‘lovemelovemelovemeloveme’ is what his mind supplies whenever you’re in the vicinity and you’re not giving him any attention. or maybe when he just feels soggy. or mushy. either way he wants you. badly.
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What are we, you wonder, as Flins tucks the lock of your hair behind your ear when he sees you in the streets of Nasha Town, shopping for groceries.
What are we, you wonder, when Flins calls you his dearest, even though he literally calls anyone dear or dearest to him, like the esteemed Traveler and hardworking Illuga.
What are we, you wonder, when he keeps attaching himself on your side, instead of mingling with his other drinking buddies inside the flagship. You wonder if you’re really that interesting to talk to when he is connected with the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius and the Boss of the Curatorium of Secrets. Or maybe Flins is still beside you because you’re just easy that to tease—an easy prey. An easy victim to his whims.
What are we, you finally ask him, one night, under his sheets, and while he peppers kisses all over your exposed collar bones.
When he hums, you repeat your question again. “W–what are we, Flins?”
He momentarily halts. Then, he lifts his head, blocking your view on the ceiling. He is equally as exposed as you, and equally as littered with bites and red marks. “Mm?”
“What are we?”
“Hm, good question,” He says, before putting a hand below his chin, pondering. “What do you think?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Hey, I’m asking you.”
“And now I’m asking you.”
“Ugh, we’re going to be in circles, aren’t we, Flins?”
“We are?” He smiles.
You groan, “Flins—“
He chuckles. “I take it, you’re not satisfied with my responses.”
“Responses? More like questions. You’re throwing it back at me!”
He chuckles again, before leaning down, and kissing you. “You get final say.” Then, he buries his face on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “An amusing query, really, based on our current circumstances.”
His hand slowly find yours—and your fingers intertwine. “You’re beneath me. I’m above you. And I’m kissing you. Kissing you for the past few hours, if we are counting. Also, we have claimed each other with our own marks. What do you think, my dearest? ‘What are we’?”
You pout. “Why can’t you say it out loud?”
“Oh? Does this imply that you want me to be the final say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Hm.” There’s a fleeting kiss on your skin. “You’re not sure?”
Great treatment. He knows how to make you weak. Why must he treat you so delicately, but also bewilder you to ponder over his words. Actually, it’s not even a what are we that you should be asking. It should be, why are you like this? Why is he like this? “Umm—“
Another chuckle. Really great. He really knows how to attain the upper hand, even if you were the one who asked the million dollar question.
Then, he looks at you—tenderly, yet you know that there’s something else. “If you’ve made up your mind, I shall give you a final say.”
“What?”
“A final say.”
“I heard you the first time!”
“Alright then.”
“Alright—ugh, Flins. Fine. What are we? I want you to have the final say!”
Another mirthful laughter escapes from his lips, and his eyelids lower. He caresses your cheek, “Should I really state the obvious, now? I mean, I am about to kiss you again. Do we really need to declare our own status? Or is this merely out of societal pressures?”
Again with the stupid circles. You roll your eyes. “Flins!”
“Yes?”
“You know what! Just kiss me or whatever. I just know we’ll take forever.”
“Forever in kissing you? Oh, what a beautiful proposal. We shall implement and execute that as much as possible.”
“N–no, that’s not what I meant—I meant that you were going to take too long in answering—mmph!”
Flins would be the type of bf to press his nose all over your skin—be it your wrist, your neck, or maybe even your chest—whenever you apply a new perfume. He’s shameless when it comes to his lover. He likes indulging himself when he’s with his lover. If you gave him the permission to do this, then. . . yes. He’ll NOT hesitate in sniffing, smelling, your addictive scent.
A part of me likes to think that he doesn’t mind your natural scent too. Maybe it drives him wild. Combine it with your fragrance that is irresistibly and undeniably you? Oh, you are cruel. Flins will probably not let go of you for a while.
Imagine you go to Fontaine, or order overseas but the perfume is from Fontaine, and purchase the right fragrance that Miss Emilie recommended to you. You can trust her—you did need her help in testing fragrances, and also learning more about your body chemistry.
