he's got long fingers and his hands are really warm
and you just can't keep your eyes off the veins running from his arm to his hands
Remus knows this
but he doesn't know if you know he knows
it's not exactly a secret though
you hold his hand whenever you get the chance
all of Hogwarts can see you walking down the halls with your fingers entwined with his
or during class
your professors have made remarks about it many times
but you both always insist it helps you focus
its really not a lie
"Mr. Lupin, Ms. (y/l/n)! Trust me, you'll be much more capable in making potions if you have both hands free."
Remus looks up from the book he's holding open with his left hand, his right clasped in yours, and blinks innocently up at Slughorn. "But Professor, I do my best work with one hand-"
Professor Slughorn puts a hand in his coat pocket and glances between you and your boyfriend. You hide a smile by busying yourself arranging the ingredients by color, and you miss the miniscule upturn of your teacher's lips.
"Well, we'll see how your potion turns out. Mr. Black, perhaps you'd like to consider investing more attention in your potion instead of in your classmates' love life." With these remarks, he moves on to the next desk.
Sirius Black, ever the rebel, leans over and whispers conspiratorially with a smirk, "If you keep this up, you might even beat Marlene and Dorcas in being voted 'most likely to get marri-'"
He's cut off by Remus smacking him with the book in his left hand.
sometimes you also just use his hands as a heating pad
like when your own are cold
or when you're having period cramps
just grab your boyfriend's hands
he doesn't mind one bit
even if it sometimes results in... unexpected reactions
bonus though: it comes with cuddles
There's something about being snuggled up to your partner that eases the pain of periods. Maybe it's magic, maybe it's psychological... you don't know what it is, but when you're menstruating, Remus already knows he may be dragged over to hold you until you feel better.
That's how you find yourself in this position, sitting between your boyfriend's legs with his hands pressed to your belly, the warmth easing your discomfort just enough to have you sighing in content. Remus has his textbook open next to him, but turns his head every so often to press a kiss to your cheek where you rest your head against his shoulder.
"Moony, McGonagall said- woah! Lovebirds, get a room!" Sirius slaps a hand over his eyes the moment he sees how his friend's hands are up your shirt, a second too soon to notice said friend's deadpan glare.
"She's on her period, you twat. Get your head out of the gutter, Pads, what'd McGonagall say?"
"Yeah, yeah. Have fun, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't. Or... anything Lily wouldn't." With a wink at the both of you, he's out the door again, ignoring Remus' deep sigh before he kisses you in apology.
another thing you love to do with his hands is kissing them when he least expects it
or anytime, really
just a soft kiss to his knuckles or his palm
you think its adorable how he gets flustered
no matter how many times you do it
he can never hide his grin
maybe you're a little in love with his hands
but he thinks he quite likes it
its cute to watch you tracing the scars over his hands
or to watch you playing with his fingers while you cuddle
So, I know I’ve been saying for awhile that I’ve been on a break for the sake of my mental health - which is totally true because it’s been trash this whole time lmao - but I also have to be honest about my relationship with AoS. I haven’t wanted to admit it, but I’ve become more and more convinced that my love for it died at the end of Season 5 with Fitz and Coulson. And, combined with the fact that I wasn’t doing great mental health wise at the time, they just became so interconnected because I was so absolutely invested in AoS that it took a lot out of me when things didn’t go the way I thought they would on the show. I did still watch Season 6 - and I did enjoy it! Just not on the scale that I used to, of course, but I enjoyed it regardless.
This season, however, I just...haven’t been invested from the beginning. For the first time since I started watching AoS, I haven’t minded whether I watch live anymore, I don’t mind if I see spoilers, and honestly, I’m several weeks behind now and don’t imagine I’ll catch up anytime soon. I just...can’t help feeling that this is no longer the show that I fell in love with all those years ago, and they’ve simply put me through too much emotionally as a viewer for me to feel the same way about it. Personally, I’m more than happy believing that AoS ended after Season 5 or 6, because this just...idk hasn’t been my show this year. And I know some people are really enjoying it, and I’m really happy for them that they are!! I think that’s great!! But, just for me personally, I’m not there and I don’t know that I ever will be again. I haven’t wanted to admit that, because I know that I have unfinished fics and unanswered prompts and I literally think about them all the time, but I’m not sure that I’ll ever find that love for AoS that I once had, and it makes me really, really sad to think it, let alone say it.
