press of your mouth to his, he laughed back. He glanced around once more, ensuring the library was as empty as ever before throwing his arms around your hips. Backing you into the bookshelf, his grinning lips pressed against yours before he gave you a playful little nibble.
“I’m working,” you laughed.
“Take a five minute break,” he crooned.
“Vice Captain,” you murmured. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”
“Oh, yeah? That so, Library Girl?”
The way you giggled tickled his ears. He pressed his lips to your cheek, peppering kisses against the corner of your mouth as you laughed and laughed and laughed.
“Lohen,” you said, ever so dearly. “You know I just like the sound of your name, right?”
He cracked a smile.
“You know, whenever you say it, Bun…I like the sound of it too.”
a/n: i've seen lots of cute nicknames for lohen out there, and thought to myself, why don't I ever write him one? like, i usually do for some of my other genshin dudes... so i wrote this as a self-indulgent theory xD
anyway, if you liked this drabble, please consider leaving a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡
if you would like to be tagged whenever i post lohen x reader, please check my rules here! thank you!
i was tagged! what post did i miss?
a familiar scent, lohen quickie, 18+ only
(it was also SHADOWBANNED so people not on my taglist probably missed it too T_T)
masterlist | ask | ao3 | more of this pair
Remy’s always had to prove himself. To the Thieves’ Guild, to the X-Men, and now to you, as a lover. Remy does so much good to make up for his past and you’re having none of it. You make him relax, lay back while lazily riding him, wiping the tears rolling down his stubbled cheeks. The flirtatious Casanova? That’s Gambit. The weeping, whimpering, whining man singing your praises, babbling thank you’s? That was your Remy.
I want an older woman to take complete control of me, someone calm, confident, and cruel in the gentlest way. The kind of woman who cups my face in her hands, calls me her good girl in that low, velvety tone that makes my whole body ache.
She’d sit me in her lap just because she can, because she likes the weight of me there, soft and needy, pressed against her. Her fingers would wander lazily, touching wherever she pleased, like I’m hers to explore. And I am.
She’d tilt my chin up and smile like she knows every dirty thought in my head, because she put them there. Her hand would slide around my throat, light but firm, grounding me in her control as I melt into her touch.
"You’re such a sweet little thing," she’d whisper. "So easy to handle. So desperate to behave for me."
And I would be. I'd sit there and take whatever she gives me – her hands, her words, her attention – completely pliant in her arms, soaking in every bit of affection and control like it's the only thing that matters.
I just want to be hers. Soft, obedient, aching, and kept.
Please, universe. Send me a woman who wants to hold me down and make me feel like I was made to belong to her.
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