But uh—you just did not expect that it will have an effect on a certain fae. You’re happy that the fragrance suits you well—you really and truly like it, maybe this is what you’re going to use often or forever now. The outcome of a fae getting addicted, though, you did not anticipate at all.
Maybe praises here and there, yes. He’ll give his compliments and agree with you that you do smell nice, and whatever adjectives he can possibly offer, but the fact that he wants to pull you closer or even bury his face on your neck every time you two are in bed together. . . yes. As if he wants to merge with your very being. . .
“Oh, I just wanted to see you. As your lover, shouldn’t I visit you every now and then?”
“I mean, yeah, I’m touched, but. . . aren’t you supposed to be at the Clink-Clank Krumkake Craftshop today for Aino’s seminar?”
“. . . Oh. I wasn’t aware you knew that.”
“Wait. Are you here because you’re skipping again?!”
“Guilty as charged. Nothing ever passes my sharp and observant lover. You truly are worth an applause. Come here. I must kiss you for how brilliant you are.”
“NO, STAY BACK! Cut the sweet talk, I know what you’re doing! Flins, you have to come back there, or else Ineffa will—“
“Hm? What’s that? You missed me too? How needy, my light. You should’ve said so. My beautiful and endearing lover insisted on stealing me away for a wonderful time together—ah, yes. Perfect. I suppose this is reason enough for me to tell Miss Ineffa should she inquire for my absence.”
imagine giving a platonic flying kiss 💋 to friends ( varka, illuga, or jahoda ) and flins, who’s actually there, raises his gloved hand and catches said flying kiss with his usual closed eye smile.
there are three reactions. jahoda is gobsmacked. illuga is fascinated. varka is entertained.
“no one’s going to take them away from him, damn. . .”
“so this is how sir flins is like with his lover. . .”
“haha! with the way how flins is acting, i’d mistake him for a mondstadter during windblume.”
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“Forgive me for being so bold,” Flins says, his voice lowering. He tilts your chin upwards and meets your eyes. The way he gazes at you is so tender, you feel your heart slowly race inside your chest. “But may I have the pleasure of locking lips with you?”
But he can also be mischievous at times.
“Too much, my love?” Flins soothes you by kissing your inner thigh again. He doesn’t show it, but he’s delighted when it gets a reaction out of you. “My apologies. I just couldn’t help it—“
He kisses your skin again.
“Oh, dear.” And again. “Oh.”
And again. Flins gives you a tiny smile between your legs. “Oh, whatever shall I do— how incredibly unruly of me…”
Really, he means well when it comes to you. If only you weren’t so enticing.
More than once, you find yourself walking outside the lighthouse’s threshold with slightly messed up tresses, disheveled clothing, and skin littered with marks, in a daze. There’s no doubt that once Jahoda, or even Linnea, see you in such a state, they’d double take and say the same thing: ‘Wow, you’re glowing.’ ( Jahoda may even be shocked, while Linnea may put on her glasses and gasp in fascination. )
That is, if that is truly going to happen, because your fae of a husband has no plans of letting you go just yet. You sense his presence from behind, and you blink when you hear a deep, amused chuckle.
Oh, no—
A gloved hand appears, and you release a yelp when you are tugged back inside.
If Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins decides to eventually settle down and find himself a lover, it will not be so surprising to those who are close to him that he will be incredibly lovesick.
Or maybe those who are close to him will find this unexpected at all. All eyes are wide if they ever find out how clingy he is if he's alone with his beloved. After a tiring day of writing reports or even clearing out "Wild Hunt unpleasantness," would you really blame the man for requesting a bit, if not, more of your time?
He likes cuddles. Though he knows he may be cold, he can't help but huddle close for your warmth. He appreciates every touch that you give him – be it holding his hand, or his cheek ( to which he'll lean to ), he'll appreciate it all. Even better if you want to embrace him, because he will do it eventually if you don’t.
He also likes kisses. A lot, actually, and this can be a hindrance to both of you for your jobs. There's always a kiss before and after work. Flins sometimes overdoes it with you, because apparently, he can't get enough of your lips. He's a little tease. He'll always say, "just one more?" or "one last kiss?" because it's never going to be a one last kiss. This man is obsessed.