Even more than that, though, it makes me sad because the AoS fandom was the first and only place that I’ve ever felt comfortable enough to contribute and be a part of the community, and everyone has been so incredibly kind and welcoming, and I can’t thank you all enough for that!! It’s meant so much to me, and always will. I’m sorry that I had to check out of the fandom so abruptly, and that I left unfinished fics behind because there’s literally nothing worse than that. I mean, who knows? Maybe someday I’ll manage to suddenly find that love for AoS again and have the drive to finish those fics, but as of right now, I can’t see that happening. I just wanted to be honest with everyone about that now that I’ve finally accepted where I stand on the show.
I really, really am sorry about all of this, and I know that I can’t help how I feel, but at the same time I truly do feel terribly guilty. Still, just know that this show and this fandom will absolutely always have such a special place in my heart. Thank you all so very, very much, it’s truly been such a wonderful time experiencing this show with you, and I will never forget it ♥♥♥
(This doesn’t mean that I’m leaving tumblr btw, even if I probably still won’t be very active, I’ll still be here!)
A/N: don't worry, the requests are coming too! just enjoy this in the meantime!
It was just a simple compliment.
You're wrapped in your boyfriend's arms, comfy and half dozing off as Remus tells you, at your own request, all about the latest book he's read. There's a blanket partially draped over the both of you, an incredibly soft, fluffy one he brought with him when you moved in together, and you're content. Happy.
At some point, Remus stops talking, having told you everything he could possibly think to say on the subject, and you fall into a comfortable silence. His warm hand runs gently up and down your arm, his lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and as you snuggle just the tiniest bit closer to him, you feel him murmur the words before you hear them.
"You're so fuckin' pretty, my darlin'. Merlin, I love you so much."
It's just a simple compliment. An utterance of love. You know how he sees you, you know he makes sure to tell you how much you mean to him at least once a day, so why does this moment, why do these words affect you so much more?
It's just a simple compliment. Remus is understandably concerned at the hitch in your breath, the way you tense slightly in his hold, and the emotions swimming in your eyes when he tilts your chin up to catch your gaze. You hate how your heart skips a beat at his featherlight touch on your skin, how your mind whispers to you that this isn't real, that you're undeserving, that you could never be enough.
"Hey, dove, what's wrong?"
The first response he gets is no more than a shrug and a small sniffle. And then you speak in what may just be the tiniest voice he's ever heard.
"Don't know. You just... sounded like you really meant it." And I can't imagine why, is the part you don't say out loud.
Remus knows all too well what it's like to feel undeserving of love. Hell, he's had this reaction to you many a time, spent months even trying to chase you away, convince you he was no good for you, that you could do better. And the idea you might feel the same way about yourself all but breaks his heart.
"Oh, sweetheart. 'Course I meant it." He pulls you close again, into his warm embrace which is still the safest place you know, especially with the way one of his hands cradles the back of your head. "Of course I meant it. I always do, darlin'. Did I ever give you a reason to doubt it?"
"No," you sigh with a small shake of your head, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt because above all, you still crave the comfort and intimacy only his touch can bring, and you both know you're telling the truth. "No, you didn't do anything. You're wonderful, it's just... hard to really believe sometimes."
Remus knows exactly how that feels. All he does is pull you in closer, hold you tighter to his body, as if he can shield you from those cruel thoughts and feelings.
" 's okay," he murmurs, a soft whisper into your hairline. "Try to believe it, dove, because I'm here to stay. And I'll prove it to you, over and over. Enough times until your mind and your heart realize nothing can take me from you."
💋: I'd like one with with Sirius black! And the number... 58!!!
Congratulations to you on hitting 200! That ought to be a big achievement! I love your work BTW! Keep going!
Show Me
Pairing: Sirius Black x reader
Prompt: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed
Word count: 678
Warning: suggestive content, implied smut
A/N: im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever 😅 trying to stretch my writing muscles by doing a few blurbs before i write the longer requests, thought i'd clear out my inbox while im at it! whoever you are, anon, i thank you for the support and i hope you enjoy the drabble if you see this!
It started as a date. You haven't seen your boyfriend in some time, and the moment your schedules aligned, Sirius declared in his usual fashion that he was taking you out on a date.
In hindsight, you should have known it would end this way, and... maybe you wanted it to. You're dressed in the outfit he loves so much on you, smiled so innocently at him when he came to pick you up and ignored the way his breath hitched the moment he laid eyes on you. Or... well, Sirius believes you're only pretending not to notice.
He hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all evening. A hand on your back, fingers tracing shapes on your thigh before he forces himself to let up on you slightly, hand reaching for yours, stealing a kiss every chance he gets... even as you leave, he has an arm around your waist, holding you close, smudging a kiss to your hairline paired with softly murmured words you don't catch.
And now...
Now, his lips are on yours before you've even entered your apartment; you're still blindly fumbling for your keys and have to push him away, just for a moment, else you're sure you'll be standing outside all night. He looks confused for a moment, and hurt, but then you're flinging the door open, tugging him inside with you by his belt loops, and the pieces click.
He kicks the door shut with his foot. You barely have time to register the dull slam of the wood before he's pulling you into him—or maybe you're dragging him closer by your hand on his collar—and he's groaning out a "fuck, so fuckin' pretty, darlin', my gorgeous girl-" before your mouths meet again, hot and greedy and wanting.
Sirius backs you up as he kisses you, strong hand gripping your hip. He knows the layout of your apartment well, too well for the way he bumps you against the corner of the dining table to be anything but carelessness. To his credit, he apologizes when you wince, hand moving to soothe the sore spot, but you've already forgotten about the incident, too lost in the way he's kissing you.
God, how you love his kisses. He has a way of kissing you so sweetly, moreso than you expected of a man like him, and that sweetness isn't lost even as his kisses turn deeper, hungry and impatient. Sirius kisses you like he wants you, like you're special, makes you feel like you're valuable, like you're worth it, and... and of course he does, you're all those things to him-
You're not given time to dwell on it, though, not with the way he's filling every corner of your mind. Sirius has quite the personality, too much for some, but you love him all the more for who he is. And right now, he's your breathtakingly handsome boyfriend who's leaning over you, pressing you onto your bed as he settles between your legs, and now your breath is catching in your throat.
"Merlin, look at you. My stunning girlfriend. Most attractive woman I've ever seen," he breathes when he pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and admire you. You look like a work or art to him, a goddess, with tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, panting and reaching for him like you miss him even though he's right there. He obliges, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his teeth graze your pulse, his mouth kissing its way back up to yours. "Bet you did in on purpose, tryin' to test my restraint... darlin', don't you know what uou do to me when you dress up all pretty like that?"
Breathless and not about to admit you chose your outfit with him in mind, though you're certain he knows, you only shrug, and you feel his lips quirk into a smirk just under your jaw.
"Oh, gorgeous, I'm gonna show you just what it does to me."
🤭 of failing in the study aspect and so you won't be able to achieve your dream (this is so personal rn)
With Peter (parker of course) or Remus or Sirius. Whichever inspires you
You'll Succeed
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Word count: 745
A/N: it's been really long since you requested this, im sorry 😅 if you still see this, i hope you enjoy!
When Peter came back from class, he expected to find things different from how he'd left them. He's been gone a couple hours, after all, and you'd assured him before he left that you'd finish up your work while he was away and take the rest of the day off, to give yourself a bit of a break after all your hard work. You'd even discussed dinner plans, and while he'd said time and time again that he'd cook, and that you just had to sit back and relax, you'd said something about getting it started, and he had to choose between bickering with you about it or being on time for class.
What he found upon coming home, though, was not what he'd hoped for. Surrounded by textbooks, papers and a half-full cup of tea, you're still busily typing away on your laptop, as though you haven't moved since he left. He touches a hand to your cup, his backpack hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Cold.
And all this while, you don't stop your incessant typing, don't take your attention off of your work for longer than it takes you to say, "hi, Peter, how was class?"
Peter ignores your question.
"Babe," he sighs, saving your document with one hand and gently closing your laptop with the other, "I thought we agreed you'd take the rest of the day off?"
"Yeah," you sigh back, swiveling in your chair to face him, hands gesturing helplessly as you talk. "But then I looked at my planner, and I- there's so much more to do, Peter, and if I can't do it all I'm gonna fail this class and watch my dreams slip through my fingers. Like little dandelion seeds floating on the wind."
He's ready to make a joke, but you look so exhausted, so dejected and genuinely afraid of all your work being for naught, that he swallows those words and replaces them with something gentler.