And he's always so so happy if you indulge him. He'd smile a lot between kisses, feeling triumphant and so, so delighted, because he manages to charm and seduce you for more. You'd always try to break it off because you know how he takes his time ( give him an inch and he'll take a mile ), but he'll continue kissing you either way – not on the lips, but on the nose, your cheeks, or your forehead – everywhere on your face. The man has his eyes closed as he happily peppers your face with so much kisses. You are trying not to explode.
"Unfortunately, I don't think this is sufficient enough," He whispers between kisses, with you glowing in embarrassment. The fact that he's not breathing hard is beyond you - is it because of the fact that he's a lantern fae? He pulls you closer by the waist. "May I have one more? Just one more, and perhaps it'll suffice."
Indulge him a little more, and you'll find yourself confused. You'll be finding yourself sitting on his lap. There will be no escape from his hold. ( Not unless you're uncomfortable, then he will let you go. But you are into this as much as he is, so. )
Flins is secretly a needy man. Though he'd let himself spoil his lover by giving them lots of cuddles, kisses, and words of affirmation ( compliments, praises; he’s great at it ), it's wholly different if he's ever in the receiving end of your love.
Oh to lock lips with you. To feel your arms around his, or your hands cupping his cheeks. To hear and listen to the words or sounds you make. He'd take it all.
So if you ever decide to go somewhere – somewhere far where he can't even escort you, expect this man to yearn.
Flins will probably miss you so so much to the point that he can’t help but look helplessly every time at the foot of the lighthouse, expecting your arrival. He'll be sitting at his porch – at his workspace, where yellow irises will be lifting away from his reports. Flins is waiting for the one who has his heart.
Of course, he's not usually the type to openly express his emotions, but if one ever mentions your name if he's around, he’ll have a tiny and sad smile. Oh, you. Wonderful, amazing, and beautiful you, who's taking so long. The man is longing for you.
Flins wonders where you are, and hopes you are alright wherever you are. He can't help but ponder from time to time, do you miss him as much as he misses you?
Do you remember the time he made you his subject when he got to use his kamera again? With a little bit of help from Aino and Ineffa, Flins managed to have a small printed copy of you smiling, that he keeps in his pocket whenever he’s out clearing up Wild Hunt spots. ( He makes sure to be extra careful whenever he's against the Wild Hunt. It'd be bad if he'll see his dearest damaged, no? ) Plus, he's also been planning on purchasing those antique lockets that he's been eyeing for a while now, and thinks he should put your picture inside for a more secured keeping.
He misses you so much sometimes he rereads your letters. Those wonderful letters that he treasures and hides somewhere safe because it's the only thing that's enough to keep him closer to you. Your postcards, anecdotes, and small packages are enough to make his whole week.
He misses you so much sometimes he orders or cooks meals that you favor to feel as if you’re still there with him. He wants to feed you again, since you always did glow so lovingly.
Oh, he misses you so so much he can’t help but be intrigued whenever you are mentioned in Nasha Town. His eyes light up whenever he hears your name. ( Miss Nefer, the observant woman she is, is probably the first one to notice. )
You’re very special to him — you’re his lover, his light, and his one and only.
So do expect that once you return, Flins will absolutely take his time making the most of it with you. You did leave for a while, after all, so don’t be so shocked if he’s not going to let you go just yet. This means more kisses. More intimate touches. The man usually kisses your hand whenever you two see each other, and this time, he’ll kiss not only your hand, but also all the way up to your wrist, your arm, until your shoulder. There may come a time where you two are in bed, loving each other, and him lying on your thighs, relieved and content that you are finally home.
Below you, he attracts your attention, "My love." He kisses your palm when you caress his face. He has waited for far too long, and he has one request. He asks you in a sultry manner, “Will you allow me to be selfish with you?”
( edit / bonus: forgot one of the most important things about him. this man speaks his fae language while loving you. he’ll be kissing you on the temple, or on your neck while whispering his language so tenderly. )