"Hey, babe. Babe, look at me." His warm hand touches your chin, gently guiding you to meet his eyes as he kneels in front of you. "You're up in your head again. I promise you, one night off isn't gonna shatter your dreams. It'll be good for you, actually; if you keep pushing without a break, you'll only burn out and get sick, and then you'll lose more time. Take a break with me, yeah? Come relax, we'll make those little dessert things you like, we'll watch your favorite show and I'll give you lots of kisses."
Damn, that's tempting. Part of you wants nothing more than to say yes, but then the overwhelming guilt of not being productive takes over and you shake your head, blinking back tears.
"I can't, Peter. I can't lose this, this opportunity, this- I've dreamed about this for years and I can't lose my chance, not when I'm so close- Peter, I want this so bad, but what if I can't-"
You cut yourself off there. The thought of not achieving your dreams, not getting what you want so badly, what you've worked so hard for, is painful to think about, and a single tear rolls down your cheek as you take a deep breath and remind yourself to think about something else. Alarm flashes across Peter's face, but he tries his best to hide it and reaches up to gently brush your tears away with his thumb.
"Hey, angel, don't think like that. You really think you could lose it, when you've worked this hard? Babe, don't underestimate yourself. You've worked hard, you're still working hard, but you can't work yourself to death either. You need to find a balance, between work and rest. And get those thoughts of failure out of your head, okay angel? You're not gonna fail. Not your class, not your course, not at your goals. You'll succeed, I promise."
Peter sounds so earnest, so honest, so much like he truly believes you can do it, that you can't do much more than stifle a sob and nod, reaching for a hug he's all too happy to give you.
"That's my girl," he smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. "Now, no more work tonight, okay? Come to the kitchen, and remind me how to make those dessert things you like before I mess it up and something completely different comes out of the oven."
I feel like Sirius Black was classically taught how to dance. Could you do a HC based on the reader not being good at it so when somone asks her to the yule ball infant of her friends she said no then tells the marauders she can't dance so she won't be going.
I Don't Dance... Or Do I?
Sirius Black x reader
Word count: 877
A/N: i turned this into a fic instead bc i was feeling the format more than a HC, hope you don't mind! it also turned out longer than expected lol
You love and hate the Yule season.
Love, because all the most gorgeous ballgowns go on sale, the excitement is palpable in the air, and the school grounds always resemble a winter wonderland straight out of a fairytale.
Hate, because the big event is a ball, and you can't dance.
Well, strictly speaking, you can. You're not very good at it, though; you always end up at least two steps behind your partner even when you swear you did everything exactly as all the other girls did. It's a sight, watching you flounder on the dance floor attempting to catch up, and it's a sight you refuse to give Hogwarts the pleasure of.
So usually, you skip the ball.
Or sometimes, you sneak in for a few minutes, just long enough to soak up the atmosphere before you go back to ensuring nobody asks you to dance. Which they can't if you're far, far away from the dance floor. The harder part, honestly, is coming up with reasons not to go if someone asks you to the ball.
This year is no different. You manage to dodge the few invitations you receive; your potential dates suffer the case of disappointment that so often accompanies (gentle) rejection, but you know they'll get over it. And as the Yule Ball grows ever closer, you're beginning to believe you're in the clear for yet another year. Your secret is safe, just as you wanted it to be.
Until someone asks you in front of your friends.
The boy—you can't even remember his name, that's how little you've spoken to him—takes your answer as expected, and while you do feel a twinge of guilt for turning him down like that, your fear of humiliation is stronger.
"You're not going to the ball?" Is this the first time your friends realize you aren't going? See you turn down a date to the biggest event of the winter season? Judging from their reaction and the three pairs of incredulous eyes on you, it probably is.
"No," you huff, sitting back down on the floor of the common room, where you'd been sitting when what's-his-name approached you, and you lean your head against Sirius' thigh. Sirius, who only smiles and pets your head affectionately from where he's taking up half the couch.
When you don't offer any further clarification, the boys share a look, and you swear you can pinpoint the moment they decide they want to hear the reason.
"Well, why on earth not? You love Yule, and as Sirius here always says, you'd look beautiful in a gown." James skillfully dodges the pillow Sirius throws at his head. Sirius concludes James has had too much practice dodging bludgers during Quidditch.
"Would you believe me if I said I just don't feel like going?"
The reason feels weak already on your tongue, and you gather from their similarly raised eyebrows that the answer is no. Darn it.
"You don't have to go," Remus starts, "but if you don't, we'd like to know why so we know you aren't missing on the fun over a small thing we could have helped with."
Fun. The Yule Ball does sound like fun, a lovely night off among all the beautifully dressed students and faculty alike, enjoying the decorations and the music and the atmosphere...
"I can't dance," you groan into Sirius' thigh before you can help yourself. "I can't dance, and it's a ball, and I don't want to humiliate myself in the middle of the dance floor."
Because the fear of the embarrassment far outweighs your desire to take part in the festivities.
"Is that all?" You look up for just long enough to see Remus' surprised expression, mixed with something that looks half-smug, the way he does whenever he wins complicated debates. "See, I knew it'd be something solveable. Just have Sirius teach you. Then you'll know how to dance, and you can come to the ball."
"Sirius?"
"Despite what you might think, princess, I am qualified to teach ballroom dancing. Or to take you to the ball. Or both," the boy in question chimes in with a wink. The disbelief must still be plain on your face, because he adds, "All members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black are formally trained in more styles of formal dancing than I want to count. You've heard tales of my mother, do you really think she'd be able to live with anything less?"
That is a good point. Sometimes, it's easy to forget Sirius' high-society upbringing. And honestly, what do you have to lose?
"You'd really teach me?"
"Would the condition of going to the ball as my date be pushing my luck too far?"
That one, you don't even have to think about. Who wouldn't want to go to the ball on Sirius Black's arm?
"No, Siri," you laugh, using your hand on his leg to help you sit up. "But you better teach me properly."
"Don't worry, princess," he chuckles. "You won't be disappointed."
That evening, when you receive your first dance lesson from Sirius Black, you can only conclude he isn't as good a teacher as he made himself out to be.
33. The feel of fingers trailing over a bare shoulder blade
Cary Agos x reader
Warning: suggestive content, implied smut
Cary hovered above you, pressing feathery kisses to your face. Your hands trailed up and down his bare back before coming to rest at the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours.
God, you loved kissing him. It took your breath away every single time and this one was no different. His kisses were so soft and loving; you wanted to lose yourself in him.
He pulled away when his phone rang and you whined, clutching onto him, but he only chuckled, pecking your lips.
"I have to take it," he murmured, another sweet kiss following.
"Do you?"
"Yeah, but I'll kiss you some more afterwards," he grinned, pressing the phone to his ear. "Cary Agos."
You couldn't hear the name or voice of whoever called him, but you assumed it was work. Curse you for loving a lawyer.
A devious plan formed in your mind, one that would definitely speed up his call. Under normal circumstances you'd leave him alone, but hey, it was his off day and you were feeling needy. He did do some work on his off days, but if he was going to be working the whole time, he might as well be at his office.
Silently crawling over to where he sat on the edge of the bed, your hands traced slow, delicate patterns over his back, his warm skin contrasting with your cold fingers. Other than flinching away from your first touch, Cary let you continue, and so you moved to the next phase of your plan.
You let your fingers move higher, fingertips trailing over his shoulder blades as you gently pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses to his neck.
Cary's breath hitched and you knew you had his attention. Now, he did try and swat you away, but you only moved out of his reach to continue kissing and caressing him; your fingers traced intricate pictures on his skin and you smiled into his neck when you felt him shudder.
Shifting slightly behind him, you repositioned yourself to be more comfortable, letting a soft whimper escape your lips right next to his ear. God, the sooner he could touch you, the better. You didn't even have a pillow to grind on, and you were aching for attention.
Another whimper, and your lips brushed over the spot on the underside of his jaw.
"I'm gonna call you back in a couple hours." He wasted no time in hanging up after that, tossing the phone aside and nestling his hips between yours again as he covered your body with his own. Despite the tension in his body, you knew he wasn't mad; his beautiful brown eyes gazed down at you with the same love as several minutes ago.
"I'm gonna get you back for that," he murmured, before his mouth found yours again in a passionate kiss.
hi! i love the cary agos fics you wrote, and i was wondering if you could do one where he’s planning a romantic trip for his girlfriend’s birthday? thank you!
Romantic Getaway
Word count: 1033
A/N: I'm not entirely sure this is what you had in mind, and I apologize if I didn't get his character quite right in this one, but nonetheless I hope you enjoy!
It's not unlike Cary to have plans for your birthday. Plans with you, in any case. Every year, you tell him all you want is time with him, special time alone during which neither of you have to worry about work and you can focus completely on the other.
And every year, Cary fulfils your request.
Five birthdays. That's how many you've celebrated with him; it might have been six, if you'd met just slightly earlier than you did. If you didn't care much for birthdays before, Cary would be the one reason why you do now, with how much he dotes on you, showering you with affection every time.
Cary's always affectionate, but even more so on your birthday. The day to celebrate your existence, to remind you how much you're cared for, how much he loves that you're here and alive and that you're here with him.
Of course, you never know in advance what he has up his sleeve. The lawyer takes secrets and surprises to a whole new level, never letting you even catch a hint of what he's got planned until he's ready to reveal it, and this year is no exception. For several months now, he's had this trip planned, ensuring neither you nor him would have any work obligations for a week, and all the travel details have been arranged and double checked a dozen times over.
Only the best for his angel.
Oh, he knows you don't care, you've told him time and time again just having him on your special day is more than enough. He knows you're happy just sitting on the couch watching movies with his arms around your waist and your head tucked under his chin, where you fit so perfectly, but he still longs to make your birthdays memorable. Cary is observant, and never fails to pick up on the way your eyes light up when he tells you he's taking you out, or to pack up for a little getaway, with that bright twinkle in his warm, brown eyes that promises you a good time and plenty of kisses.
This day starts just like all birthdays do for you. Cary's arms still cradle you to him when you wake, his chest rising and falling in time with his slow breathing; it feels like safety and comfort. You know he always wants to make your birthdays about you, but as you wriggle up slightly to be able to look at your boyfriend, you can't help the soft smile on your face.
You're worth the world if it makes you smile like that, and he intends to devote the rest of his life to making you happy. Starting with tomorrow. Little do you know, he has a small black ring box in his coat pocket, and it's for you.
He looks like an angel, you always think. Gorgeous enough a man when he's awake, there's always this sense of giddy pride that fills your heart, alongside the love, when you realize once more that yours is the bed he chooses to fall asleep in, that you are the person he trusts so when he's asleep.
As though he can feel your gaze on him, he stirs, eyes fluttering open softly and then you're greeted by that warm, golden brown you adore so.
"Happy birthday, angel," he murmurs, arms reaching for you to pull you back into his embrace, and you let him, content to spend the first moments of your day together resting on his chest. "The way you're starin' at me though, I'd think it was my special day and not yours."
"Shush, and give me a birthday kiss," you demand, wriggling back up to face him, and Cary obliges with a grin. You kiss him once, twice more, just because you swear he gives the best kisses, and then you pull back to speak again. "So... did you listen to what I said this year?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Oh, but you know better. That cheeky grin, the twinkle in his eyes... he didn't. He never does.
"Do you wanna know what we're doing this year?"
How could you not? Your curiosity is piqued, and you nod. Cary gently moves you off his chest, warm hands on your shoulders, and reaches over into the drawer of his nightstand. You watch him as he does, watching the way this beautiful man moves so gracefully, and you nearly miss how he produces a clean, cream colored envelope, just like the ones he uses at work every day. As he hands it to you, though, you notice your name penciled in his handwriting in the corner; does your name always look prettier when he writes it?
"Go on, angel, open it."
You do. It's thicker than what you'd expect from a simple letter, and the first thing that falls out is tickets. Plane tickets. The cogs are turning in your head as you slip out another paper, and another... A hotel booking. Couples' massage. Spa day. A map of Paris...
You're going to Paris. With your boyfriend.
He must see the disbelief on your face, laughing softly at your expression. "Happy birthday, baby. Do you like it?"
"Yes!!" It comes out a little louder than you'd intended, but neither of you care as you fling your arms around him, pressing five kisses to his face in quick succession before Cary turns his head just right to catch your lips in a proper kiss. "I love it. You know I love traveling with you. Oh my gosh, Cary, how did you do this-"
You won't find out. Cary may love you, but he's good at keeping secrets, and the way his eyes twinkle at you, you realize he won't say. What he does tell you is, "Get your suitcase, darling, we're leaving tonight."
Tonight. Tomorrow, you'll be in France, in the oh so well known city of love, and safe to say, you're excited. Seven kisses later, you've hopped off of him to prepare, and Cary's left in bed a moment longer, gazing after you with a soft smile on his face. God, how did he get so lucky?
